The TV Hostess

The Logic stories are three interrelated tales that begin with the actions of a monstrous, selfish, immature man, continue with an Eastern European immigrant who wishes to weaken and destroy his adopted country and end on a pony ranch in the Texas Hill Country. 

This particular story is expanded from a short vignette found in The Logic of My Anger: A Sociopath’s Tale of Vengeance.  The TV Hostess is a woman who is the face of a low-budget, morning television show in Boston.  She is kidnapped, sexually tortured and repeatedly assaulted , and then emotionally destroyed before she is finally discarded by her kidnapper. 

The TV Hostess

Women ought either be indulged or utterly destroyed, for if you merely offend them they take vengeance, but if you injure them greatly they are unable to retaliate; so the injury done to a woman ought to be such than vengeance cannot be feared. 

-With apologies to Niccolo Machiavelli

Day One

Jamie Hernandez sat in her dressing room, staring into the mirror as she rubbed the creamy mask onto the perfect white skin of her cheeks and forehead.  This one was blue and she’d left three small round holes for her eyes and mouth.  The white towel wrapped around her blonde hair above her blue face made her look ghostly in the intense glow of the makeup light….or like a demented smurf.  She walked over to the small couch and sat down to review the biographic data on today’s guest; the conservative female author looked boring, boring, boring.  The window was slightly cracked and she opened her robe to let the air blow across her naked body while it dried the facial mask.  She had already covered herself with lotion and the air made her skin tingle. 

She Was A Smart, Beautiful Woman or It Was Definitely A Fair Assessment Of Her Charms

Jamie was beautiful.  She had never been anywhere since she was ten when somebody had not mentioned it.  She knew it was the kind of beauty that was startling, not for what it was but because it seemed to take up space of its own.  It was the beginning point of every interaction she’d ever had with other people.  No one ever understood that it wasn’t a gift.  It was a torment, because it was perfection, and maintaining perfection was a lot of work.  She had a great job, but she was also sharp-witted enough to realize that men would always care more for what they thought they could get from her rather than actually for her.

She was smart and she was young and already worth a ton of money, but she wanted the epitome of personal and professional success more than anything.  She knew she was spoiled and could pretty much afford the best now, but she had never failed to obtain anything she truly desired.  She believed she could not be denied….business, jobs, men, whenever she had set her sights on a goal, she had by God achieved it.  She always had, no matter what the odds were against her; she always would – so she had thought.  She really believed that. 

A strong-willed, independent woman, she’d made most of her own breaks by just being smarter and better than most of the men against whom she competed.  Assholes didn’t really describe them.  They were weak men, timid little men with over-ripe eyes, almost proudly ignorant, certainly personally repellent and absolutely convinced that they were geniuses and the gift of God to every woman they could hit upon.  The remaining few, those as talented as she?  She’d taken them out of the running using office politics, threats of sexual harassment and one unfortunate affair.  It had been unfortunate because she’d had to fire the pathetic dickwad two years later, after she’d been promoted above him. 

Of course, it didn’t hurt to have the kind of brittle, yet undeniable beauty with which she’d been cursed.  Not a large woman, she was still absolutely merciless when it came to getting ahead.  She hated the idea of the work itself, but if it got her out of this god-forsaken television market and into either New York or LA, then it was worth it. 

Despite being married, work was all she thought about now because she’d discovered the sordid reality of life by her early twenties; that it was possible to obtain something that approached sexual satisfaction while remaining empty inside.  But with the passing of time the emptiness had grown while the satisfaction was increasingly harder to find.  She might as well have said that she wanted love and be done with it. 

When she’d gotten out of bed this morning, she’d instantly regretted it.  It’d been dark and cold and it looked like it was going to stay that way.  She was cranky and ready to take it out on whichever of her peons crossed her today.  Lots of the assholes that she left in the dust at work confused sex with love, like she had when she was younger.  The fools still comforted themselves with the false sense of belonging it gave them. 

She always got to the fitness center early; it was only nine in the morning and already she’d done five point five miles on the stationary bike, worked for half an hour on the exercise machines and done another fifteen minutes in the pool.  She knew she would have felt better if she could have eaten the four fried eggs and half pound of bacon that her husband ate almost every morning, but life wasn’t fair, not fair at all. 

She was so tired of Boston.  And tired of him now, tired of the way he was gone all the time on business and tired of how he acted when he was home.  Almost every man she knew quickly bored her.  Even so, unbidden thoughts of the new station manager drifted across her mind.  He was darkly handsome and well built; a decidedly masculine presence in a world of television that was mostly made up of softly feminine males.  But he was little too independent for her tastes.  She liked men that were a little more easily controlled. 

Last night had been……odd.  According to an article she’d read about human sexuality, although damp dreams were not uncommon to women her age, only a relatively small percentage reported actually dreaming to climax.  But it wasn’t so much the orgasm that had bothered Jamie, who up until a moment before awakening had gone without one, sleeping or awake, for almost two years; it was the identity of the partner her subconscious had chosen for her. 

She’d been composing plays; dark fantasies about him in her mind for the last two weeks.  She would probably never do anything about it since he would be so difficult to manage while in an affair, but it never hurt a girl to dream.  The latest one involved him sneaking into her home while she was working in the kitchen. 

She’d just taken a bath and was wearing a robe.  He’d snuck up behind her, but couldn’t say anything because of the tension in his voice as he drank in her beauty. 

She was a good woman; she’d finally recognized his presence and had half a second to grab a knife to defend her self.  But his hand moved as fast as a striking snake to pin her wrist.  He’d then reached around and pulled the belt of the robe so that it opened, and put his hand between her shoulder blades.  He’d pushed her forward so that she’d felt the cold surface of the kitchen island, first on her breasts, and then on her belly, and finally the hard corner against her pelvis.  He’d already squeezed her wrist so that she’d dropped the knife on the island.  She’d no choice but to wiggle farther onto the island to keep the knife flat under her belly so that it wouldn’t slice her open or drop to the floor.  Only that had brought her buttocks up even further and parted her legs, and she’d had to hold herself absolutely rigid to keep from moving against the blade.  And he ---

The ringing of the phone next to her was as shocking as something breaking.  She was annoyed at having the daydream broken, but it was time to begin preparing for the show that came on in a little over two hours. 

She Was A First Round Pick or Definitely Not A Consolation Prize

The man had just sent his current lover to Louisiana for seven to ten days of what might be called “….special training.”  This even though the older woman that he had come to hate was not aware of the fact that he was treating her like a laboratory rat as he manipulated her psychologically, emotionally and sexually.  It all had become too easy of late and he was bored with amusing himself at her expense.  Frankly, he was bored with everything about his normal life. 

It was almost noon as he prowled his loft, feeling restless as hell.  A melancholy had come over him over a period of the last several weeks.  Things had been going well, too well it seemed.  He was young and healthy, he was wealthy, and he had what should have been the woman of his dreams….except that she was twice his age and had turned out to be a treacherous bitch. 

So why was he so restless?  Why did he want so badly for something in his life to change?   Was it because he’d finally got everything he’d ever wanted, and all he could think was…..is this it?  Is this all there is??

Why not admit it, he thought to himself.  He felt rough, physical, mean.  He really didn’t like women in general, but he really did want a woman; or rather, he wanted the release a woman represented, a release in which only he maintained control.  A temporary woman would be best.  A woman filled with fight at first, one that wanted to deny him his rightful relief until he’d worn her down; a slit totally different from the compliant old bitch he was currently fucking.  Well, he called her old even though she was only in her late thirties….and still very sexy, still extremely good looking, but he was only twenty-one and she seemed old to him now.  Old and treacherous and dried up.  Once he’d thought he might have loved her, but now she was like week-old bread.  You could still eat it, but it was dry and hard and there was no taste left to it. 

But the man didn’t want a prostitute either.  Rather, he wanted a woman he could dominate, a woman freshly trained to his exacting standards and always available to be used the way he felt….at….that moment, to be used his way.  The man glanced over at the small TV he had in the kitchen.  Jamie Hernandez was on at the moment with another woman.  Her visitor wore a dress of royal blue that matched her eyes, cinched in at the waist, the neckline demure.  With her hair pinned up, the guest looked elegant without being studied. 

Not so the TV hostess, her exaggerated curves seemed to cry out slutty waitress.  He’d seen the Hernandez woman numerous times on local TV, always working the mid to late-morning hours.  While her co-host gave off an aura of being a man of the people, she often seemed more distant, more above the fray.  He got the impression that she thought she was smarter than everyone else…….and that included both her current guest and co-host. 

He supposed she was good-looking enough but thought it was camera-ready attractive; there was no depth to her appeal and it was all shopped and cosmetic.  While most men he knew thought her extremely attractive in a “forget it, you’ll just upset yourself” whorish kind of way, to him she did not appear particularly talented to him.  She inevitably sat next to her male co-host, often perched on a tall stool in a way that best exposed her shapely legs.  She generally wore an abbreviated skirt or close-fitting knit dress of some light pastel color that flattered her complexion, usually in shades of pink, yellow, orange or light green.  A comparison of the two women just confirmed that in her expensive, yet still tasteless dress Jamie looked like nothing so much as a prostitute that had been chosen to front some cheesy, local television show. 

Today she wore a deeply cut, tightly cinched light grey dress that ended about two or three inches above her knees.  He had to admit that she did have great knees.  Not surprisingly, the dress was tightly tailored at the mid-section to best display her tiny waist and surprisingly large jugs.  The overhead lights, unflatteringly hard, glinted off of a tiny broach she wore attached to a velvet choker around her neck. 

In her mid-twenties, despite her lack of talent, she seemed somewhat intelligent and even displayed a sense of humor at times, but it was almost always at someone else’s expense, usually a man, as she narrated some crazy behavior that had just made the news.  She had a slight southern accent, and at 5’ 4”, she had a bosomy, exquisitely sexy figure and long, shapely legs; she wore pumps or dressy sandals with high stiletto heels that always emphasized her charms to the mostly male audience.

The camera always zoomed in when she smiled, for attractive laugh lines bracketed her small pouty mouth with the ends slightly turned down and soft wrinkles appeared at the corners of her eyes.  Medium-length honey blonde hair with lighter highlights fell to her shoulders, professionally framing her face; the color went well with a wonderful late-fall, pre-winter tan.  Long lashes on light brown eyes combined with everything else to create a whorish, yet still often stunning telegenic beauty that exuded a cheap, yet professionally quake-proof business-like veneer.

She was part of the “to-do-list” generation – people who got into new thing after new thing, from rock climbing to hot yoga to night golf.  Sometimes in the same day.  They were always in a hurry and usually, it seemed they didn’t really pause to enjoy the thing they’d just done; they just liked marking it off some imaginary list.  A recent article in one of the Sunday paper supplements trumpeted that she “…was a young professional on the rise.”  The accompanying picture of her lounging in an over-stuffed chair was used to support the accompanying hyperbole.  High tops and a backward baseball cap set off the ensemble, serving only to frame and further enhance the beauty of her eyes, her skin and her face.

She was in fact, young and aggressive to a fault, unwilling to let anyone or anything get in the way on her voyage to the top.  She kissed the asses of those above and bullied those below.  Even more, as much as she liked being able to tell the men under her what she thought of them, the man watching had no doubt that she was a promiscuous whore too.  The only real question being how many men and women she had fucked or fucked over on her way to the top of the local celebrity list.  He was sure she was the type of ball-buster that felt men were weak and would always fall short of her standards, but in the end she lacked a similar sense of her own vulnerabilities. 

He wasn’t sure where the idea came from; it was hard to say for sure, but suddenly a full-blown scene crystallized in his mind.  He knew her type and was absolutely positive that her on-air persona of a sometimes ditzy blonde was at total odds with reality.  She was the perfect example of a young, bloodless, hyper-competitive American television executive that possessed only mediocre talent, but sported unyielding drive.  In short, she was exactly what the industry wanted.  He absolutely knew this about her, but like millions of other men in the northeast still felt an incredible physical attraction toward her. 

A low level celebrity, it turned out she left home early and often worked late, then took a company limousine home when her husband was in town.  However, when he left town on business, which was quite often, she usually drove herself into work so that she could join other broadcast TV types at one of the local bars after work for anywhere from two to four hours. 

He realized that this lady exactly fit his surly mood.  It was time to show this sleazy whore what a real man, not one of her sycophants, would do with her.  He wanted to fuck her so hard, it made him ache just thinking about it.  Something deep inside him had stirred.  A wild, reckless, primal piece of him that had always loved danger, the adrenaline it brought; that had always loved testing himself against various challenges that crossed his path.  There was an ecstasy in the knife edge of the struggle, a vital energy he felt couldn’t be found anywhere else, and part of him (a stupid, insane, but undeniably powerfully primitive part) missed it when it was absent.  He’d had the dark urges before and they would come again.  He was fascinated by them, attracted to them, and had given in to them far more than just once. 

She perfectly qualified as a temporary lover if he could only get to her without too much risk.  There was no doubt he would make the attempt and he heard himself laughing like a madman as he made his plans.  He didn’t believe he’d fail to acquire the woman, because he knew he would. 

He grinned to himself, since he knew he would soon be enjoying the delectable Jamie.  Sometimes he got these feelings.  They were rare, had happened perhaps four or five times in his life, but he could remember each one vividly.  There came a kind of tingling sensation in his body, as if he were being bathed in a mild electrical current.  Combined with the physical effect was a sudden epiphany, a kind of déjà verité, a revelation of truth.  It was the oddest thing, but the premonitions had always been correct.  Each and every time it had happened, whatever it had showed him, that thing had always come to pass. 

She Was A Beauty By Network Standards or He Planned On Giving Her A Professional Woman’s Welcome

It was late afternoon, not too cold, but a harsh, persistent drizzle had fallen for the last couple of hours.  Pools and puddles were everywhere, much splashed across the pavement and up on the sidewalk by passing traffic.  The man sat in a cheap rental car (without GPS) that he’d picked up from a local business.  He’d been waiting for about an hour outside the bar that the TV types used when he saw her walk in with two other women. 

All three carried umbrellas and she looked good with a rose blazer over a clay-colored blouse, no bra, tight jeans and black, strappy sandals with stiletto heels that seemed a little inappropriate for the cold, wet weather.  Her high heels made a distinct click on the sidewalk, amplified by the exaggerated swing of her hips.  Young and fresh, seemingly bubbling over with high spirits, she marched into the bar as though at the head of her very own parade.  Skin so clear it almost glowed, huge eyes, long blond hair; without even trying she still took his breath away. 

She was still in that bar and it had turned dark by the time the man reached her home; a light but steady rain turning cold had begun to fall.  He passed the house twice, slowly going in opposite directions and then parked a mile away in the back corner of a small, poorly lit lot set up for commuters using mass transport.  Finally, he opened the trunk of the rental car and disabled the trunk light. 

Still unnoticed, he hurriedly walked to the TV whore’s executive ghetto-mansion like a man who hated the cold, wet rain.  Situated over a fifty meters back from the street, even better, the big-money home was faced by an empty lot across the street.  The nearest neighbors on that side were about seventy meters away on either side of the empty lot.  There were numerous small shrubs in front of her home; all well lit by lawn lighting to remove obvious hiding places.  But the sides of the property were sharply defined by multiple rows of large, thick ten-foot tall shrubs that remained mostly in darkness. 

Carrying a plastic shopping bag filled with the few things he needed, and bundled in an expensive dark blue raincoat, leather gloves and umbrella that allowed him to look like he fit in, the man walked by her home the first time.  Lights off, no one home.  He meandered back in fifteen minutes and quickly disappeared into the shrubs that lined the driveway.  After changing shoes and waiting another ten minutes, he pulled on a black watch cap and cautiously approached the house. 

Even though he moved slowly at the edge of its range, an outside motion sensor situated by the house still caused an additional security light to come on.  The man sank to the ground and froze, waited until it went off again, and then moved even more slowly before he finally reached the side of Jamie’s home.  It didn’t matter; no matter how slow he went, the light still continued to come on.  Eventually he said “fuck it,” and used the shrubbery until he was next to the garage window.  Then he walked less than fifteen feet over to the garage and peered in a window that was hidden from view from the street.

He took a good look at the security system inside.  It was fairly rudimentary, but still effective.  There were contact pads, small, rectangular things, on the door into the home and on all of the windows.  They had wires the size and color of spaghetti carelessly tacked all along the bottoms of the windows, and the wires came together in a metal box mounted on the wall next to a door that probably led into either the mud room or the kitchen.  The alarm box had a small key pad and two small lights.  There was a red one labeled armed and a green one labeled unarmed.  There were no separate zones.  No motion sensors.  It was a crude perimeter fence only.  While the house had been professionally wired for security, an intelligent man with a lot of “odd” skills could short-circuit the window alarms by adding additional wires to either side of the magnet pads before unlocking the old-fashioned window with a pocket knife. 

He did and within two minutes was inside her garage!

He closed the window behind him and looked at everything again.  Her garage door opener on the ceiling sported two lights; he unscrewed both, then closed the entry window and removed the additional wire that had allowed him to break in without setting off an alarm.  The man patiently settled down in the right hand corner of the garage behind a large lawn mower parked near the garage door and prepared to wait.  It was raining harder now and he was pretty sure she would open the garage door and just drive right on in.  If she did somehow see him in the darkness, he would be able to make his escape through the open garage door long before she could get the police onsite. 

He waited patiently.  Finally, the moment arrived and time twisted around itself in that manner peculiar to anticipation and excitement, infinitely extending itself in the perception of the man who waited.  The garage was lit up from outside by a car on the drive and then the garage door noisily cranked open; the engine noise grew suddenly louder.  But even though the interior garage lights never came on, the unsuspecting slut drove inside anyway. 

Her vision to the side was poor, the windows and side view mirrors were beaded with water.  As the car slowly passed him, the man rose to a low crouch and moved behind the right rear bumper remaining below the level of the car trunk and listening to the sounds of the garage door as it closed behind him.  The brake lights flashed suddenly and then the garage went dark when she turned her headlights off.  For the first time, he could sense that she suddenly had realized that the garage was unexpectedly dark. 

He became aware of the beating of his heart, feeling the loud thumps that came too close together to be normal.  He felt so obvious; discovery seemed impossible to avoid.  Hunched over so low that he was almost on all fours, the man moved silently around the side of the car to and up to the right front fender where he silently waited.  The woman for whom he had come finally exited the car with a soft muttered curse and left her car door open for a moment, then froze as she looked at the house door.  Not strictly drunk, it appeared she still had a good buzz on. 

It was difficult to remember not to hold his breath.  The man breathed shallowly, quietly, as he moved slowly around the front of the car next to the left front headlights and then crouched again, making each move slow, methodical, silent; doing his best to keep his heart rate down.  It was not distracting that he could hear, or feel, each beat of his heart now.  It was just part of the environment of the garage, his own perfect metronome.  Like a hunter, he paused in front of the car.  But he was still careful.  Luck could take you a lot of places, but She could never be trusted to stay in your bed once you got her there. 

A Few Social Drinks Had Quieted That Vague Sense Of Unease or She Really Fucked Up This Time

It had been a fun day, but for some reason nothing could ease the disquiet she’d felt from the moment she’d gotten out of bed this morning.  Jamie had been chiding herself about it all afternoon; the feeling of low level….panic….was both irrational and annoying, and there was nothing she could pinpoint to cause her feelings of anxiety.  The show had gone well with the bimbo author; she’d had a nice afternoon with friends, the drinks had numbed her a little and the drive home had been uneventful.  But she was tired and her feet hurt; home and bed waited. 

She pulled into the garage without a second thought, only becoming aware of the total darkness after she turned her car’s headlights off.  She punched the garage door opener again to shut the door and turned slowly in her seat and looked out the left side view mirror.  She could barely make out the inside surface of the closing garage door, but there was a thin light on the garage floor coming from under the door into her home.  Nothing wrong, but she was still filled with the slightest touch of free-floating anxiety.

Jamie unlocked the car doors, wincing at the suddenly loud noise.  She opened the door and slid out of the driver’s seat.  Opening the door turned on the car’s interior light.  Feeling exposed and rather silly at the same time, she pushed the door shut, trying to make no noise.  This was acceptable because the interior light stayed on for at least another minute. 

There were two dim shapes that looked very much like shoes standing inside right by the door, the door to her home.  Jamie reached inside her purse, held her breath and then closed her eyes.  You’re imagining things, she told herself.  Look again.  I don’t want to do it, she replied to herself.  Do it.  She looked again.  Nothing.  She bent further down, scanning the entire crack.  Nothing. 

Standing by the car door now, she had to hang on to the door handle because her legs were suddenly trembling so badly.  She stared hard at the sliver of light that came from under the door.  Was there someone inside her home?  She slowly backed away from the door towards the front of her car, keeping her right hand in her purse.  Jamie slowly sank to one knee to look under the door.  Nothing.  

His prey still had not sensed his presence.  Suddenly, still looking at the door, with a soft click-clack of high heels on concrete, she mumbled softly under her breath as she backed towards him and then crouched to her knees by the left fender of her car not three feet from him; crouching in order to peer under the bottom of the door that led into her home.  Her moving towards his place of concealment was an incredible coincidence, but he was more than willing to take advantage of it.  

She knelt down even further and her attacker paused again, listening for any indication of further movement from the woman.  How far was he away from the corner of the car?  How far was she?  Was she watching?  Was she waiting?  Had she heard something?  Which way was she looking? 

Now he moved again too.  And as he slowly stood upright so that he towered over the woman that faced away from him, he felt that first major burst of adrenaline, a quickening of the senses that lightened his arms and chest.  It was almost like a runner’s high, a heady preternatural awareness, a feeling of almost invulnerability.  Almost.  But he refused to let the feeling take full control of him. 

Another soft step and he had fully left the cover of her vehicle and he towered over the kneeling woman.  Only more left to take.  Moving as lightly as he could, his shoes were noiseless on the cold concrete.  The man’s eyes were fixed on the woman’s narrow shoulders ahead of him.  He trained the stun gun on the neck exposed above this space, his mind a sudden spin of instinct and calculation.  He had imagined this moment for hours, but suddenly he was uncertain.  Then she stood to open the door into her home and the decision was made for him. 

She rose to her feet, and then froze.  The soft hairs on the back of her neck had suddenly prickled while all her random fears crowded in all at once.  A charge of panic ran up her spine at a soft scurrying sound behind her.  Her hand was coming out of her purse with the small 32 caliber pistol she was licensed to carry there, but before she could turn, she was literally paralyzed by a massive electrical shock and suddenly saw stars. 

“Aaaaggggggghh!”  It was the only sound of which she was capable of making. 

She wasn’t a crying woman, but tears flooded her eyes at that moment.  Even as her system shut down and blackness approached, she was filled both with panic and an incredible feeling of sickness at how close to safety she’d been. 

Suddenly his prey stood upright and froze.  Somehow she knew, but she had no time for defense and it was remarkably easy to make one lunging move from behind and take her – the poor little thing never knew what hit her.  After one pitiful moan, her purse dropped with a clunk, beating her to floor by less than a second. 

The blonde TV whore was his.  It may have been dark outside, but he suddenly felt lighter inside.  It was time for the games to begin. 

It was a matter of just moments to strip the blazer off, zip cuff her wrists behind her back and then gag her.  The man put the black cotton bag he had lightly sprayed with chloroform over her head and carried Jamie to the back of her car.  He popped the car trunk, put her 115 pound frame and cast-off blazer inside, then tied her elbows, ankles, knees together and finished by tying her ankles to her wrists in a nice, tight reverse hog tie.  The insipid TV bitch wasn’t going anywhere. 

Jamie lay in the dark, unable to move, mind paralyzed with fear, muscles paralyzed by a massive jolt of electricity.  She wanted to lick her dry lips but couldn’t because tape had been put over her mouth.  So close to safety, yet so far away too when someone had rushed at her from behind.  Then to her fearful astonishment, there had been that terrible shocking pain that had literally left her paralyzed. 

Her eyes had been flecked with a million exploding stars and searing heat had run down the back of her neck, and though she had tried, it had been impossible to scream.  Muscles totally paralyzed, she had begun to fall backward when she’d been caught in the powerful arms of someone behind her and lowered to the garage floor.  She knew instinctively that this person was the cause of her paralysis, not her savior.  She’d tried to move, to fight, but her limbs just jerked uncontrollably and twitched as she lay on the cold concrete.  Then her arms were roughly pulled behind her back, her wrists bound and something, tape perhaps, placed over her lips and mouth.  It was impossible to move; she felt everything, understood everything he did, but couldn’t move a finger to fight him. 

Finally, she felt something heavy and cold and wet, and which smelled like a hospital, cover her face.  She felt herself picked up and carried in the man’s strong arms.  She was lowered into something and then tied, elbows, knees and ankles, in an incredibly painful and completely debilitating backward arching position.  Jamie had a sudden, terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach, like an indestructible bubble that couldn’t be popped.  Her hands were becoming numb and her heart raced harder than she’d ever imagined possible. 

Her brain flooded with pain messages, each one felt with horrible clarity.  The sickly sweet smell made it difficult to breathe, but it was her vision that went first.  It didn’t go dim or dark, it brightened instead.  It got full of mad whirling silver shapes that flashed horizontally right to left.  Like a fairground ride running a thousand times too fast.  Then she began to see a sequence of crazy dreams, urgent and breathless and vivid.  Full of action and color.  Afterwards, she realized that the start of the dreams marked the point where she had officially lost consciousness, lying in the trunk of her car.

Still wearing gloves, the man screwed the garage lights back in and then went to her dropped purse.  He bent over and felt a sudden chill go up his spine as he saw the snub-nosed pistol half out of the purse on the floor.  The bitch had a pistol.  The bitch had been carrying a fucking PISTOL!!!  All he’d wanted was a little fun, a little entertainment, and the fucking whore could have killed him on the spot.  Suddenly furious, he lunged back to the trunk of the car on legs stiff with anger and proceeded to hit the arrogant bitch in the belly a couple of times.  At first, he’d planned on getting his nuts off a couple of times and then setting her free.  But the stakes of the game had just gone up; she’d changed them….big time! 

Still feeling angry, and truth be told, a little lucky at the same time, he shook out his rain coat and removed his shoes before he went into her home carrying her small purse.  He wanted some of her things to dress her up for the videos he planned on taking of bitch Jamie during her upcoming “trials.”  The attacker left his gloves on as he searched her bedroom, discovering a surprising number of sexy dresses, lingerie and other items that appealed to him. 

With what he saw, he could make some informed assumptions about her.  She felt threatened enough by her celebrity that she’d made a point of getting a Class A weapons permit….not too dumb there.  She was neat, but not fastidious, and preferred couturiers to department stores.  She was medium on top and long in the legs despite her height.  That she had her hair dyed at the hairdressers, but touched it up occasionally herself with L’Oreal.  Her scent was Rain, and although her favorite colors were shades of blue, she hadn’t been afraid to experiment.  That she was proud of those long legs of hers – she had more dresses than pantsuits, more skirts and shorts than slacks, and although she wore plain white cotton thongs, she wasn’t averse to shelling out the big bucks for high-end stockings and pantyhose, and she well understood the value of stiletto heels.  Multiple garterbelts for her beloved stockings, but the sexy satin nightgown in her closet looked like it hadn’t been worn in awhile.  Jamie and her husband had definitely liked to play erotic games at one time, but not anymore?  That was more than fine with him.  He didn’t like other men fucking with his women.  Grabbing a spare pillow case, he gathered up a few of the things he liked the most and took them with him. 

Clearly, they paid the bitch too much money.  The young man in her home wasn’t a style fascist, but even he recognized some of the big names represented in her closet.  He grabbed a ruffled, dusty-rose Antonio Berardi mini-dress, a short grey Valentino Couture tunic, a short red Carolina Herrera frock, a black above-the-knee Dolce and Gabbana cocktail dress, a short and strapless soft pink Azzaro dress, and finished his acquisitions with a simple black Jill Sander evening gown.  And then there were a couple of nice teddies, a corset and a cupless bustier.  For heels, he grabbed a pair of red Brian Atwood pumps, black and red pairs of Christian Louboutin strappy stilettos and peep toes, and a pair of light grey Atwood pumps.  Once he’d broken her, he’d make her dress up for him.  But now it was time to put his imagination back under control, head back to his loft and see how it was all going to come together with the pretty lady he’d just bagged and tagged. 

The man threw Jamie’s purse and the bag of goodies he’d collected into the trunk along with his prize, unscrewed the trunk light and then drove Jamie’s car around to his.  The lot was still dark and with the two cars parked back to back, it was easy to unobtrusively transfer the unresisting woman and booty into his car trunk.  He then drove Jamie’s car back into her garage and after returning the driver’s seat back to where she had originally set it, he opened his umbrella, stepped over the garage door electric eye and walked out as the garage door closed behind him. 

It would appear to her husband and police that she had come home and then disappeared, perhaps of her own accord.  He had left no fingerprints and there no signs of break-in except for a couple of missing dresses and two minor cuts on the alarm wires on one garage window.  The only real evidence that might indicate she had been taken was in trunk of her car; and would only become apparent if they thought to do a detailed forensic analysis. 

Of course, there was mud outside, but if they looked for footprints and found any, none would fit him since he had cut off the soles of shoes about three sizes too small and glued them to shoes that actually fit him.  Her disappearance would be a puzzle, at least until he’d had time to finish with local television’s current goddess of the hour.  (By the way, the forensic guys were better than he had expected and immediately found his footprints.  However, according to the size/depth chart used to extrapolate body measurements from footprints, he was five foot four and weighed three hundred pounds.  He didn’t flatter himself that he had fooled the detectives, but he thought it might be fun for a lawyer to try explaining that to a jury). 

When the man got back to his car in another fifteen minutes, Jamie was surfing between unconsciousness and short periods of semi-consciousness.  He changed Jamie’s current black hood for one not impregnated with chloroform and headed for his place with his new date. 

Jamie had finally regained full consciousness by the time her captor parked his car.  She was filled with a sudden dread, for she’d had enough police on her show to know that she’d been taken from a primary crime scene to a secondary crime scene.  Secondary crime scenes were where the criminals did all the really nasty stuff to their victims. 

He untied her ankles from her wrists, then removed her ankle and knee bindings, but left her wrists cuffed behind her back and elbows still tied together.  He helped her out of the car trunk, but she was in agony from the reviving flow of blood to her arms and legs.  She could barely stand by herself and even though it made her skin crawl, she had to lean heavily against the man for assistance.  She tried to make one short protest, but nothing came out because of the gag.  But he hit her once in the stomach anyway, just to be cruel.  After that, she remained silent. 

There were no eyeholes.  She could see light and blurred shapes through the loosely woven hood, but nothing else.  Every time she inhaled, the air was a little fresher but the hood then flattened against her face.  It was different from the first one and smelled of industrial-strength laundry soap.  It was one of the few times in her life that she felt totally dependent upon a man, a man that had just kidnapped her. 

The kidnapper led her from the car.  Commands came now, turn left here, up three steps, turn right here.  Now in another room, he finally removed the cotton bag that covered her head.  Jamie took one quick look around.  The fully clothed monster had a loose black cotton hood over his head to hide his identity, but his eyes were still visible.  Frankly appraising, they looked at her with a casual, “I’d like to take your clothes off with my switchblade” stare.  The man stepped back and looked at her again.  It was a studied, staring, lascivious appraisal, from her shoes to her mussed hair, point by point, as if sizing up a piece of meat……or a whore.  He finished by staring intently at her breasts. 

God, she was scared….but she was angry too.  She knew she was still in the city, but the room was too quiet; it had probably been sound-proofed.  There were several mannequin heads in one corner, just as in her dressing room at work where they were used to air out and display wigs.  But here, each sported a different type of leather or rubber hood.  The walls were lined with a complete array of sex toys and other….things….she didn’t recognize.  She peered to the side and could see into a small room in one corner and realized that there were two beds; one was a queen-sized bed here with them in the main room and in the second there was a futon that had been spread out in the small, corner room.

Rubber Integrity, Blind Reality And The Wheels of Justice or Whatcha’ Gonna Do Now, Little Girl

He slapped her face with a strong right hand for her boldness and then stepped in with his other arm extended and suddenly she blacked out again from stun gun she had not even seen.  Jamie surfaced a second time in total darkness, surrounded by the strong smell of rubber.  Slowly, she realized it wasn’t really darkness, but that her eyes had been blindfolded.  It felt as if there was a cloth or bandage pressed against her eyelids and a strap or tape of some kind wrapped around her head to hold the bandages in place.  She tried to move but couldn’t.  She was on her back, her hands and feet bound.  There was even a small patch of tape over her mouth, but mercifully, a small hole had been cut in the area around her lips.  She could breathe through her nose and partially through her mouth.

She felt herself being dragged now with no pretense of gentleness; this was immediately followed by the sense of falling and then the shock of icy cold water on her face.  God!  She somehow knew she was in a body bag that had been thrown into water.  Just as she forced her face up to the small slit that had been left unzipped, the bag rolled, submerging her face in cold, but not quite freezing water. 

Jamie fought rising panic, even as the smell of wet rubber grew stronger and stronger.  Cold water had trickled down the front of her body, and she was simultaneously freezing and sweating.  She felt real terror.  Air!  How was she going to breathe?  She arched her body and her face surfaced again.  She inhaled great lungfuls of air through her nose.  Suddenly her face went under water again just as she finished inhaling. 

When she came up this time, she coughed into her gag.  Burning stomach acid came up into her mouth and then out one of her nostrils.  Soon, the body bag was half full of water and she floated low as the little air trapped inside the body bag puddled around her shoulders and kept her head upright. 

Still clothed, she rolled helplessly in the bag, her face alternatively submerged and then free.  The level of freezing water continually rose higher inside the bag, eventually rising above the level of her breasts.  She was freezing and didn’t know how long she’d been in the bag, but it seemed like hours.  The bag dipped under the surface of the water again and again, and more poured in around her face, each time the fresh cold shocking her and taking away her ability to breathe.  She was absolutely terrified now.  The panic never went away and no matter how much she tried to calm down, her heart raced and her lungs screamed for more air, more air.  She was freezing, exhausted, ready to give up and drown, but the feeling of sheer terror still never left. 

Suddenly, after an eternity of almost drowning in the freezing water, the heavy, sopping-wet bag was pulled out.  She was held upright by her immensely strong captor and the bag unzipped, allowing the water captured inside to drain away.  The tape was removed from around her eyes for just a moment and the bag pulled away from her shaking, goose-bump prickled body.  Before he hooded her again, she realized that she was standing in a dark garage in a puddle of freezing water next to a small above-ground pool, shaking with a cold that had chilled her to the bone.  Small amounts of steam rose from the water so it was definitely warmer than the air around it, but it was still far too cold to withstand for very long.  Her skin and hair were wet, her legs shook; her body ached and she felt too stiff to move.  Even though her skin was icy cold to the touch, she was somehow sweating too. 

But the man wasn’t finished with her yet as he dragged her back inside his lair.  At least it was warmer inside, and even though she felt permanently frozen, she knew she would finally warm here, even though it might take a little time. 

Impatient, he now pulled off the wet cotton hood and began to pull a full-head leather hood over her wet and freezing head.  With horror, Jamie realized that Velcro patches covered the mouth and eyes of the hood.  She was shaking from the cold, her wet hair still smelled of chloroform and wet rubber, but she still struggled weakly against him as he pulled it over her head.  In the end though, she was a small woman, exhausted and freezing, and he handled her easily. 

Before he pulled the new hood all of the way down over her head, he leaned over and fiercely whispered in her ear that she needed to be quiet.  Jamie couldn’t help herself; his threatening tone paralyzed her as he pulled the tape from over mouth.  Her teeth chattered and clicked with the cold and exhaustion now, making her unable to say a word.  Then he emphasized his command by rapping her hard on the back of her skull.  On top of torturing her, he seemed also perpetually angry about something, and she was paying the price for his anger. 

He finished hooding her, then forced her jaws open and gagged her again before he fastened the eye covers, this time using a professional gag.  A lost opportunity, you stupid bitch he whispered into her other ear when he had finished.  More uncontrollable chills ran down her spine as he whispered in the first ear: If you were the type of woman that knew how to be a woman, were a woman that did exactly what she was told to do, things would go more easily for you.  But I’m pretty sure that’s not your style; you’d rather be the man in the relationship.  So we’re going to start your training now rather than wait until you’ve actually earned it. 

The eyeholes in the leather helmet were covered and she was blind.  Her mouth was filled with hard, pear-shaped rubber and she couldn’t make a sound, let alone an intelligible word.  Too, the helmet cut down on her hearing.  She was freezing, but Jamie still felt like she’d been put into some kind of sensory deprivation tank.  The only thing that kept her warm was the thought of how long he would be sentenced to prison for this.  And for that to happen, she had to try to remember as much as she could.  His build, his voice, any sounds that might come from outside.  Anything that would help the police find him after she’d been released.  She had to keep thinking that no matter how bad it got, he would always release her in the end. 

Then all rational thought fled as she felt him begin to cut off her sodden clothing with a knife, felt his fingers going to her blouse, to the buttons on her chest.  Her bowels turned to frozen water and for the first time, she really feared for her life.  Even though she knew she would be warmer if her wet clothes were gone, she found herself saying over and over again, “Don’t.  Please don’t.”  But nothing came out; her voice could not be heard and only now was real awareness of her desperate situation seeping through to her, trickling cold acid through her veins.  “Please.  Don’t do this.”  But he would not stop. 

Suddenly, she was filled with rage.  She wanted to be tall, to overwhelm this man with the force of her rage, but she felt that first primal urge rising in her again, the desire to cower and shrink from his gaze.  Nearly naked before this man, naked and blind, she had never felt weaker.  After a moment, she began a hopeless struggle.  Then she received another massive blow to the stomach.  Retching, trying not to vomit into the gag, Jamie crouched over protectively, frozen in her pain and misery.

Then he forced her upright once more as his hands began to touch her again, all over her body.  Examining the small of her back, her armpits.  There was a pause.  Still nothing.  Her bra came off now, but unhooked slowly, an obscene parody of a lover’s touch that made her stomach churn.  She shuddered in fear and disgust.  Soaking wet bra removed, he tied her elbows tightly together again.  She’d waited too long to try anything; she was helpless! 

Next he slowly cut off her jeans.  Then two male hands were pulling her soaking panties down around her ankles, exposing her entirely.  Reflexively, she tried to cover herself, but he quickly pulled her upright with brutally powerful hands that squeezed her arms too hard for too long.  He liked to hurt her, he was too strong to deny and she now stood upright as he demanded, uncovered.  He now rubbed her skin, quickly, efficiently, bringing the blood flowing back to her extremities; the pain of returning blood was exquisite, horrible.  She wanted to be strong, but still fought the urge to weep as she stood in nothing but her wet heels.  She didn’t want to give him that victory, but her knees were shaking so hard at this point that she could barely stand by herself.  To deny him her tears, that was her only resistance now.  But it was so hard to hold them back. 

She knew this might be the end, here, now; knew it so deeply and so well that when her jeans had gone down and her panties immediately followed and she had then felt his manhood, large and hard against her thigh, everything swirled and she nearly fainted with the knowledge. 

But she didn’t; she wasn’t that lucky. 

Warmer now, but still naked except for her heels and the sensory-depriving helmet, Jamie felt herself pushed to the floor, forced to kneel on what felt like a mat made of coarse hemp fibers.  The rough and prickly material bit at her flesh as she knelt for what seemed hours on bared knees, but which in reality must have been only minutes.  Her captor next tied a thin rope to her cuffs, ran it down between her butt crack and thighs, and then up the front of her body to the top of the helmet he’d forced on her.  The man tied the rope to something on the top of the leather hood and pulled it so tight that her head was bowed down almost between her knees.  She was bound and there was nothing she could do about it.  She panic’d, she just couldn’t get enough air to breathe.  But nothing she did helped and she thought for the second time tonight that she might suffocate and pass out, might even die here and now. 

The man slowly circled the bound woman as he savored his victory.  The hooded bitch knelt on the rough mat in what would become her cell.  The kidnapped woman had an absolutely gorgeous body.  High firm breasts that were larger than one might expect from her build…possibly implants.  Nicely shapely thighs and a pair of killer calves.  Tight, cold skin that had a lot of goose bumps right now but which would eventually warm up, firm hips and buttocks without saddlebags or a trace of cellulite.   Flat belly and tiny waist.  Pubic area and legs waxed. 

Very nice, very nice indeed. 

The male voice was close beside her now, so close he seemed almost inside her head despite the blanketing helmet.  “You.  You!  YOU had a gun, you bitch!  You,” he ended up whispering, “and every other woman like you are going to pay for that.  You’re just pieces of meat to me, empty vessels waiting for men like me to pour ourselves into.  Your empty souls need purpose, discipline.  And when, in only a few more hours you are broken, when you are finally ready for me, I am going to mount you like a fucking baboon……I swear I will.  And you will at that time have learned to respond, in every way, to make me happy.” 

Mentally, she was still devastated by her time in the body bag, but his tone, his words, the visions they engendered brought on an even more overwhelming sense of frailty and her doom.  Suddenly, Jamie felt a series of light to medium, yet sharp blows on her back and upper buttocks followed by the rope that bound her into a bow being untied and then tugged upwards.  Jamie tried to struggle to her feet in her stilettos, but her captor slapped her on the side of the head and without saying a word pushed her back down to her knees.  He pulled on the rope again and she tried to struggle up to her feet, only to be slapped and pushed down again, but even harder this time.  Every time she tried to obey his unspoken command to rise, he pushed her down again and hit her a little harder.  He was crazy – why did he do these things, what did he want? 

The man’s captive quickly learned to accept her initial behavioral training with minimal cries and moans.  He knew she was an emotional bully to those that worked with and for her.  And like all bullies, she could dish out the punishment, but found it hard to take herself.  She was already more submissive at this point than he had imagined she might be, but this did not necessarily please him.  The more she seemed to accept her fate early on, the more she took on the psychology of a victim.  But perversely, the more she submitted in the very beginning, the more he wanted to punish her, to make her pay for not being stronger, for not fighting him more. 

The kidnapper led a blind, wobbly, still cold Jamie out of her cell towards two floor-to-ceiling wooden timbers located in the center of the room.  The 8” x 8” rough-cut beams were five feet apart and a series of metal eye bolts and hooks ran from floor to ceiling on the two sides that faced each other; cuffs hung facing each other at ankle height and about seven feet off the floor.  The man was prepared for battle as he released her elbows and wrists, but the small woman’s arms were almost paralyzed at the shoulders from having her elbows so tightly bound together. 

Again, he became more frustrated with her meekness as he strapped her in so high with wrist restraints that only her toes touched the floor.  It really was as if she were resigned to what they both knew was going to take place. 

It was late, but he didn’t feel tired at all.  The adrenaline had kicked in and the anticipatory excitement had grabbed him.  While this place had once been part of an old factory, now the two of them were about to enter a world here that he had spent a long time creating.  It was a world that was entirely his, a world he had built and had now peopled with the first of his temporary ladies.  The man looked on in silence at the woman he had kidnapped.  He felt like a god….and the meat he’d brought in looked pretty damn good to him. 

Her wrists were tied above her head to either side.  It felt like he’d used barbed wire around her wrists and the quick onset of cramps in her shoulders made her feel immediately entombed in pain.  Horribly, Jamie felt him spread her legs wide as he strapped her ankles a grotesque distance apart to each side.  She was helpless now, helpless and horribly exposed sexually. 

He used his hands in a soft cupping motion and soon she felt her nipples harden despite, or perhaps because of her fear.  Suddenly, there was a burning, crushing pain in her right nipple, followed a minute later by the same pain in her left.  Jamie shook her head back and forth, and she felt sweat break out all over her body, but somehow she kept silent.  It was only after her nipples had been pulled painfully towards each other and then pulled steadily and agonizingly downward did she really begin to scream into her gag. 

Now the terrible man that had kidnapped her began to run something both prickly and piercingly sharp all over her body.  It went everywhere, front and back, between her legs and breasts, everywhere.  The tiny but incredibly intense points of continuously piercing pain made her nervous system feel as if it were being overloaded.  But her kidnapper clearly didn’t care about her welfare and began puncturing her skin faster and faster, harder and harder. 

“This,” he said viciously, his breath jerking with effort, “is what you get for trying to stop me from taking what I wanted with your fucking tiny-assed pistol.” 

Jamie was crying out almost constantly now, but her moans and screams were still muffled by the gag that completely filled her mouth.  “Mmmphh, mmmpphh, mmppHHH!”

Her slowly warming body was shuddering all over and her beautiful chest was heaving for air as she tried to breathe through her nose.  She continued to struggle uselessly against the bonds that held her hands and ankles in place, but already her struggles had lessened as her strength gave out. 

Jamie screamed, but no one heard her….except for herself.  Her screams were like paper cuts – sharp, deep…….and bloodless.  And they never stopped.

God damn, she was gorgeous!  The man knew he was slowly taking this beautiful young woman apart, one beautiful nerve ending after another.  But there was no hesitation in his moves for he totally fucking loved what he was doing to the arrogant bitch!  She certainly deserved anything he did to her.  He had so looked forward to this moment and there was nothing she could do about it, no matter how hard she shrieked for his mercy.  There was no doubt in his mind that she’d asked for every minute of it by her actions alone in her previous life as a television personality. 

After a moment’s thought, he bent forward and attached a device to each of her hard, pink nipples.  Each one was made out of chromed metal and looked like a miniature church dome or the top of a church bell.  The pieces were designed to fit neatly over the recipient’s nipple, with an attached clip inside on a spring that attached to the nipple and pulled the cupped metal device tightly against the whore’s skin.  But because the bell-shape was more strongly curved than the tip of her breasts, the end stood out from her nipples.  Thus, the device was always pulling on the nipples, stretching the clamped flesh towards the end of the cup that stood off from the breast.  The TV bitch wriggled desperately, helplessly, but could not prevent the clips from painfully biting onto her nipples and then pulling on them, stretching them out as they became the sole piece of skin by which the cups were clamped so tightly against her breasts. 

After another minute of struggles, she let out a little moan, and despite his current anger towards her, he could feel himself harden at the muffled sounds the helpless woman was making.

He gave the TV slut a five minute respite and just when he was sure that she thought he’d finished torturing her, he began using the sharpened Wartenburg Wheels all over again.  But this time, he had the wheel in one hand while he played used the other to play with the slut’s clit as he masturbated her.  The man did this four different times and when he had finally finished, her firm little clit stood out like a female erection while her beautiful flesh was dotted with too many tiny pin pricks to count, many leaking their own miniscule drops of blood or serous fluid.  At the end, her skin shone like the canvas of an artist, wet and slick with the residue of sweat and the tiny rivulets of blood which had coalesced from the multitude of tiny piercings that now laced her arms and legs and belly. 

He crooked left hand and put it under his right elbow.  His right hand cupped his chin as he tilted his head to view the captive slut.  She might be getting bored, he thought to himself; time to change stimuli. 

The bound woman acted almost grateful at the first blow of the flog.  Perhaps, he smiled; she might be one of those whores that really got into this sort of thing.  Once, twice, and then came a barrage of light to medium blows, each adding to the pattern of light welts that already crisscrossed the soft skin of her belly and groin and high on the insides her thighs.  He listened to her muffled screams.

“Mmmpphh, mmpphHH, MMPPHHH!”

Nothing special there so it’s on to her back, he decided.  Not too hard, for the man didn’t want to leave deep welts.  But he wouldn’t stop either until he had satiated his blood lust and need to just fucking dominate this bitch.  Then he finished her off with a quick flurry of unmerciful blows just to get the job done….nothing like a little TCB…….taking care of business, that is. 

The cries that emanated from under the mask built towards a softened crescendo that inarticulately begged for mercy, but there was none for the TV whore that night.  The kidnapped woman hung motionless from her bonds now even as his continually increasing disgust for her submissive femininity seemed to all but overwhelm him.  He beat her harder now than he had originally planned and suddenly she began to squirm and struggle again, for somehow she had found new reserves of strength to pull against the leather and steel that held her arms and legs locked in place, bindings that had allowed the agony to accumulate inside her. 

At the end, filled with frustration and disgust, he spat on her naked, bloody body, his chest heaving with his previous effort.  He smiled to himself; she’d never disrespect another man!

There’s A Fine Line Between Pleasure And Pain or But This Just Hurts Like A Mother-Fucker

She wanted nothing more than to escape from the pain, but for once in her young life, a man she could not control, could not intimidate or stop, had taken control of everything.  Tears were streaming from her eyes under the leather mask, for her beating had now turned into a primitive symphony of pain as his leather straps caressed her soft flesh over and over again. 

He had finally stopped and she took the moment to try and catch her breath.  Suddenly, she sensed him standing near her and somehow knew he had returned.  He grabbed her head and pulled it down and forward, putting the back of her head into his armpit and pushing her chin onto her chest.  Her head was immobilized and she felt like she would suffocate.  With his other hand, he pulled the back of the leather helmet up off of her neck and suddenly she felt a terrible burning pain just below her hairline on the nape of her neck. 

Jamie bucked like a manic horse, but to no avail for he was far too strong.  The pain was shocking!  She could smell burning hair and flesh, and knew it was hers.  She fought back the urge to vomit.  Then she heard him whisper in her ear, “You’re wearing my brand now, baby.  Women like you are nothing more than cattle.  And like any other piece of property, you need to be branded to show ownership.”  She sobbed in horrified weakness, then wobbled and almost passed out again when he let go of her head. 

Dimly, Jamie felt herself being released and carried a short distance, only to be thrown on the full sized bed.  She could barely move and remained motionless as she was forcibly spread-eagled; her wrists and ankles bound to corner bedposts so that she was totally helpless.  Despite her mind floating away from her body, she was exquisitely aware of the man finally releasing whatever he had clamped onto her nipples.  She screamed in pain again as the blood began to return to her nipples and semi-fainted. 

But he was not finished.  After a moment’s respite, a terrible electric pain shot through her body, accompanied by the overpowering smell of ozone.  First on her legs…and then between them….and her stomach….and her chest….and finally her vagina.  His touch was feather light, yet compelling as death.  Jamie thought her heart would stop as she thrashed violently against her bonds as he touched her sweaty, bloodied skin over and over again.  Her body shook and twitched with each of his terrible caresses, but her mind seemed to have temporarily departed her body. 

Finally, he just began to touch her without hurting her.  One hand went to her throat and he squeezed, while his other hand roamed over her body, pinching and pulling.  He pawed her like she’d never been touched before, with a crude insistent hunger; her breasts, her neck, her stomach, between her legs.  His mauling touch was so rapidly invasive that her mind’s understanding always lagged behind the spasms of pain he caused.  She pushed against her bonds and against him with all her strength, with such desperate exertion that she was immediately gasping for air, each breath a sobbing inhalation through just her nostrils.  She had never in her life known she could struggle like this physically, but she was still as helpless as a newborn babe under his touch. 

Suddenly, he lay heavily upon her and she grunted with the impact.  He wedged himself between her widespread thighs and then shifted again.  Now came the moment she had dreaded but had also immediately known as a woman they would eventually arrive at together.  He was quite strong and very heavy; he was masculine and big and he entered her unprepared body with shocking ferocity, complete mastery and total finality.  He was so big and she so dry that she was afraid he’d tear her flesh as he invaded her with uncaring ferocity. 

She couldn’t struggle anymore; it was far too late for that.  And it felt nothing like what she had imagined it would.  She felt crushed, his weight was too much and she could barely breathe.  Even though he was a big man and she’d felt no preparatory desire, she was a healthy young woman and the brutal pain of his dry entry lasted less than a minute before she became fully moist and more easily accommodated his driving manhood. 

But his energy and stamina were immense.  He was hot and big and filled her in a way she had never before known.  In addition to being filled with hot rage, Jamie was also disgusted, disgusted at her sexual vulnerability and feminine weakness, at being dominated by this man, being forced to accept him as her sexual partner, inside her body.  She hated the helplessness of lying beneath him, bound in place for him, while he did whatever he wanted to her, and there truly was nothing she could do to stop him. 

Jamie lay motionless beneath him, trying only to breathe as she denied him any pleasure he otherwise feel.  Her only moves were an occasional moan or cry of pain at a particularly vicious or violently deep thrust.  A totally unfeeling monster, he took everything from her, leaving her nothing but an empty shell in return.  Her pride, her humanity, her purpose in life, the rapist took delight in stealing it all and replacing it with shame at what he did, at what she’d become. 

The smooth, sophisticated veneer she’d consciously cultivated since college had been punctured forever.  She would never trust another man again; never look another man in the face without remembering what this man had done to her….and the realization that any other man was just as capable of doing it too.  She was being sexually…..humiliated, and suddenly felt even more loathing at this latest weakness.  She hated being mentally strong and physically weak.  He had stolen the two things from her that she could never get back – her dignity and pride in her femininity. 

Not a marathon man, he quickly achieved orgasm and she felt a further sense of revulsion and bone-deep disgust at the first scalding-hot jet of his silky fluid as it washed the insides of her vagina.  Multiple lava-like injections later, he was satisfied.   When he had finished, he rested for a moment and finally rolled off of her body, then patted her head in satisfaction and relaxed gratitude like one would a favorite dog.  And in the end, all she had left was her vagina filled with his stinking semen. 

He left her lying on the bed, mute and bound and blind, beaten and naked, raped and exhausted, having experienced a torture that thankfully only a few women must undergo.

He came back and untied her after an hour, or perhaps it had been an eternity, for she had literally lost track of all time.  The humiliation he’d obviously planned for her in his mind continued as the man forced her to kneel on the floor, to then crawl to her cell and finally to cleanse herself like any other common whore.  When Jamie reached the cell, he insisted it must be she that removed the hood.  He treated it like a game and she as if mentally deficient. 

Under his constant derisive directions, a still hooded Jamie crawled blindly to the futon in her room like a mindless slug, nothing but a despicably weak and primitive creature totally controlled by a stronger, yet even more primitive organism.  During this humiliating journey, she felt the smooth wooden floor beneath her knees and his cold bodily fluids as they drained from within her.  And as her strength finally began to give out and she approached physical collapse, the floor first bruised her elbows as she fell from her hands and knees, and then finally it was pressed against the skin of her cheek.  But she still she would not allow him to win and continued to crawl like a weakened and abused snake. 

After endless crawling in a stygian blackness, Jamie finally reached her cell.  Under his constant direction and gloating jibes, she slowly, painfully removed the gag and the hood, this followed by her heels.  She couldn’t remove the nipple clamps herself and so he leaned in close and took them off.  He stepped back with a smile and it was then that she could see for the first time what he had done to her body.  And while her nipples felt bruised and stretched beyond belief, her face and breasts had been left untouched by the whip, but her ass, lower back, upper thighs and belly were a mass of crisscrossing light red welts.  Her arms and legs twitched uncontrollably now the whole time, and a slow whine began in her throat and her breath hitched as started crying in long deep sobs. 

She made only a few belly deep sounds when he slapped her face and said, “No speaking here.  No crying.  Not a fucking sound!  I’ll tell you when you can speak and I’ll tell you how you address me.  Nothing until then!!”  She dully nodded her understanding of his first command, and then continued with her review of what he’d done to her. 

There were hundreds, if not thousands of tiny, tiny pinpricks all over her body.  And there were red marks on her belly and between her legs where he had used something electrical to shock her.  She tentatively felt the back of her neck near her hairline, and after a moment realized that the brand, while still terribly painful, was smaller than she had first thought.  Jamie’s face felt hot and sweaty, and stupidly, she knew her remaining makeup must be badly smeared and that her hair was a mess.  But for the first time in her memory, she no longer cared about her looks. 

She was afraid that he had not finished with her, and Jamie hoped that she might faint now perhaps, but to her continuing disappointment, she still didn’t lose consciousness.  The waves of helplessness and shame and pain and even guilt that she had briefly experienced earlier now washed over her once more, but this time their all-engulfing nature threatened her sanity.  She should have known he’d been in her garage.  She should have been able to stop him.  If only she’d known; had been more aware.  It was all her fault.  She deserved everything he did to her.  And with that last thought, Jamie felt that her world had come to an end. 

But even the lowest among us tries to survive.  Jamie looked around once.  It was a small room.  The door had an electronic key pad on both sides.  It was adequately warm inside and well lit, and contained a stall shower, a toilet, a sink and a futon with a light quilt.  The whole room measured about four or five meters square.  There was an obvious security camera mounted in one corner that her captor had not even discretely hidden. 

She tried to study him unobtrusively, using only quick glances from the corner of her eyes.  He was hyper-masculine; a young, big, heavily muscled white man and wore only his hood and a pair of skin tight black leotards that he had just pulled back on after raping her.  He was flaccid at this point, at least for now, for he had just satisfied himself with her body.  But he was still large and showed fully masculine contours under the tight clothing.  He was taller than average and had a thickly muscled torso.  An expansive rib cage below wide-spread shoulders and a solid abdominal wall that rose like the wall of a fortress; it all was matched in proportion by the rest of his body.  The sweat on his flat belly was dry and his flat, heavily muscled stomach was streaked red with her blood.  Next to him, she looked like a child suffering from malnutrition.  All of this added a solid presence to his power over her. 

The back of her neck was knotted with such anxiety that she could not think rationally.  She hated the psychological boundaries of the setting, for he looked like an executioner from hundreds of years ago, and in every way that counted, Jamie somehow knew that she had become the victim and he thought himself her new master.  Somehow it seemed they both felt that she would in the end do anything he wanted, that she would give him everything she held of value just to survive. 

The kidnapper looked down on the wreck of a woman he had just taken so thoroughly and felt nothing but contentment.  The gleam of I showed you, you nasty bitch satisfaction showed through the temporary fatigue on his face.  There was nothing, he thought to himself, nothing like using an unwilling woman in terrible ways to make a man feel, well….carefree and removed at the end.  He’d thought he would get used to it, but he hadn’t.  Even more, there was a kind of cocksure attitude that overtook a man in this position even as he had removed the last trace of arrogance from a beautiful woman’s face; a kind of you’re the one that just got used and I’m not…I enjoyed it and you deserved every minute of it. 

He shook his head.  There was just something about controlling an exceptionally good looking woman that brought out the worst in him.

Tears filled Jamie’s eyes as she silently shrunk away from the masked monster as he carefully wet a wash cloth and washed her body with gentle, caressing hands.  He became a little upset at her behavior and said, “You’re a cunt to me.  Everything’s fucking different here for cunts.  Don’t move unless I tell you that you can.  You don’t obey me; even the simplest of my rules, that means you’ve just earned massive fucking punishment.  And after what I’ve already done to you, you know I can fuck you over all day long without raising a sweat.  So, here’s the situation; you can do it the simple way, by obeying me in whatever I demand…..” he stopped and shook his head as he stared into her teary brown eyes, “or you can do it hard and stupid, and pay the price every fucking time.”  “Honestly,” he said as if talking to himself; “why do I think that you are nothing but a fucking dumbass whore that has never been capable of learning anything the easy way?”

He finished treating the multitude of tiny puncture wounds on her skin with a thin veneer of antibiotic cream and then left her with a couple of raw potatoes and an apple for dinner, alone to ponder her fate for the rest of the night.  He’d ordered her to stare straight ahead, to remain motionless and not to touch her food until he left. 

She tried to not look at him as he cleaned her up, but that was impossible.  He moved purposefully, his body language contradictory; soothing care alternating with anger and a fierce projection of his dominance over her.  His voice had stopped her for a second.  There was no harshness in it, at least for now, even as he treated the damage he had caused; no kindness either or surprise at how far it had gone.  His eyes behind the hood had almost no color; there was nothing to judge them by.  It was if he had exhausted all the anger and violence he’d shown towards her earlier with the act of cumming inside her. 

But despite his unbelievable demands regarding her behavior when he was around her, with this last act of care, he had in effect demanded that Jamie’s mind return to the surface to interact with him; in this somehow she was able to obey.  But soon their time together was over and he was gone.  Eventually the dark waves came back and her mind succumbed again to the almost drug-like need to shut down. 

He was gone now and she felt a little safer, at least for the moment.  Still feeling frozen inside, Jamie wasn’t hungry and ignored the food he’d left.  Slowly, awkwardly, painfully, she rose from the futon and drank from the faucet.  Then she wiped herself clean between her legs with the used wash cloth he’d left behind.  Jamie touched her new brand one more time as she lay down on the bed, then she covered her chest with one arm and put her other hand between her legs, before crying herself to sleep.  Her body convulsed and she hiccupped one last time.  Her last waking thought was of the masked man and what he’d done to her, and what he might do tomorrow.  Visions and memories of the last couple of hours hovered behind her eyes, a raw reminder of how bad a turn her life had just taken. 

Jamie did not sleep well, but she did not re-surface that night either.

Day Two

A Life Harsher Than Death or Being Beautiful Had Unexpected Downsides

Jamie remembered lying on the futon last night, trembling, going from cold to hot and back again; staring at the walls in a complete state of shock.  She was married, her husband traveled a lot, and they had come to some basic agreements about their relationship.  But she had never dreamed she could be kidnapped in Boston, tortured and then held captive as a sex object.  She began to sob softly again.  Her kidnapper was a terrible maniac and she was so afraid. 

Jamie didn’t know how or when, but she must have fallen asleep again because she suddenly awoke, sensing a presence standing next to her.  Startled, she looked up and saw the executioner standing over her again with his arms crossed over his massive chest.  But this time, he wore only a black half hood/mask that left the lower part of his face uncovered along with the black tights.  His harshly sculpted face below the mask bore a shadow of a beard.  He was as tall and strongly built as she remembered from last night, and his nipples stuck out from his lightly furred chest like beads. 

She didn’t understand where she was until the memories of last night flooded back.  Her lower lip quivered and her eyes teared as she remembered being tortured and…raped….by him.  The rape…..it just wasn’t right….it wasn’t fair….women like her weren’t raped like some common street walker. 

He continued to silently look down on her but she was too frightened at first to move.  His terrible, icy silent presence enveloped her; she felt its breath go right through her, coursing through her body like a thick, invisible mist.  Suddenly shivering in fear, Jamie felt totally alone, so vulnerable that she became dizzy.  Before her, a bottomless pit was opening, her body, her veins were freezing.  She wanted to die.  But she couldn’t help herself and instead began to cry uncontrollably as she tried to cower in the corner. 

His voice filled with disgust, he gave her one chance to void her bladder and bowels “…before they began.”  Fearful of what it meant, of what he might have planned, she painfully scrambled to her feet and moved stiffly to the toilet.  He gave her five minutes, just enough time.

When she came back, he threw her roughly on the mattress.  She dropped to her knees and then lay on her side.  Suddenly, he was on the bed, his knees straddling her body, pinning her.  Too late, she saw that there was a new outfit on the bed cushion. 

In a quick move, the masked man was on the pad, turning her over, putting his legs on either side of her body, trapping her arms with the bedcover wrapped over on her back.  She fought a little until his left hand suddenly filled with her hair; he pulled back roughly on her head and his right hand slapped her hard on the cheek.  Jamie felt all her strength suddenly leave as she went boneless and still.  He grabbed her lower jaw and then forced in a large black rubber ball gag he had ready. 

First off the stack of items on the mattress was a blindfold that he slipped over her eyes, followed by a piece of tape that locked the gag in her mouth.  By this time, she was fighting him again.  But he just grabbed a wrist, twisted it behind her back and snapped on a handcuff, threw her onto her stomach and within seconds, she was helpless with both hands cuffed behind her back.

Still sitting on Jamie’s back, he pulled what seemed like a latex cap over her hair and then wrapped athletic tape around her head.  The pain of her brand competed with the frightening smell of fresh rubber as a tight helmet with only two small openings for the nose came next.  Finally, he painfully pushed tubes up each nostril so that she could breathe.  She felt him smooth out wrinkles on the helmet and then lace it down the back.  Finally, the gag was driven even deeper into her mouth as her kidnapper tightened the hood behind her head.

He undid her cuffs and began to work what must have been a tight rubber jacket top over her head.  The man had too many unusual things prepared for her; clearly, this had not been a spur of the moment kidnapping.  Jamie suddenly realized that he must have long been prepared for this moment because the rubber garment was specially designed for a woman her size, having been created with tight openings in the front through which the man now painfully extruded her breasts. 

Next he worked the jacket over her arms.  Blinded by the helmet, she still tried to fight him again to the very end when, her hands were forced into mittens that were attached to the end of each sleeve.  The end came quickly however, as he brutally hammered her multiple times in the stomach and chest.  Finally, she had to stop because she had run out of oxygen. 

Now, he knelt on her back, buckling her elbows together behind her back while he tightened laces on the back of the jacket until she could barely breathe.  It was far worse than any imaginable corset.  Last, he buckled the ends of the mitts together under her protruding breasts and laced the helmet to the neck of the jacket. 

She was absolutely helpless in his hands now. 

The man lifted Jamie to her knees, leaving her forehead resting on the futon.  Jamie groaned once pitiably as he brutally massaged her breasts as they hung down freely from where they had been squeezed through the holes in the jacket.  She felt him tie a thin rope around her neck and run it between her legs.  From the back, he then put his knee between her legs, rested his thigh against her buttocks and pulled on the rope, forcing her head down almost onto her knees.  With her hips pinned by his thigh, Jamie was forced to bend tightly at the waist and push her butt in the air.  The man threaded the rope through a ring in the rubber suit at the back of waist, and she was totally at his mercy again. 

Speaking as he worked, the man described each step in loving detail.  “First, we’ve got to get you cleaned up inside a little….coming at you with a little nozzle now.  Sluts like you must be used to getting themselves hosed down.”  Without her really understanding what his warning entailed, he suddenly rammed what felt like a fire hydrant about four or five inches up into her rear-end.  She squealed and tried to buck a little and raise her head, but the ropes were too strong and her body barely moved.  The only evidence of her desperate struggles was the creak of rubber giving a little before it stopped her in her tracks. 

It was hard to hear him but she was certain that he was moving around.  After another moment, he stood behind her once more and said, “And now we got the wash cycle.”  And with a huff, he did something that made Jamie feel as if she’d been hooked to God’s fire hydrant and the water turned on.  She felt an immediate “filling” sensation in her intestines as he forced lukewarm water through her rectum and up into her colon….he was giving her a forced enema!  God!  It was awful.  The direct sensation of terrible fullness increased and increased, giving her an almost irresistible to urge to defecate, even as her stomach and abdomen instantaneously began to cramp over the large amount of fluids he was forcing inside her body. 

When the man was finished, he banged her forehead against the floor once to get her attention and said, “If you have any hope of surviving the rest of your little vacation with me, keep every drop inside you until I’m ready for you to release.”  The tone of his voice let her know that he meant what he said and she immediately locked her sphincter up like it was protecting fort Knox…..but it was so terribly uncomfortable. 

The longer the fluid remained inside her, the harder it was to keep fighting the urge to just let go, to just let it out.  The masked man left her alone in her misery for what seemed hours, but eventually he stood behind her once more and said, “I’m going to move you so that you can empty yourself.  Don’t let a drop go until I’ve given you permission.” 

With that, he effortlessly picked her up and carried her over to what must have been her toilet.  He flipped her over and mounted her on the toilet seat, carelessly aiming her ass-cheeks towards the water-filled, ceramic bowl.  A gently pat on the head was accompanied by his permission to relax.  When Jamie let go, there was a rush of fluid from her bowels that was accompanied by the most glorious feeling of total relief.  She grunted as she strained a couple of times to get it all out and when she was finished, he picked her up once more, held her upside down as if she weighed no more than a stuffed teddy bear, while he humiliatingly wiped her bottom clean and then deposited her back on her mattress, laying her on her knees/chins with her forehead touching the futon once more. 

It was all so embarrassing to Jamie, but she had no doubt that that was exactly how he wanted her to feel.  Regardless of her intellectual understanding of what he did, it still worked though. 

He looked at his captive whore and had no doubt that she’d fight him on this.  The lubricated, battery-powered butt plug was large and coarsely threaded, about seven inches long and perhaps an inch and a half in diameter at the tip, the shaft then narrowing to a thin ring towards the base that was about an inch in diameter before it flanged out again at the very end. 

The man grunted softly with effort as if working at a hobby and the black rubber object disappeared slowly from sight as he it twisted in; he proceeded slowly, carefully, to avoid perforating her colon.  But, even bound as she was, the TV slut cried out and struggled against what she probably felt was a shocking and excruciatingly painful perversion, making him work to keep her positioned to fully receive his gift. 

Finally, it had almost disappeared, so he untied the rope and pushed her flat on her stomach.  He was thoroughly annoyed by a similar fighting reaction when he inserted the even bigger dildo into the TV whore’s pussy.  It was eight inches long and two inches in diameter, but he was nothing if not insistent.  In the end, there was nothing the bound woman could do to stop him and soon she enjoyed both of his toys to their maximum depth. 

Although small, the woman was desperate and strong; he had to admit that her struggles had given him an immense feeling of satisfaction along with a sense of great anticipation!  But with her looks, it was all worth it.   He was covered with sweat at the end as he sat back on his knees and smiled to himself.  Like he’d always heard; big woman, big pussy, small woman, all pussy.

Releasing his hold on the TV slut’s ankles, he pulled a pair of latex panties up around her waist and then finished with skin-tight rubber pants that laced at her crotch.  Even though the dildos must have made it uncomfortable to move her legs quickly, she still occasionally kicked at him blindly and weakly, but he easily avoided her feeble attempts at self-defense.  He didn’t feel the need to punish her for them.  In fact, they had only turned him on, for he loved the way that rubber constricted and shaped a woman’s body, yet never hid anything of her charms. 

When he’d laced her pants shut at the back over the crack of her ass, he ran the jacket’s crotch strap between her legs.  She gave muffled squeals of outrage as he pulled hard on the crotch strap several times to ensure it was nice and extra tight, before fastening it at the small of her back.  He enjoyed the way her body involuntarily arched when he did that, for with this act he knew that he’d driven his toys even more deeply and securely into the sultry, slutty TV bitch.  The tight crotch strap only ensured they stayed buried that way.  And her belly-deep groan of final acceptance at the end had been like music to his ears. 

At this point, the captive woman lay on the futon like a mannequin; bound and gagged, fully penetrated and fully stoppered in all three orifices…..there was no fight left in her.  Next he pulled an inexpensive pair of fake leather high-heeled boots over her feet that laced to the knees; luckily the boots fit almost like stockings. 

When he was finished, she looked good, real good.  Unless the whore moved, she looked like noting so much as a perfectly proportioned mannequin dressed in skin-tight rubber that left nothing hidden.  Her featureless head and face, the purple-veined perfect white breasts that had been fully extruded in front, the tiny waist and high, tight ass, the long, wonderfully shaped legs.  She was definitely a keeper. 

The terrible things had only been in her for seconds and already Jamie ached as she felt him tie her ankles and knees together.  Then he dragged her in total blackness by the ankles for what seemed like a hundred meters.  She lay motionless on the floor for a moment.  It was so hard to draw in enough air for her lungs.  And her outraged body throbbed everywhere, but all she could do was try to ignore the never-ending waves of discomfort and pain.  But it all hurt so much!  Too much to ignore.  He’d pushed horrific things inside her, both front and back.  Terribly large things.  They both hurt, but the one in her butt hurt the most.  It felt huge and the gristly muscles of her anal ring still screamed in protest at being brutally pried so far apart. 

Suddenly, there was pressure on her ankles as she felt herself quickly dragged sideways across the floor and then up.  She was hanging upside down off of the floor!  She experimentally arched her body a couple of times before he held her head still.  Then he hooked things to each side of the helmet, ropes or lines that made it almost impossible to turn her head to either side.  Finally, some kind of weight was hung off the top of her helmeted head. 

She couldn’t lift her head or turn it to either side.  Her neck muscles were almost immediately too tired to fight the inexorable pull and she faced to the front as he obviously wanted her to do.  Jamie felt him stroking and rubbing and rolling her nipples until they were so hard they ached.  The tight constriction around the base of each of her breasts hadn’t caused too much pain yet, but they ensured that her nipples remained painfully hard for far longer than they otherwise might normally have. 

The unknown man stopped for a moment and then simultaneously turned on both dildos.  Jamie squealed in shock bucked in sudden surprise as the devices inside both openings of her body began to vibrate at the same time.  “MmmphHHH!”

It was humiliating to Jamie….and she knew that this too was meant to prepare her, to soften her psychologically, but more importantly, to shame her.  She had worked with some women and had interviewed others that may have enjoyed doing these things voluntarily, but given her situation, it was a totally devastating breach of her internal privacy, embarrassing in the extreme. 

Not at all a prude, she still felt quick, hot shame at once more being so easily sexually victimized by her kidnapper.  Her embarrassment ignited another short struggle against the man’s plans, until this time he blocked off her nostrils in punishment.  Jamie quickly understood his message and stopped struggling, hanging as quietly as he wanted her to do.  He relented then and she desperately tried to catch her breath, but still couldn’t get enough air.  But it didn’t matter now; the silent man began whipping Jamie for her independence and impertinence, as well as her disobedience.  The whip he used popped hard each time, like someone had been given a good open-handed slap or a piece of wet laundry had been shaken in just the right way. 

Thankfully, the man soon abandoned her in this awful position.  She hung upside down, her arms still bound to her body, alone and in pain for what seemed hours, sobbing her misery to the world.  Jamie wanted to be strong; she despised weakness in others, especially other women, but still could do nothing about not crying over her own misery. 

Suddenly, the man was back and he silently removed the hood, gag, hollow nostril inserts and blindfold, leaving her stringy, sweaty hair hanging almost to the floor.  She realized that her ankles had been tied to a pulley mounted between the two vertical wooden floor supports. 

Face-Fucked And Sucked Dry In Boston or Her Aim Now Was Just To Survive

He himself wore the hood and tights again, nothing more.  But this time, he was not flaccid.  Her face was sweaty, and stunk of rubber from having worn the hood, and her head ached from hanging upside down.  Her neck muscles felt like overcooked noodles; too tired to do anything except allow her head to hang down towards the floor.  The man held a two-inch ring gag in his hand and told her to open her mouth. 

Aware of what he probably planned to do, the pitiful remnant of Jamie’s pride asserted itself and she foolishly refused his demand.  Without another word, the man quickly clamped his hand over her mouth and pinched both her nostrils shut.  “You really are a slow-learning bitch.  You need to figure out real quick that you’re here to give me exactly what I want, to do your best to please me in every way.  Instead, like a stupid cunt you try to fight me even though you know you can’t possibly win.  This,” he said, “is what a slave like you needs to learn obedience.”  Jamie tried to shake her head free, but her neck was too weak.  She bucked and fought him but still couldn’t breathe, there was no air. 

The man took his hand away after thirty seconds and asked if she would obey.  Again, tattered remnants of pride made Jamie clamp her lips tightly together again and shake her slightly.  This time when the man covered her mouth and pinched her nose shut, he waited over a minute without saying a word before allowing her to breathe again.  He was so casual about it that it almost seemed as if he were on a walk in the park.

As tears rolled over her forehead and into her sweaty hair line, Jamie finally nodded her agreement to whatever he might demand.  But now he continued his torture just to train her, to teach her a lesson; it seemed to take forever for him to finally to remove his hand.  And at the end, she just knew she was going to die hanging upside down in what looked like a rubber bat-girl suit. 

But eventually he relented.  She gasped for air when he finally took his hand away, and after taking a short moment to catch her breath, she reluctantly opened her mouth; he pushed the ring gag in and fitted it tightly behind her front teeth before fastening it behind her neck. 

He slowly, gently stroked her breasts for a moment, but then suddenly pulled hard on one of her nipples.  “Saaahhhp,” she inarticulately cried out because of the new ring gag.  Jamie felt her body arch in an unbidden response to the pain in her chest, and then she was moved in another direction as he roughly pulled on her other nipple. 

“Gaaaa, nah, naaahhh, aahhhppp!” She cried out, but he ignored her begging. 

He’d pulled her high enough using a rope and pulley that her breasts were almost at his face level.  With little warning, the kidnapper crouched a little, grabbed one of her breasts and used it to pull her body towards his waiting mouth.  In a coordinated assault on the TV hostess, he used his other hand to hold her face in place as he first hunched down before he then lunged forward with his hips. 

The man targeted the ring gag with his hips and with perfect aim threaded his way past her lips as he filled Jamie’s mouth to the brim, finally banging hard against the back of her throat.  It was reflexive; Jamie began to uncontrollably gag at the thick piece of foreign meat being shoved past her tonsils and down her throat.  The man finally pulled back slightly and then began to face fuck her in a moment of frenzy. 

Treating her breasts like handles, the masked man pulled Jamie to him and then pushed her away with each thrust of his hips as he continued taking her orally.  After a couple of minutes she had finally gained control of her gag reflex.  But her kidnapper used this small victory to explore deeper and deeper into her throat.  And just like that, a panic’d Jamie knew that she had graduated to the big leagues as he throat fucked her like a maniac now.

“Mmmpphh, mmpphhh, mmpphhh!”  Awful sounds rebounded in her head as he fucked her mouth. 

Her mouth was filled with his huge meat and Jamie felt dazed, almost a spectator, as if this weren’t really happening to her.  It was hard to breath with his huge erection jammed down her throat and blocking her lungs; there was nothing she could do except time her breathing with his strokes.  He still made her gag several times a minute, and his thrusts were accompanied by a steady rain of tears from her eyes and drooling strings of saliva that ran out of her mouth towards her forehead. 

Once enough saliva had accumulated in her mouth, there was a terribly humiliating, sodden ga-glack, Ga-Glack, GA-GLACK sound each time he filled her mouth and drove his erection down her throat. 

“Glaack!  Ga-glaacck!  Gaaa-glaackkk!”  The longer he fucked her, the more her mouth filled with spittle and the wetter the sounds became. 

It seemed to go on forever, but finally the man went up on his toes and pushed down as hard as could into her mouth, driving the tip of his erection past her tonsils and down her throat.  He held that position for just a second and then groaned in immense satisfaction as he began cumming.  He stood there motionless for another minute when finished, breathing heavily while his softening erection still filling her mouth. 

After he had finally pulled out, Jamie hung upside down, semen and saliva draining out of her mouth as she gagged.  Her head spun with all the blood that had pooled there as she hung upside down.  After he caught his breath, the man picked up the case that rested by his feet and opened it in such a way that she could not see inside it.  He pulled out an electrical cord and plugged the case into the wall.  Then he removed a metal box and two clear tubes.  It was a milking machine…a farm implement.  Many mothers’ were familiar with small, home milking machines that gently massaged and drained a nursing mother’s breasts.  She’d done a special report about S & M years ago when just starting, and she recognized this thing.  This was nothing at all like that; rather it was an industrial strength tool actually used on farms.  But this one came accompanied by two small cups…..nipple cups. And he was going to connect it to her!!

She was a completely anonymous sex object for this monster; a feminine body bound and encased in black latex with nothing to identify it except two exposed breasts that had been pushed through the rubber top and which now hung towards the floor.  She felt her body shaking with helpless fear; Jamie hated acting weak in front of him, and wanted nothing more than to be strong and beat him at his own game.  But the horrified anticipation that accompanied her fear wouldn’t allow that.

This thing was a machine.  And the thing about his terrible machines was that there was no appealing to it for mercy.  It did what it was designed to do, no matter how you reacted or how much you begged it to stop.  The switch was either on, and you begged for mercy, or it was off and you waited in horror for it to be turned on. 

He turned the machine on!!

Her breasts were already mounded on her chest, and she trembled as she felt him apply the first suction cup to her left nipple.  It had already been attached to the two-inch diameter clear plastic tube, and a thick, flexible black rubber hose was connected to the end of the plastic tube.  The gentle suction swallowed her nipple and two inched of flesh around it.  The masked man then applied the other suction cup to her right nipple and then he stood back to view reaction.  The machine alternately sucked on the tip of one breast and then the other. 

He leaned over and increased the suction!  The gentle tugs she’d felt in the beginning became harder and harder.  It felt like her tits were being sucked down into the machine, and as time passed, more and more of her breast flesh was pulled into the clear plastic tubes that backed the suction cups.  What had seemed annoying at first soon became irritating, and then painful as the invisible force continued to pull on her most sensitive flesh, sucking her further and further into the tube. 

Desperately, she tried to control her breathing, but the deep breaths soon turned into short, quick gasps of pain as the machine never stopped.  She shook her head in agony, again and again.  And the man just laughed at her predicament.  “Now it begins.  Its’ started and there’s nothing you can do about it except endure…..but how long can you endure this?” 

The unstoppable machine went on and on…it was terrible, it was unrelenting, it was pitiless.  He watched and snorted with amusement as she screamed in shocked pain when he tugged on the left tube and then seated it against her breast again.  Each time a nipple was machine-sucked and then released; every terrifying suction-tug sent a wave of throbbing pain through her chest, immediately followed by a blessed, if only momentary relief.  Very quickly, the entire world revolved around only her nipples and the throbbing agony she felt there. 

After what must have been at least ninety minutes of pure torture, the man finally turned the machine off and brutally pulled the suction cups from her breasts.  Jamie cried out at first but then looked at her chest.  She had to turn away when she saw how not only her nipples, but how fully half of the tip of each breast had now assumed the shape of church bell, a familiar shape tipped by a raw, achingly hard nipple that throbbed and pulsed with each beat of her heart.  She couldn’t help herself and she began weeping softly as he lowered her to the floor. 

Jamie lay on her side to avoid putting any pressure on her aching breasts, motionless on the floor crying, her face turned to the side, a mixture of thickened saliva and remnants of cum draining onto the floor from the side of her mouth still held forcefully open by the cruel two inch ring of steel.  He untied her ankles and knees and then undid the strap that ran between her legs.  She couldn’t stop the deep, unplanned groan of freedom that burst out at the unexpected feeling of release between her legs. 

He loosened the pant’s laces over her crotch and used a knife to remove the crotch of the latex panties – but Jamie didn’t care, she was too exhausted to move.  She just lay there with her legs spread as wide as he had left them, only making occasional soft blubbery sounds through the ring gag.  But both dildos still buzzed unmercifully even as the rapist slowly removed the vaginal toy; but like before, he left her with the rear plug still mounted, just to maintain her anal dilation. 

Jamie felt herself being dragged towards a new wood and metal monstrosity.  She had missed it before, her gaze going directly over it without it having registered.  She stirred without struggling and looked around her.  The room was painted a gleaming, blinding white that looked so sterile it was almost disorienting.  She looked at everything in the room with sinking feeling; everything that was neatly arranged in an austere, almost regimented way that was literally anal in its perfection. 

Closer, a two-inch diameter aluminum pole had been attached horizontally about five feet off the floor between another two vertical wooden beams that acted as floor supports.  The horizontal pipe had a pipe-mount set up in the middle which supported a second pipe that hung down vertically from it.  This last piece ended with a hook on the bottom, a hook that curved around and up like the handle on an old-fashioned umbrella.  Finally, what looked like a large rubber dildo had been placed on the end of the end of the hook as it rose back into the air. 

After freeing her elbows from behind her back, he rolled her over on her stomach and tied first one ankle to the back of her thigh, then the other.  As much as the mysterious wood and metal thing scared her, Jamie just didn’t have enough strength left to fight him even though the ache in her breasts had increased a thousand-fold when he’d forced her onto her stomach.  Instead, she just laid there and allowed the monster to do whatever he wanted.  Finally, he released her hands from where they had been bound under her breasts, picked her up in one smooth motion before she had even realized that she could struggle against him, and after ensuring that the umbrella hook rose up between her legs from the back, he then settled her, pussy first, on the dildo-covered end and let go. 

It Seemed Her Beauty Provoked Him or His New Toy Was A Real Game-Changer

Jamie’s weight easily drove her onto eight inches of two-inch wide dildo, her body sliding down slickly until the blunt upright tip drove with all of her weight behind it against her cervix.  He was watching her intently, and she realized as she was overcome by a piercing agony in her belly that the look on her face, that look of total shock mixed with horror and pain, that was what had so greatly pleased him.  Even as Jamie realized that he might have ruptured her there, she inhaled mightily through the ring gag and then shrieked her high-pitched agony again and again for as long as she had wind.

“Aaaaaggghhhhhhh…aaaggghhhhhh, aaarrrgghhh, aaaaaagggghhh!”

Her arms and shoulders didn’t work well because he’d kept her elbows bound together for so long, but that didn’t stop her from trying.  Screaming through the two-inch ring gag the whole time, she frantically tried to grab onto the man-monster’s shoulder as he straightened out her rubber-encased right arm and tied her wrist to the horizontal pole.  Then he stretched out her left arm and did the same.  Helpless now, arms outstretched and bound as if on a cross, she desperately shifted her efforts to pulling herself up off of the hook that was now buried so deeply in her belly by using only her upper body strength. 

Her kidnapper ignored her frantic efforts as he next bound both of her arms to the horizontal pole at the elbow and again at the shoulder.  Finally, the kidnapper untied her legs from her thighs, tied a thin rope to each ankle and pulled her feet up behind her until they were almost level with her rubber-clad ass and tied off the ends of both rope on the horizontal bar. 

Totally under his control now, Jamie felt her body forced into an arching, painful bow with the only three points of support being the dildo driven so deeply into her pussy and her arms and shoulders that had been strapped to the horizontal bar.  The rapist stood there for a second and watched in silence as she clamped her knees together and tried her best to climb off the end of hook using only the insides of her thighs.  She threw her head back and forth and continually cried out in agony, but he didn’t care  He walked in silence around to her back, and then slowly lowered the vertical pipe another three inches and before locking it in place once more. 

This last gave Jamie enough space to slightly better use her arms and shoulders enough to lift her hips up by main force, but still not nearly enough space to actually pull herself completely off the hook.  Hate for the terrible man flared, for what he’d done only gave her the possibility of saving herself for just a few more moments before she became too tired and then re-impaled her now exhausted body, over and over again. 

Soon, her legs were too tired to use anymore.  All she could do was bring her knees together and then spread them a few inches apart again; a metronomic-like movement that she did over and over again, just to help control the pain.  Her thighs were soon trembling from exhaustion and she was in agony with massive pains shooting out of her lower abdomen.

She was burning up.  She was sweating to death, but the rubber garments wouldn’t allow the heat to escape.  She felt like she was cooking in her own sweat, but at least he’d removed the cap he’d first put on her; this allowed some heat to escape from around her neck and her head.  Jamie was mostly quiet now, sometimes softly sobbing without even being aware she did so.  At other times, the only sounds one could here were her weak grunts of effort as she partially freed herself from the umbrella handle’s loving embrace only to groan again as she lost everything she had gained and re-impaled her pussy once more. 

Finally, the man said, “Come on baby, time to spread your hips a little more,” as he used cord attached to the wooden supports to tie both her knees even further apart.  She couldn’t carry on with her struggles to save herself after this and finally Jamie hung quietly as, with knees spread wide apart and ankles tied almost to her buttocks, she settled more deeply and more firmly, and ever more permanently, onto the hook’s unyielding embrace.  Jamie tried to be strong, but she just couldn’t be that anymore and with her chin now resting on her chest, she began to softly cry once again. 

Forty-five minutes later, she hung motionless from cross bar all will to fight gone, head drooping on nerveless neck muscles, strength gone, arms outstretched as if crucified, the weight of her body supported only by the massive dildo on the curved hook end driven so deeply inside her belly.  The pain traveled from her pelvis into every molecule of her body and it felt as if every part of her body was being crushed together from all directions.  The pain was comparable to having all of her molars removed without anesthetic, but now it penetrated every bone and organ in her body. 

Another forty-five minutes after that, the four small half-pound weights the man had strapped to each knee finally hung motionless.  She was done now, and they both knew it.  She made no sound, her eyes were closed and her chin rested on her beautiful exposed chest.  She took five or six long, deep blubbering breaths each minute.  She was crushed emotionally and physically; truly finished at least for now. 

Jamie barely felt his touch as for just a moment he massaged her breasts where they protruded from the tight rubber top; barely felt her nipples standing at hard rubbery attention like mindless little soldiers.  God, she hurt so much! 

After he removed her gag, the TV slut sobbed once and then started to work her jaws and swallow, but he didn’t like that.  He slapped her face and said, “You’re a cunt and a whore, but you’re MY cunt; so trust me, I know exactly what you really are…..a cheap piece of ass that may have won the gene lottery for looks, but who definitely has the morals of an alley cat.  You belong to me now and you’ll learn very quickly to give me whatever I want.” 

With that, he forced her head back and slipped his tongue into her mouth and down her throat like a slick oyster; he’d thrown a deep French kiss into her just because he felt like it.  Like everything else now, she froze at first and then compliantly accepted it without struggle or complaint.  Satisfied, he pulled back and then offered her a small glass of water, most of which she spilled in an attempt to drink. 

Realizing for the first time that she could speak, the captive TV whore began to plead for mercy in a dry, croaking voice and then she asked him begging questions; common, plebian questions like….why was he doing this and what had she ever done to him?  She promised she wouldn’t say anything to anybody if he would just let her go; that sort of rubbish.  He tolerated her rattling on for a few seconds and then slapped her face to get the dumb bitch’s undivided attention. 

The man looked into his sex slave’s beautiful brown eyes and began to explain the facts of her new existence to her.  Her eyes widened as he told her that she was his to use, a poor quality fuck-toy or whatever else he wanted her to be, that she was to call him Daddy or Master (her choice you know), and that worthless pieces of meat like her were always trying to get around people or use them; but that wouldn’t be happening with them. 

Of course, they both knew she didn’t have much choice in the matter.  But only he knew exactly how serious he was and that he would seriously fuck her up every time she didn’t do exactly as he’d just ordered.  He looked forward to working on this cunt, for there would be many, many opportunities to both fuck the bitch and fuck her over. 

He fed her a high-energy bar and a little more water before ordering the TV anchor-woman to open her mouth once more.  The slut still had not recognized the limits of his tolerance as a slightly stubborn look came over her face and she weakly refused his demand; and so once more he clamped a hand over her mouth and nose, but this time, he also lightly pushed down on her shoulder with his other hand. 

The disobedient whore screamed in pain as the umbrella’s hook was pushed even deeper onto her cervix.  Jamie frantically nodded her understanding, agreeing in her mind that, at least in principle, he had the right to do anything he wanted to her.  He removed his hand from her mouth but kept it over her nose and then pushed in a leather gag that was attached to a football player-type mouthpiece that fitted over her teeth; he then used a short piece of wide tape to cover her mouth.  Being a real bastard and not feeling particularly sympathetic for the currently unrepentant bitch, he waited a few more long, dragged out moments before finally removing his fingers from her nostrils to allow her to breathe. 

It was time. 

The man watched the cunt’s face closely, memorizing her facial expressions and bodily reactions as he removed her from the Umbrella Cross.  The kidnapper first untied her legs and then her arms.  Exhausted, the captive TV slut fell forward onto him.  But freeing her pelvis was still more difficult than he had imagined; the umbrella’s hook, it seemed, didn’t want to give up its’ lover’s embrace deep inside her belly.  It took time to pull the whore’s body off of the Umbrella Cross upright and she made quite satisfactory blubbery noises of pain the whole time. 

But soon he had the sweet Jamie’s body off of the hook.  Her body convulsed with sobs in his arms and he continued to hold her upright for another moment as her arms draped lifelessly over his shoulders.  Then he let go and she slid bonelessly to the floor.  He looked down impassively as she continued to sob quietly, one shaking arm draped across her flat lower belly and the other cradled between her luscious, rubber-covered thighs. 

She Belonged to Him Now or He Was Impulsive And His Needs Made Him Impatient

He let her rest for a couple of minutes and then grabbed a handful of hair and dragged the sobbing, unresisting woman across the floor and back to the two wooden uprights.  He pulled the unresisting, almost boneless body of the captive TV hostess to her feet and tied her hands to the same rings that he’d used before, but this time he left her feet unbound.  As planned, the rings were still high enough that her feet barely touched the ground.  The woman was so exhausted that only thing holding the bitch upright were her wrist restraints. 

The man stepped back and looked at his trophy catch.  She still wore the tight, form-fitting rubber, but now the jacket was open at the crotch, which was exactly what he wanted.  He especially admired the well-used, but still beautiful pair of breasts that had been extruded from the front of the tight rubber top.  After a moment, he stepped up to his captive slut, opened his mouth and began sucking on first one bruised nipple and then the other.  Finished with this for the moment, he then began to run his tongue around both nipples as his palms squeezed her breasts together so that he could almost get both in his mouth at the same time.

The slut finally found her voice.  "Ugghhh, God!  Please, stop!  No more, please!"

He immediately stopped and looked up at her face; this was exactly what he’d been waiting for.  He punched her in the stomach hard enough to bury his hand up to wrist and said, “You don’t speak unless spoken to; I’ve already told you that.  Christ, you’re slow learner.  And you address me as Master or as Daddy.  I prefer Daddy, but that’s your choice.  You’d better learn that real quick or you’ll never heal, because I’ll never be finished with you.”  And with that, he slapped the outside of her left breast with a forehand right, and then hit the outside of her right breast on the back swing.  She was still gagging from having been hit in the stomach, but was still able to scream softly. 

“Do you finally get it bitch?” he asked, looking into her slightly unfocused eyes.  “You’re a slave here, and you do what you’re told.  Now answer me, bitch.” 

The wheezing whore nodded once and said, “Yes……Daddy.  I understand.”  Her voice sounded like she had just sucked on lemons, but he didn’t care as long as she got the details right. 

He studied her face for a moment before nodding his approval.  Then he was at her again.  She moaned once more, looking down at his dark, hooded face, even as his lips nipped at her aching breasts, his tongue continuously lapping at her hard, hyper-sensitive nipples.  The monster lovingly squeezed her soft flesh even as he picked up two small, oddly shaped devices that he had previously placed on the floor near her.

Jamie eyebrows rose in revulsion; she had never seen anything like these things before but somehow, she intuitively knew that they were some kind of nipple clamps.  And knowing now what the monster was capable of, she knew they would only bring her more pain…..God, not her breasts again, please not that!!  She wanted to fight him but was she so tired that she could barely move and she was pinned, bound with wrist shackles.  Too, she was totally afraid of him and what he was capable of doing to her. 

The man placed one rubber suction cup first over her unresisting right nipple and then the left had been cupped too.  When he locked the latches on each down, her tender nipples were held in an iron, vice-like grip.  Jamie cried out in horror as an intense pain ripped through the tips of each of her breasts.  She wanted to deny him the satisfaction of hearing her cry out, but the pain was so shocking and intense that she just couldn’t keep the agony inside. 

"Oooooooaawwww!  Oh!  Oh God, Daddy, ugghhhhhhh."

Each of the clamps ended in a stainless steel ring which had a small, beautifully crafted butterfly screw set up to lock tightly against anything inside the ring.  The monster now took an eight inch long thin rod made out of a springy metal which had been bent into a sharp bow.  He positioned the hollow of the rod’s arch against her chest and grunted as he pulled the ends of the rod apart.  He then pushed one end of the rod through each ring and tightened the two butterfly screws.  The nipple clamps had now been firmly connected together by a springy rod that continually attempted to come together against the natural fall of her chest, even when they had been pushed through the rubber top.  Thus, the tips of Jamie’s breasts were now constantly, painfully, savagely pulled together in a way that always seemed to want to give her an agonizing, ultra-deep cleavage.

With the clamps biting down hard on her nipples and locked together by the springy rod, the tips of her breasts now pointed straight out like some enhanced bionic woman.  She panted in pain and then raised her eyes to the man’s hidden face; she felt little resistance or will inside her to fight him.

The man continued to cup and squeeze; smiling as he played with what could only now be described as her melons of misery.  After he had taken a few moments of pleasure, he left for a second and returned with a thin, supple cane.  He swung it in menacing swishing swipes, and Jamie well remembered what he could do with this kind of tool. 

A blossom of fear and terror returned, and she screamed out, "Daddy.  No, please sir don't," causing the sprung metal rod to rise and fall in time with her clamped, heaving bosom.

The man nodded in satisfaction, “Well, well; I guess we do want to behave now, don’t we?”

Jamie desperately nodded her agreement, the pain of his previous torments having disappeared with her current terror.  What choice did she have?  He controlled everything! 

The man’s hands slowly, softly stroked her body as he ran them down the tight rubber that almost adhered to skin of her buttocks.  He hooked his fingers inside the jacket’s crotch strap and opened her up to the blessedly cool air as Jamie continued to pant heavily.  She could only whimper as he dropped to his knees, his hands on the inside of her thighs pushing her out and spreading her knees wide apart.  Jamie felt her toes pressing hard on the floor in the cheap boots.

Acting with the certain mastery of her mind and full control of her body, the man that had kidnapped and raped her now fully spread her legs apart to expose her even more.  Jamie willing allowed him to do whatever he wished.  But then, disgustingly, he began to lick her there even as he still firmly kept her thighs spread apart. 

He pulled his head back and looked up at her although she knew that all he could see was her breasts, "Keep your legs spread, you whore.  I won’t tell you again!"

The masked man spread her wide to reveal the wet, tender pink flesh that hid inside.  Jamie couldn’t stop herself; she shuddered helplessly in disgust as she gave a moan of self-pity when she felt his tongue flick her opening again and again.  Then he alternated between sucking on her clitoris and probing her as deeply as he could with his tongue.  He made disgusting slurping sounds the whole time and she shuddered with revulsion.  He first put the index fingers of each hand inside her pussy and pulled to stretch her apart.  This soon changed to two fingers on each hand pulling at the sides of her vagina, and after a minute, three fingers tugging and struggling to expose her very insides. 

Jamie groaned, all thoughts of her aching nipples now gone, as his jaw pushed hard against her open pelvis.  His hand pushed against the insides of her thighs and as she looked down on the monster, Jamie was humiliated to realize that she looked like some kind of a demented frog, standing on tiptoes, her long legs bent at the knees and pushed wide apart, just to allow him access to the most intimate parts of her body.  His fingers kept her flesh spread wide and his filthy, and the deliberately obscene sounds only added to her humiliation.  God!  He pried and pulled her much further apart and had penetrated her with his rough, wet tongue now almost to her cervix.  She could feel it intimately, warm and familiar, as it darted around inside her like a demented snake.

The obscene monster went further down between her legs now, first removing the butt plug that had been inside her rectum for so many hours now, before running his tongue on the soft tender flesh between her pussy and her anus.  His licking finally ended with his caressing the skin around her dilated rear hole.  She groaned once more with disgust.  But not him, for he pulled back for a second and looked up at her and Jamie could see his eyes, his pupils dilated with excitement and unfulfilled lust.  Then he dove back between her thighs, his nose buried in her pussy as he almost tasted her ass before kissing her anus gently.

Jamie couldn’t help herself as she wriggled with each of his intimate probes; the ropes at her wrists creaking softly each time as they continued to hold her body upright and tautly available.  The man’s fingers continued to push and to explore between her legs.  He began to jab three and four fingers inside her at one time as he continued to keep her spread and totally available.  Jamie grunted in shock at the finger thrusts and tugs, biting her lip, closing her eyes, wishing, hoping, praying that it was all just a dream and that she would wake up soon.

"Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh!” Jamie softly and rhythmically responded with each push and pull of his fingers.  The man too also grunted, but in eager satisfaction as his fingers bent and hooked and probed inside her, continually pressing deeper and deeper against the walls of Jamie’s vagina.  The monster looked up at her now, taking obvious and great pleasure from her shocked expression and her uncontrolled, heart-felt grunts and groans.  Jamie gritted her teeth as he stabbed home one more time. 

The rapist hesitated and then stood, moving towards the shelves that lined one wall.  He returned with a strange object that looked like a long white rod that was bent towards the end and which was tipped with a bulging piece of ribbed rubber.  The masked man knelt as he positioned the tip of the rod near her pussy and spread her labia.

"Daddy?  What…what have you got, daddy?  Please Sir…Master, what's that?" Jamie almost demanded in an insistent voice filled with panic even though she exactly what it was.  But he ignored her and began to push the wand-like instrument inside her. 

"No.  Daddy, stop!  Please stop!  Sir, STOP!  Daddy, GOODDD, it's, it’s too long."  Jamie’s voice went up an octave as she squealed when the surgical-looking device began to disappear inside her belly.

"Quite, bitch!"  The masked man snapped back at her. “I guarantee you’ll like this when I’m done, and it has to be long to get all the way inside a well-used whore like you.”

With that, the masked man continued to slowly ease the thin rod into her.  Jamie whimpered and her hips gyrated once involuntarily as she felt the slick, rigid plastic probing so deeply inside her vagina, all pain from her breasts and nipples now forgotten.  Then the man turned it on and suddenly the buried head began to vibrate.  Jamie couldn’t help herself as she moaned at the terrible, potentially wonderful sensations.

Jamie shuddered again and again as the wand was twisted and turned, then rammed home multiple times.  "Daaaddddy, sstopppp pppleeeaseeee, ddddaaaddyy!  Ugggggg, ah, ah, ah!"

He began to bend it inside her, hooking against the walls of Jamie’s vagina, and slowly, unwillingly, she felt her canal explored and stretched and used for his pleasure.  Clearly, the monster that held her captive was enjoying himself.  The white wand was ten inches long, and at this point, only his hand on the handle remained visible.  Her beautiful light brown eyes were wide open with revulsion, yet as the humming tip found multiple working pressure spots, Jamie’s pupils dilated again and again with each overwhelming physical sensation.

She despised this man with every fiber of her being and would have willingly seen him dead at this very moment.  Yet she was a healthy young woman too.  And as frightened and as horrified as she was, there simply were certain physical reactions over which she literally had no control.  Her body’s response to his manipulating and massaging certain points with this hellish vibrator were subtle, yet obvious to any experienced watcher. 

Her face was red with both with embarrassment and from the intimate sensations she tried to hide from her attacker.  Jamie’s legs were weakening and her knees were turning in as she took most of her weight on her stretched arms.  Her thighs hummed as she did her best to hide the terrible sense of off-balanced oddness that somehow ticked in her breasts.  The wand was buzzing in places she’d never known she had and every now and then a shudder would run down her body.  She was horrified by her body’s natural reactions; by the way she felt her labia and vagina involuntarily grip the thin shaft, attempting to keep it inside her despite every part of her conscious being wanting nothing more than to have it gone. 

Jamie knew that begging him would accomplish nothing, but she tried anyway.  "Ohh God, Daddy, uh, uh, please stop!"  But he never did. 

The physical stimulation was intense, overwhelming much of her previous pain and exhaustion.  But she continued to be aware in some peripheral way that her breasts truly ached; the clamps were too heavy now and constrictive as they pulled towards each other.  At the same time, her vagina continued to be manipulated by the man as pressure from the vibrating head made her body shudder and her teeth chatter.

Finally, the man pulled the wand out, leaving only the last few inches inside Jamie, near her clitoral nerves.  "I’ve always thought you had a great ass," he said as she unintentionally bucked her hips once against him. 

He was silent for a moment and then traced the firm curve of her rubber-encased buttocks with the thin cane as he asked in a conversation tone, "Slit?  Do you do it there?  Have you let anyone up there in back yet?"

She wasn’t exactly sure what he meant, but Jamie began to cry as she continued to pant heavily, her voice gone but face full of fear.  She was beginning to have an idea about what he referred to, and she hated it. 

He shrugged as she looked at her tears.  "No, I guess not.  I didn't think you were that kind of a woman.  Okay, this might take a while and you might give me a fight…….."

Jamie struggled, trying to pull her wrists free as he slowly ducked under her raised right arm and moved around her body, the buzzing tip of the wand trailing over her lower belly around her hip and onto her butt.  Suddenly, she felt him spread her cheeks as much as the rubber pants would allow and the humming head of the wand laid along her still dilated anus.  She felt her butt cheeks spread further by his fingers.  She had never done anything like this with any man, not even her husband.  But the first touch of the buzzing wand sent a shiver of fear and disgust up her spine even as he began to push harder and harder, the end doing more now than just nuzzling at her hole. 

Terror filled Jamie when she thought of the ten inch long wand poised at the entrance to her rectum.  She kept trying to twist in order to look over her shoulder at him.  In a rush, she said, "Daddy, Daaaddeee, please stop.  Master, we can make some kind of a deal.  I’ll do whatever you want Daddy, just…just don't hurt me anymore."

The masked man looked at her for a second and then turned the wand off.  Jamie breathed out heavily in relief.  Deep in thought, the monster stroked the curve of her ass, clearly admiring the perfect white flesh of her firmly arched rear end.  Standing up, he pressed tightly against her back, his hands around her waist to cup her clamped breasts.  Even through the rubber that she wore, Jamie could feel the heat on her back coming in waves off of his body. 

She tried to look at him as she whimpered in fear when he whispered in her ear, "Whore….bitch…..are you ready now to take it in the rear?”  Jamie couldn’t help herself she finally understood what he’d asked.  Unable to answer in the way he wanted, she turned her head away from him in silent fear. 

He waited for a moment and then answered for her; “Almost.  But probably not quite yet anyway.  Soon though, you’ll be ready real soon."

He moved away for a moment and then returned and held something in front of her, the tip almost touching her face.  It was cone-shaped and made of black rubber, the dull point gradually widening to more than two and a half inches before it narrowing again to almost nothing.  It finally ended with a much wider circular base, almost like something that allowed it to stand upright on a table.  But what he really held in his hands, she realized, was a butt plug quite different from the first one he’d used, for if that one had looked huge and painful, this thing was a horrifying monster.

Jamie screamed at the terrible deal she realized that she had just made as the man moved around to her back, one hand trailing gently over her shoulder and down her rubber covered spine, the massive, greased butt plug in his other hand.  Suddenly he grabbed Jamie and held her tightly around the waist with one hand, pulling her to him. 

"Daddy.  DADDY!  No!  NO!  NOOO!  Don’t do it!  Oh God, sir, no, don't put that….uh, ugggg, oh, arggggg!!” 

The tight, gristly muscles that protected Jamie’s rectum had struggled hard against being violated, but suddenly parted under the continuous pressure applied by the monster’s hand.  She fervently, feverishly howled again and again, screaming her pain to the uncaring ceiling as the huge butt plug’s increasing diameter stretched and tore at her rectum.  

She bucked and struggled, but there was no way to fight him because of the way he had her bound and had pulled her against him.  Pop!!  The wide shoulder finally passed into her body and the base of the rubber cone smoothly seated itself against her anus. 

The pain was shocking and Jamie howled in agony.  “Aaahhhh, gggoodddd, NNNOOO!"

At the finish, as the huge width had spread her anus terribly wide as it has slid into her, she’d actually felt skin and muscle tear.  But when the man finished pushing the plug in past its maximum width, Jamie actually found herself groaning in sudden relief as her aching, stretched sphincter was finally allowed to clamp around the mercifully narrow ring at the base.  Suddenly, she felt incredibly full, impacted, as if needing to take a major bowel movement. 

But, while the pain of the insertion receded somewhat, tears of absolute embarrassment still ran down her burning hot cheeks and she was flushed with humiliation at what her captor had just done to her.  Physically, Jamie felt like something had been pushed inside her so far that it was almost difficult to breathe and her stomach and abdomen was cramping.  It really did feel like she was ready to take a huge bowel movement.  She suddenly became aware that her rectum was struggling in wave after wave of spasms to push the massive thing out, but her sphincter refused to spread wide enough one more time. 

Oh God, she thought in fear with tears running down her cheeks, it still has to come out again!! 

Jamie’s body arched in terrible discomfort while the man just smiled and ran a finger over the rubber-covered mounds of tight flesh that surrounded her butt-crack.  From there, his finger trailed down to the exposed rubber end of the massive butt plug whose bulk he’d just buried in her violated rectum.  He smiled a hateful, reassuring smile at her face as he said, "Cunt, you’re a natural for this.  You'll definitely get used to it."

He left her alone then.  Jamie wriggled uncomfortably, attempting to put her weight on one heeled foot and then the other, anything to decrease her discomfort.  After allowing her to hang for about fifteen minutes, marinating in the feel of the new butt plug, the horrible masked man finally returned, untied her wrists and let her drop to the floor.  Her strength was gone, there was nothing left.  If only she could rest for just a moment.

The first full day was about two-thirds gone.  The TV bitch was absolutely worn out, but he needed to run a little test; needed see what she’d learned, how deeply she’d internalized her fate, and finally, how far she was willing to go to avoid what she HAD to know was coming.  He let the insipid little slut lay on the floor for a few more minutes with ass-hole filled with rubber, just to gather her strength.  Then he left her alone as he walked into her cell and out of her line of sight as he noisily went through the pitiful few things there, calling out every now and then, ordering her to stay where she was. 

The strong-willed bitch waited a little more than five minutes before she painfully struggled to her knees and then her feet, the performance all ending in a breast jiggling, limping, bow-legged, rectum-extended, slow motion dash to the exit door that he’d apparently left unguarded.  The bitch was a mess, what with the cheap boots that threatened to turn her ankle with every step, the breast clamps still firmly hooked to the bowed rod, the gigantic butt plug still rammed up her ass and the obvious soreness between her legs.  It was actually painful to watch.  Well, it almost was.  He actually winced in sympathy as he saw little slut try to hold her breasts with one hand and attempt to run silently on her toes as the black end of the massive butt plug waggled back and forth in time with her white ass cheeks.  But none of that mattered anymore. 

The bitch that had seemed ready to be molded into what he wanted was, in reality, still unrepentant and unbowed.  He had ordered her to remain where she was and she had disobeyed.  She needed to be punished for breaking the rules….really hurt this time instead of just being played with. 

Of course the door wouldn’t open for her….he had not really left it unlocked or unguarded.  The desperate blonde TV hostess turned to face him as he slowly walked towards her, padding softly forward like a giant jungle predator.  Her beautiful brown eyes blazed above the black rubber he had dressed her in as she looked around frantically for anything with which to defend herself.  Finally, the frenzied blonde settled on a small, stiff-shanked flog that he’d left hanging on the wall. 

Her heart was pounding and Jamie found that she was holding her breath.  She hurt or ached in every part of her body; she could barely stand up straight after everything he’d done to her.  But the adrenaline flowed like fire in her blood and she felt none of that pain now.  Panic enveloped her like a heavy coat of ice.  She might never get out of here, but she’d make him pay somehow!  She pretended to swing high but swung low instead.  There!  She’d hurt him!  He took two steps back and she started to breathe again, but quickly and without any depth.  The panic’d urge to pee was overpowering, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of the man. 

The bitch grabbed it and faked a home run swing for his head.  When he moved his arm up to protect his face, she immediately changed targets and hit him, hit him hard across his bare chest.  A thick and angry red welt immediately rose across his nipples, left behind by the small lead balls woven into the thin leather strips. 

He instinctively ducked the bitch’s back swing and when she pulled back to hit him again, this time in the crotch, he furiously leaped at the slut he’d kidnapped, pushing her up against the wall and easily disarming her.  Suddenly and easily disarmed, she broke down in tears and just stood there, alone, all fight now suddenly gone, paralyzed by fear as she waited quietly for his reaction. 

He grabbed the disobedient slit by her hair, stood her up onto her toes and then buried his fist in stomach.  He held her up and hit her again, making sure to avoid her breasts….he didn’t want to tear off a nipple or anything.  He wanted to keep on hitting her, but she was done, and all he’d do now was possibly hurt her seriously……and what was the fun in that?  He had too many plans that involved fucking a healthy, relatively unscathed cunt to really hurt this bitch, at least for now, that was.  When he let go of her hair, she fell bonelessly to the floor.  He looked down at her without pity and shook his head as he rapped a finger against his temple.  “Blondes,” he said, “they do try, but….”

Jamie ached all over, and she was suddenly so tired of trying to fight the man who had taken her.  Exhaustion followed exhilaration.  She could feel the familiar languor in her veins, dragging her down to immobility, to acquiescence.  It was all over and there was no use fighting him now……

He leaned down, grabbed the bitch by her long blonde hair and dragged her barely moving body to the queen-sized rape bed.  After he’d thrown her down on her back and spread-eagled her again, he forced her jaws open and stuffed a big gag into her mouth and then taped it in place.  The gag was not to keep her silent; instead he used it as additional physical punishment, pushing it in so hard and deep that he purposely hurt her mouth and jaw.  He then removed the rod that connected the two nipple clamps and which had done such a wonderful job in giving her melons a little more cleavage. 

Still encased in black rubber except between her legs, she lay quietly on the bed now, nipples still clamped, legs spread wide apart, rectum filled with massive amounts of black rubber, totally helpless and sexually exposed.  He disappeared for a second, then reappeared pushing one of his favorite mechanical devices.  Filled with anger-fueled adrenaline, he fast-rolled the fuck-machine into place at the foot of the bed, bringing it from where he’d left it after last using it on the middle-aged bitch he was banging. 

The newly recruited TV whore lying on the bed seemed to recognize the machine’s purpose.  Or perhaps it was the huge black dildo on the end of the piston arm that pointed directly at her crotch that that so frightened her.  In any case, her eyes grew huge as her pupils dilated, and the bitch struggled and squirmed enough to threaten her air supply.  But in the end it accomplished nothing and she finally settled down, laid her head back on the mattress and just stared at the ceiling as tears ran from the corners of each of her eyes.  This acceptance position made it easy to align the machine so the dildo rested motionless right at the red and swollen entrance to her already worn pussy.  The helpless blonde slut raised her head one more time and shook it desperately, trying to get him to stop.  But she’d hit him!!  So he just stood at the foot of the bed and looked down on her without pity. 

The kidnapper absently stroked the welt across his chest a couple of times.  Now fully motivated, he turned the machine on slowly, letting the blunt head of the dildo shove her bruised labia aside as it slowly, but inexorably pushed deep inside her pussy for the full eight inches he’d dialed in.  He watched as the cunt unsuccessfully tried to move her pelvis to avoid accepting the hard rubber, but it all disappeared slowly inside her pelvis as if a huge, lubricated slug seeking a warm, moist home for the very first time.  He watched as the machine continued slowly.  A muffled scream filled with despair echoed around the room as the piston arm slowly hesitated as it lightly pushed against her bruised cervix for a second at the end of its stroke and then smoothly rotated the dildo almost out of her belly again…..it was the perfect mechanical devotee for a woman like this. 

Her head popped up and she watched in helpless horror as he poured some additional lubricant on the dildo that remained motionless between her legs just nine inches short of its maximum range on each out-stroke of the arm.  Then he turned it on again and watched her head snap back onto the mattress as she was fully penetrated once more by her coldly emotionless, mechanized lover.  In and out, in and out, the mech-fucking had continued for less than a minute when it looked like the bitch finally gave up trying to avoid the punishment she so richly deserved; it was immediately obvious to the most casual observer that she’d surrendered to the inevitable, willingly accepting the hard rubber of machine love. 

After another couple of minutes of letting the appliance have its way with her pussy, he turned up the speed, just a little.  Now he watched her gorgeous rubber encased body as it was rhythmically slammed toward the head of the bed at the end of each stroke.  Nicely muffled screams of pain accompanied each machine blow as it bottomed out in her vagina, every time making those perfectly firm tits of hers jiggle like twin bowls of blue-veined alabaster Jell-O, both capped with the small, inverted rubber bowls. 

This was a true engine of feminine destruction.  While part of what he enjoyed here was just the sheer physical punishment that he dished out to the stubborn bitch, the maximum shame and humiliation associated with the particular way he was sexually abusing his captive was also an important parallel theme.  While the psychological aspect was important, mostly though, he just wanted to use the machine as another tool to break her down physically and turn her from an independent bitch into the submissive piece of ass he could work with.  But while watching a woman get fucked into submission by a machine was kind of sexy at first, in the end, frankly it was time consuming and about as erotic as watching paint dry…..for him anyway…. 

He was hungry and the cunt definitely wasn’t going anywhere.  After pouring more lubricant on the dildo, he left the playroom and went into his kitchen, made himself a sandwich and grabbed a beer from the refrigerator.  He didn’t need to check on the bitch for awhile and there was a college game he wanted to watch on television. 

A Professional Woman’s Degradation or Back Tunnel Deliveries Were Best Made In Private

She just wanted to die, to have it over with.  Jamie could not only feel it, she could literally hear the tool slamming into her body with each rotation of the wheel.  It sounded like the hammer from hell hitting a bag filled with mashed potatoes over and over again…but it was HER belly that was being filled with each revolution of the machine.  She was already raw there and it had really hurt at first, hurt her a lot there.  But she was truly terrified now because she didn’t even really feel it that much anymore as it methodically punched into her vagina as much as she heard it. 

The blonde captive could only sort of feel a vague, dream-like distension in her vagina as the dildo was pushed into her now always followed by the blow between her legs at the end, but all she felt after that was a surprising, achingly emotionless emptiness with each quick release as the dildo was pulled out.  At first, it had felt like the dildo on the machine had rubbed through the thin wall that separated her vagina and rectum, so that it had been wearing against the massive piece of rubber still pushed up her ass.  But she didn’t even feel that anymore.  She was numb from the waist down now and the mechanical violation of her body had reached the point where it almost didn’t even feel like it was her that was being violated.  So it became more and more easy to almost ignore the never-ending fucking she was receiving. 

She was losing it!   One part of Jamie’s conscious mind knew that she wasn’t screaming as much now; she’d become much less frantic over the last few minutes, virtually accepting the machine’s actions now, almost as if the muffled sounds actually emanated from someone else’s throat…as if it were someone else’s body being raped by the coldly impersonal device. 

Sweat ran down her forehead and left her hair in greasy strings.  Her head tossed back and forth on the mattress because she knew…God, she knew without a doubt that she was going to die here.  In this horrible torture room.  Tied to a bed and impaled, literally skewered and filled between her legs; slammed and fucked and tortured by his machine.  Or perhaps after he had done other terrible things to her.  But in the end, she somehow knew that it was the end…..at least of her dreams and perhaps even her sanity. 

He came back at half-time.  There was no way to tell what the bitch saw now for her brown eyes were only slits that faced the ceiling and she softly whimpered with every stroke of the machine, but made no other sounds.  Her blank, half-sane eyes stared upwards, unblinking, oblivious to his presence.  He’d planned on leaving her with the motorized rapist for a while longer and had even just now given her more lubricant, but then he hesitated at the last second.  He finally turned the apparatus off, but she didn’t respond to his unexpected mercy.  So he left her on the bed with the now motionless dildo still distending her belly as it filled her vagina and went back to the game on TV.

By the time it stopped, her pelvis was bruised and sore, and the inside of her vagina literally raw.  But the panic attack was over now, replaced by an almost exquisitely spiritual and emotional numbness.  She stared at the white ceiling without thought, without emotion.  She was lost.  She knew it, he knew it; she knew that he knew it. 

His sweet little TV lady had finally come around during the course of another hour.  After the game, he removed mechanical rapist, untied and ungagged her, then dragged the unresisting woman into her cell by her stringy, sweaty hair, threw her on her stomach, unlaced her rubber pants the rest of the way and removed them and the massive anal plug.  Most of the time, the little slut had just laid there and let him do whatever he wanted to her.  But not this last part.  She’d screamed a little at this…no, he smirked to himself, he’d actually had to hold her down and she’d screamed one hell of a lot as he’d ruthlessly yanked it from her rectum. 

And her high-pitched squeals of pain and passionate screams had pleased him. 

But best of all, as planned, the plug had left her sphincter stretched and gaping wide open, just begging to be filled by a man.  God, even though he’d fucked her tits and pussy up, for a dirty, nasty slut, she still had a gorgeous ass!  He knew she already had to hurt like a bitch because he’d really worn out her pussy today.  But thankfully, God gave the sluts of the world two major holes, and one minor, for a man to work on.  And what with the butt plug and all, he was pretty sure that she knew what was coming next.  And although he knew that she didn’t have the strength to even consider fighting him off, by his logic, if she didn’t fight it, then she must want it.  His black cotton hood beside him, he lay down on her back and began to indulge his rising urgency. 

She had clearly been a virgin this way, had never before experienced a man this way; of reality he had no doubt.  He used the tip of his thick cock to play around the stretched out entrance of her ass.  You could see her hands contort and go rigid, clawing at the futon as he played with her.  She did not make any sound other than hyperventilate; quick, shallow, loud breathing for about twenty seconds.

Suddenly, it was time.  He’d lubricated his rod, but it almost hadn’t been necessary as he slid into her ass up to his nutsack like a Maserati into an empty three-car garage.  One thrust and he was buried in ass-virgin’s heaven!  Of course, the blonde TV slut didn’t quite look at it like that and she reared and shook and wailed in real pain as his cock buried itself in her gaping, welcoming asshole in one large thrust.  “Aaaahhhh, aaarrghhhh!  

She continued to scream in horrified shock at the way he’d just totally filled one of her major holes without any real preparation.  He was deep in her ass but the nasty, little whore still made a puny effort to fight him, momentarily grunting and straining as she tried to expel him.  He snorted with amusement; her weakening efforts pleased him even as he filled her gaping hole. 

“No!  NO!!.  Goddddd, no!!!”  Her screams of pain always started low and rose several octaves with each penetration.  “UghhaahhHH….ugghhhaahHH…ugghhaaahhHH!”

Predictably, she ran out of energy and then, motionless beneath his pounding hips, the blonde slut softly began begging him to stop.  Amused by the strangled voice that floated out of the mattress into which he’d driven the bitch’s face, he diverted himself with trying to change the cadence and tone of her begging by continually changing the rhythm of drilling her in the ass. 

“Goddd….I….I….please…..owwww….uhuhuhuh…..pleasestoppleasestop….ugghhahhHH……stopstopstopstop!

But her body felt hot to him underneath the rubber top, seemingly radiating a searing heat to every part of his body that lay upon her, especially where she’d hit him with the whip.  The skin-tight black rubber molded her ass into twin peaks of beauty that remained hidden, yet gloriously offered to him at the same time as they firmly pushed up into his groin; and she just felt so damned good beneath him and around him and on him, involuntarily clenching his manhood with her every pain-filled, agonized gasp. 

The nasty piece of ass groaned in acceptance with almost his every thrust, sometimes because of the massive amount of meat she was barely able to tolerate and at other times because of the way his weight on her back ground the nipple clamps into her breasts.  But as much as he might be hurting her, she lay beneath him without ever struggling once, and as he drew closer and closer to release, all the anger and other conflicting emotions he felt towards her melted away to be replaced with a simple sense of exultation, the intense exhilaration and dark joy that filled him when he saw how she trembled beneath him in her tight-fitting suit of rubber.  That same momentary glimpse of ecstasy was being offered to her now too, forever, but the man on top of her was sure the little slut would not be able to appreciate his gift. 

The fire within her body soon radiated even more warmth, licking up into his scrotum and very limbs.  And all she had to do was join him there in the flames.  But she remained mostly unresponsive except for the uncontrolled spasmodic jerks that he caused every so often, so he was sure that she didn’t yet understand her current and future role in the games he had planned.  Annoyed at her lack of response, he pulled on her hair to bring her face into view. 

Her eyes remained closed, but the expression on her face was the most horrifying, the most pitiful…..and the most satisfying thing he had ever seen -- he reveled in the face of a woman who realized, without a shadow of a doubt, that a man now possessed her totally and completely.  That all hope of rescue was gone…..and that this bitter experience would now be hers forever; free to be experienced in her mind again and again, even against her will. 

Finally he came in her ass.  He wasn’t sure that she knew he’d just got his nuts off in her ass, but she sobbed softly when he withdrew from her body.  All he cared about how good he felt.  She had not necessarily been an enthusiastic participant, but the man appreciated her accepting full-on, in your face anal sex on their first real date.  He couldn’t speak for her….he wouldn’t presume that…..but he’d certainly had one hell of a good time. 

Once he was finished, he put his hood back on and left to get some food for the slut he’d just used.  Regardless of what he’d just done to her, or whether she was hungry or not, he knew she needed food to survive the next week. 

He untied her wrists and ankles and helped her struggle back to her cell, where she quietly lay down on the futon without saying a word or looking at him.  He undid the laces in back of her top and pants, then left.  He returned ten minutes later with a bowl of tomato soup that he’d warmed. 

He’d locked the cell door, but it had not been necessary for she’d not moved an inch.  The hooded man set the bowl on the floor next to her and said, “Take all that shit off now, but be careful while you’re doing it.  You really are a filthy whore and you definitely smell nasty; take a quick shower and get yourself clean.”  He looked at her hard, disregarding the fact that he was the reason she smelled so bad, “By the way, there’s a disposable razor in the shower.  Shave your pussy all the way while I fix you something a little more substantial.”

The whore finally looked at him and tried to speak, forgetting the gag for a second.  After a moment, she struggled to unfasten it in back.  She was exhausted and the suit was so tight on her skin that it seemed to fight her every move.  It was difficult to even get her arms high enough to reach the back of her neck, but after a few moments, she finally got it off. 

The man said, “Bitch, don’t try to say a fucking thing.  Just do it and we’ll get along fine.  You pretend to be an attentive slut on your television show just to improve your ratings.  Well, now you get to be a whore in real life…..my white sex-slave, my own sweet little personal whore.  And the more believable your act, the better I’ll treat you.” 

The man stopped for a second, then continued.  “Look up there,” he pointed to the camera in the corner.  “I can see everything you do in here.  You try something stupid, I’ll see it and punish you again, more severely than you could ever dream, and much worse than what you’ve gone through already.  Don’t mistake me for a nice guy; just do what I say and nothing more will happen tonight.”  Then, after what he considered a companionable silence the man left her alone, still staring at the bowl of soup. 

He’d just returned.  The awful man lowered his hooded head to look her in the eyes.  He’d hurt her far more than any other person ever had done and she was so frightened of him now.  At any other time, Jamie would have mocked and laughed at any idiot dressed like him, but not now.  His look was fearsome, the look of a man used to getting his way, used to controlling women, women like her, and he had already proved that multiple times. 

“You really stink,” he said.  “Get cleaned up.”  Jamie felt her cheeks flush with heat and her eyes begin to tear, but she nodded in speechless obedience.

He was silent for another moment.  “By the way, it’s like this.  Cheap piece of ass.  Sex slave.  Forced whore.  White slavery…all of those have good sounds.  So this will continue; we will be together tomorrow and the day after and the day after that, doing things you may not want to do.  But keep this in mind; you are nothing but a piece of poorly trained meat to me and what you want doesn’t matter in the end; we’re having a little two-person play here; you have a major role in it and you WILL fulfill your fucking part even if it’s only your mindless body I use.  We’ll do it together, either soft and easy or cold and hard….it’s all up to you” 

The man moved with a striking display of physical ability.  She viewed him with total alarm, but still was able to watch him with a certain terrible appreciation for his sheer animal ability.  Jamie felt her shoulders sag; it was hopeless….it was every woman’s worst nightmare.  Then the man continued in a soft, yet still threatening monotone.  “Your choices are kinda limited.  You can assume the role I’ve given you and cooperate.  That might even be a little enjoyable if you can just learn like the rough stuff.  Or you can go catatonic, and let this whole thing consume you.  Or you can fight me and die in the end after I’m done with you.  Two outta three don’t leave much of poor little Jamie behind when I’m done.  In two of the three, I take my hood off, you see my face and you know it’s gonna end badly.  But that’s okay with me, since I’ll still be getting what I want.”

He stopped for a second and then continued on his way out her cell, “It’s your choice.  But remember.  In every case, I get what I want.  But only one gives you the option of ever getting out of her, of going back to your husband”.

Jamie was in shock.  She felt helpless, her life totally out of her control.  Once he had left, she cried for a long time.  Why was this happening to her?  She didn’t deserve any of this.  It wasn’t fair.  It wasn’t right.  Finally, she closed her eyes for a second, and then began to struggle out of the hated rubber outfit.  She hurt everywhere and all she wanted to do was cradle certain parts of her abused body.  But she couldn’t; somehow, she knew she had to obey him or suffer even more than she already had.

Her arms didn’t want to work and it was difficult to figure out how the clamps on her nipples worked, but finally she did and removed both of them.  Her nipples were even more bruised now and began to ache as soon as the blood began to flow back into them.  The hated rubber top fought her efforts to be free of it every inch of the way, but she finally succeeded in getting it off her body.  Her pussy felt raw inside and it ached and throbbed with every beat of her heart, her skin was sweaty and the welts on her butt itched and stung where she’d been beaten.  The small pin-pricks in her skin would not be noticeable in another day, but seeing them still caused a flood of self-pity to overwhelm the little rational part of her mind that still remained.  But none of this even began to compare to how her rectum burned and itched and ached and throbbed. 

And her brand hurt. 

Jamie immediately covered herself with the bedding, her hands over her eyes, and cried for another minute as her shoulders heaved with heart-felt sobs.  Done crying for now, she wiped her weeping eyes and runny nose on it.  Only a few short hours ago she had been so proud of her life, so proud of what she had accomplished.  Perhaps even overly proud, especially of the way that she had always been able to use others.  But now the full weight of what she faced from the monster that had taken her rested on her small frame and it just wasn’t fair!  She was suddenly taken with a painful welling of emotion at the solitude in her cell; she felt so alone now, so terribly alone. 

Finally, her stomach growled.  Her body wanted food but her mind did not.  She tried to ignore it but finally the odor had worked its magic.  The cooling soup smelled good and she was suddenly ravenous; she ate as he had ordered and wished for more. 

Jamie felt faint afterwards and sat on the edge of the futon with her head down on her knees.  What could she do?  Emptiness behind her, emptiness ahead of her.  And right in the middle of all that emptiness, there were moments of sheer terror that still rang in her mind with a crystal clarity she knew must fade or it would surely drive her insane. 

She wanted to cry out at how unfair this was.  But Jamie suddenly understood somehow that she would not survive this ordeal with a why me attitude.  She suddenly realized that in all of the history of the world, life truly was unfair more often than not….life wasn’t about fair.  After lying back for a moment and considering this revelation, she forced herself to stand even though her shaking knees threatened to collapse.  After a moment, she gave a soft groan and staggered to the shower. 

Jamie liked her showers hot.  Very hot.  While she waited for the water to warm, she looked at herself in the shiny steel mirror that hung above the sink.  She looked like hell.  Her eyes were red and she had the beginnings of dark circles under them.  She turned her side to the mirror and looked at her ass.  The bruises there were still red today but had already begun to fade a little….they’d mostly be gone in another day or two.  The internal sexual abuse didn’t show, but probably affected her, physically and mentally, far more than the things he had done to the outside of her body. 

She splashed her hand under the water.  Ouch!  OK, not that hot.  Jamie dialed the scalding water back a few degrees and then stepped into the shower.  The full-body trembling began as she stood under the hard spray.  After a couple of minutes, she washed her mouth out.  After a few more moments, she was shaking so hard that the shampoo bottle rattled as she picked it up off of the shelf.  She thought of victims of long-term trauma she’d interviewed as guests on her show.  The blank stares, the long silences, the sudden and unprovoked shudders and withdrawals, the seemingly endless supply of tears that appeared as if by magic.  Suddenly, Jamie was determined that this would not be her. 

Trying to keep her hands active, she washed her hair, careful to avoid aggravating the brand on the back of her neck.  Finally, Jamie soaped and cleaned her body, and then cupped hot water and held it against her aching rectum and labia and vagina and beasts for long minutes.  After a moment’s hesitation, she reluctantly picked up the disposable razor and shaved her legs and armpits, and after another moment’s hesitation, between her legs. 

She turned the water off and stood in the hot steam, letting the water drip off of her body, her memories, the scars that she now carried that no one would ever be able to see.  She caught sight of her outline in the mirror as she towel-dried her hair.  For a moment, it hardly looked real.  Just the vague shape of a young woman with dripping hair; faceless, emotionless, obscure around the edges.  In a fog.  Her reflection reminded her of looking at a phantom that no longer existed.  Extremely drowsy by this time, Jamie could barely keep her eyes open as she brushed her teeth and then wobbled back to bed.  She hugged herself tightly as she rocked back and forth for a second on the edge of her mattress and then lay down, becoming unconscious in less than five minutes. 

Doing Various Twisted Things To Her Unconscious Body or Seriously, She’ll be Fine In The Morning

An hour later, she was out like a light, breathing heavily but steadily.  The man looked down at the dumb bitch with a smile that would have made her shiver if she’d been awake.  He was pleased with himself.  He’d guessed right on the maximum dose of sedatives; she’d passed out in less than half an hour and would be under all night long.  If he’d put any more in her soup, he could’ve knocked out, maybe killed an elephant.  He wanted her, but he didn’t really fucking care what happened to the bitch.  Of course, he’d be annoyed if he had to find some place to dump her body and then recruit another piece of ass for the rest of the week, but if it was necessary, so be it. 

He’d begun planning for this particular moment months ago by taking a short course in cosmetic body piercing.  The only guy in a small class that was loaded with loser women; it had taken three nights a week over three weeks, but he’d forced himself to finish.  And while a significant chunk of class time had been spent on safety and hygiene, these weren’t really high on his list of concerns for this cunt since he planned on setting the bitch free by the time infection was a concern.  The man had originally thought that the old bitch he was fucking might have been the first recipient of this particular talent, but he was wrong. 

After sterilizing the equipment, he stuck her in the thumb a couple of times to see if she was really out.  She didn’t move an inch.  Satisfied, he then pierced the outside of both of Jamie’s nostrils and planted silver studs in each hole.  Next he punctured the center cartilage, her nasal septum; she moved restlessly as he filled that with a small silver ring.  He waited for a moment before moving his attention from her nose down to her breasts. 

She moaned once or twice during the next ten minutes, but didn’t surface from her drug-induced sleep.  Finished perforating her bruised skin there, he slid the open ends of what looked like hoop earrings through each of the holes he’d made, and voila!  Locked rings hung from each of the unconscious woman’s swollen, yet still proudly erect nipples. 

Now he clipped the end of a strand of chain to one of the nipple rings, brought the chain up and around her neck and then back down, attaching the free end to the other nipple ring.  The chain had been measured and cut so that it pulled her nipples up slightly when she kept her head and shoulders bowed.  But when she stood up straight with her shoulders back, when she raised her fully head upright, the chain would pull hard on her nipple rings, just hard enough to lift up the tip of the entire breast with just that single movement of her head and shoulders. 

He used another, longer Y-shaped chain to prevent her from removing the one around her neck.  This chain had a clip on the single end and two shorter chains connected to the other end.  He clipped the single long end of the Y chain to the first one at the back of her neck.  He then ran the rest of the chain with its two ends down her back, between the unconscious woman’s legs and up her stomach.  The man clipped each of the two loose ends to a nipple ring and then shortened the longer piece until the now continuous chain was tight on her body. 

Finally, he ran a third strong, yet decorative chain rather tightly around her waist and connected it in back, thus pinning the vertical chains in back and the front against her body.  Then he locked the chain that went from the tips of her breasts down between her legs and which came up her back to the new waist chain.  It wouldn’t be comfortable, but it would be good reminder of her position on their “team” and of her need for a little more humility. 

He looked at the woman’s ratty, dried hair and decided to brush it out for a few minutes.  Finally finished, he patted her on the top of her head like a good, obedient dog and with a smile on his face locked Jamie in her cell. 

Day Three

He Loved The Smell Of Bondage In The Morning or The Rules Were Different Today

Jamie woke slowly, floating up from the depths like someone else’s shadow.  She woke to darkness, to pain, to swirling tide-race of dizziness, confusion and fractured memories.  She awoke to lethargy and gazed about the dingy cell, wondering at herself and her whereabouts in that little uncertainty that always followed awakening.  She blinked slowly, blindly, trying to understand.  She felt like she was floating in the air with thousands of diaphanous bits of light in orbit around her.  She’d previously thought seeing stars was just the stuff of cartoons, but it was the most magnificent and glorious experience imaginable, she decided when—WHAM—she found herself back on her mattress in the tiny cell.  She’d been hurt before, but never like this.  The pain of yesterday had run everywhere under her skin, as if it had been racing about on the power of her own heartbeat.  And yet, even though she knew that she had never suffered such pain and anguish in her life, it was curiously distant now.  As if a part of her, yes, but walled off by the dizziness.  Held only one imagined half step away from reality. 

As she became slightly more aware, she realized that her mind was sluggish, almost as if she were dreaming or suffering from a hangover.  Everything had a fuzzy, disjointed dream feel to it, and her eyes were matted shut, but felt far too heavy to open.  Her mouth was horribly dry and her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. 

Finally, she forced her eyes open for a second, but the light hurt her eyes; she felt unbearably hot and lay still on the mattress pad for a long time.  She experienced what seemed like hours of bouts of fuzzy awareness after that, but had no idea if these occurred minutes or hours apart.  Suddenly aware that she was naked, Jamie knew she finally was awake and tried to move, to open her eyes. 

Lightning bolts.  Even though she realized that she ached all over, the pain that felt like lightning bolts surging through her brain overwhelmed the pain from the….other thing.  Jamie’s eyes bulged and she softly whimpered in fright like a little girl.  She did her best to ignore it - tried to open her eyes, tried to fight through the jackhammer that suddenly thumped inside her skull, but the agony was overwhelming.  God, she wondered, what was wrong with her?  She’d never felt this bad before.  Ever.  She’d suffered through hangovers, migraines, and a skiing accident that left her with a severe concussion, but in all her years, she had never come close to feeling like this.  Hell, it was like she was giving birth through her nose.  The pain was that intense.

She’d not had coffee in days, but the sudden, bitter taste of coffee filled her mouth.  Not an echo of that enjoyed in the past, but something far more vile.  She finally regained control after awhile, but still wasn’t sure why she had awakened.  All she knew was that her head hurt and something was different.  Suddenly, her memories flashed and she was filled with a nameless fear as she remembered where she was and some of what he’d done to her. 

The throbbing had softened finally, reduced to a rhythmic ache, especially between her legs.  Her bruised vagina and stretched rectum still ached and throbbed with every beat of her heart, but not as badly as they had last night.  The constant fear that had accompanied her during the first part of the kidnapping suddenly brimmed to the surface again.  Her mind had obviously been working during the night for Jamie realized she had come to a decision. 

No matter what happened, no matter how much it might hurt or how shameful it might be, she was going to be good to Daddy; she was going to do her best to give him whatever he wanted without fighting him.  If she cooperated, hopefully he wouldn’t feel the need to hurt her so much anymore. 

Yesterday had brought some things into crystal-clear focus.  Jamie now realized that her whole life had been a lie.  She wasn’t nearly as brave or resilient or as determined as she’d always thought she was.  She now knew that she wasn’t a fighter and wasn’t even particularly tough.  All she wanted was to go back home to her…..husband.  The thought of wanting to go back to him surprised her and she swore she’d never take him or her life of privilege for granted ever again. 

Jamie had awakened lying curled on her side.  She felt a little nauseous, but her bladder was the worst.  She had to go to the bathroom right away, but as soon as she attempted to stand she cried out in pain and grabbed her breasts……..something awful was tearing at her chest.  In horror, like a blind woman she tentatively patted at her chest, felt the chains that went from each nipple and up around her neck.  At the same time, she also realized that something also ran tightly between her legs, splitting her labia in two. 

She immediately wanted to take it all off, but quickly realized that it had all been designed so that almost anything she did only made her breasts hurt even more.  The only way she could make the pain go away was to keep her head bowed, as if in submission or penitence.  She peered in the soft darkness, then her eyes widened in horror as she saw the chains attached to her aching nipples and which ran both around her neck and between her legs, everything then being held in place by a chain around her waist.  Oh God!  She was so terrified; she had never felt so violated, so humiliated in her whole life. 

She desperately felt around for a catch in back of her neck to remove the chain that pulled so cruelly on her flesh, but there was none.  Her eyes misted for a just second; she was so weak, so helpless, her life so out of control…she felt as if where were totally controlled by a huge emotional roller-coaster…..up and down….up and down.  She tried to shake her feelings off, to little success.  In a short moment of lucidity, she fought back too a small flash of anger that accompanied the deep well of despair that threatened to consume her.  But her depression was so powerful……Jamie felt so helpless in the presence of this man, as if she were standing thigh-deep in rushing floodwaters; at any moment she could lose it, lose her grip, get swept away by her emotions.  Just like those people caught in the Asian tsunami. 

It was hard to force herself to move and the movement felt slow, as if she were moving underwater.  Regardless, somehow, she struggled to the bathroom and then leaned against the wall protecting herself from making any sudden moves that brought pain from the chain.  After a moment, she turned on the cold water and put her hands into it.  She wasn’t sure why…she wasn’t sure of anything, including the passage of time.  Abruptly, she threw up; the watery, curdled remains of what she had last eaten slopped into the clean swirl of water and disappeared down the drain with it.  Her stomach heaved again, then settled uneasily.  She cupped her hands under the faucet and drank a handful of cold, sweet water. 

Jamie looked in the mirror….she looked like a stranger.  A gaunt middle-aged woman with flyaway hair, her face streaked with tears and vomit, terrible chains hanging from her breasts.  Her stomach lurched again, but steadied.  Then she cleaned the chains of any filth she may have left on them.  She had never been prone to nausea.  Not even when the pain he had been giving her made her feel like she was being torn apart. 

This would never do.  There was one thin, heavily worn cotton hand towel, and she carefully rubbed her face hard with it until the blood returned the greenish tinge of nausea had disappeared under a healthier pink.  She attacked her hair with her damp hands, flattening the loose strands, then she dried her hands.  She folded the damp towel and left it on the sink. 

Finally, Jamie moved to the toilet and sat with her head bowed down almost between her knees.  She pulled the taut chain away from her crotch to pee as best she could, but the waist chain and nipple locks prevented her from removing it without tearing off her nipples. 

That’s where the monster found her.

The kidnapper wore a Halloween type mask over only the upper part of his face this time, along with tight, black bike shorts.  He entered her cell with anticipation and found the dumb bitch sitting on the toilet.  The stupid bitch had finally figured out that she was wearing some new silver, but he wasn’t sure if she yet realized that she now sported piercings and metal in other places too.  When he had walked in, she’d been in the process of rapidly wiping herself off and for some odd reason, that’s when she made the delayed connection with the nose silver he’d put in last night. 

With that discovery, she just sat on the toilet, a nauseated look on her face as she stared at the floor, one hand idly fondling her pierced nipples while the other touched her nose ring and studs in apparent disbelief.  Snorting back laughter and without saying a word he motioned with one finger, come here.  The young woman he now owned gave him a frightened, deer-in-the-headlights look but immediately obeyed.  She shuffled towards him quickly, with her head bowed to keep the pressure off of her nipples.  This pleased him and gave him a little hope for the future; a relatively smart lady, she seemed much more willing to behave now because of his “counseling” over the last day or so.

She stood in front of him with legs spread shoulders-width apart, her hands by her sides and her head bowed in respect.  Her new Daddy looked at her for a moment before he nodded in satisfaction.  He knew she must be a little hungry by now, but he made her fix her hair just so that she could stew in her new chains for a couple of extra hours before he removed them.  Of course, the only reason he would be taking them off later was so that she could perform for him. 

She remained hunched over to avoid hurting her nipples and he ignored her pathetic questioning looks, rightly identifying them as attempts to begin conversation.  Her pupils were dilated.  She opened her mouth as if to speak and it looked as if a tap had been turned on inside her chest and all the feelings and emotions were flooding slowly upwards, gurgling and lapping inside her body to fill her up to the brim.  But she’d learned enough over the last few hours to keep her silence. 

Now he began to question her about her previous promises of obedience.  But he paid little attention to her verbal assurances to fully cooperate with him from this point forward, only snorting every now and then at some ridiculous promise she made, a promise he knew she had no intention of ever keeping if she could only get free again. 

The man knew that most people are telling the truth when they look up and to the left.  But when they look up and to the right or their eyelids flutter, then they are relying more on their imagination, and they are therefore intentionally lying or at least their answer cannot be relied upon.  When he saw these proven tell-tales coming from his new whore as she answered one of his probing questions, he beat her no matter how strongly she protested her innocence.  He knew this was hard on the whore, for being beaten for telling the truth is often far worse for one in her position than being beaten for lying. 

When she nervously touched any part of her body while agreeing to do exactly as he demanded, he also knew it likely meant she was lying and so he beat her for that too.  If her pupils dilated when she told him how she good would act, he knew she was probably lying then too.  The same with her licking her lips because her mouth was dry.  He beat her after all of these unintentional tell-tales, always making sure not to leave marks on her face or tits. 

Soon, it seemed to him that she finally stopped trying to dissemble and was telling him the truth.  She insisted she would be everything he wanted her to be, and more.  But, he promised himself, even the slut herself would eventually look back in surprise at how far she would wind up going to please him, at what she would eventually wind up “voluntarily” giving him. 

The kidnapper then gave her just enough time to eat a tiny cold meal and to brush her teeth before he made her put on her makeup.  Lip gloss, eye shadow and liner, blush and bronzer.  Then it was time for another rubber suit along with the high-heeled boots.  But this time, she was scared and obedient rather than sullen and uncooperative; this time he didn’t have to use force to make her obey nor did he require her to wear a hood.  She reacted to each of his commands like a robot, obviously frightened and wanting to please him, but with her eyes and face dead of all real emotions. 

These things in a lover, he told himself, are over-rated.

Like the other suit, this one could be opened at the crotch to make it easier to insert appliances…..which he did.  She groaned softly even as she “willingly” accepted them inside her body.  And as with the first suit too, this one had the two small openings in front for her breasts.  But this outfit was more of a ribbed cat suit with a stiff, high rising punishment collar that epitomized the uncertainty and total lack of control she had over her current life. 

Finally dressed, milky white breasts arrogantly protruding from the suit she wore, the captive woman stood waiting patiently as he pulled her combed-out hair back into a tightly severe blonde ponytail, then forced a large black leather pear gag into her mouth and finished off the look with a strap across her mouth that matched the suit.  He attached silver chains to the side of each nostril and draped them across her cheeks to a hole in each ear. 

His little whore winced as he finished off the look with the taut silver chain that was connected to the tip of each pierced breast, and which pulled them tightly together.  Another chain ran from each exposed nipple up through the nose ring and down to her other nipple.  Like her first chain, he had purposely cut this one to be a tight fit and it seemed to cause the chastened TV woman more than a little discomfort. 

Tough.

He put the slutty dangly earrings the whore had originally worn back in her ear lobes and then hobbled the bitch with a thick silver chain.  She wobbled on the high-heeled boots as she took small mincing steps with her head permanently bowed due both to the nipple-nose ring chains she wore and the design of the punishment collar.  He was rewarded with repeated groans as she walked around and performed with the huge vaginal dildo he’d inserted earlier, but she still always did exactly as she was ordered. 

Nice doggy! 

The contrast between the black rubber suit, the silver rings and chains and her bright red finger nails made a lovely sight.  Although still sore, a nights’ sleep had obviously helped take away some of the pain, and Jamie’s protruding breasts were compactly beautiful mounds of marbled white skin marked only by the faintest blue tracery of veins and light rose to brown, slightly raw and swollen tips that had been captured by the shiny metal chains, but which were always jiggling and swinging from side to side in firm and upright arrogance as she walked. 

Her hips and tightly bound ass-cheeks just beckoned to the man, for the pussy insert and stiletto-heeled boots had worked just as he had hoped.  As the hobbled TV slut minced around the play room for him, her beautifully emphasized and tightly wrapped buttocks rolled in an exaggerated and quite erotic movement that reminded him of the sexiest of catwalk models. 

She wore the rubber until the early afternoon.  He played with her like a cat would a mouse.  She was totally helpless, but while she didn’t fight him, she wasn’t totally cooperative either.  She’d promised to try harder at first, but he spanked her ass some more for what he perceived as her blatant, less than enthusiastic compliance.  As additional punishment for this possible disobedience, he left her bound and posed on a couple of his full-sized toys for a few hours.  She cried and sweated and swore that she knew what he wanted now.  But he was unrelenting and the recalcitrant slave suffered for her arrogance. 

But best of all, despite how sore her pussy must have been, he fucked her afterwards, just like before.  She grimaced at first with the brutality of his entrance, but was much more cooperative this time, even taking the lead at some points and responding well at other times.  He well knew that she was hiding the pain and faking her responses and orgasms, but he didn’t care in the least.  He wasn’t planning on marrying the cunt and he certainly didn’t want to get to know her any better either.  She was nothing but meat to him.  Taking her flesh and using it in a brutally uncompromising manner was all he had ever really wanted from the slut.

And when he was finished, he made her strip off the cat suit and gave her only a little time to recover before making her go on to the next performance he had planned.  Now he really was going to test her.  The captive woman clearly hurt everywhere, but that didn’t matter for he had several roles he wanted her perform and now was the time for her to begin her acting career.  

Not A Bad Actress For The Camera Never Lies or This Woman’s Burden Was To Entertain The Backdoor Man

The kidnapper removed her nose ring and then forced Jamie to fix her hair again and redo the makeup he’d ruined over the preceding few hours.  When she was ready, he forced the totally compliant slut to slip a black garter belt around her tiny waist and don sheer, light pencil-grey stockings with a darker grey welt at the top.  Over this, minus bra and panties, the abducted woman was allowed to wear only the short grey, tightly fitting $2500 Valentino Couture tunic dress and the $850 grey Atwood stiletto pumps that he’d stolen from her bedroom closet. 

While she got ready for one of the most important roles of her life on camera, he prepared the scene.  The rape bed was placed near one corner of the room, the head of the bed about six feet from one wall that was covered floor to ceiling by a glass mirror.  Multiple high-intensity lights mounted in the ceiling shone down on the bed and the corner, covering the small area with an almost blinding glare. 

Two large professional video cameras were positioned around the bed, one about five feet away and immediately to the side and one at the head of the bed, between the bed and the mirror, and looking down on the bed, so that the whore would be looking up and into its lens the whole time the whole time he was riding her.  He could have used some of the many small, unobtrusive cameras that he owned, but he wanted the slut to know that he was videoing every move, every sound that she made.  It would be more intimidating while he was fucking her and more demoralizing afterwards when she’d had some time to think about having captured what he’d done to her on tape. 

Two large television screens had been mounted, one on top of the other, to the wall alongside the bed.  The lower screen was at eye level if you were crouching on the mattress.  The cameras were connected to TV screens, the camera at the head of the bed set up to feed the upper screen, the camera to the side feeding the lower screen.  Both cameras had the ability to play back earlier recordings while still capturing live performances. 

He placed a medium-sized butt plug near the base of the second camera; he had some definite ideas about what direction this was all headed.  Next, he hung two large white king-sized bed sheets from the ceiling about ten feet from the foot of the bed, blocking the rest of the torture room from the view of the camera at the head of the bed. 

Finally ready for her next performance, he looked back at the bitch slowly putting the last of her makeup on and got hard just thinking about what he was going to do to her.  It was obvious to him that the reluctant slut was dragging things out as long in her little haven for as she could and still avoid being punished, but regardless, she was finally ready for him after having brushed her long blonde hair out one last time. 

The masked man turned both cameras to record and then beckoned her with two crooked fingers to come out of what had almost become the safety of her cocoon-like cell and over to the blindingly lit bed in the corner of the room.  The helpless woman that he had abducted had learned a few things about what was acceptable behavior under his tutelage; she had to know exactly what was coming but she stood docilely by the side of the bed with her hands at her side.

He knew that she had to ache in every part of her body.  It was too bad that she was such a whore, for she looked perfect to him at this moment, absolutely fucking gorgeous.  She’d spent a lot of time on her eyes, emphasizing them with liner and mascara, and a nice light-red gloss exquisitely accentuated the lush contours of her lips.  The tight grey dress she wore had been tailored to embrace her breasts, cupping them and emphasizing their firmly upright and out-thrust beauty before dropping down to hug her tiny waist; its length ended barely two inches below the bottom swell of her amazing ass. 

The sheer, very light-grey nylons on her legs shimmered in the glare of the lights with her every move, and the grey high-heels added at least five additional inches of spiked loveliness.  She struggled with the dress’s hem, trying to pull it down a little every time she moved.  The dress was so short that about half of the darker-grey stocking welts at the very top of her muscular thighs were visible with her every move….the dress absolutely had not been designed to be worn with stockings, but man, oh, man, did it ever result in one hell of fucking sexy look. 

He just looked at the beauty of his captive for a moment before he touched and stroked her breasts.  She stiffened and her head came up….and he pulled her to him and gave her a long deep French kiss.  His tongue probed her mouth for a moment without her responding and then he stepped back and without a word of warning, he threw her on the bed.  His whore cried out in fright as she bounced once and then he used her hair to drag her to her hands and knees. 

Left hand full of thick, blonde hair, the masked man slapped the side of his slut’s head again to remind her of her new position in life, then pulled his bottoms off, climbed onto the bed, knelt to her rear and arranged himself for a moment.  Finally, he moved up against her hips as his hands slowly raised the hem of the tight grey dress higher and stroked the backs of the slickly-stockinged thighs that he’d bared for the side-positioned camera.  The victim’s short dress was now up around her waist, exposing her firm thighs and bare bottom.  It was time to see if she was ready yet. 

As Jamie knelt on the bed doggy-style and he had stood by the side of the bed, she could actually see him for the first time.  His chest was hairier than she was used to, and more heavily muscled.  And while she’d been taking the brunt of his fucking for two days, she’d never really seen him.  She’d never taken comparative anatomy, but she’d been with quite a few men.  And this man qualified as extremely well-endowed no matter whom one was comparing.  His organ was brutishly thick along all of its length, and girded by a net of dark, swollen veins.  The huge head pounded like a heart from the blood that had forced its way into it and its lust widened slit was already weeping pre-ejaculate.  She knew her expression changed when she saw him like this, and she was humiliated when she felt a tinge of pink creep onto her cheeks. 

Then he moved away and climbed onto the mattress behind her.  She felt the monster’s hand probe between her legs and she instinctively hunched her back in a weak attempt to protect her most intimate area.  Too late, she realized how even this tiny act of defiance infuriated the man that controlled her life now, but luckily he just slapped her on the side of the head after giving her wrist an awful twist.  She cried out once more in pain and then froze as he leaned against her rear and rubbed his hard length up and down the length of her butt crack. 

“Are you ready for me yet, honey?” the man asked softly.  Jamie felt a hand on her bottom and froze.  The man spit and she felt it land in the crack of her buttocks.  His coldly uncaring finger smeared the warm liquid up and down to work it in and then he spit again.  "Nope, you’re not yet." 

He slid the tip of his finger slowly into her anus, "But you will be."

He spit again and pushed slowly until it was buried deep inside her. Then, he twisted it slowly in a circle. "You’re going to look great on film."  Jamie winced as he slid it in and out of her bottom, pushing deep, pulling it nearly all the way out.  Suddenly, she felt him stop and then slowly remove his finger.  Now he took a few more moments to run his hand up the inside of her nylon-covered legs once more all the way up to her shaved vagina and then cup her there like she possessed a treasure he had just found.  Soon this bored him and he began to pay attention to her ass again.  She shuddered at his touch, but it didn’t stop him, for he touched her there once more and then dragged his manhood along her flesh.  She stared down at the bed; refusing to look into the mirror to see the weapon he was going to use to destroy her life. 

Her hips were shaking so hard she was afraid she would collapse and as she felt the slightly weeping head of his erection leave a wet, sticky trail on the skin near the crack of her buttocks, his hands gently parted her there.  She actually felt her sphincter tighten at the thought of what she knew he planned to do. 

He spoke matter-of-factly as he moved into position, “I know you’re not a virgin at this because I’ve already been there before, with you.  You know what’s coming and you already know how it’s gonna to feel.”

Then he confused Jamie by asking, “Where have you put the plug? 

Confused, she stammered, “I…I don’t know where it is.”  The man then spit again and then slid his finger back inside her, quickly followed by a second finger.  She groaned.  "Oh, I see. So, you are so anxious for this, you don't think you'll need help dilating." 

Jamie cringed at that, that wasn't what she’d meant at all.  It was clear that he was performing for the camera.  “No!  That’s not what I meant….!”  The monster interrupted her faltering reply with a question, "You are so anxious to do this, so anxious to become a video ass-slut that you refused my offer?" 

He slid a third finger into her.  She didn’t want to play his game anymore and she moaned softly, "Please, Daddy!.  It hurts, please, stop for a minute." 

He waited for a moment, as if to allow her anticipation….or her dread…..to build, and then he continued as he confirmed her worst fears.  “I’m going to give you another almighty ass-fucking, and you’d better pretend to like it for the cameras.  You know exactly what I want because you and I’ve done it once already and only god knows how many times you’ve already done it with other men.”  She sobbed once deep in her throat, but somehow managed to maintain the appearance of control. 

He chuckled for the cameras as he removed his fingers from her body.  “A slut with your experience at being ass-fucked?  You’d better groan with enjoyment the whole time I’m on you, just like the street-whore-that’s-made-good that we both know you are and pretend that you’re loving every minute of it, every inch of it.  I want to hear you begging for more the whole time, and telling me how good it feels or I’ll cane your ass for good and then give you back to the hook for another couple of hours.  Understand?” 

Her eyes snapped up to meet his in the mirror.  The masked man that was in the process of destroying her life stroked her bottom again and said, “You KNOW you don’t want to ride the hook again.”  She shook her head wildly in agreement, hair flying.  “And by the way, when you’re talking to me, remember to call me Master or Daddy.  As usual, either one works with me.  You stupid little whore, this is important….do you understand all of this?” 

She had glanced down in the mirror from his eyes to his waist as he had begun to talk but there was nothing to see for he was hidden from view by her own body.  As if reading her mind, the man had then moved enough to the side that she could see all of him.  He was hugely ready for her.  God!  Please, God.  Not that, not again she thought to herself He was too big….he would kill her. 

Jamie knelt facing away from him and in her terrified condition didn’t respond quickly enough to please him.  Angered by her lack of response, she saw him raise his open right hand in the mirror and spank her butt cheek hard, the sharp, flat sound echoing around the room like the crack of doom.  She jumped at the burning contact of his hand on her ass. 

“Understand, you whore?” 

With that physical contact, the monster seemed to have broken through the stupor that controlled her and Jamie frantically nodded her understanding.  She answered him in what sounded like a little girl’s voice, “Yes, Daddy.  I understand and I’ll do whatever you want that pleases you.” 

Then, as much as she wanted to be strong, she beseeched him, “But please don’t hurt me too much, Daddy!  Daddy, please don’t hurt me!!”  While her begging seemed to please the masked man, at least for the moment and satisfied his need for control, the worst part was how it seemed to excite him even more.  No more saliva!  He poured lubricant on both hands now and then reached inside her body with a finger from each hand to pull her apart.  Jamie screamed sharply in pain and shock even as she somehow forced herself to remain frozen in position ready to receive him.  He tugged some more, moving his fingers from side to side and top to bottom, and then, somehow, he was suddenly using four fingers, two on each hand to stretch her out.  Then it was time.

She felt the masked man rearrange himself behind her and then the tip of his monstrous tool touched her in that place…..the place that was right for him but not for her…..and Jamie cringed uncontrollably, her back arched helplessly, provocatively, as she felt the inner skin of her butt-cheeks rubbing against the head of his huge erection as he moved it against her.  She sucked in her belly and her stretched sphincter tightened uselessly against the oncoming assault. 

He had not taken the time to patiently dilate Jamie as he had the last time he’d sodomized her and she shuddered in terrified apprehension as the tip of his lubricated erection opened her up this time once more, but this time with ease and the greased rod again began slide inside her body with little difficulty. 

Her insides contracted mightily as she internally fought against this invasion one more time.  Oh God, not again, Oh God, not again….this was all that went through her mind over and over again.  Jamie’s mind raced; she didn’t want him to hurt her anymore but she certainly didn’t want this either; didn’t want to be sodomized by him in front of a camera, didn’t want to act like a whore for him in front of cameras, didn’t want to pretend that this was something she did all the time. 

Despite the inability of her sphincter to slow him down, the pain of his entrance was still almost overwhelming.  Panic’d, she tried to say something to make it obvious on the video that she wasn’t a voluntary participant!  “No,” she gasped suddenly, “this wasn’t…it…oh….ohhh….uhhhhhhhh….aaahhhHHH!”  She ended with a high-pitched squeal of outrage and pain because he’d drilled her in one monstrous thrust….speech was beyond her capability at that moment.  Her back arched more in response.  Her vision dimmed and it felt like someone had taken a battering ram and was trying push her anus through the front of her skull.  Massive fire burned her rectum and ravening shards of pain tore at her hugely extended flesh there. 

She could only groan in speechless agony for the camera’s lenses as the sensations emanating from between her legs and inside her pelvis suddenly controlled her whole life.  He was HUGE!  It was TOOOO MUCH!  Jamie’s head snapped up and the muscles in her shoulders froze likes blocks of ice.  “Daaaddddeee, pl…pl…please stopppPPPP!!!”

Jamie’s face contorted as she grimaced in agony.  She was a television professional, had hosted a mid-morning TV show for several years, so she knew exactly what the camera captured and how it worked.  And it was for this reason that Jamie knew she looked like some kind of maniacal…meat puppet….being controlled by the man that knelt to her rear.  And each of her terrible facial expression mirrored his every move by just a nanosecond’s delay. 

It felt like he was tearing her sphincter apart and in addition to the tearing, cramping pain of the penetration, Jamie suddenly felt her insides almost….stirred by his massive erection, and she felt monstrously, terribly constipated, like she had to take a huge bowel movement.  This feeling was a natural response by her body and completely beyond her control, but that wouldn’t matter to those watching the video currently being captured by the cameras. 

Her eyes bulged unattractively as he pushed into her body, her lips pulled into a grimace while her jaw locked tight and she ground her teeth together, trying not to cry out again.  Jamie suddenly realized now that even though she had been in terrible discomfort and real pain from the huge butt plug he’d made her wear just before he’d first taken her this way, she also had not realized how much it’s dilating effect had helped prepare her body for the following anal rape.  And while the terrible mass of black rubber had been appallingly wide and inhumanly uncomfortable at its’ widest point, at least that part of the butt plug had passed into her rectum fairly quickly, allowing her sphincter to adjust to the relatively small base. 

But not this time!  This time it was Daddy’s massive erection that had forced its way inside her and it was that which kept her stretched flesh pried open.  She knew exactly how big he got because she’d just seen him in the mirror and he’d been fucking her constantly with it.  But her ass had not been previously stretched out for him this time and his cock didn't shrink back to anything remotely resembling the black butt plug’s narrow base!  This meant her rectum was unprepared to remain stretched painfully, unnaturally wide open for as long as he was inside her!  Jamie shuddered once more as she felt more of the flesh of his iron-hard erection scrape and slide along the opening to her canal and then push inside her colon, continuing to open her up bit by bit as its’ thick, blunt tip possessed more and more of her body’s interior. 

Her body shook almost as if with fever, still supporting his weight on her hips as she was forced to begin accepting his love-meat as it explored deeper in her unprepared rectum.  Jamie groaned deeply, uncontrollably, into the unfeeling lens of the camera once more.  She felt like vomiting, but her stomach was too empty.

God, the little slut felt good wrapped around his cock.  And bitch’s taking it well too, he thought, as he slowly shoved another inch up her tight asshole.  He was tired of going easy on her.  The TV bitch, the beautiful whore that so many men had masturbated over while watching her fucking piss-ant show on TV, she was his for as long as he wanted.  His to do with as he pleased.  And doing exactly THIS to the slut pleased him immensely; it just felt so dammmnnn good.  It felt so good to almost encircle her tiny waist with his hands; it felt great to slide his hands up to her hips to control and direct her every movement, to know that he owned her shapely ass-cheeks that bulged out only for his pleasure while she knelt in this position just for him.  It gave him so much pleasure to know that he alone possessed her firm, quaking ass flesh for as long as he desired.  His alone to control as he pried and pumped and forced her ass wide open, making the perfect entry into her exquisite body exactly along the line of her spine.

He stopped with his cock half buried in her flesh; he’d known her type as soon as he’d seen her on that stupid show of hers.  The type of bitch that always got what she wanted, that felt so supremely superior to men and so confident about her future because she was able to use people.  He didn't even need to know anything about her in order to tell what a self-centered bitch she was….it would have been obvious to anyone who could see if they would have only looked. 

In the beginning, even bound and tortured while he’d molested her, he knew the cheeky bitch’d tried to talk down to him through her gag.  Well, she was definitely getting what she wanted….or perhaps it was what he wanted?  Didn’t really matter much either way, as long as it was his dick that kept all of her holes filled for as long as he wanted to keep her around. 

Her sphincter hadn’t begun to stretch much yet, so it was still tightly clamped around the middle of his erection since he still hadn’t pushed it all into her.  He looked into the mirror to watch her grimacing face and felt the need to play a little.  He pulled out a couple of inches, hesitated for a moment and then threw a vicious fuck into the slut’s ass to recover the lost territory and much more.  He smiled as he was rewarded with another soft wail of pain from his obedient ass-whore. 

But it had not taken long to fix that smugness and pride, to remove that natural superiority she’d flaunted over others less fortunate than she; the bitch had become so much more submissive and compliant as he’d continued to work on her, and in the end, her sense of control and arrogance had literally been tortured and fucked from her body.

He looked down on the slut that crouched on the bed under him with his cock rammed up her ass.  The young blonde beauty that had been so proud and superior only a week ago now acted like any other ass-whore, a slut that now could only groan in pain and whine her humiliation for the camera.

Jamie gave along gasping cry, her back arching as she furtively tried to buck him off, but his long, hard rod was buried so deeply inside her hips now that it held her frozen.  Jamie was desperate, her eyes were closed even as her mind was racing Oh dear God, he’s not in all the way and hasn't even started to pump yet and it hurts so, ooooohhh eeeeeieeeeee!

The man behind Jamie had grabbed a handful of her long hair and pulled back, jerking her head up and forcing her to fully face the camera.  His pelvis moved at the same time and as soon as she was facing the camera he took his first long stabbing thrust into her ass, for the first time burying himself almost up to the base of his cock in her body. 

Jamie squealed in terrible distress as she was suddenly, finally filled with his terrible meat.  Then it began for real as his hips began to piston into her asshole with a fierce driving rhythm that never seemed to slow.  Her torn sphincter instantly began to burn red hot as its tightly stretched muscle flexed in and out along his cock with his every driving move. 

Perhaps most embarrassing of all to Jamie, the terrible sounds of her being sodomized were being captured forever on video.  "Phut!  Phut!  Phut!  Phut!  Phut!"

Jamie couldn’t breathe.  She was coughing, spittle flying from her lips as her body convulsed with each deep, gut-wrenching fuck that the terrible man threw into her.  Jamie’s face was continually captured by the frontal camera, and she knew that the emotions that streamed across the camera’s lens were a study comprised equally of a victim’s pure horror intermixed with the pain of a massive anal rape.  Between the two cameras, Jamie knew it seemed masked man had driven himself so deeply inside the her ass that when he finally came inside her, everyone watching would think that his cum must end up shooting out of her pretty mouth and onto the bed mattress. 

"Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh, urrrrrrggggg!"  Jamie groaned and cried in unison with the grunts of effort from the thrusting man that had mounted her from the rear and who was so closely holding her hips now. 

Her ass-hole was still tight on him, and hot and moist, but he’d stretched her out now for his greased cock was moving much more freely into her body with each hard thrust up the small woman’s ass.  After a minute he was in full fuck-mode and the rape bed was rattling and bouncing, inching closer to the camera in front of the mirror.  At this point, he began giving a running commentary.

"Ugh….tell me….how much….you want it…..whore.  Ugh…..ugh….oh fuck….bitch….I'm so fucking….deep…..in you….you…..whore….uuggghh…yeah…ah….ah….ah man….I’m gonna…….oohhhhh yahhhhh!"

He rose on his knees to change the angle of his cock’s entry into the bitch‘s body and to get an even deeper slant on her ass.  The whore’s resultant high-pitched squeal pleased him immensely and excited him even more.  "Yeah that's…ugh….better….uuggghh…..take it….bitch….take it…..ugh, ugh……oh baby…..you little whore….I think…..I’m gonna….split you….in half!"

Jamie was shuddering under his driving need, her head hanging down and thrashing from side to side, her eyes wide with terror……and she fully agreed with his comments about her body being split in half.  She squealed and shrieked at the same time, "Oh God…… uggh ……. owowowowww stopppp … daddd ….. eeee …. Pleeee ….. eeeee …… ease stop!"

The man that made his captive call him Daddy pulled on her hair again, raising her face to the camera as he slapped her across the side of her head.  This made his ass-whore squeal even more like a sex pig with shock and surprise. "I want to hear you beg for more, you cunt.  Ride it like you mean it, you bitch!” 

The man that had kidnapped her was frenzied now, pumping his meat into her like a maniac.  The pain, the humiliation, the anger, it all coalesced into a white hot hatred that she screamed into the camera with every thrust, and this seemed to please him at least for the moment.  He changed speed continually, first increasing, then slowing the rhythm and then increasing it again, over and over.  In the end, it seemed that he’d finally had enough. 

He began to cum inside her. 

She couldn’t really feel it when he came inside her there, but through her teary eyes she could see the terrible man in the mirror at the head of the bed.  His hands held her hips with an iron grip and his head was held high as his neck muscles strained with the delivery of his semen into the darkest, most forbidden part of her body.  His eyes were closed in sheer pleasure as he faced the ceiling while his groin pressed against her firm butt-cheeks again and again with short pumping motions so that he could send his burning love deep inside her exactly where he needed it to go.  He pulled back slightly and then pushed back in for one final deep delivery….and then it was over….at least for now.  He collapsed over her hips, panting heavily as she felt his cock slowly begin to soften and shrink, sliding slickly from her hard used ass inch by softening inch. 

He Was Not A Man To Be Denied His Pleasure or Sloppy Seconds Were Acceptable During Her Descent Into Madness

Once he was off his sweet little piece of ass, she turned away from him and lay flat on her left side facing towards the wall and away from him.  While this small act of independence annoyed him a little for he wanted to see his fuck-toy’s face, he smiled in anticipation as he reached over the head of the bed and picked up the butt plug he had placed there earlier.  He spooned in towards her body and authoritatively pushed on the back of her right nylon-covered thigh.  The young woman he had just sodomized obediently moved her right knee towards the wall while leaving her left leg still extended on the bed. 

As planned, this opened her up for him.  He ignored the erotic, slippery whisk-whisk of nylons rubbing against each other that would normally have aroused him again and with one smooth move he spread her ass-cheeks and drilled the butt-plug a full four inches into her gaping, well-used asshole.  She gasped in shock, but he put his hand on her shoulder and clenched hard; she froze then, accepting his gift without further comment.  He’d liked to have seen her face, but hell, you couldn’t win them all.  He’d be able to see her face in the mirror when looking at the video taken from the side angle and that was all he needed. 

He looked at the back of the ass-whore he’d just used and knew she wasn’t going anywhere for a while since she’d just given him one hell of a good ride.  He took a chance and left her lying on the bed and went for a drink after locking the door to the play room.  He was gone for about ten minutes and came back with two beers for himself.  She still hadn’t moved on the bed but now there were suspiciously soft weeping sounds.  He snorted to himself; no skin off of his ass.  Then he laughed at his inadvertent pun. 

He turned the cameras off and then settled to the floor with his back to the wall.  Time to kill a couple of beers.  He was so relaxed after getting his nuts off in his little bitch one more time that he almost dozed off after half an hour.  Time slowly passed for both of them.  Finally, he was feeling energized and ready to go again.  He looked over at the slut and saw that she hadn’t moved for quite a while. 

He stood up, grabbed her hair and made his well-used captive sit up on the edge of the bed.  She looked a little lopsided, forced to lean to one side as she sat on one buttock because of the black rubber plug that filled her ass, and her face was red and blotchy from crying.  She avoided looking at him in the eyes; sort of like a rabbit trying not to look at a rattle snake. 

He was suddenly disgusted with the weak-assed bitch.  “Get over there and clean yourself up, you’re a fucking mess.  Fix your hair and makeup and then get back over here.”  She silently nodded her understanding, leaped to her feet and pulled her dress down as far as it would go before almost running on high-heels for the presumed safety of her little cell and the makeup and mirror that were there.  He snorted again at her attempt to run; the major ass-fucking he’d just given her followed by his gift of the big butt plug had made the young blonde woman about as bow-legged as any cowboy that had been riding horses for fifty years. 

“You got ten minutes, bitch, no more,” he hollered at her back.

Once she was in her cell, he used a tube of cherry red lipstick and wrote a few notes on the mirror for his anal lover.  This was, he mused to himself, almost like grade school for her….her first schooling in how to please a dominant lover with her ass.  He was definitely the teacher here, and he demanded high levels of performance.  And if she was a particularly slow and reluctant student that needed a little help, a little prompting to ensure maximum anal participation, why then, who was he to deny her these cheat notes? Finally, he gathered a few more items from around the room and placed them near the head of the bed, but covered by the sheet. 

Jamie hated him as she slowly limped back to the bed, but she hated herself and her weaknesses even more.  She tugged on the hem of her dress and shifted slightly from one heel to the other as she stood uncomfortably in front of him, bearing as best she could his visual inspection.  The anal plug was still quite uncomfortable; worse, she knew exactly why he’d made her wear it and was filled with dread for what she knew came next.  She could tell that the cameras had already been turned on again as she stood in front of him for his assessment and subsequent nod of approval.  “Better,” he said, as if he were some kind of expert on what a raped woman should look like.

She hated his eyes, the way they glowed with anticipation and complete ownership as they travelled up and down her body.  “Bitch,” he growled as he shook his head a second later and raised his fist as if to strike her, “fix your goddamn stockings.  You got wrinkles around your ankles, and there’s nothing I hate more than a bitch that’s let her stockings come down.”  Jamie couldn’t help herself.  She gasped in fear and quickly raised the hem of her dress, groaning only slightly as the butt plug reminded her of its presence as she bent over to begin adjusting her nylons, lifting them and tightening the garter straps on the heavier, dark grey stocking welts, all for the pleasure of video camera’s future audience.

He looked at the TV slut, scurrying to obey his last order as she tightened her stockings.  It had all been so fucking successful.  The arrogantly beautiful bitch that he’d watched on TV for so long was his; it had only taken a little effort on his part and now she was a totally compliant and docile slut, and there was no part of her body that she could deny him.  Suddenly, he felt himself stir again.  He’d wanted to take her in the ass one more time for the cameras, but hadn’t been sure that he was up to it.  Now, he knew there was no doubt that he’d be pumping her again in just a few minutes.  A good-looking bitch like her, she’d literally been put on this earth to be used for sex.  And there was no doubt in his mind that that she was the kind of amoral bitch that was used to going all day long with one man, and then long into the night with another.  So she’d be ready for him too. 

Although she’d delayed for as long as she could, the cunt had finally finished her repairs and so he said, “Bitch, down on your knees.  I need some loving and you’re just the little lady to give it to me.”  The small blonde woman he had kidnapped hesitated for a second and her face drained of color under her freshened makeup.  But then he shouted, “Now, you little slut,” and all hesitation was gone.  She jumped at his roar and immediately dropped to her knees in front of his groin. 

He looked down at his personal whore as she lifted her thick blonde hair away from her face and without being told, slowly pulled his tights off of his hips to expose his semi-hard penis.  He had not washed himself after ass-fucking her the first time, so his cock was still stained and smelled strongly of her rectum.  The perfume from his groin hit her in the face with the punch of a fist, and he rewarded her with his you’ve-only-shit-for-brains smile as the captive woman only hesitated for a short second before taking him into her mouth.  She only shuddered once as she began to suck him and lick the tip and base of his cock, and he smiled in pleasure; he’d known from the beginning that she was a true cock-whore who knew how to treat a man right even if she could taste her ass on his dick. 

He was plenty hard enough to fuck a goddamn roomful of women in about thirty seconds, but he let the bitch work on him for another five minutes before he grabbed a bottle of lubricant and said, “Put it on me, bitch.  Put on as much as you think you need.”  The kidnapped blonde quickly poured a generous amount along the length of his erection and rubbed it in.  She cocked her head as if in silent thought and then poured more on him and massaged that in too.  He laughed as he grabbed a handful of hair and dragged the captive woman to her feet.  He said, “You got that one right, you sweet little bitch.  We’re going to do it all over again.  You weren’t good enough last time.  Practice, practice, practice.  That’s what my daddy always used to say.”  He certainly wasn’t going to tell bitch that he’d never known his father. 

With a quick movement, he rotated his slut 180 degrees, grabbed the collar of her tunic in one hand and unzipped it all the way down to the crack of her ass with the other.  Then, with one brutal tug, he stripped the dress off of her shoulders and down around her waist, exposing her nude torso to the camera to just above her pubic area.  What had not been immediately obvious before was that she wore chains underneath the dress.  There was a thin, finely made silver chain that encircled her tiny waist and which only emphasized her glorious femininity.  An additional chain was connected to each pierced nipple and both then dropped from her beautiful breasts down to her waist, where they were then fastened to the chain there.  But she was not complete yet. 

He grabbed her chin and raised her face towards his as he then re-inserted the silver nose ring back into her septum.  Her eyes glinted with unshed tears as he connected the final two chains from the ring hanging from her nose to the rings that pierced both of her ears.  The slut was ready for act two. 

“Damn, woman, you look good,” he said.  “I’m going to fuck you like there’s no tomorrow.  But this time, you get to talk to me; you get to tell me exactly how much you like it.  Look at the mirror…..that’s the kind of stuff I want to hear from you this time.”  The abducted woman obviously had not noticed the writing on the mirror.  She looked at it and read for a second and then she begged, “Please.  Please don’t make me say that.  You….you’ve taken everything from me.  Please don’t make me pretend to like it too.”

“Listen to me real closely now, bitch.  I don’t know…..you might be a little dim or something.  You just don’t seem like you’re particularly good at this, despite how much I know you’ve done it before.  So I’m going to have to be like your director or something, giving you instructions the whole time.”  With that he reached out and grabbed her right breast.  He squeezed hard and she grimaced in pain.  “That means I want you to talk to me.  Say everything on the mirror once, real slow and just like you mean it.  If you stop talking, I’m gonna squeeze your tit until it explodes like a spoiled melon or you start talking again.  Understand?” 

Face blank of expression except for her tragic eyes, the TV woman nodded her understanding.  “And when you’ve gone through the list once, you go through it a second time.  Then, after that, it’s sort of free-style time, if you know what I mean.  You say anything you want to then….as long as it makes me happy.”  He gave her right breast one final twist and as she grimaced in pain, he said, “Good.  I mean it.  You talk dirty to me or I’ll tear your tit off.”

Then he grabbed the blonde’s left breast and said, “When I grab your other tit that means I want you looking at me in the mirror and smiling, or smiling into the camera.  You understand?”  The woman that he had abducted closed her eyes and nodded once again. 

Then he grabbed both of her breasts and squeezed.  “You know what that means?”  When she mutely shook her head no, he said, “Why honey, ya know, that just means I’m having a good time fucking you.” 

She wanted to say more to him, to plead with him, to beg him for mercy one more time, except that he’d slapped her so hard on the side of her head that she could barely stand without his help.  Once more, he threw her on the bed and then dragged her to her hands and knees with a handful of her hair.  He mounted the bed behind her and pulled her dress up again around her waist.  Her beautiful, expensive designer dress was now no more than a six-inch wide strip of material around her waist.  He said, “spread some more,” as he roughly pushed on the insides of her thighs and then pinched her there so she obediently spread her knees until her legs were spread an obscenely far distance apart. 

The position he had her in now was so humiliating.  He had her stationed like some beast stooped in a field, her pierced breasts hanging down almost to the mattress and her legs spread wide apart, as if ready to receive anonymous sex from any wandering male that had tracked her down.  She had been tortured and branded and pierced with rings, and her body draped with chains in some primitive version of slave hell that existed only in his warped mind.  She felt her cheeks burning with shame and embarrassment, all of which was mixed in full measure with dread of what she knew he was going to do to her. 

He looked down at the well-trained, sweet little blonde that now obediently crouched before him, ready to receive her next load of savage, steaming-hot love right in her still amazingly, wonderfully tight ass-hole.  He looked at the silver chain and the thin sliver of rumpled dress around her waist, both of which only emphasized how tiny her waist truly was, at the grey stockings that only enhanced the beauty of an already perfect set of thighs.  He admired the pure erotic beauty of the double-pull on the stocking welts from the two-strap garter belt that kept the nylons so high on her flawless thighs.  He looked at her exquisitely shaped calves, the muscular beauty there only emphasized by her heels as she spread them wide on either side of his knees in order to allow him full access to the heaven of firm, white flesh that waited for him in front of his groin. 

He slowly raised his eyes and looked into the mirror and saw her beautiful face framed by the long, thick blonde hair, the pretty brown eyes that looked back at him, eyes wide open and pupils dilated to the size of dimes in fearful anticipation of what they both knew would shortly take place.  He looked at the nose ring he had put in her last night and at the chains that hung from it and which ran along her cheeks to either side of her face and up to her pierced ears; the drape of the chains somehow emphasizing the shape of her eyes, the beauty of her eyes. 

He looked lower between her arms, already widely spread and elbows locked, prepared to support the weight of both them as he mounted her like a wild boar.  He could see her firm breasts hanging down there, the tips of which were already rubbery hard and extended by fear and hung with chains that now draped gently toward the bed’s mattress. 

Neither of them moved and there was absolute silence for what seemed an eternity.  The chains that hung from her nipples swayed slightly with each shallow breath she took, giving the only visible movement to the scene.  Wearing only her nylons and high-heels and chains, and with the grey dress pushed to around her waist, she was far more naked than if she wore absolutely nothing at all.  God!  She was so fucking gorgeous and he was so hard; he was ready to explode without even having touched her. 

His hands were on her ass-cheeks and he spread her there, oh-so-slowly just to add to the torturous anticipation that he knew she already felt.  He slowly removed the butt plug and the surprisingly strong fragrance of her already once-used dark-sex hole dug into his nostrils, the smell so intoxicating, so overwhelming, that he suddenly knew it was time and he moved with perfect assurance and flawless aim, and this time there was no hesitation.  His thick-headed erection, his eight-inch piece of hot, heavy meat greasily slid into her dark cave without hesitation right up to his nut-sack, like a slick brown eel going home to some dark, endless cave for the last time, never to leave again. 

The whore’s head snapped up and her eyes bulged into the mirror once more for the camera as she cried out, “Aaahhhh….gehhhhh…..godddd.”  He froze, leaving himself in place as her body convulsed around him, clamping down on his cock and then letting go again, clamping and releasing.  Her chest was heaving as she tried to breathe, making a short, soft, sobbing, “Naa, naa, naa,” sound with each exhalation. 

He still had not moved a muscle after so brutally burying himself inside her body.  Finally, after about a minute, she went silent and began to calm down.  As her hips finally stopped trembling, her eyes closed and her head dropped as she obviously tried to regain control of her body. 

His hands rested on her hips and Jamie somehow glanced up to look at him in the mirror looking at her.  She had forgotten about the cameras, about having been kidnapped, about the piercings and the chains, about her husband, about her career, even about already having been sodomized only an hour before.  Nothing mattered now except what was about to transpire between them now.  She was an intelligent, sophisticated woman and he was nothing but a brutal monster.  He’d hurt her and had purposefully humiliated her; now he was trying to destroy her.  She’d been willing to cooperate with him in order to survive, but she didn’t think he was going to let her live after this and she would never cooperate with her destruction being captured on camera.  He might destroy her, he might win, but she would try to maintain her dignity at all costs. 

Suddenly, she saw his pupils dilate and knew, as only a woman only can know, that it was time.  She had to be strong!  She felt her insides contract and her back hunch in preparation of his next assault.  Then he rammed himself into her with one monstrous, gigantic thrust!

She couldn’t help herself!  She shrieked in absolute horror at the sensation of a totally subjugating invasion of her body once more, an immensely intrusive, sickening feeling which was accompanied both by the massive pain of her sphincter being brutally pushed so far apart in order to accept him and the immediate sensation of her abdomen threatening to burst.  “No, no, no, not again” she tried to scream, forgetting her resolve to be strong as he pushed all the way inside her body, but all that came out were the strangled sounds of a woman in agony, “Naa, ngn, naa, noginnn.” 

All color drained from the room and she felt sick, her body weak, her muscles without strength.  The sensations from his having brutally driven into her like that were so overpowering that she couldn’t make another sound for a second.  She just wanted him to stop, didn’t want him touching her, never wanted another man to touch her.  Somehow she remained on her hands and knees as her sphincter shuddered around the base of his cock and her insides convulsed against the huge, lava-hot object that had invaded her body so deeply.  She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get enough air, and after a moment adjusting to the terrible sensations, she worked at taking long trembling breaths, tying to fill shuddering lungs that had suddenly refused to work. 

He still hadn’t moved after his initial thrust, but she locked her jaws and refused to cry out any more for his pleasure.  The only sounds that she made now were a couple of soft groans as without warning her abdomen and colon cramped at his presence and the unaccustomed extension caused by his deeply buried erection.  After what seemed like hours, she finally began to get her breath back.  Suddenly, she was breathing again, deep gasps to help keep down the bile that threatened to spew all over the room, telling herself to try to calm down despite what she felt inside her body.  But how could she calm down with him……doing……what he was…..doing…..to….her….? 

She inhaled once more deeply and he groaned in pleasure as she was finally able to raise her face and look at him in the mirror once more.  Jamie opened her eyes and exhaled loudly, trying to breathe the pain away, one breath at a time. 

Her face was flushed, her eyes were rimmed in red.  She tried to beg him with her eyes in the mirror to let it stop here, for him to take it no further….. 

His Anger Provoked Him or He Offered Her Not Just Pain But Suffering For Her Arrogance

The whore he’d taken captive took a deep breath and looked up at him in the mirror.  It was as if she seemed to say, is that all you’ve got?  He couldn’t help but groan in appreciation at the way her rectum and sphincter had clamped down on him with that one deep inhalation and the move of her head.  But her expression pissed him off and if she could breathe again, then it was time for her to take the rest of it.  He pulled out until only the tip of his circumcised meat was left to keep her ass-hole pried open, and then he began to ass-fuck her like the white trash that she truly was. 

She screamed in shocked pain again and again, “Gaahhh…neh..neh…staaapp!  Daadddeee…nah…nah”  But after a couple more minutes of pure ass-rape, the bitch’s body had finally begun to accommodate his meat and it was then that the sounds of a terror-filled rape began to change. 

He looked into the mirror and knew that with this video world would see that he was rocking her existence, that he was getting good, deep penetration for he saw her nose chains swaying and swinging like she was on a ship riding in a stormy sea.  He knew he was shaking her world when he saw her slitted brown eyes flickering shut and her mouth gaping in an “oh” shape as pig-like sounds of unmuted acceptance came out of her mouth in unison with his efforts.  "Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh, urrrrrrggggg!"  He felt great, but he was a little annoyed with the slut because he couldn’t understand a damn thing she was saying so….it was time for her to work on her diction.  He reached down and grabbed a large working handful of heaving right tit and squeezed like a mother-fucker as he pulled it towards himself. 

The blonde slut’s brown eyes opened wide with shock, her back arched and she pushed her butt against him, impaling herself on another inch of meat as she tried to relieve the pain.  He said, “Talk to me baby.  Come on, talk to your Daddy.  You know you like it, so tell me how much you want it like this.” 

The slut facing the mirror on her hands and knees gave a belly-deep groan of pain, then stubbornly shook her head once.  But when he increased the pressure as he continued to crush her tit, the recalcitrant bitch finally gasped, “Daddy…I…I….fuck me in the ass.” 

He released the pressure a little on her tit and she continued, “Please…”  She stopped for a second because it was obviously difficult for her to continue.  But somehow she did.  “….fuck me hard.  I….I want it…..from you….in the asssss….real good.”

Once started, it was like she couldn’t stop.  “Fuck me…aaahh….in the ass…ohhh…like a whore….ugh…like you know….owww…..I want it!”

“Daddy, don’t stop.  Fuckmefuckmefuckme hard.  Split me in half...ooohhh….with that big cock of yours.  I like it in the ass more than my pussy.”  At this point, he let go of her right tit and reached over the left.  He grabbed that one and pulled and squeezed at the same time.  After a second’s hesitation her face came up and she looked at him in the mirror…and into the camera that he’d placed there.  She was almost screaming.  “Come on, daddy.  Be a man and give me what I want.”

Finally, with spittle flying she did scream, “Come on, you bastard, give me what you know you’re gonna give me……..”

Almost shocked at her outburst, he buried himself in her ass and stopped as he looked at her.  He’d bored out her guts pretty good by now and she was much more loose around the base of his cock now than when he had begun this time, even when considering the butt plug he’d used to keep her fully dilated.  Her shoulders and back were covered in a thin sheen of sweat and she was panting for breath, her breasts heaving in the mirror as she supported his weight on her hips.  He’d already cum twice in her today, so he’d be fucking her forever this time before he came, if his heart didn’t give out first. 

The bitch had stopped talking now that he’d stopped hammering her ass and she just waited, looking at him in the mirror with those fucking gorgeous brown eyes.  Damn!  Every time it seemed that just when he thought he’d broken her, she’d come up with some way to make it seem that she was still fighting him.  Then she inadvertently wiggled on his cock once and that reminded him of the other toys that he’d made ready for her. 

He grabbed her right hip for balance and bent to the left over her body to grab a thick, ten-inch long black rubber, vibrating dildo; he turned the vibrator on and laid it by her left hand.  “Use this on your clit.  NOW!” 

The young woman beneath his hips started and then slowly picked up the vibrating tool.  She shot him a beseeching look in the mirror which he ignored, just nodding his head down towards her hips.  She swallowed once and then dropped to her right elbow, which pooched her ass delightfully into his groin.  He watched her closely in the mirror as her left hand picked up the long, vibrating toy and then went under her body and between her legs.  The girl’s eyes closed in humiliation but he knew that she was slowly rotating the vibrating head over and around her clit because he could feel the enervating buzz even in his nutsack. 

It was a little difficult to reach over her ribs and under her body in order to grab a handful of the left tit that lay on the mattress, but he managed.  Her eyes opened as he did so, and when he squeezed it hard, she squealed in shock and surprise and pain.  When he squeezed it again, she realized that it was her signal to smile into the camera for some future audience and into the mirror for him.  And she did this even as her face turned bright red with embarrassment.  Her smile wasn’t a hundred percent perfect, but it was certainly as good as any porn stars’. 

Jamie just wanted to die of humiliation.  She was still smiling into the camera even though he had stopped trying to actually tear her breast off.  Her brave thoughts at the beginning this time had lasted only as long as it had taken for him to begin sodomizing her again.  Now here she was, bent over with him raping her from behind, forcing her to masturbate with a dildo in front of the camera.  His hand was over hers now, ensuring that she stayed exactly on the right spot, while he only moved inside her every now and then.  The sensation of massive fullness, occasional cramp and impending bowel movement was still awful, but the sheer pain of his entry was…somehow…less.  God….could she actually becoming used to this?  Her body rocked as began slowly fucking her again while she masturbated for him. 

The bitch had a smile on her face for the camera, but it was the wrong kind of smile.  Almost stupid, or even dreamy in a way.  He fucked her hard for a couple of minutes and while she managed to maintain a low wattage simile of a smile, he truly enjoyed the uncontrollable grunts that he drove out of her with each thrust.  “Uggh….uggh…..uggh…..ugghh!"  He especially liked the way that her nose chains rocked with each thrust. 

But he got bored after a couple of minutes and purposefully took the smile off of her face with a massive, newly angled penetration that differed only slightly from what he’d been using, but which he also knew had to hurt her anus.  She cried out softly in response and her eyes filled with tears.  She stopped masturbating herself as she took a deep breath, and then slowly began touching herself again.  The young woman he was sodomizing silently faced the camera and mirror, waiting for his next order as she continued to manipulate her clit with the vibrating dildo. 

He took the dildo away from the slut and turned it off.  Then he picked up a long, white wand-like tool that had a bent tip that was covered in soft rubber.  This was the same thing he’d used once before and he’d guaranteed her then that he could bring a woman to climax with it.  Of course, it might not be so much help if she were also being ass-raped at the time. 

“Look at me in the mirror, bitch!”  He backed away just enough from her ass so that he easily could get to her pussy, turned it on and inserted the tip into her now wet slit from behind.  The little slut jumped when it went in, but then settled down with little more than resigned acceptance showing on her face; it amused him that she seemed to be getting used to it.  “Now start moving up and down on my cock or I’ll grab me some more of that beautiful tit you got.”  The whore he was fucking groaned once and began to ride his aas-pole again, moving up and down it slowly.  He watched her face in the mirror as he moved the wand around inside her vagina.  Suddenly, her head came up, her brown eyes widened in surprise and she began to blink rapidly. 

Jamie groaned; her body ached all over for he had kept her so fully dominated in this position for so long.  And as she tentatively began to slide her pelvis up and down his massive lubricated length just as he had just ordered, she absolutely hated the thought that she might actually be getting used to his presence in her rear end.  It was so unfair; tears threatened to flood her eyes for she had been so unfairly invaded by him on this bed and used so hard.  Everything he touched hurt so much!  Her breasts were so sore from being crushed by him and while her nipples were rubbery hard, they both still ached to the touch from having been so rudely pierced. 

But at the same time, her clit was also rock-hard from the prolonged attention of the vibrator and….suddenly….the most intense feeling blossomed inside her vagina.  It felt almost like the monster was somehow scratching an itch she’d never known she had.  Jamie looked up at him in disbelief and said, “No.  No.  NO!  I….I…gah….”  And she stopped moving on him as she hunched her back, attempting to protect her weakening control, trying to avoid his continual probing of her vagina.  Suddenly, she felt the most overwhelming urge to urinate as the head of the wand locked onto the magic spot inside her and vibrated only against it there.  God!  The sensations there felt…so….strong! So…sooo overpowering!! 

And once the monster knew he had found the one spot she’d never really known she’d had before being kidnapped, he never stopped massaging it.  Despite his awkward position to her rear with his erection still painfully buried inside her, a position of control which he refused to relinquish, despite her attempts to move away from him, his aim inside her vagina was always unerring.  It was if he’d suddenly been glued to the one part of her body that she too late realized was too treacherous for her to control.  She groaned and tried to fight him physically once again for just the tiniest moment, but his weight controlled her hips and he continued to dominate her in both dark places.  She then switched tactics and began to try clamping down on his erection with her rectum, doing anything she could to accelerate his final orgasm.  Soon, her muscles there had finally refused to work any longer and she was exhausted. 

She felt her little remaining control slipping away.  “Please…..I….stop……..stoppp.”  Her voice drifted into a silence that was broken only by the heavy breathing of two adults, one almost overwhelmed by pleasure, the other trying to fight its far too seductive embrace.  She stared desperately into the mirror, red spots just above her nose chains on both of her cheeks and a wild look on her face, her eyes and mouth both open in complete shock and surprise….and looming lust. 

She remained frozen, staring at herself, staring into the mirror at a stranger on her hands and knees as a man masturbated her.  And after another minute of the man in the mirror forcing her to allow him to manipulate her G-spot, as much as she did not want to, Jamie found herself responding weakly with one quick waggle of her hips into his groin.  The monster froze the wand in place and began moving his hips, smoothly sliding himself in and out of her rectum with complete control and assurance that he owned her now. 

Jamie was nothing if not practical.  She groaned again, partially in acceptance of the reality she suddenly found herself facing, partially with disgust at herself and in renewed determination to fight against giving the man that had abducted and raped her exactly what he wanted. 

He could feel the little slut react for just a second and then stop herself again.  He could tell exactly when she began to enjoy it and when she had exerted emotional control and pulled away from the cliff he was trying to drive her over.  That she had any control left at all pissed him off immensely.  He pulled the wand out and threw it aside, picking up the big black dildo and turning it on.  He put it in her left hand.  “You’re getting a little too comfortable, bitch.  Now stick it in your pussy and start fucking yourself while I take care of your ass.” 

He carefully watched in the mirror as she slowly, but obediently responded and in his nuts he could finally feel the cunt fucking her pussy with tool that he’d provided.  Time to make the bitch talk some more!  Squeezing a handful of right tit was enough to get her going again, and then like any other artist of this particular genre, he began to rhythmically and methodically fill her ass with cock while she fucked herself with a dildo.  “Talk to me, bitch!”

“Uggh…..Daddy, fuck me….uggh…..like a whore.”

“I want it…..ughh…..Daddy.  Give it…ughh…...to me like you……owww……know….gaaaa…..you want to!”

He continued slipping his lubricated dick into her now gaping asshole.  He looked down and saw the foaming lubricant that ringed her rectum and which allowed him so much slick pleasure. 

He threw another vicious, slamming fuck into her ass, and she groaned, “Ohhh….that’s…that’s…..”

She Hated Satisfying His Needs or Her Ass Still Belonged To Him But Her Attitude Had Changed For The Better

Jamie continued ramming the dildo home, filling her pussy with hard, black, vibrating and ribbed-for-her-pleasure rubber, while her kidnapper kept her filled from behind.  She gritted her teeth in frustration and defeat as she felt the two objects rubbing against each other through her oh-so-thin internal connecting walls.  It just…it just felt…it just felt too…too….good. 

She’d stopped talking at this point; they both had stopped talking.  The only sounds were his gasps for air and her labored breathing as she continued to masturbate, all overlaid with the grunts of air driven out of her lungs with his never-ending lunges that literally filled her lower body.  "Uggh…..uggh……uggh……ugghh!"

It had been easy to not cooperate in this particular rape…up to this point.  But despite the previous sexual tortures and beatings and rapes she had suffered at his hands, Jamie also realized that somewhere, somehow…this thing here….it had quietly stolen from one level to another totally different level…..it had turned into something very different.  And in that process, every feeling, every physical sensation had just snuck up on her on cat’s feet and combined into something that she was absolutely unable to control.  And now…..and now……and now she realized that she had stopped fighting him too.  She'd heard stories of this kind of terrible sex, but porn bored her and she had never had girlfriends close enough to really discuss such details as she now endured.

With her every moan, Jamie knew that she gave away her growing sensations even as she gave in to them too.  She could do nothing to resist them, even though she felt terribly shamed by them…and her human weaknesses they highlighted.  Jamie pounded her vagina harder with the dildo.  She felt mortified and knew that if she looked in the mirror, she would she her cheeks reddened with embarrassment and humiliation.  Or worst of all, was it lust? 

She finally realized that what he’d said to her must be true; she WAS nothing but a whore, his ass-fuck toy; he had somehow known it immediately after taking her and now, God help her, she did too.  The room stank of their sweaty bodies, her well-used sex and his previously spattered semen.  Jamie closed her eyes to make the scene in the mirror go away, but even with her eyes closed the debauched smell still somehow filled her head with the untrue, grunting images of the two of them, willingly having monumentally wonderful sex. 

She gasped for air now as she pounded herself harder and harder with the vibrating dildo, glaring at her face in the mirror, not giving herself pleasure as much as punishing her treacherous vagina.  In the mirror, she saw the man that had mounted her somehow responding to her actions, somehow increasing his already inhuman pace too, slamming into her body again and again, trying to tear her apart, trying to break her in half. 

Already hard, her clit had somehow begun to swell even more, more than it ever had before; she could feel the bud hardening, developing, growing as she continued to masturbate and he kept her rear end filled.  Her pussy was loose now and felt like it was dripping love juices onto the mattress below her belly.  It kept feeling hotter and hotter as her own body began to respond more and more as he continued to stir and cream her insides like a savage, attacking machine.

Her clit was under his finger…..and his fingers……oh, his fingers…….

Somehow, she instinctively knew that this was it.  Her behavior was terribly inappropriate, but she couldn’t help it.  Heat coursed from him straight to her sex.  Everything between her legs pulsed with hunger now—her clitoris, her labia, the suddenly slick passage to her womb.   Barriers cracked inside her, barriers she had erected, brick by brick, since becoming a young woman.  Now her protections crumbled around her and she began to cry out and didn’t know how to stop as the quivery heat that had been forming a ball in her gut abruptly exploded, as wave after wave of brandied warmth spread throughout her limbs…..

He looked down on his little bitch and then looked into her eyes in the mirror.  He knew she was this close, just this fucking close to losing it all.  He reached around between her legs and began to softly tickle and manipulate her rock hard clit; she continued to fuck herself with the dildo while he fucked her in the ass with his cock. 

That tiny moment of distilled clarity was all that it took. 

Suddenly, the whore’s self-control seemed to break, for she arched her back and pushed back into his cock hard, real hard.  “Bastarddd!  Youuu bastarddd!  You want me to call you daddy, but all you are is a bbbbaassstttaaarrrrddddddd!”  She groaned the last out through gritted teeth as he began to slap her ass-cheeks with his palm and fuck her like a maniacal machine. 

She gasped for breath beneath him as she spat out more words between grunting pants and the slamming fucks that he threw into her now welcoming asshole that was no longer hidden between her sweaty buttocks, “You want me….to tell that you…..that I want you….to fuck me?  I wouldn’t fuck you….by choice…..if you were the last…..man..an..an…..in the world!  But now….you’ve got me…..where you……want me……Daddy,” she said the last word sarcastically. 

His cock somehow hardened even more as she spoke to him, and he didn’t think it was going to stop, for with every pump of his heart his shaft surged longer, thicker, harder. 

“So fuck me…..like you want to……because this is the only…..time you get…..the real…..MME…HEE….EEE!”  Her last word had been broken into fragments as they both lost control. 

And with that, his now massive cock turned into a tooled machine that blurred in and out of her gaping sphincter, her butt cheeks stretched back so far by his clutching hands that the entrance to her black hole was showing the visible rim of brown greasy foam that had formed around the reddened, aching exit.  He was so deep her back canal that his cock felt like it had passed her gut, had already bored into her lungs and the tip was now racing for her diaphragm.  It was impossible to tell who was trying to fuck who harder. 

God, it felt so good to be inside her, holding her, fucking her, making her feel what he felt.  The delicious feel of her skin touching his sensitive nerves, as she gripped him with her asshole, gripped him easily now and he slid in and out of her body faster and faster.  He slapped her ass-cheeks repeatedly, spanking her and controlling the movements of her hips like a master horseman.  His iron-strong fingers had grabbed her hips and used them as guides for his pistoning cock.  Then he would change his grip and he would grab two great handfuls of tits, and these he used like reins pulling her towards his cock and then off of it again, back and forth, and then left and then right, always controlling her every movement.

For the whore’s part, she thrashed out of control beneath his groin, but continued screaming at him to give her more, to always give her more.  She screamed at him with spittle flying towards the mirror as she glared into his eyes, “You tiny…tiny man.  You hurt me at first…..but now I know you……for who you really are.  Satisfy me if you can…..break me……tear me in half.  It doesn’t matter anymore, because I know you.  I KNOW you!!!”

The man riding her ass began to beat her with his fist, but she never complained, taking it all just to keep him inside her body.  Within seconds, he’d driven her down onto her face with her ass still pushed into the air so that he could continue fucking her.  He grabbed her right wrist and pulled, twisting and turning her body until still on her knees, her upper body rested only on her right shoulder and she faced the camera to that side.  He then remained only on his right knee as he slid his left leg forward, knee raised and foot under his knee.  He put his hand under her silky feeling left knee and lifted, sliding his thigh under the inside of her raised nylon-grey thigh. 

Her body twisted, the whore rested only on her right shoulder and knee now, her stocking-clad left leg jutting out from her body parallel to the bed and draped over his knee.  Putting her body at an angle to him like this opened her beautiful ass up even more to both him and to the camera; now he began drilling her again like the slut that she’d become just for him only he was able to get another half inch or so deeper. 

Finally, tired of that position, he straightened her out under him and then pulled back on her elbows to collapse her onto her belly on the bed once more.  It was a dynamic move and he rode her down all of the way, never losing an inch of possession of her body.  Even though the slut finally began crying under him at that point in apparent humiliation, that never stopped the little whore’s hips from humping into his groin, begging for more of his cock; his blows never stopped her from grinding and moving against him, screaming for more, trying to get the last available inch of his meat inside her now welcoming asshole. 

Jamie had fully given in to her demons now as she felt his arm tighten around her waist and somehow draw her even closer; close enough that she finally felt that click of connection, that twist in her belly that said There you are.  His body seemed synchronized to hers; his breathing, his very heartbeat seemed to come in time with hers.  What was the point of denying him after this?  She'd been forced through so many indignities by him that she hardly recognized the deranged, lust-filled woman she saw in the mirror.  Her body was exhausted; she’d been beaten and branded and tortured, raped and sodomized.  He’d beaten her flat down on the bed for her arrogant, lying words, but she didn’t care as long as it didn’t stop him from taking her all the way to heaven. 

But the man on top of her now, filling her in a way she had never been filled before had not been affected by mere words.  No.  He was so confident and forceful….and psychotic….that he thankfully had never once stopped.  He had tortured her to break her and dominated her in her weakened state, and then he had manipulated her into becoming the whorish woman that he obviously thought her to be.  He had somehow aroused this sluttish demon within her, and then denied the real her any opportunity to reject these aroused feelings. 

Over the previous fifteen or twenty minutes she had experienced much pain; that was true.  But the worst part was that there also had been primitive, caveman, almost primal sex like she had never imagined it could be. 

And like she would never allow it to be again.  Dirty, embarrassing anal sex.  She’d been turned into a woman that had been sexually dominated, anally subjugated by a monster that could not be satisfied.  And there was nothing that she could do to hide this, for all the while her body had ever so slowly become ready for him, moist for him, her groans of pain and anguish had also been bit by bit assuming the sounds that could only come from an ever more sexually aroused woman.

Jamie cried out at the first exhilarating rush of orgasm that gripped her, literally so strong that it stopped the breath in her lungs.  He continued to thrust deeply in a hard, ever increasing tempo that matched the hammering in her ears, her chest.  Her consciousness expanded out ward until she could feel every tiny mote of dust in the room, and then everything contracted in an exquisite moment spent poised on the brink of explosion. 

In that moment, in that breathless pause, Jamie felt something shift, tearing deep within her, ripping away from her even as she poised on the brink of a convulsively hard fist of heat that spun out endlessly.  Light flared behind her tightly shut eyelids a second before the climax tore out of her, totally out of her control.  She couldn’t contain it any longer and she was bucking, yelping, crying under his driving cock now and her mouth made a pink “oh” as she said, "Ooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwww!!"  She began to explode, her nipples hard, her butt electric, her slit gasping in spasm after spasm.  "Ugh, give it to me….ugh….more…..ugh…..god yeessyesssyesss!" 

She couldn’t believe what she heard coming out of her mouth.  "I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum, oh fuck me, please, harder," she begged the monster for real, her voice rising until it was almost a falsetto.  She found herself opening her body more wide for him, whispering to him at the same time, urging him, begging him to split her open.  She ground her buttocks against his groin, somehow pulling on his cock, sucking it even deeper into her ass.  She found herself turning her hips and body again and again, just to rub her clit against him, as hard as she could. 

Her voice rose to an exultant howl.  Almost at the end, she heard a voice crying out, “ughh…yes…..ugh….yes….ugh….oh God, YESSSS!”  And she clenched him as hard as her shaking body could, trying to lock his huge cock in her ass for as long as she could, and then she shuddered through what seemed like a hundred huge orgasms. 

In the end, when she finally came, she came quickly, screaming and scratching at the mattress as he tried to drive her across the bed and through the mattress.  She heard him whisper softly in her ear, “Breathe, breathe through the rise and the climax will be deeper.  Breathe in and you’ll empty out with me.”  She felt him clench and then push harder into her ass as he finally shot the last of his load deep inside her.  Jamie’s whole body clenched against his erection for what seemed hours, and then she felt herself melt into the bed, her muscles completely relaxed, unable to move. 

Jamie covered her face with her hands so that she would not have to look into the mirror.  She didn’t even care when he climbed off of her hips and wiped his erection off on her back and her rumpled dress.

As many women as he taken this way, he’d never ridden a woman quite like this.  The little whore was supporting the full weight of his body as she shuddered through multiple orgasms, all the while screaming directly into the camera lens, “Oh my God, YESSS.  Deeper.  Oh my dear God, YEESSSSS.  YESSSYESSYESS.  Fuck me you bastaaarddd…..you wanted me bad enough to kidnap me….now fuck me!!!” 

She had clamped down hard on him three or four times and the best that he could do was gasp.  The friction of the strokes he made into her ass burned hotter than her skin, hotter even than his.  He climbed the slope to cumming until his body’s anticipation actually hurt and his stones felt as if they were actually made of that material.  He felt them pull up urgently between his legs as he finally squeezed off what felt like a giant load of cum deep inside her rectum. 

And then finished for now, he collapsed on her back, totally breathless but greatly satisfied. 

Surprisingly, he had not yet softened after cumming.  He felt like an actor in one of those commercials If you’re still hard after twelve hours, call your physician.  But man, this had been all natural.  His breathing finally under control, he rolled off of his now quietly compliant little whore and then twisted her so that she lay on her left side again facing the wall; this way he could he spoon against her ass.  The nylons on her legs made sensual whisking-slithering sounds as she obeyed and instinctively curled her legs into a semi-fetal position, but she’d never looked at his face once during this time. 

He spread her cheeks wide and looked with pride of ownership at the still gaping, blood-inflamed, reddened sphincter that winked back at him.  The insides of her butt-cheeks were covered with foamed lubricant and, after a moment’s hesitation, it was easy to re-enter her again this way.  Her shoulders stiffened against his chest and she gave a small gasp of initial shock and discomfort, but was quiet after that.  This time he began with a slow stroke, moving inside her rectum at a much more sedate, almost affectionate pace. 

His cock aching, he still fucked her leisurely this time, savoring the long, slow, cool and calm strokes that went so deep inside her rectum, relishing the feel of her exhausted and stretched sphincter still somehow clenching around the head of his cock as he almost withdrew it on the out-stroke, and then enjoying the warm caress of her anal passage as he slipped back inside her as far as he could.  His hands reached around and cupped her breasts, playing with her hard, pierced nipples and the nipple chains while he kissed the back of her neck and nibbled at her pierced ears.  Then his hands went down to her less-well used pussy and he began to play with her clit, and then he finger fucked her slit. 

It went on slowly for another ten minutes, the slut’s face never leaving the white wall she blindly faced, her body accepting his but never really responding like she had only a few minutes ago.  Finally, he groaned out loud as he felt her ass-muscles tighten, clenching and unclenching around his rod.  She was working him, manipulating him on purpose; trying to bring him off.  But he didn’t care as long as it worked, and soon his nuts clenched one last time to give a meager delivery into her waiting ass.  He caught his breath and finally pulled away, his dick uncorking from her well-used ass with a soft plopping sound as the little remaining air trapped inside her colon escaped, her sphincter unable to close for a few more minutes. 

Everything Was Out of Her Control or Things Were Changing Way Too Fast

Jamie faced the wall in horrified shock, not seeing it at all.  She quite literally felt beside herself, as if part of her was standing next to the bed wanting to scream, or run, or kill him….or kill herself.  How could she have done that….with him?  No matter what he’d done to her, how could she have been so weak?  So stupid?  To have let him hurt her and then play with her like that, to force her to accept everything he did, and then to have…..given herself to him that way ---- her rapist?  How could she have been so reckless, so careless?  She scrambled for other thoughts to replace the awful images that continued to roll through her mind.  But nothing seemed to stick.

What had come over her?   She’d never experience anything like that before.  Never!!  At the very end, it had been like a burning thirst that just had to be quenched.  And only he could quench it!  The feeling had just swelled and swelled inside her and it just…..wouldn’t……stop.  It had continued to build beyond belief; pushing her at the end beyond arousal, beyond desire, beyond betrayal, beyond anything she’d ever experience before or even heard of before.  Worse, it had barely been relieved by her orgasms.  Whatever it was, sex had never been quite that intense before.  And she’d lost track of the number of fire-cracker orgasms that she had experienced when he finished her under him. 

She closed her eyes and tried to make the memories of what he’d done to her, and how she’d responded to each of torments go away. 

With those thoughts though, rage, white hot and unchained, began to rip through her soul again.  Damaged pride.  Howling anger sharpened its claws, even though she did not dare give in to it.  Filling her.  Boiling inside of her.  Chasing away any remnant pain or aches, chasing away everything and replacing it with a storm of fury.  The rage both frightened and reassured her.  But then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone again and she still remained his captive, his toy to be used in any way he saw fit.  Maybe she couldn’t escape him, but she could let him know exactly where she was in all of this. 

After waiting a few more minutes, he grabbed her shoulder and rolled his well-used slut onto her back.  Dry-eyed, his achingly beautiful ass-whore stared silently at the ceiling.  He didn’t say anything for over five minutes, just stared at her profile.  Finally he said, “Are you okay?”  He knew it was a totally stupid thing to say to a woman that you had been torturing and raping for several days.  But also he didn’t know what else to say to a woman that had just performed like she had. 

The skin around her eyes and mouth tightened before she turned her head to him, her nose chains moving silkily on her cheeks as she looked him directly in the eyes and replied in a soft, broken voice, “You have me here, I understand that now.  You scare me…and I know that’s what you want.  I’ll do whatever you want and I’ll try my best to make you happy.” 

The beautiful blonde shook her head slightly and then her voice changed.  “If I’m your whore…….if I’m a whore now, that’s because you have made me one.  If you want me as your whore, I’ll be that….I have no choice.  I’ll be exactly what you want….I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

Suddenly, her beautiful eyes seemed to grow in size.  “You’re my Master, and you can make me call you Daddy….you can make me scream in pain when you torture me and there is nothing I can do to stop that; but you had better know this…..”  She shook her heads slowly, “You’ll never have that again.  I don’t care what you do to me, how much you torture me, how much torment and suffering you give me, you’ll never have THAT again!  Do you hear me?  Never again!!”  And then she turned her face back to the ceiling as one tear trickled down her cheek. 

Despite the dispassion--her delivery was as flat as a pool of water--he heard the words as a song, for she was truly his now.  And in a way, her response also relieved him.  With a delighted tone in his voice he said, “You are such a totally predictable, totally arrogant piece of ass.”  He regretted the momentary weakness he’d felt for her.  With a hard-assed bitch like this one, a guy needn’t worry about her really changing in any way. 

For sure, it was all back on again. 

He said, “Don’t fucking move,” as he grabbed the bitch by her hair and dragged her to her hands and knees again, but this time facing the lower TV monitor on the wall.  She remained obediently motionless, her ass to the camera to one side and facing the TV screen as he turned to the camera on the side of the bed and searched the video for the scene where she’d first begun to respond to him fucking her in the ass.  He went back another minute before that and then copied the whole scene from there to the end as a separate file.  He took this file and put it on loop play for the monitor that he’d made her stare into, and then put the live feed from the camera into a small window that he had opened on the lower right part of the TV screen.  This allowed him to both show the bitch what she’d been doing under him earlier and what she was doing with him at that exact moment. 

He grabbed her hair and used that to make her look as he pointed to the screen and said, “That’s you, you filthy whore.  Getting fucked in the ass.  You’re being raped….sodomized….but it sure doesn’t look like you hated it!  Not at all!  You fucking loved it, you nasty, dirty slut!  And now you and I both know exactly what you are!  You’re filth!  Naturally filthy!!  An easily-used obscenity that has lied to herself and everyone around her for as long she can remember!  Well, I’m not playing your game…so get used to the truth about what and who you really are.” 

Then he let go of her hair and spread the nasty cunt’s knees for the camera.  He showed the camera exactly what her well-used ass and pussy looked like; and this live view was in turn fed to the small window at the bottom corner of the TV screen so that she could see what she’d been turned into.  Her labia were so swollen that they stood out from between her thighs like two slabs of hot, wet-pink salmon.  Her clitoris was fully erect and out of its hood - a shiny, hot, pink peanut that was clearly ready to be used again.  And her vagina was still widely dilated from the big dildo she’d used on herself and there was still love juice dripping from inside her pussy and down the insides of her thighs. 

Now he spread her ass-cheeks and then made the reluctant whore look closely at what he showed her of herself.  Her anus was gaping wide open too and ringed with worn out brownish lubricant; and the cavernous butt-hole was drooling a virtual river of pearly cum.  His semen was splattered on her everywhere; staining the nylons on the back of her thighs, her ass-cheeks, the strip of grey dress that ringed her waist and her lower back.  He had to smile to himself; he’d definitely taken the cream of Boston’s mid-morning television and made her much, much creamier. 

But the woman on her hands and knees was shocked beyond belief at what she saw.  “OH....OHH...G...GOD,” she whimpered in awful disbelief.

“Does this look like the way a good woman would look?”  He almost yelled, “Look at yourself.  Now bitch, look at you ten minutes ago…does this look like a good woman??  Does this look like woman being raped??”  She tried to look away, but he grabbed her chin and used it to turn her face back to the monitor.  “Does this look like a woman who’s been kidnapped?  Well, does IT!!??”

The teary-eyed slut from TV was beyond speech at the moment as she watched the two of them have obviously consensual sex, so he answered his own question.  “No, it doesn’t.  You are a dirty, filthy, nasty piece of ass,” he announced as he answered his own question.  “Your nasty pussy stinks from being so well-used, and your filthy ass stinks the same way too.  Quit lying to yourself, whore; you need to admit what you are.  Say it out loud.  Say IT!  SAY…I HAVE THE PUSSY AND ASS OF A WHORE.  SAY IT,” he commanded as he slapped the side of her head.

There was a long hesitation, and then the dam broke.  “I’m a whore.  And…..I....I have a whore’s pussy,” the broken woman said thickly, compliantly, her eyes filling with tears as she watched herself being ass-fucked on the TV screen and then experiencing a series of obviously massive orgasms.

Jamie was afraid of making Daddy angry again and tried to stop crying, but it was useless.  Shame blended seamlessly with terror as she found herself more and more easily referring to him as Daddy, rather than thinking of him as monster or beast or rapist.  Nothing seemed to matter to her anymore, he’d taken everything and her life had pretty much been ruined.  And it took him so little to remove every freedom, to make everything about her life a lie, to make unclean everything in her life that she had ever valued, even if only unconsciously. 

She hadn’t known it at the time, but the life she had lived had been so fragile before him.  Like a house of cards.  Some cards, no doubt, could have been pulled out without much affecting the overall structure.  Others, when they were removed, caused just a shudder.  But then another card was popped out, and then two more – and then the whole thing collapsed, just like that.  All from a single action, from one little lost card. 

But none of that mattered anymore.  What he had done to her, what had happened to her, had happened.  And now, looking back, it all seemed so avoidable, if only she had been more aware.  She wondered if it had really had been a collection of random events that resulted in her being here, suffering his depredations day after day? 

Or had it been the insidious and inevitable workings of destiny?  She refused to believe that it had been her destiny to be enslaved by this man, sexually tortured and serially raped by him.  She could not let herself believe that.  Nor had it truly been something she wanted.  She thought about what had been done to her.  The monster’s masked face above hers’ on the TV screen.  There had been nothing arousing about it.  Rape fantasy?  Not in her lifetime! 

But she had wanted control of everything and she’d been used to her looks being the key to that control.  And when that didn’t work, she used her pussy.  Then she thought about the faces of the men and women that she’d used.  She told herself again and again the thought that somehow this had been her destiny…a karmic response for all the people that she had previously used and hurt as she had clawed her way up in her profession….all of this was merely a trick, a narcotic the mind offered up to help anesthetize the remorse and regret she felt. 

After what had been done to her, the best one could say about the universe was that it was all random.  But randomness was in the end merely a logical possibility that something could happen to a person.  What Jamie felt in her deepest, most secret place though, was different.  In her gut and her bones, she somehow knew the universe wasn’t random, or indifferent, or in any way benign.  The universe was hostile.  You couldn’t count on anyone against that.  And the broken Jamie wouldn’t ever forget it. 

At least that’s what she told herself.

They both were exhausted at the end of the day……….but he thought perhaps he had enjoyed it a little more than she?  The air seemed fresher now, sweeter, and the hours not nearly as oppressive as before.  Nearly fucking to death a woman like her did that.  Life was briefly, a little sweeter. 

He was still tired, though. 

It was the evening, and Jamie tried not to think about what he’d done to her over the last two days; some of the details thankfully were too hazy, while others were still too painful to bring up.  But her attempts to forget hadn’t really worked for she remembered with such physical pain that she could almost vocalize it.  The memories gave her a sharp chest pain, as if she had a fractured rib digging into her lungs.  A few memories were unnaturally clear because their clarity was so brilliant, and the events seemed to be happening to someone like her, but not really to her, it all almost seemed to lack reality, like some plot line written into a television script.  Except for how her breasts ached and how sore she was between her legs, both vagina and rear-end.  That was real.  And regardless of however she made herself feel right now, Jamie also knew that this reality was one that would never go away; she’d be reliving these days and hours for the rest of her life. 

She'd slept with a wad of tissue between the cheeks of her buttocks that first night he’d taken her this way just to absorb the small trickles of fluid that continued to leak from inside her body and would do so again tonight.  The worst part was how sore she was and how little he cared.  Despite that fact that she could barely walk and found it almost impossible to sit down, his demands never ceased.  But they had not been physically sexual for the hour following that incredible scene on the bed, not then….for he’d seemed as sexually exhausted as she.  Rather, it was modeling dresses and lingerie for him.  But she’d found herself embarrassed, reluctant to walk for him while modeling, for all she could manage were short, tentative, bow-legged steps that in any other situation would have certainly raised laughing comments.  Too much time working out at the gym?  Uncomfortably tight thongs?  Hemorrhoids?

She’d wanted to cooperate earlier today, had really tried to be good to him, to please him.  But paradoxically, the harder she’d tried, the more she had found it almost impossible to give him everything he’d wanted.  And he had been unforgiving of even her smallest failures.  Ironically, for someone as sexually experienced as she, she’d been almost too embarrassed to go all the way and totally submerge herself in his sick sexual fantasies. 

Despite her clear determination to operate in survival mode, she’d still found herself trying to hold back just a little, never giving completely of herself and somehow he seemed to know every time.  Seemingly instantly sensing this miniscule reserve of hers, Daddy hadn’t become angry; rather he took each failure as an opportunity to coolly train her through the use of extended pain.  And over the day, it had worked.  God!  How it had worked. 

She’d been beaten and tortured into submission and finally, in the end, had given Daddy everything physical that he had wanted, performing up to even his exacting standards.  The petite blonde knew she couldn’t take any more of his abuse and as much as she might hate herself afterwards, she knew she was going to continue dealing with his needs directly, giving him exactly what he wanted every time he made a demand, right up until he set her free. 

At the end, she’d worn the heels and stained stockings she’d been forced to don earlier in the day, but she had also put on a sheer, slate grey teddy that barely covered the tops of her thighs.  He’d made her fix her hair and makeup once more, and then she’d fastened a light grey, one-inch wide velvet choker around her neck.  But of course, like in any other poorly written sexual cliché, these things were all the man had given her to wear.  The no-bra and no-panties decree were literally a rule for men like him.  And while she had never been a prig, somehow he had succeeded in making her feel more naked while wearing the lingerie that so excited him than she had ever felt without clothes. 

Finally, the day was over.  His stamina was incredible.  He had lain with her for over an hour, taking her twice more, long and hard and enthusiastically.  There had, of course, been violence before, during and after their intercourse, but this time it was of a frankly sexual nature.  Her neck hurt from where his hands had choked her.  This had been in the character of “consensual” violence that might have been common between two very physical lovers. 

She was tired, so very tired now, tired of being what could only be described being as his human Barbie Doll.  All during this horrible day, the man had never once stopped touching her before, during and after their forced sex.  His was clearly a tactile driven personality, for she’d learned to remain motionless for him as he endlessly stroked her nylon-covered thighs, cupping his hands around her ankles and running them, slowly and sensuously up her long legs, ending at the tops of her stockings or even between her legs.  Then he would play with her tender breasts, cupping them with his hands and fingering the piercings she now wore because of him. 

Finally though, it seemed that even a tireless monster such as he was exhausted by his sexual exertions with her and thankfully, he left her alone after that.  She slowly undressed and then cleaned herself, finally going back to her bed but this time to sleep.  Jamie thought a lot about what she had done today and what had been done to her.  Red dots of sexually charged humiliation filled both cheeks when she thought of how twice she’d had to thank him for raping her.  She thought too of how she’d capitulated to him in every way that counted, given him anything he had wanted.  She thought about what had and had not satisfied him, about what she could do better and what she could try to avoid tomorrow. 

And then she was in a terribly troubled asleep. 

Day Four

Enslaved Married White Female or She Learned To Satisfy His Needs

It was the morning and she awakened again.  She groaned and coughed and opened her eyes to see only the cell in which she’d been kept captive.  She struggled to think and the process tipped her over the edge from mostly asleep to mostly awake; recent memory hit her like a bank safe dropped from ten stories above; this was not a nightmare, but real.  She slid her legs over the side of the mattress, thin blanket sliding to the floor.  She sat there a moment taking stock.  Her head ached, her thoughts were fuzzy, her throat and eyes were dry, and her stomach felt queasy….had he drugged her again?  Her memory definitely was not as sharp as it had been even two days ago.  Her energy was leaking away too as each day began, and she awakened soaked in a creeping hopelessness that was almost impossible to shake. 

When he entered her cell, Jamie felt a familiar chill, the instinctive lowering of emotional temperature that she experienced every time she was with him.  He stood like a statue partially come to life as he inspected her like she was nothing but livestock.  Animate, but only so far as there was movement in his face and limbs.  Otherwise he seemed dead.  No heart, no proper feelings, no remorse, no love, no depth, no fear, no compassion, no true hate for her.  Just the mechanics of life, but without the essence.  The perfect master, living in a closed system of his own device and which was based on nothing but total obedience. 

She awakened that morning obviously ready to assume the role of cooperative victim and submit to his every demand.  He noticed the dark lines that appeared beneath her eyes as she smiled tentatively at him for the first time.  It was an awkward smile and suddenly her face seemed ravished by strain.  He found himself looking at her once more with a touch of unexpected sympathy.  Twenty-five years old, she had been driven to succeed by some dreadful inner force, some burden or ambition beyond her years.  Perhaps that was due to her rich father.  Whatever, it didn’t matter to him.  For the reality was that even if an idealist when first forced into their affair, what he had put her through and done to her ensured that she was not one now. 

For the next three days, in between accepting repeated vaginal and anal rapes as calmly as she could, the masked man continued to pose her in a multitude of ways.  In addition, he had created a small stage for Jamie and now made her perform on it for him and his cameras. 

Early on, he had forced her to study two short videos on pole dancing and then ordered her to dance with the pole on his stage five different times over a couple of days, each time dressed in a different costume.  Then he had her strip off every piece of her clothing in a long, controlled and totally choreographed manner.  But what should have been sensual and erotic simply was not up to his exacting standards.  It was her first attempt at strip tease, and even though she obeyed and performed for him as best she could with her limited practice and even more limited experience in watching strippers, he still beat Jamie for her perceived failures. 

Jamie began her act once while wearing a short dress, twice more she wore different sets of tiny but expensive thongs and bras, once she dressed in a Catholic school girl outfit and she finished the final act after beginning it wearing nothing but bedroom lingerie.  Generally he made her wear stockings, either thigh-highs or with garters, but always she was in heels.  Although she never wore the same thing twice in a row, hour after hour, it was always the same kind of thing. 

Jamie’s skin was once more essentially clear and beautiful.  This was good, since the madman insisted that her makeup and hair be perfect for all of the close-up camera views he demanded.  The man took many of these as she performed both with and without the nose rings and breast chains.  And he demanded that she always be smiling…..as if she enjoyed it, as if she wanted to be doing these things for him.  If she wasn’t smiling when facing the cameras or not, then filming stopped and he punished her. 

Sometimes he raped her in some particularly humiliating manner that was always accompanied by violence and pain, while at other times he used pear-shaped vaginal or anal inserts that could be expanded to the point that Jamie felt she might be ruptured.  Once he clamped her breasts for hours in a wooden vice that hung around her neck and it seemed he would tear them from her chest.  Her breasts ached even more than usual for two days afterwards.  Soon, she no longer needed his “…..messages that reinforced her good behavior.”  Now she always gave him exactly what he wanted, every time.  She had finally accepted a slave mentality, and it showed. 

As she became more docile and her behavior more shaped to what he considered conduct more appropriate from a woman of her low station and use, and as she became more expert, he employed stationary and hand-held video cameras to shoot her manipulated eroticism from various angles as well as taking still photos with an expensive digital camera.  She professionally humped the pole with her faux winning smile and wiggled her beautiful bottom at him as she peeked seductively over her shoulder without seeing a thing, her hair tumbling uncontrollably over her face.  Turned into a true whore by this man, she ground her naked hips and belly into the pole and then turned so that she could push against the pole with her bottom as she mechanically cupped her pierced and perfect bare breasts in both hands and offered them to him and the camera. 

Early on he made her watch several cheap, unprofessional videos of Mexican porn sluts performing live.  Then he made her practice these too, and finally she performed many of the same burlesque acts for his cameras.  While other things were physically more disgusting, for some odd psychological reason, one of the worst things for Jamie was being forced onstage in a shockingly small costume to do a nasty and unsophisticated striptease using several large silicon props, and then, when all she had left on were her high heels, he made her squat over an empty, quart-sized glass coke bottle and pick it up using only her vaginal muscles and then exit the stage while maintaining control of the bottle between her legs without using her hands.  All in front of the multiple cameras. 

It was incredibly hard for Jamie to do this, the difficulty being more mental than physical….she was a proud woman, an intelligent woman, a college graduate and a wife, a successful television personality, a rising business executive and professional woman.  But none of these other accomplishments mattered to him, for he made her practice the cheap, nasty routines over and over again until she was the perfect slut….and he had caught it all on tape. 

One time during an early practice session, one of her high-heeled sandals slipped out from under her as she crouched over the long-necked bottle…she fell directly on it and drove it hard up into vagina.  Hunched over in pain and humiliation, but knowing better than to touch the bottle while onstage, she desperately scuttled to the edge of the stage before removing the offending bottle.  He laughed until he cried; while to her it felt much like when he had first hung her on the umbrella hook.  Worst of all, to her undying shame he had caught it on video and he made her watch it with him time after time.  She was sore there for over a day afterwards.  But his physical needs remained and the rapes never stopped.

Picking up the coke bottle with her vagina was a terribly humiliating experience, but she had sworn that she would do whatever was necessary to get out of this alive.  And if all it took was to give up to him the last shreds of any remaining personal pride and dignity, then that was the toll he required and she willingly paid it. 

He never tired of taking close up shots of her pierced breasts in different positions and settings, but always with her face in the picture.  Sometimes she wore Daisy-Dukes cutoffs, other times she wore only a thin golden chain around her waist.  Once all she had on was a thick layer of baby oil.  But always, she’d held ice cubes to her nipples first so that they were hard, hard, hard.  He really liked taking her picture when her nipples were hard. 

Other times, he took photos of her at bed level with her legs spread wide apart.  Sometimes he had her hold her labia apart to show only the shaved, wet pinkness that tried to hide within.  Other times, he had her on all fours with her back provocatively arched, knees spread wide and her butt raised as an offering for the camera.  Sometimes her orifices remained free during these episodes, other times he filled one or both with his toys.  These poses were repeated with every change of clothing until she could do them to his satisfaction with her eyes closed.  Still other shots included her using ever more aggressively large dildos and other sexual tools on herself with apparent ecstasy. 

Once again, she took the fuck machine, but this time she performed for him willingly on it without being tied down.  It took all of her will power to lay there with her legs spread for the cameras while she played with her breasts provocatively and humped her hips as the mechanical monster fucked her and fucked her.  But because she’d behaved herself this time, he used the machine this time for his own sexual gratification rather than as punishment for her.  Thankfully, it was over as soon as he had the photos and video that he wanted.

The man stood at the foot of the bed and watched her beautiful, nubile body seemingly willingly take the mechanical fucking that he’d ordered.  She looked at him and smiled the whorish smile he’d taught her for the cameras and then she seductively whispered his name Daddy.  Her beautiful pierced tits jiggled like Jell-O and he could see the muscles of her tight stomach ripple again and again as her pussy accepted the massive dildo he’d put on the end of the piston rod this time.  She was a much more accommodating bitch now, and was definitely taking increasingly larger dildos front and back, ever deeper without complaint. 

He thought back to the black and white photo spread and videos of her covered with drops of baby oil.  Her gorgeous body emphasized by artful shadows, the firm pierced cones of her perfect breasts that had arrogantly thrust towards the ceiling.  Goddamn!  He wanted to fuck her again just thinking about it, but his dick was actually sore from fucking her so much.  He also savored the first time she’d willingly lay down with him on her mattress.  The trip to her bed had involved a rapid removal of her clothes, made easier in her case since he had dressed her so that it took only three motions to go from clad to functionally nude.  She’d smelled clean and fresh and had either been passionate or a wonderful actress.  He didn’t care which it was since she’d felt so good pressed against his nude body. 

He had laid on his back as she swung one beautiful nylon-clad leg over and settled down on him; remarkably, she was already wet and ready.  He’d slid into her smoothly up to his base as she sat on his crotch and squeezed him with her wonderfully fit vaginal muscles until he had finally stopped throbbing.  He was quick the first time, but came slower the second time.  On their final meet that time, fake or not, her orgasm came just a hair before his third; he was filled with satisfaction for he hadn’t gone for three in a row like that for over a year.  She shuddered for what seemed a long time, milking him with a velvet pulse, strong at first, but one that finally ebbed in satisfaction.  He knew it had to all be an act on her part, but that didn’t matter…….damn she was good! 

Finished, the man moved from her bed to the bathroom where he picked up a wet washcloth, and then he went back into the corner of her cell where he then sat down.  He was exhausted too.  It seemed like he’d already put about ten gallons of cum in this bitch and every morning she just came up fresh and ready, seemingly willing to take his cock some more, as much as he could give her.  He’d always lusted after her…or any woman like her if the truth be known, but he had never thought he’d get his own personal shot at her perfect ass.  But now he had her and he was making up for lost time.  His little TV bitch was hot as hell, and soon every swinging dick in Boston was going to be able to see just how hot. 

The little whore lay unmoving on mattress, completely used and totally abandoned.  He made a sound to get her attention, and then motioned her over to him.  She shuddered as she obediently rose to her hands and knees, but before she could get to her feet, he said, “No.  Stay like that and come here.”

She looked at him for a second through the fall of blonde hair and he could see her eyes shine with unshed tears, but she finally obeyed him and crawled over to the corner.  Filled with satisfaction at seeing the beautiful TV slut crawling towards him on her hands and knees, he motioned her to put her head on his chest.  She tried to speak, but her voice cracked into silence.  He placed his hand under her chin, gently tilting her head up so that he could look into her eyes.  “Let me wipe your face off.” 

A shudder ran through the woman’s body as she unwillingly lay her body against his, and he gently wiped her face off.  He knew his gentleness had to be unnerving after what he’d done to her over the last few days and that was part of what motivated him.  Next he moved her hair away from her face.  Blinking back her tears a couple of times, the captive woman shifted her eyes to his face.  Her hand lay on his chest and he knew she could feel his heart pounding like a jackhammer. 

Groaning involuntarily, his woman Jamie moved as if to crawl away from him.  But he closed his hands tightly, keeping her close to him even as he said, “No.”  Reluctantly it seemed, she finally laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes.  Seated on the floor, he held her tightly in his lap, his strong arms almost forming a protective cocoon around her.  He could see that the woman found it difficult to stand the schizophrenia of the moment.  Burying her face in his neck, she finally sobbed as if her very soul had been shattered.  All of her strength and power and dignity had been stolen by him the moment he had touched her. 

Well, he had almost enough material now.  Enough to ensure that she was seen for what she really was, to ensure that she never worked in TV again anywhere in which there was any kind of internet hook up. 

Finished fucking with her mind for the moment, he stroked her firm shapely thighs and then ran his fingertips lightly over her flat belly.  While he felt little sympathy for the TV whore, he was a realist…..she was his little fuck-machine and he didn’t want her to wear out too soon.  It was time to let her catch some sleep. 

He ordered her to crawl back to her rape bed. 

Day Eight

A Sophisticated Female Taken Boldly or Her Life In Ruins, Everything Important Lay Broken

It would, he thought as he looked out the window, be another cold day.  The cold glare of the sun was no aid in arousing him from the lethargy with which he had awakened….marathon fucking sessions always made him feel this way before the action began again.  But he felt a new drive now, a different need from before as the sun’s cold rays reached inside him with a smoldering sullenness and stirred something thick and hot within the animal part of him.  He felt at once dull and eager, with a feverish urge driving him to begin with his captive again.  He promised himself once again he would do things to her in ways that ensured she would never be able to forget this week with him. 

Masked as always, he stood in the doorway and looked down on his whore.  The captive woman always attempted to maintain an increasingly crumbling facade of exterior control: he expected no less from a controlling bitch like her.  But he also knew that her still face hid all of the fears he had awakened within and which now lay so close to the surface.  He’d worked her hard, trained her hard, taken her hard. 

She’d lost some weight in the last few days and there were dark circles under her eyes that needed heavier makeup to cover.  The two of them had been together a lot over the last few days and the best part, to him, was the new look that he saw in her eyes everyday now…it was the look of an intelligent animal that knew it was owned.  She’d fully recognized the inevitability of her situation, the inescapability of having to give him exactly what he wanted from her. 

It was morning, time for her to dress for him once more and already he was hard for her again. 

She brushed her teeth and showered.  He’d given her a tooth brush on the morning that she’d first left the rubber suits behind and begun dressing erotically for him.  Not because he’d been concerned about her dental health, but because her breath had begun to stink and it had turned him off from trying to kiss her.

She stared at the reflection in the metal mirror.  A huge part of her wished she could retreat from what she saw there; just wave her hands and forget that it had ever happened.  The same whispering voice in her head kept telling her that he was insane, that she was tough, that she would recover and somehow wreak her vengeance upon him.  She was in television, she was tough…she was paid to be tough. 

Jamie wiped one cheek and knew that the truth was staring her in the face.  She had spent a lifetime of making her own choices, proudly stepping out on her own, using men….and women….in any way that pleased her or got her just another inch ahead of the others.  She’d taken pride in all of those wrong moves, like the acts had somehow made her stronger, tougher.  She’d had a dead-solid lock on bad moves and worse men.  And look where it had gotten her.  Held captive as a sex slave, repeatedly raped and sodomized, with no one concerned about her absence.  She took both hands to clear her cheeks.  Then she just gave in.  A soft sigh was all she showed the outside world, a shake of the head, a weary lowering of the eyes.  Nothing really, just another woman seated in an empty room, looking for the strength to take the next step. 

Finally clothed in the new gown, the captive television hostess felt the terrible inevitability of her situation as she finished her makeup.  She had performed the hated roles perfectly yesterday, given him everything he wanted, but it had never ended; he had never stopped coming after her.  He was a sexual monster that could never really be satisfied.  It was as if the monstrous kidnapper had felt the need to prove again and again and again that she was only flesh and blood, that she was good only for feeling the pain and sexual humiliation he demanded she feel, and that he owned her sexually, even if only temporarily.  Intellectually, she knew all the reasons why this should not be happening to her, but all rules and civilized prohibitions suddenly seemed faded and remote, as dead as the autumn leaves. 

And now it began all over again.

“White shows you off well, my dear,” he said as he re-entered the cell.  The inch-wide white straps of the “dress” rose over the pierced tips her breasts like suspenders before crossing over her shoulders.  From there, they crossed in the small of her back and dropped down to low on her buttocks.  The straps then flared front and back to form a very short four-piece skirt with separate high cut panels on both sides, and front and back. 

Her newly pierced nipples were barely covered by the width of the straps and every move she made, every step she took showed both inner and outer thigh all the way up to her buttocks and crotch.  She wore a white, two-strap garter belt fringed in lace which held up slightly darker, flesh-toned stockings, and white pumps with five-inch stiletto heels on her tiny feet.  She may have felt well covered in some ways, but she still showed almost her entire body.  Underwear, of course, was out of the question.

He had never before started the day quite like this with her, but he knew the game was almost over.  He knew they were approaching the end of their time together……it seemed that now was time.  He glanced at her still perfect body without saying a word, looked down at her mattress, then looked back into her eyes for a second and then back down at the mattress. 

Like a well trained dog, the woman had been taught to obey both single word and simple hand commands.  Even better, after hours of preparation and training, days of humiliation and shame, the woman had learned to read him in certain situations without his making a sound -- she somehow automatically knew exactly what he wanted this time.  Always compliant now, she dropped to the mattress on hands and knees without a word being spoken.  Pleased with her obedience and sensitivity, he dropped to his knees behind her and then pulled the back panel of her skirt up over her hips to bare her backside and more fully expose the backs of her nylon clad legs. 

After applying lubrication, he looked up at the camera and then pulled on her hair to make her look up at the same time and smile as he mounted her like a mad stallion.  Even including all that had gone before between them, this one time became the kind of sex that he knew she’d never experienced before even with him and would certainly never forget now; not even the smallest detail.  Not the tiniest drop of sweat, the softest moan, nor every grasp and thrust of flesh into flesh.  He hurt her on purpose with this and he knew that she hated what he was doing to her, but the look on her face told him that just thinking about this kind of sex scared her too.

The masked man crouched over his captive and thrust his lubricated erection into her again and again and again.  Head hanging down as she faced the mattress, the breath was driven out of the captive TV woman with each slam of his hips against her buttocks.  Well dilated now, she still shuddered harder and harder with each of his driving moves and clenched her rectum obediently with each of his single word spoken commands, squeezing his manhood between her cheeks and with her sphincter in the way that he so liked. 

The push of her firm buttocks against his groin made it feel like fire roared through his veins.  He didn’t think he’d ever experienced such a rush of pure ecstasy with another woman, certainly not with the old bitch still vacationing in Louisiana.  And along with that fire came a terrible rush of joy, like a full-body orgasm.  He wanted it to go on forever, but of course it couldn’t.  After what felt like hours but was truly not much more than the time between blinks, it passed beyond his capacity to contain and he burst forth inside his captive once more. 

It finally sank in that he was done, finished for now.  His knees buckled and he pulled his shrinking penis out of her body, finding himself sitting on the mattress behind the semen-wet crack of her buttocks.  He opened his arms wide and flopped backwards onto the bed.  Well trained now, the TV slut remained motionless on her hands and knees for a moment more and then he watched the woman he’d just taken so brutally as she clearly tried to pull herself together, seemingly pretending that nothing evil had just happened.  It was an interesting time, he thought to himself, for the TV bitch to discover a modicum of dignity. 

The man snorted with crude, almost pornographic humor.  He felt wonderful and empty and hot and cold all at once.  Despite all the times he’d fucked her in the last few days, this particular piece of ass had seemed different.  It was like someone had removed a huge boulder from his back, one he’d carried for so long he had forgotten it was there.  He had no words to express what he felt.  Totally complete, yet empty.  Too bad tomorrow was the last day.

The woman’s day continued like the previous days under his domination and she performed satisfactorily, if not with short moments of unwilling sexual brilliance.  Suddenly, the day was almost over. 

It was late in the day and Jamie lay on her back facing the single camera, with her feet together and knees spread wide apart.  She’d just finished sucking him off and her mind was disengaged from all thought; she stared blankly at the ceiling as she lay silent and unmoving on her mattress while the masked man stroked her softly, tenderly……endlessly.  She’d been ordered to change into a topless navy silk and lace bustier, sheer navy stockings and pumps for the last act.  The man had brutally taken her about an hour ago and now all he wanted to do was touch her. 

Despite her vows, Jamie had once more been transported outside herself, beyond herself.  It was as if her mind watched everything coolly while her body raced wildly under his commands, reacting with fake passion and hidden fear.  She was frightened beyond any fear she had ever before known.  But this brilliant and intense fear, this terrible here and now, combined with the crucial significance of every movement of her body, it all had pushed her over a barrier whose existence she had not known about until that terrible time several mornings ago. 

One thing had become abundantly clear; he liked to touch her.  His hand remained cupped between her thighs for a moment longer and then he dragged it slowly over her vagina again and again and again.  Her drying labia were guided between spread fingers as he drew his hand over her genitals over and over again.  Each time he did this, his middle finger penetrated her vagina and he explored the inside of her well-used pelvis.  Then his hand would wander up over her flat belly, caress her pierced nipples and then go back between her legs.  The awful man never seemed to become bored with touching her between her legs. 

He scratched his face as he looked at her.  “Did you enjoy it this time?”  Jamie had learned to be positive in her lies to her master.  She lowered her head for a second as she closed her eyes.  Then she raised her face and looked into his eyes as she said without blushing, “Yes, I did.  But I wish that you’d pinched my nipples more and cum in my mouth, rather than down my throat.  I really like that more.”

Suddenly, his hand pushed at her hip once.  Then again a little more sharply.  Tears quickly forming at the corner of each eye, Jamie obediently rolled over onto her stomach and spread her legs……………

He sat cross-legged on the futon and looked at her back, her white skin and the ebony ink drying on it.  His skills in writing on a naked woman’s skin were not particularly well developed, but that didn’t matter.  It was the end of the day and he had to make a decision. 

“Turn over,” he said when the ink had finally dried.  She obediently rolled on to her back and his breath caught in his chest once more.  The bitch was absolutely beautiful and he wanted to run his hands over her body one more time.  He was tempted to tell her that everything would be alright.  But she wouldn’t have believed him, even though the lie might have calmed her a little.  The human mind is strange like that. 

But it wouldn’t have been the truth, at least not for her. 

He looked down at her breasts and ran his right hand across them.  She arched her back as his hand grazed her nipples, just as she’d been taught.  She smiled a tiny insincere smile and held his hand to her breast.  She’d become so much more cooperative in ways like this.  Her mouth opened to say something, but he leaned over and closed it with a kiss so that he wouldn’t have to punish her for disobedience and ruin the current ambience.  He picked up the brush and inked random symbols across her breasts and belly. 

The TV slut reached up and put a hand around his neck and pulled him to her.  To a normal person, this would have been an act of tenderness.  But to him, it showed that she still had not internalized her training of the last week, that she still thought that she could use him.  He lay upon her, the wet ink transferring from her to his belly.  And as he lay there, he realized that keeping her longer was no longer an option.  Tonight?  Or tomorrow?  That was the real question.

They began to fuck again, and every part of her body seemed to have become sensitive to his caresses.  He had only to stroke her and she would cry out and cling to him.  But it was still only an act of self-preservation.  Her sweat and his combined to wash the ink slowly into incomprehensible smears, leaving great stains on her futon. 

He entered his captive whore, holding her hard against him, and began moving slowly.  As he did, he reached out and opened the small rosewood box by her side.  Inside lay a thin cord of silk, about two feet long.  Lifting her head, he slipped the cord behind her neck and then brought the ends to the front. 

The cunt paused.  “Daddy, what are you doing?”  Her voice was soft and respectful….but it still angered him a little that she’d taken the initiative to question him in any way.  She was making his decision easier by the minute. 

He made a simple knot in the cord, and then turned his fingers almost languidly in its ends, shortening it. 

“Daddy, what are you doing?” his captive slut repeated as she looked into his face. 

“Relax,” he ordered.  “This will make you cum harder than you ever have before.”  And he started to constrict her breathing.  This was the decision point….did her kill her here, or did he go with his plans for her tomorrow?

As her breathing became more labored, he began to move inside her again.  She relaxed briefly, and then began for the first time to respond honestly to his cock as he tightened and relaxed the cord according to his body’s movements.  As the minutes passed, her body grew hot and her breath grew hard to catch, and he could see her head beginning to spin as everything she felt and thought was concentrated between her legs.  The sensations seemed to grow and widen, spreading to every part of her body, consuming her, tightening her like a bow until she came…..and kept coming time after time until she lay exhausted on her futon.  For the second time since he’d taken her, he knew that she’d reached orgasm because he’d been fucking her. 

The captive TV slut looked up at him and smiled her first real smile at him…..then he pulled the cord tighter now, watching it cut into her throat.  Too late, the whore realized what was happening and her body fought against him.  But he was too heavy for her and the cord was cutting the breath out of her quicker and quicker with every passing second.  Her eyes, her beautiful brown eyes bulged in their sockets, while her hands flapped awkwardly trying to grab hold something.  Her legs, the legs that he’d admired so often, kicked out awkwardly at all angles.  Her face, the face that he’d once thought one of the most beautiful in the world despite its….coarseness, began to grow red, and then purple. 

And the whole thing reached a sudden crescendo as he came then; it was one of the most perfect orgasms of his life. 

Suddenly, all movement beneath him stopped and the eyes that stared up at him were now as lifeless as eggs.  It was the moment of decision; did he let her live, or did he kill her like the common trash that she really was……… 

He suddenly let the cords fall from his hands as he began moving again.  She was still warm and moist and he was excited beyond all measure.  He came again even as she began to move once more beneath him.

Wounded In More Than The Flesh or She’d Been Fully Tutored In The Ways Of His Needs

It was night now and he still wasn’t sure that he’d made the right decision.  Tomorrow would be the little whore’s ninth day as his guest.  The old woman he normally fucked would be back soon and it was time to get a little more ambitious with his current slut’s piercings.  The man had drugged her again with the last meal.  You’d think the stupid bitch would have gotten wiser by now, but nnnooo.  His first impressions must have been right; she was a truly enjoyable piece of ass once she’d been taught the benefits of cooperation, but the little bitch really wasn’t very smart and pretty much deserved everything he’d given her here.  However, in all honesty, it didn’t really matter to him anymore.  He’d tired of the stupid TV whore and it was time to finish their relationship.  But for now, he just had to figure out what shape he wanted to leave her in. 

In reality, she was nothing but meat to him, literally nothing but a vagina with legs, a rather unintelligent cow that he’d trained to perfection and which now wore his personal brand to show his ownership.  Clearly, he would have to find a group of men to which he could hand her off.  For one thing, it would be an appropriate ending to her odyssey.  But even more, it would tend to muddy the water, ruin any evidence he might inadvertently leave on or in her body.  As good-looking white-meat, she needed to be set free in way that ensured that a group took over from where he’d finished.  She deserved to be tamed even more, treated just the way a woman like her deserved. 

His captive lay on the mattress and did not move.  She was out cold from the drugs.  After flipping her onto her back and pulling her off the mattress using a handful of her hair, he fit the rubber grooves of a metal clamp between her upper and lower molars near the sides of her mouth and turned the clamping screw until the tool forced her jaws open as far as they would go.  Next he pushed a piece of paper toweling into her mouth to catch any crap or debris that might fall down her throat.  Her breathing was rough at first but soon settled down.  Next he braced a home-made metal bridge on the floor over Jamie’s face so that its horizontal bar crossed about six inches above her wide open mouth. 

Everything was ready.  Thinking about what he was going to do versus actually doing it were two different things.  A little nervous now, he clamped a small cordless electric drill to the bar of the bridge and then peeled the unconscious woman’s lips back with his left hand while he cautiously used the stabilizing bridge to drill holes through her four front teeth using his right hand; two tiny holes, one each on the top two teeth and another two in her central lower incisors.

The fine carbide bit in and easily handled the tooth enamel.  He made sure to place the tiny holes close enough to the biting edge of each tooth to ensure missing any nerves, but still close enough to the gum on each tooth to retain strength and avoid cracking or chipping the tooth….at least, that’s what he hoped.  She never moved during the exercise so he must have been successful. 

The drilling finished, he now used a pair of padded locking tongs to capture Jamie’s tongue and pull it out as far as it would go.  Then he quickly duct taped the locked tongs to the make-shift bridge that ran over and above her face; the kidnapped woman didn’t look particularly attractive with her tongue pulled out like a cow in the slaughterhouse, but it was much easier to pierce both sides of it half way back in addition to the tip of her tongue and then install the small stainless steel rings. 

Finished with her mouth, the man went lower, much lower as he pierced her well-used pussy lips six times on each side and installed stainless steel rings there too.  She moaned twice and once slightly moved her hips, but never regained consciousness.  Feeling a little magnanimous at this point, in addition to antibiotic cream he covered the area with heavy grease to protect it from urine while it healed. 

Tomorrow would be a big day and the slut would be ready. 

Day Nine

The masked man looked forward to today with pleasure as he entered the small cell carrying three small spheres.  He could see the pain on her face from the drugs that he’d used to knock her out last night, but he really didn’t care what kind of headache the bitch had the following morning.  The woman he had kidnapped over a week ago rolled over, retched once and then drew her knees up protectively as he walked towards her.  The faintest tremor of cellulite appeared on the back of one of her upper thighs as she did this, then her face filled with horror as she realized the extent of his handiwork last night. 

Obedient to the end, she remained remarkably calm as she ate carefully.  Once she’d finished her light breakfast, he told her to shower and clean up.  She took a piss and then began crying silently as she catalogued all of the new holes and heavy metal she was carrying in her mouth and vagina.  Once the petite blonde was ready, he easily spread eagled her on the mattress and tied her down once more.  She was truly a broken woman now, for even in her extreme distress, she still behaved herself. 

It’s good what a little training can do for a half-way decent slut. 

It was time to begin.  The man had Jamie randomly choose one of the three small, dull gray metal balls he carried and which were only slightly larger than a golf ball.  Once she’d made her choice, he told her to watch.  The man carefully laid the other two balls down next to her and carried the ball she had chosen out of the cell and put it in a small, but heavy metal safe set on the floor in her direct line of sight.  It lay on its back with the door on top.  He opened the door, put the ball the slut had chosen inside, then closed and locked the safe. 

He walked back to the kidnapped woman and said, “Watch this.  Watch this carefully.” 

He now pointed a remote control at the safe and when he pushed the button, there was a loud bang as the safe’s door erupted with flames and sound, leaving the top shattered and in pieces.  Pieces of the thick metal door were even slivered into the sound-proofed ceiling.  He looked into the woman’s eyes for emphasis, then picked up one of the remaining balls and crouched between her legs. 

The sweet, demure TV bitch was quiet no longer; she’d turned into a wildcat.  But despite her cries for mercy and spirited struggles, in less than ten seconds he had split her pierced labia apart and shoved one of the two remaining metal balls deep inside her pussy.  He knew that she could feel it, for as soon as the thing was firmly inside her belly, she shuddered once and then froze.  This helped, for it only took another couple of minutes to wire her pussy lips shut with heavy gauge metal wire.  The man looked up at the woman as he finished and she returned his stare, frozen, like a rabbit seeing an eagle gliding towards it. 

“Now,” he said with just the slightest tone of satisfaction in his voice.  ”I know for a fact that you’ve got a nice pussy, maybe quite a bit bigger than it once was and certainly a lot more worn….but it’s still quite nice and we don’t want to mess it up now, do we?”

She frantically shook her head no.

“So listen carefully since I’ll only say this one time.  We’re going into town and you are going to do exactly what I tell you to do.  Jamie, do you understand me?”

Her eyes were unattractive, bulging with fear, but she nodded hysterically and didn’t make a sound. 

He’d always liked women that were sparse with words. 

There is a concept many criminals have become obsessed with, which is the idea of turning out.  The template for this is the classic aspiring pimp who needs to find a woman to work for him.  No professional will do it, because they all have pimps already.  So he picks a girl from his neighborhood, as unsheltered and unworldly as possible, and courts her.  Plays up the romance, then one day tells her that he’s in trouble if he can’t get some money fast, and that a friend of his is willing to pay $100 to screw her once.  After she does it, he acts disgusted with her, and beats her and degrades her, then gives her narcotics for the pain.  Once she’s hooked and working steadily, i.e., has been “turned out”, he moves on to bachelorette number two. 

Turnout today can be found in any number of situations.  The most literal is prison, where the idea is to progress as quickly as possible from lending your cellmate a cigarette to hiring him out to large groups in return for a double-A battery or some smack.  Most instances of it are more subtle though and do with the many ways in which people enter into, or are led into, or believe they are led into, lives of criminality.  However, for certain personality types, they don’t even have to be performing a criminal act, for if a person has been degraded enough they may just begin to think that they no longer have any personal value anymore. 

Back to women.  Do you know how organized gangs get prostitutes turned out now?  Nowadays they get them en masse from the Ukraine or Georgia or Albania.  Hold a modeling audition and then ship them to Mexico, where they beat and rape the girls in conveyor-belt style.  Then they are put up on homemade racks and tortured until there is nothing left to them inside.  A lot of the time there’s heroin involved too, so the girls won’t run away.  We’re talking fourteen-year-olds here.  At the end of the breaking-in period, the girls hate themselves, and the one thing they all understood was that freedom was something they could in no sense any longer claim to deserve. 

Like these others, he’d just turned Jamie out.

It was about noon.  The day was a little warmer than yesterday, but the man wore a still appropriate bulky coat with collar pulled up, thin leather gloves, sunglasses and a floppy brimmed hat pulled down over his eyes as he drove the smoky-windowed rental into town.  Jamie sat slouched in next to him in the seat, a blindfold over her eyes so that she couldn’t see where he’d held her for the last week. 

She wasn’t talking much.  Actually, she hadn’t said a word.  Perhaps that’s because after inserting the metal “pussy” ball, the man had stunned her and then wired her jaws shut using the four holes in her front teeth.  But first he had attached additional wires to the rings in the sides of her tongue and wrapped the wires between and around her molars.  When he was finished, she couldn’t open her jaws and her tongue had been immobilized inside her mouth. 

The kidnapper also had not wanted Jamie to see her face, so he had applied her makeup himself.  Because of her fear of the bomb he’d wired inside her snatch, she’d stood quietly and obediently as he slopped on a thick layer of moss-green eye shadow and champagne-colored lipstick.  Eye-liner, lipstick and mascara, all applied to maximize her features in the most sluttish possible way.  By the time he was finished, little aspect of her humanity or beauty remained to be emphasized by color and texture; the woman’s features evoked nothing so much now as the regular lines and patterns seen on a butterfly’s wings. 

Finally, he’d had her put on a short, navy blue denim mini-skirt without panties, a tight stretchy nylon top, without a bra, that massively emphasized the rings that still pierced her nipples, and strappy navy-colored high heeled sandals.  Over this she wore a short, quilted jacket with a hooded top.  He topped her off with a cheap, shoulder length wig of black hair and heavy sunglasses. 

When the man stepped back and looked at the frightened young woman, he could see his imprint everywhere on her body like a colorless poison.  The garish makeup and pierced body, the slutty clothes, the helpless sex and the submissive spirit.  He nodded to himself in satisfaction.  Even dressed down as a slut, especially dressed as a slut, the TV woman still literally exuded a certain coarse attractiveness.  But the most important thing was that she was a broken woman and would do exactly as he ordered.

He parked at the far end of a huge mall parking lot just outside of Boston.  Keeping his gloves on and his face muffled from her view, the man got out, walked around, opened the car door for her, leaned in and took off her blindfold.  Aware that someone might be watching, it took nothing for him to act like a gentleman just this one time.  After all, he had been trained by his mother to be superficially charming, not necessarily sincere. 

He helped her out, lifted her wig a little to expose her right ear and then pushed in a non-traceable cheap ear bud similar to that which the Secret Service wore.  He had the transmitter clipped to his sleeve like in the movies; with this setup he could talk to the woman and no one would be the wiser.  Finally, the man handed her a sealed envelope and told her to put it in the cheesy purse he’d found at a Salvation Army store. 

They walked into the mall separately, but the man was talking to her the whole time….threatening her with the maiming and explosive death she carried between her legs if she did not obey his every command.  What the frightened woman didn’t know was that she could have run free at any time.  The sphere he’d allowed her to choose to be put in the bank safe had, in fact, been harmless.  She couldn’t know that he’d weakened the door of the safe in several strategic spots before letting her see it and then placed a small quarter charge of dynamite in the safe before dramatically adding the metal ball she’d chosen.  And all the transmitter had done was set off the dynamite. 

The well-used bitch walked in ahead of him and he directed her towards the food court.  Once inside, he had her take off her jacket.  Every man that walked towards her did a double take as they saw her pierced chest flattened against the fabric of the too tight top. 

Jamie sensed somehow that if her nightmare was almost over, it was also almost too late, for she just didn’t know if she could continue to go on.  She already felt as if she were raiding some kind of last-ditch, emergency fuel tank.  She could feel herself digging deep into her reserves – of physical strength, of self-control, of sanity – through sheer willpower alone. 

Once inside the mall, she walked with her head down, determined to make eye contact with no one.  Jamie realized it made no sense, but she felt as if everyone knew what had happened to her over these last few days and she couldn’t bear to be seen.  She just wanted to go back to her home, speak to no one and sleep for a year.  And once she had slept, she would try to pull her life back together.  But she knew that wasn’t possible.  Too many things had happened to her; too many things had been done to her.  God!  She just wanted this nightmare over.

Epilogue

Whore From Professional Woman or She Was A Working Woman Now, Left Without Dignity Or Hope

As the man had hoped, the usual gaggle of pimply-faced, teenaged males was drifting from table to table.  The kidnapper had Jamie stand against the wall with a bored, yet rather sexy look on her face as he got in line for a quick sandwich.  Once he’d located a table with six, scruffy-looking young Hispanic men all sporting long greasy hair, the man ordered his now cast-off lover to approach the table and hand one of the boys a sealed envelope that he’d earlier given her.

Everyone at the table went quiet as the slutty-looking young woman with pierced, nipples, long dark hair and overdone makeup walked up and handed the oldest boy her letter.  He opened and looked at it, then glanced up at Jamie again.  She nodded towards the letter and it was clear that she wanted them all to read it. 

The boys passed the letter around, all accompanied by a lot of boorish laughter.  The kidnapped television presenter still did not know what the note said, but she clearly became both embarrassed and more nervous at the boy’s reactions.  They all laughed too much at first, but after looking at her face a second and third time, it hit them that maybe she was for real.  Or perhaps it seemed too obvious, too blatant, a possible trap. 

She may have been an obvious pickup, but the young woman’s master took no chances that the pack might misunderstand her availability and ordered her through the ear bud to sit calmly in a chair at the young men’s table as they checked the big room for police.  This seemed too good to be true to them and they were all wary.  After another few moments, the kidnapper ordered Jamie to slowly but “widely” cross her legs for the boys. 

Her head came up and her face went beet red as she closed her eyes in humiliation, but she finally obeyed.  It was that classic scene from Basic Instinct written live in front of the boys eyes and when she did, it was obvious to everyone at the table that she wore no panties.  The amused kidnapper was sure that this act alone was what finally made the boys decide that she was for real.  After all, who could ever imagine a female cop doing that for anyone they were about to arrest. 

After another fifteen minutes, the boys handed a bewildered Jamie over two hundred dollars.  At that point, the kidnapper ordered her to accompany them as everyone at the table got up and left.  Security tapes later showed that Jamie had been given money by the boys and then left with them willingly. 

Her original kidnapper later found out that the young men ranged in age from sixteen to nineteen and that they’d taken Jamie out to one of the boys’ van.  At this point she’d become suspicious, fearful of what came next according to the unknown script and had finally attempted to free herself from them.  But alas, it was too late.  She couldn’t scream for help and fighting against six teenaged boys driven by hormones and guided by lust was a short-term effort with little reward and even less upside. 

Very quickly, Jamie accepted their invitation to enter the van.  It seemed the boys had a tool kit which contained a pair of pliers.  With no underwear to block their view, a quick investigation of the stubbornly fighting woman’s crotch showed them the problem.  But it was easy to remove the wires that kept Jamie’s pussy ball in place, even as they left intact the rings that pierced her labia.  But interestingly, they didn’t remove the wires in her mouth for another twelve hours. 

When he read this, her first kidnapper thought that the young men probably liked a quiet and pliable woman as much as he did.  In total, there were twenty-one men in the gang.  When Jamie’s mouth had finally been set free and she told them who she was and how she had already been mistreated by another man for over a week, the men felt sympathy…..for about ten seconds.  Then it started all over again.  They kept her for another week before letting her go.  Jamie was well-used the whole time, ridden quite hard actually.  Many of her piercings were infected at this point and while all were eventually removed, she was left with several permanent scars, what she considered her marks of shame that required plastic surgery. 

On the day following Jamie having been acquired by the gang, the original kidnapper took two DVD’s filled with Jamie’s pornographic photos and videos, and left them at an anonymous rendezvous.  They were later picked up by a nerdy young man who specialized in setting up guerrilla web sites using public computers like those found in Kinko’s and many hotel business centers.  It only took a couple of hours to create an anonymous Jamie Hernandez site.  There was an additional $500 in the envelope to pay the computer geek to upload all of the digital Jamie data too. 

While Jamie Hernandez’s disappearance was still news at this point, it was more like second-page below-the-fold, definitely more Metro section in importance now.  The young man had no idea of whom she was and proceeded as he had been paid to do.  However, the sudden appearance of a new Jamie H website proved like cheese to the proverbial mouse.  And while there were a few initial visitors within hours of its being completed, word quickly got around that the beautiful TV woman that had seemed so determinedly upwardly mobile was actually caught on tape performing some pretty rough stuff. 

By the end of the first week, long before Jamie had even been released by the gang, the various pornographic photos and videos taken of her in the man’s loft had been downloaded thousands and thousands of times.  The website was finally taken down by court-order six days after its creation, but by then it was too late.  Photos and short movies of the kidnapped woman would live on hard drives in naked and pornographic infamy for many decades to come. 

Jamie had been turned out, even though it took a little while for everything to sink in. 

Jamie’s husband divorced her within six months of her return – apparently she couldn’t stand being touched by a man anymore.  Also, it seemed that he blamed her for everything that had happened to her; what a bastard!  She never returned to her own show and the man that kidnapped her was pretty sure she never went back to work on another television show either. 

She was like someone who been asleep for months or years, and then awakened to find the whole world had changed. 

Served her right for being such a slut.