Imprisoned [story]

I've played enough times with you now to trust you. You know my limits, you've proved to me that you respect them. I feel safe with you. The scene we had today was incredible…I'm lying in your arms, floating, kissing your face, telling you how wonderful you are, and all the while regretting that I will have to get up soon and leave this cocoon of fun and contentment and joy.

I shake my head, trying to re-focus, and I sit up against your chest. You put your arms around me and hold me close to you. I rest my head, relaxed, on your shoulder, then begin to pull away. You tighten your grip. I look up at you and motion towards my arms still cuffed behind my back. We haven't yet got around to taking them off, too sweat-soaked and exhausted to move.

You smile at me, and do nothing. I sit up straighter. “Can you?”, I ask, gesturing again. Once more you smile at me, not quite your normal expression, and a hint of something cold buries itself in my stomach. I feel my pupils dilating. “I have to go now, stop fucking about and get these cuffs off me”. Fear fuels my temper, as always.

“No”, you say gently, but with a hint of rough. “No”. Your voice is still very calm. “I'd like a few days with you, just a few days to play with you without any limits at all, so I can teach you how to behave. I think that would be good for you”.

I'm really frightened now, and dozens of thoughts scamper through my head. My husband knows I'm here, he knows where you live, he will come for me. But will he? What if you tell him I left, text him from my phone to tell him I left here safely, and you pretend to be worried about me? I don't fully believe that he would come here to check, just in case.

I pull away…start to rise…I'm kneeling, but you knock me off my feet. I fall forward, and I feel you putting my ankles into cuffs. I'm screaming now, kicking…someone will hear me…there are other people in the house, we're in the basement, but we're right next to the street. Someone will notice, surely?

“Oh, this is something I've been wanting to do for a while, so I had the basement soundproofed”, you say, still in that calm voice. It's like you're a stranger, I can't believe you're fucking doing this to me. I'm kicking and writhing but you're just so much stronger than me and you easily cuff my ankles to a spreader bar, and then there's nothing I can do but shout for help, pointlessly.

“You fucking bastard. I trusted you, how can you do this to me?” You answer by pushing a ring gag into my mouth. My face is transfigured with rage, but you smile and tell me I'm pretty. Only my eyes can express my furious anger, my pure and burning rage clearing a path through all the other conflicting emotions, like a forest fire, destroying everything in its way.

You're standing now, and your hands are in my hair, holding my face at the level of your crotch. I'm squirming, trying to get away, but can barely move I'm so heavily restrained. “You cock-teasing little bitch. How did you think this would end? My self control is not limitless. It's time you forgot your own limits and concentrated on pleasing me, you slut. For the next three days you'll be MY Minx, and you'll have no control. I'll do whatever the fuck I want with you”.

You can barely push your swollen cock through the ring gag. I try and keep you out of my mouth by turning my head away but it's impossible…you grab the back of my head with both hands and thrust. Once you've pushed yourself inside the confines of the gag in my mouth, you force me to suck you. Tears and saliva pour down my face in equal measure.

You thrust deeper now, and I'm gagging on your cock, too tense and rigid to relax my throat and make it easier for myself. “You bitch, you fucking bitch, you slutty little whore. You're mine now, my Minx, my slut”. You punctuate each word with a thrust. As you speak, I am humiliated and utterly shamed…your words make me come…at the same time as you pour your hot spunk into me I orgasm…I have no choice but to swallow your come down, sucking you dry.

You pull out, then backhand me in the face, knocking me to the floor amid the black satin quilts. “I'll be back soon, my Minx, for your next lesson”. My mind shudders, my body convulses.

___________________________________________________ ___________

The lights go out. I wait in darkness for what must be a day, although I've no way of knowing. My internal clock suggests at least twelve hours have passed.

The door opens. Lights come on. I hear your footsteps. Desperate, I resolve to co-operate if it means I can just move my cramped arms, my rigid mouth, still gagged and cuffed. A chance to escape might come sooner if I appear calm.

You take the cuffs off, and remove the gag. I've never felt such physical relief. I read tension in your body – you're alert for my every movement. You rub my wrists, shoulders, ankles…I'm so wracked with pain and cramp and numbness I couldn't move even if I was in front of an open door.

You help me use the crude toilet facilities you've set up, and feed me from your own hand. I'm tempted to bite, but can't bear to be gagged again, and I'm still weak from shock and pain. You lift me, using bondage tape to tie my ankles to the spreader chair, and clip my wrist cuffs to the frame. The look in your eye is serious…not teasing now. We've done this once before in play, and you knew I wanted you desperately, but couldn't have you. This time is very different. This time, all the power is yours, there is no holding back.

I'm surprised when you begin to gently wash me clean, rather than fucking me immediately. You do it lovingly, kindly, and I wonder at how someone who appears so monstrous can have such gentleness in him. Once you've washed me clean, you stand in front of me, leaning forward; your hands on my arms, your legs spread slightly, savouring the moment.

I'm too tired and beaten now for anger, tears of pain and misery instead are coating my face. You wipe them away with the palm of your hand. “Please Master D, please let me go”. I've never called you that before. Your cock swells even more in response to my voice. “I won't tell anyone. Please don't hurt me any more. I'm sorry. I'm sorry”.

You laugh, a sound of real happiness, as you lift your crop to my breasts for the first blow. You thrash me thoroughly, precisely, my inner thighs turn red, then bruise, then eventually the skin rips and starts to bleed. The blood excites you, it's sticky and warm. Your already huge cock becomes even more swollen. Your face changes, hardens, as you guide yourself between the lips of my pussy, which despite myself, welcomes you. You feel the head of your cock gripped, as you push inside. Then you thrust in deeply, all the way, up to the balls in me. You pull out slowly, almost to the tip. You angle upwards, hitting my g-spot. I struggle, resist, try not to come but you force it out of me, going over the same spot over and over again. You're working me, playing that sensitive part, and you lean in and whisper, “Come for me, I want you to come for me while I'm fucking you, my little Minx”. I can't, I won't, I don't want to…but I do…an orgasm that sweeps my whole body, a grinding, thunderous pulse; I hear white noise, it covers the sound of me crying out.

You're smiling cruelly. You continue pounding into me…I drink your cock down with my pussy. I cry for you. You're hitting my cervix and with every thrust it hurts, my muscles are screaming, the tape is cutting into my ankles. Each time you push inside me it hurts me, numerous sharp pains on my body, the deeper you thrust the more it hurts me. And the pain increases when you pull out, lift my buttocks, and thrust your cock into my ass.

I give little whimpers and moans of pain each time you grind your hips against mine. You sink your teeth into my throat, ripping the flesh. Blood runs trickling over my nipples. I start to shake…I am suddenly terribly afraid. My eyes widen, my body stiffens. You come, come inside me, forcing and pushing and shoving, forcing yourself even deeper…the last few thrusts cause such intense pain in me I think I'm going to black out.

You gasp for breath, your sweat-soaked body resting on mine. You uncuff me, cutting away the tape with your knife…you pull me down into your arms. “Good girl”, you whisper. “I'm so proud of you”. It's too much for me…I sob into your shoulder, first curled childlike into my mouth. I should hate you, despise you. Why instead do I want to do anything, anything to please you now?

“Because I fucked you like you needed to be fucked, my little naughty Minx”. You answer my unspoken question. I sleep at last…curled up on your chest like a kitten, your arms around me, shaping my word into something altogether more fluid, with space for savage miracles as well as tragedy.