Dark Obsessions - Volume 2: Four Dark, Delicious Capture Fantasies

by Claire Thompson

  “Kelsey, listen to me. I want you to understand something. You did a very bad thing, and you were punished, and now it’s over. You are forgiven. I still love you. There’s nothing you can do that would make me stop loving you.” He waited a beat, half hoping she would respond in kind. She didn’t.

  She didn’t love him.

  Not yet.

  That would come, in time. He understood now that his love alone was not enough to penetrate her sweet but thick head. She needed concrete lessons, and the switching he’d given her was only the beginning. He would break her down, wiping away her ego and her resistance. Only then could he build her up into the woman of his dreams. Only then could he claim her as the love of his life, and he of hers. They had time. All the time in the world.

  “You’re going to stay put while I run the bath, right? You’re not going to try anything stupid again, are you?”

  Slowly she shook her head.

  James nodded. She looked too spent to try another escape, and anyway, he was bigger, stronger and faster. Still, why take chances? “I’m going to set the alarm. If you try to open a window or an outer door, it will trigger the alarm. You don’t want to do that, Kelsey,” he informed her. She didn’t react. She was exhausted, poor thing.

  He stood and stared down at her a moment, examining her ass and thighs. Yes, it had been a thorough whipping, but she’d be fine. The cuts were superficial, though there would probably be some bruising. He shrugged philosophically. Now she would think twice before she tried anything stupid again.

  He set the alarm and then went into the bathroom to fill the tub. He added some bath oil he found in the cabinets and pulled out some towels. When he came back into the bedroom, Kelsey hadn’t appeared to have moved at all.

  He went to the kitchen to check out the provisions. The refrigerator was empty, but in the pantry he found cans of soup, a package of pasta and some spaghetti sauce, along with an unopened package of saltine crackers and a can of Cheez Whiz. He reached for the crackers and cheese. He put these on a serving tray, along with a glass of water, and returned to the bedroom.

  Kelsey had shifted to her side, he was pleased to note. She watched him silently as he entered the room. He set the tray down and approached her. “Can you stand?” he asked solicitously. “I’ll help you to the bathroom.”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Kelsey,” he said sharply. “You will speak when spoken to. I know you don’t want another switching…” He let the sentence hang as he glared at her.

  That got her attention. She struggled into an upright position, wincing as her bottom touched the mattress. “Yes,” she said, so quietly he had to strain to hear her. “I can stand.”

  “Good.” He helped her upright and put an arm around her back for support. “Come into the bathroom and I’ll feed you while you soak in the tub.” He led her to the bathroom and let her pee. When she was done, he pulled the T-shirt over her head and crouched in front of her to remove the soiled bandage. “The wound is healing nicely, in spite of everything,” he informed her with a smile.

  Again she said nothing. Annoyed, James pressed the issue. “That’s good, right?”

  “Yes,” she said in a flat tone.

  James decided that would do for now. He stood and helped her into the tub. She stepped gingerly into the hot water, biting her lip as she lowered herself into it. While she settled in, James opened the saltines and pulled out a handful, setting them in a neat formation on the plate. He shook the Cheez Whiz can and squirted a circle of orange goo onto each cracker. He popped one into his mouth and chewed. It wasn’t half bad.

  He saw that Kelsey was watching him from the tub. “Hungry?” he said, aware she had to be.

  She nodded. He lifted his eyebrows warningly and was pleased when she added, “Yes. And thirsty.”

  James held the glass of cold water to her lips and let her drink. When she’d finished nearly half the glass, he offered her a cracker. “It’s up to you now, Kelsey,” he informed her. “Good girls get to eat and drink. Bad girls go without their supper. Really bad girls get a whipping.”

  Her eyes widened, but she said nothing.

  “Good girls respond when spoken to, as a sign of respect. In fact,” James said, a sudden idea taking hold, “from this minute going forward, every time you address me, every time, Kelsey, you will call me sir, or you’ll be punished. Are we clear on this, young lady?”

  Kelsey pressed her lips together. He watched the cloud of fury pass over her features. She was a feisty one, make no mistake, but he loved that about her. He didn’t want to destroy that spirit, but only to bend it to his will. He waited. He would count to three in his mind. If she didn’t answer by then, and answer properly—

  “Yes, sir,” she said. It sounded as if the words had been forced past clenched teeth, but he liked the sound of them nonetheless.

  “Say it again, Kelsey,” he ordered. “Say it like you mean it.”

  Her green eyes flashed. James tilted his head at his naked captive, waiting.

  “Yes, sir,” she finally repeated.

  James smiled.

  Chapter 10

  Kelsey turned onto her side on the bed, the cold chain clinking as she tucked her hands between her knees. Her wrists were wrapped in leather cuffs that were clipped to long, sturdy lengths of chain, which James had wound around the post of the four-poster bed.

  Her ass and thighs still stung from the beating, and the wound on her calf was itching like crazy, but at least there was some give in the chains. When he’d gone out earlier that morning, he’d cuffed her wrist directly to one of the posts and left her that way, with her arms uncomfortably over her head.

  She could hear him moving about in the kitchen of the small cabin, whistling while he clanked pots and slammed cabinet doors. The smell of fresh brewing coffee and sizzling bacon reached her nostrils, and she realized she was starving, the handful of crackers and cheese he’d given her the day before only a distant memory.

  They’d gone to bed soon after her bath. James had insisted on drying her, and then re-bandaging her leg. He’d even insisted on brushing her teeth, forcing her to place her hands behind her head while he did so. She’d wanted to scream. She’d wanted to hit him. Instead she’d stood there, passive and unresisting, too afraid of him to protest.

  Once in bed, James had wrapped her in a bear hug and pulled her close against his bare chest. Though he had fallen quickly asleep, Kelsey lay awake a long time in his tight embrace, plotting how she might escape. She needed to pretend to play along. She had to stop balking as she had been doing, as hard as that would be. She had to lull him into a false sense of security, enough so he would let his guard down, at least a little. Then she would find something she could use as a weapon. He’d brought the gun with him, after all. Maybe he’d brought the bullets too. There was that pocket knife he’d produced to cut the switch, or she could get hold of a kitchen knife.

  If you’d asked her a week before if she could cut someone with a knife, she would have insisted she could not. Now, however, she knew she could—and would. She would slit the bastard’s throat while he slept, grab his car keys and hightail it the hell out of there.

  She didn’t think she would sleep at all that night, but somehow she had, because she woke to find James standing over her, his hair wet from a shower, a small towel wrapped around his waist. She could see by the pale pink color of the sky outside the window that it was barely dawn.

  He’d let her pee, though he stood there watching like the creep he was, and refused even to let her wipe herself, instead reaching his hand between her legs with a wad of toilet paper. “Though I have forgiven you for trying to kill me,” he informed her as he pulled her to her feet, “you are still in disgrace. It’s up to you how fast you win back basic privileges. You’re going to need to show me that you are repentant and ready to obey me. Is that understood, Kelsey?”

  She’d made the mistake of staring at him, open-mouthed with dismay and disbelief.
That had earned her a slap across the face and a stern reminder. “How do you address me? Let’s try again.” James had glared at her and then repeated, speaking slowly as if to a stupid child, “Is that understood, Kelsey?”

  “Yes, sir,” she’d managed through gritted teeth.

  Now James came into the bedroom carrying an old-fashioned TV tray with its own metal stand. Kelsey had to swallow the saliva pooling in her mouth at the sight of the plate heaped with food, and her empty stomach roiled with anticipation. He sat the tray on its stand beside the bed. There was a mug of steaming coffee, a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon and a bowl of something gray and gloppy.

  “Ready for breakfast?” James asked with a smile.

  I’m ready to fucking kill you. “Yes, please, sir,” Kelsey managed, her taste buds already anticipating the salty crunch of the bacon and the soft, buttery-looking eggs.

  “I’ll remove the chains if you promise to behave. Do you promise?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Using a small key, he unlocked the cuffs and pulled them from her wrists. He put his arms supportively around her as she sat up, and she had to resist the strong urge to elbow him away. Let him think she was weaker than she was.

  He sat beside her and reached for the mug of coffee, which she now saw was black. There was no second mug. He took a sip and set it back down. He picked up a piece of bacon and bit off half of it. He scooped up a forkful of eggs and shoveled it into his mouth. He continued to eat without looking at her. Kelsey’s mouth continued to water as she waited impatiently for him to give her some.

  Finally he looked at her, but instead of offering her bacon and eggs, he picked up the spoon and dipped it into the bowl. He brought a spoonful of thick oatmeal to Kelsey’s lips. Kelsey felt her gorge rise and she pressed her lips together, angling her head away. The spoon followed her, a blob of the warm cereal falling onto her thigh.

  “Open up, Kelsey. I know you’re hungry.”

  She looked back at James, trying to keep the anger she felt from showing on her face as she flicked the offending goo from her leg. He had obviously done this on purpose, the prick. “I don’t like oatmeal.”

  James’s lips lifted in a cruel smile and he shrugged. “Good girls get eggs and bacon. Are you a good girl, Kelsey?”

  She sensed a trap, but her empty stomach propelled her to say, “Yes, sir.”

  James lifted his eyebrows, a skeptical expression on his face. “Good girls do what they’re told, when they’re told. Good girls don’t struggle and resist. Good girls don’t aim guns at people’s heads and pull the trigger.”

  Good boys don’t tie women down and beat them till they bleed. Kelsey pressed her lips together and swallowed hard to keep from screaming.

  “Are you ready to try and be a good girl, Kelsey?”

  She dug her nails into her palms to keep from smashing her fists into his smug face. “Yes, sir.”

  James put down the spoon and reached for the fork. He scooped a mound of scrambled eggs onto it and brought the fork to her lips. But when Kelsey opened her mouth, he pulled the fork away, putting the food into his own mouth instead.

  “Hey,” she blurted, outraged and confused.

  “Is for horses,” James quipped. “Is there a problem, Kelsey?”

  “Yes!” she cried, as he stuffed another piece of bacon into his mouth. “You said I could have some of that if I said I was a good girl. I really hate oatmeal. I want some eggs and bacon. And some coffee. Please? Please, sir?”

  James shook his head. “You didn’t listen. I didn’t say you could have this food just for saying you’re a good girl. You’re going to have to prove you’re a good girl before you earn the right to eat what you like. I’ll give you ample opportunity to redeem yourself, I promise you.” He lifted the spoon again, heaped with a gelatinous blob of gray mush. “Meanwhile, it’s oatmeal or nothing.”

  Tears of fury and frustration burned behind Kelsey’s eyes, but she blinked them away, refusing to give him the satisfaction. The congealed mess on the spoon turned her stomach, but Kelsey knew she had to eat. Closing her eyes, she opened her mouth.

  James tipped the contents of the spoon into her mouth. He hadn’t even bothered to add sugar or cream, and the oatmeal had the consistency of wet cement, but Kelsey forced herself to swallow it. She managed to get down three more spoonfuls before turning her head away.

  “You had enough?” James asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Kelsey said, though she was still starving. If anything, the bit of food made her feel hungrier than before, and her head ached, probably from lack of caffeine. “May I have some coffee, sir?” she said, trying to keep her tone meek and sweet.

  James lifted his mug to his lips and took a long swallow. “No. Only good girls get coffee.” He set the mug on the tray and stood. “Now.” He put his hands on his hips as he stared down at her. “Here’s your first chance to show me what a good girl you’re going to be from now on. It’s time to shave that sweet little cunt of yours. I expect you to cooperate fully during the process. If you please me, you might have something other than oatmeal at lunch time. If not…” he didn’t finish the sentence, but the threat was clear.

  Instinctively Kelsey put her hand protectively over her pubic mound. Adam had wanted her to shave, and she had said she would if he would, which had ended that particular conversation. Obviously James wasn’t asking her opinion on the matter.

  The idea of another person drawing a razor over her private parts, especially a man who had already demonstrated he didn’t mind spilling her blood, made Kelsey shudder with trepidation. On the other hand, if she submitted to this demand she could begin the process of fooling James into thinking she was going along with his insanity. And it wasn’t as if she really had a choice anyway. He would do what he wanted, and she could come along quietly, or kicking and screaming. That was really all the choice left to her.

  When he held out his hand, Kelsey took it, allowing him to pull her upright. She was pleased to see she could put a little more weight on her wounded leg than before, but distressed at how weak she felt overall. Was that part of his devious master plan—to keep her weak and hungry, and thus easier to control?

  The man was a monster, but that monster held her life in his hands.

  For now.

  ~*~

  Sitting at the small desk in the corner of the room, James stroked his cock, silently congratulating himself on keeping the satellite internet service going for the cabin, even though he hadn’t come here all that often. Laptop open, he scrolled through the websites on his chosen topic, astonished to find out just how many there were. “This is a whole lifestyle,” he called out to Kelsey, who lay so prettily across the room on the bed in chains, her bare, naked cunt elevated by the pillows he’d placed beneath her ass, her legs spread wide so he could gaze at the sweet pink labia now so visible between her thighs.

  After he’d shaved her cunt, being oh-so-careful with the razor on her tender nether lips, he’d squirted plenty of baby oil over her sex until it glistened, having seen someone do that on a porn site. He liked the way it looked, all pink and shiny with oil, and so he’d left it that way when he helped her back onto the bed and chained her down.

  His research was going well. He was looking for guidance in this new lifestyle he’d chosen for them, but hadn’t expected to find such a wealth of information. There were literally dozens of websites devoted to offering guidance and support to men and women interested in developing a relationship where the man is fully in charge and the woman knows her place. There were lots of useful, practical tips to create the correct environment, like making sure there was a specific punishment spot where a disobedient wife could contemplate the errors of her ways. James had decided on the bedroom closet. He’d added a sliding bolt to the outside of the door so he could lock Kelsey inside when she misbehaved.

  “Listen to this from this blog.” He read aloud, “I am usually a good wife. I get my share of beatings, but they are always des
erved, and I learn from them and try harder. Obedience is something my husband insists on and I am mostly good at it. Then came the day I decided to blow off the housework and grocery shopping to spend the day at the movies with a girlfriend.

  “When I got home, my husband was waiting with his belt in his hands, a frown on his handsome face. ‘Why are there dishes in the sink?’ he asked in that deep, quiet voice of his.

  “I began to tremble. ‘I—I went to the movies with Susan. I didn’t realize I’d be so late.’

  “’And where is dinner?’ My husband glared at the greasy bag of takeout food I held in my hand. ‘Don’t tell me that’s dinner, after I worked hard all day to make money to take care of you.’

  “I swallowed hard and nodded, a tear rolling down my cheek. My husband pointed to the floor at his feet and I knew what to do. I quickly pulled off my blouse and skirt, glad at least I had on my sexy underwear and matching bra underneath. Since we’ve adopted this lifestyle, I threw out all my cotton undies and only wear silk and lace for my Sir.

  “’All of it,’ he said sternly, waiting while I peeled off my underwear and removed my bra. ‘Punishment position, ass up,’ he ordered.

  “I knelt hurriedly at his feet, my hands stretched out on the cold marble floor of our foyer, ass offered for his belt. He hit me hard, each stroke stinging like crazy as the slapping sound echoed off the walls. I was crying by the time he was done. He let me turn around and kiss his shoes and then he pulled me up into his arms and kissed away the tears.

  “I begged him to let me worship his cock before I went to cook him a proper dinner. He pulled open his pants, pushed me to my knees, and let me suck his beautiful cock and balls. He didn’t allow me to swallow, though, because only good girls get to swallow their Sir’s cum. Instead he spurted on my face and breasts. I had to leave it there to dry while I cooked dinner, and while we ate, as a reminder of my sins.”

  As he read the woman’s testimonial to Kelsey, James’ cock got so hard it started leaking fluid from the tip. He’d had no idea there were so many people actually living this kind of lifestyle. And yes, this was what he wanted—not some Master/slave kink fest with black leather and red walls, but a husband/wife relationship based on man’s natural dominance and woman’s natural submission. A lifetime of behaving politically correctly and mouthing all the right words about women’s rights and liberation had fallen by the wayside the night he’d thrown Kelsey into his car. The real James Bennett had emerged, strong and powerful and ready to take his due.