by Paul Blades
When they had all gotten busted and locked up with no bail, the local rival gang had swept all their girlfriends up one night and sold them en masse to an operator out of Kansas City.
The girl was squirming, hoping, no doubt that he would release her. She was issuing muted whines from behind her gag. He hated to reward behavior like that, but he had to get her out and get her dressed so they could be ready to go. He decided that he would teach her a lesson first. He went out into the main room and returned with the switch he had cut from a branch the other day. The girl was still making little mewing sounds. He looked for the most available target. Her feet were in the air exposed and vulnerable. This would hurt like hell, he thought.
He reared the switch back and brought it down fiercely across the soles of her feet. She stiffened and screeched at the top of her lungs. He struck them two more times hard, creating thin lines of angry red across the bottoms of her feet. She screeched wretchedly at each one and began to sob.
“If you don’t shut up,” he told her harshly, “I’ll give you three more.”
She heard him. She took a deep breath. Her wails subsided down to a little hissing sound, like air escaping from a balloon. She exhaled and took another deep breath, and then, holding her breath, silenced herself. Her body was shaking and her bound hands were closed into little tight fists. He waited about 30 seconds just to make sure she would obey him. She released her breath and began to breathe almost normally. There was still a light, piteous tone coming out of her mouth, but it was low enough that he let it go. The point had been made.
He brought the switch back into the other room. When he returned, the girl was silent and still. Now, that was better.
He decided to pack the car before he untied her, so he closed the door to the bathroom again and began the process of carrying out all their shit. He made four or five peanut butter sandwiches and stored them in easy reach from the driver’s seat. There were still some munchies left and some soda and he put them there as well. He tossed out all the rest of the leftover food, cleaning out the refrigerator. The Jim Beam bottle was empty and he made a promise to himself to get another before the day was out. When he was satisfied he had done all he could, except for the clothes the girl would wear, he went back into the bathroom to free her.
She was as motionless and silent as a statue. He loosened her bonds, all except the joinder of her wrist bracelets, took hold of her hair and guided her up to her feet. Holding onto her upper arm, he helped her step out of the tub. She was shaking. He could feel the tremor in her muscle. That was okay. He needed her fear of him to be rabid if things were going to work out today. Her beating had served as a little refresher of what cruelty he was capable of.
Once he had her back in the main room, he had her step into the short denim skirt she had been wearing the other day and, when it was around her hips, zippered it up. He released her arms and had her put on one of the t-shirts he had lifted from the army-navy store back in Wisconsin. It was lavender with yellow flowers across the front and was cut low so that her pleasing cleavage was well displayed. Taking one of the longer lengths of ropes, he wound it around her waist several times and made a cinch knot on both sides near her hips. He left enough of the ends of the rope there at the knots so that he was able to fasten her wrists in place. He triple knotted them to make sure they did not become loose. He brought over her sandals and strapped them onto her feet. Lastly, he removed her blindfold and gag.
She was ready to go. He went over to the window and confirmed that the plow had not yet arrived. He looked at the clock. It was just past 7:30. He realized that there was nothing he could do about it but wait and so he poured himself another cup of coffee and cleaned the pot. Before sitting down in his chair, he took the front of the girl’s skirt and tucked it into the rope around her waist and made her spread her legs. Then he raised the hem of her tight fitting t-shirt until it was up over her breasts. He sat down in the chair and lit a smoke.
He watched her silently as he waited. All of her good parts were showing. Her hands turned and twisted slightly as she gingerly tested the ropes around her waist. On her face was an appropriately dismal expression and her eyes were pointed down so that she would not have to look him in the face. She was still shaking a little bit and it made her breasts shimmer. Her hairless pussy was stark and inviting. He was going to miss her, that was for sure.
Carly was trying desperately to control the tremoring of her body. She didn’t want to show the man fear, but she couldn’t help it. She was hyperconscious of her exposed breasts and sex. What she had become inured to when she was nude seemed humiliating and shameful when she was dressed. Other than the sounds he made as he took sips of his coffee or exhaled the cigarette smoke, the room was absolutely silent. She tried to keep his massive form out of her vision, but it was impossible to ignore him, just as it was impossible to avoid his fiery eyes as they slowly scanned her revealed sexual flesh.
The waiting for something to happen, for the next stage of her ordeal to begin was excruciating. She almost wished that he would do something to her to break the horrid tension she was feeling. She had watched him put the gag and blindfold away in the sole paper bag he had left to take out at the last minute. She yearned for him to reinstall them, as horrid as they were. She wanted to be as isolated from the man as she could. Every time her eyes concentrated on him, and they kept fitting back onto him, she couldn’t help it, her stomach would turn sour and her heart beat just a little harder. It was like he had devised a new, hideous torture for her.
In a minute, ten, fifteen, maybe a half hour, they were going to leave the cabin. Her body ran cold as she thought of what awaited her out there. But the waiting seemed worse than the reality could ever be. She yearned to hear the sound of steel scraping the macadam signifying the arrival of the plow. “Please! Please! Please!” she thought. “Just get it over with! Please!”
She realized that this was just one more way the man was driving home to her her status as his slave. She was not permitted to do anything that would expose any human aspect to him. She was just a thing. Things don’t whine and complain. Even a dog had that right, but she didn’t. She realized that beyond the pleasure it brought the man to humiliate her, it was also so that it would be easier to kill her when the time came. It would be as easy as turning off a light. A fierce chill went through her and she suppressed a sob.
From time to time, Jack peered out the window between the closed slats of the blinds. The damn plow was taking its own sweet time in getting there. It was 3 minutes to 8. He had been sitting there, waiting, for about a half an hour. Watching the girl was amusing, but he was as edgy as a rattlesnake and he wanted to get going. He had finished his coffee long ago and his 3rd cigarette.
He looked back at the girl. His cock gave a little twinge at the sight of her bare, exposed pussy. Well, if he had to wait, he might as well spend it pleasurably, he thought.
He stood up from the table. The girl flinched. He took her by the hair at the back of her head and brought her over to the table until the front of her thighs were up against it. He pushed her head down until her bare breasts were squashed under her onto the table. Then he told her to spread her legs. He lifted the back of her skirt.
Carly felt the man’s devilish hand stroke her sex. It made her shudder. He was such a hard, cruel man, but his touch was so light that it almost felt like a butterfly was beating its wings against her intimate flesh as his fingers flitted over her exposed labial lips. Her mind filled with distress even as the wry warning that her mother use to give her all the time slipped through her mind: be careful what you wish for.
She had been wishing for something to break the awful terror of her waiting. The seconds and minutes had been dragging on so slow that she felt like she had been standing before the man so brazenly displayed for an eternity. And it had been an eternity spent subsumed in a fear so intense that it had made bile rise to her throat. It was like when she was a child and waiting for the licki
ng that her father had promised her, only much, much worse.
Time and space were distorted. A vibrating intensity went through everything. Her stomach seemed bottomless and empty. She had to resist with all her being the impulse to throw herself to the floor and beg the man for mercy, an event that would have only precipitated the thing that she feared the most, the initiation of his angry violence upon her.
It seemed impossible that she should be there, bound, helpless, utterly powerless, awaiting her doom. It had been like when he was going to shoot her the other day. What was happening seemed incredible, like something that was happening to someone else and yet her sense of the reality of everything around her was all too vivid.
She had tried to close her eyes, to block him out, but he had ordered her curtly to reopen them. If she were to have darkness it would be when it suited him, not her. She didn’t know where to put them. Everywhere she looked was some reminder of something dreadful, the chair on which he had bound her for so long yesterday, blind and deaf, tied grotesquely and on which he had beaten her, the bed on which he had fucked her so many times, the pipe to which he had tied her, the floor on which she had been forced to place her head obsequiously as a supplicant to a god.
There was the door through which she desired so fiercely to flee. There was the window which looked out on a world that was indifferent to her fate. There, in the corner was the switch he had used to whip her and in the crumpled supermarket bag on the floor near the door were the gag and blindfold and chains and ropes with which he had tormented her body.
And then there was him. Whenever her eyes nervously slipped over him, her heart would fill with dread as she saw him so patiently, so frankly, appraising her intimate features like a beast examining its meat. She would have done anything to escape his evil gaze.
But now that she was pressed down, bent over against the table, its lip pressed hard against her thighs, she immediately began to rue her wish for something to break the tension between them, for now she would once again, she knew it as much as she knew anything, abandon herself to the shameful depravity that he would force upon her.
Jack took a finger and drifted it along the girl’s labial divide. She responded with a deep intake of breath and the weakening of her knees. He drew it up and down, up and down, just touching her flesh ever so lightly. He teased the nubbin at the top of her sex by flicking the end of his finger across it gently. Her crevasse moistened obediently. He stroked her pudenda lightly several times and then slipped two fingers along her crevasse, pushing them more deeply between her outer lips again and again until he could ease them into her soft, oozing hole. When he plunged them to their depth, the girl’s torso squirmed and she moaned.
In a few swift movements he slipped his rigid member from his pants and began to stroke her pussy with it, up and down, up and down until it had become slippery with her fluids. Then he probed her sex until the head sat just inside the entrance to her cavern and slowly, slowly, slowly, slowly, sunk it in.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhh!” Carly moaned softly as she felt his thick rod traverse her inner self. The slow, inching along of the man’s member was excruciating, prolonging her dreadful unhappiness at being penetrated once more. “Oh, please don’t do this! Please! Please! Please! Please!” she prayed unhappily. She said nothing of course, uttered not one word or sound of protest, moved nary a muscle in refusal. She knew that nothing short of a meteor crashing through the roof of the little cabin would deter the man from his intent.
He moved back and forth ever so slowly. It was like he was not really fucking her as much as occupying her to pass the time. He kept one hand firmly on the middle of her back, pressing her torso down hard, while the other one drifted lazily up and down her thighs, over her buttocks, along the small of her back. Her skin celebrated everywhere it went in crass rebellion to her wants. And the cock kept moving, slowly, slowly, slowly, emphasizing each second of its occupation.
Her velvety tube welcomed him and her lusts were growing. She tried to fight it, but her mind soon sunk into a trance-like state. The whole universe was standing still except for the hot, steely presence inside her. She moaned again. And again. Her hands lay limp at her sides, affixed to her hips. She could feel the slackness of her face. Her eyes were closed, her breath drawn out and deep.
Her body quivered as her orgasm approached. Some part deep down inside her protested, but the rest of her opened up to it, needed it, wanted it. When it came, her mind went into a fugue and her physical self celebrated with a languorous joy. Her pussy gave her four, five, six and more pulses of pleasure, one flowing into the next as it issued firm, leisurely throbs and contractions around the man’s meat.
She entered a torporous phase. Her body was limp. Her toes were touching the floor, but gave her no support. It felt like she was going to melt right there on the table, a delivery into oblivion she would have welcomed.
Jack was reveling in the soft hotness around him. His cock was sending him a steady flow of mellow delight. There is nothing like a pussy, he thought. He felt and sensed her orgasm. Her pussy’s contractions sent currents of thrill all through him. He kept going. He could do this all day. He felt like he was at the center of the world. “This is what paradise must feel like,” he thought. He was so glad that he had kept the girl. It was a moment of such incredible bliss that he knew that he would remember it forever.
The girl orgasmed again. And then again. The last time her intensity had begun to grow. And now she was beginning to squirm and groan beneath him. She was issuing little whines. He heard a rumble out there in the world. Without missing a beat, he slipped his fingers between the blinds and saw the plow beginning to push across the parking lot. It was time to get going.
He increased the pace of his motions. He wasn’t going to hurry himself. He would come when he was good and ready, when his need had become so intent that he would be near exploding. He began to build himself there. His thrusts became harder and shorter. He pressed down harder on the girl’s back. Her whining was becoming louder. Her hands began to wriggle at her sides. Her thighs pressed back hard on his. He could feel the train inside him building speed. It was coming faster and harder. His brain seemed to short out. His balls tightened. He was holding it back, holding it back, holding it back, and then it came.
“Arrrrrrrrgh! Arrrrrrrrrrgh! Arrrrrrrrrrrgh!” he groaned. The table was shuddering up against the wall, the girl was moaning loud in rapid, short bursts. His fluids jetted from his cock in fierce spasms. The girl’s pussy was throbbing hard against him gripping him tightly. “Ohhhhhhhhhh! Yes! Yes! Yes!” he thought. “Yes!”
Carly was embroiled in a body and mind wrenching climax. All thoughts of resistance were long ago gone. All of it, everything that had happened, everything he had done to her, all seemed worth it as her very soul rejoiced. “Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” was all she could think. A river of ecstasy was flowing through her, a river that knew no bounds, had no end, no beginning. She tried to bring her thighs together to better grip the cock that was driving her raging lusts, but his thighs were in the way. She felt him tense against her, heard his almost anguished groans, felt his cock come alive inside her. Her pussy erupted in fiercely intensive jolts. They made her whole body cringe again and again as they arrived in relentless, rapid succession. “Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!” she called out. And then a long, anguished one, “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
She didn’t know when she stopped coming. The man continued his motions even though she knew he was spent. Her pussy delivered a series of slowly diminishing aftershocks. When they had vanished away, she took a deep breath and her whole body softened.
A moment later, he was outside her. She heard him zip up and then felt him grasp the hair at the back of her head and lift her up from the table. She could barely stand. He stabilized her and lowered her t-shirt, covering her breasts and rolled her skirt free of the rope in the front and let it hang down.
It all happened so quick. She was in a delirious d
aze. He put her overcoat on her and zippered it up the front, concealing her bound hands, stuffing the empty arms into her pockets. He took the little, blue rubber ball from the paper bag and pushed it rudely into her mouth. She was free for a moment as he put on his jacket and then she felt a tug on her arm.
The door to her prison opened. She was outside. The brightness blinded her. It was a few short steps to the car. He opened her door and pressed her down into the passenger seat. He put the bag on the driver’s seat and removed two of the short ropes. He spread her legs and tied off her ankles to the frame under the seat. He took another one and fastened the back of her collar to the head rest. He crossed her torso with the seat belt and clicked it locked beside her.
She had just begun to realize where she was, what was happening, and start to look around when he slipped the blindfold over her eyes. He opened the glove compartment and she heard him take something out. A second later he put a pair of glasses on her face. Sunglasses. They had to be sunglasses. “Oh my god! We’re leaving! We’re leaving! Oh god! Oh god! Oh god!” she thought desperately.
Utter blackness surrounded her. The car door slammed. She heard a man’s voice. It was a distance away. Not the man’s, someone else.
“You have a good trip now,” it said happily.
Then the man’s voice. “Yeah, thanks for everything.”
The driver’s door opened and shut. He was sitting next to her, less than a foot away. She strained at her bonds. She twisted and turned her neck. “No! No! Help me! Help me!” she thought desperately. “Can’t you see? Can’t you see? Help! Help!” A forlorn whine escaped her gagged mouth.
