by Paul Blades
The soft appendage was beginning to fill with blood. It was getting warmer in her mouth. She kept suckling it until it had lost its softness and became rubbery. He moved again, just slightly, and issued a small moan. She stopped. When it was clear that he had not awoken, she resumed.
Her hands were no longer needed to hold it still. She moved them away, careful not to let the chain drag across the man’s body. She placed the heels of her hands on his belly. He groaned. His cock had grown to stiffness now. What had commenced as a dreadful chore had become exciting. Just the thought of his manhood hard and ready was enough to make her feel that urge way down below. She issued a moan of her own, lowered her head as far as it would go, until his cock was pressing against the back of her throat, and then, keeping her mouth clamped tightly against the shaft, drew her head back up slowly and steadily, relishing every millimeter as it passed along her lips.
Jack was struggling to consciousness. He felt a wonderful sensation in his loins. His body was shimmering with delight. It took him a few moments to realize what was happening. And then he felt the girl’s tongue trace a line under the engorged helmet to his prick and then subsume it again in her mouth.
The thought flitted across his mind that he should be angry that the girl had taken it upon herself to presume to make contact with him, especially of such an intimate nature, but the warm softness of her mouth quickly dispelled any notion that he should cause her to stop. Skillfully, she swirled her tongue around the head of his crank. She kissed its tip, running her tongue over the little slit and then let her mouth descend yet again, causing a river of pleasure to flow through him.
The cautious, reptile part of his brain wondered why the girl had taken this task upon herself. The reason became clear to him in a moment. She had heard the talk downstairs about selling her off and she was making her bid to get him to keep her. She was smart all right. It was precisely the right thing to do.
He let his musings fade as the girl maintained a steady churning at his loins. He rubbed his hand in her short, burnt orange hair. He closed his eyes and let the pleasure flow through him.
Carly had realized that he was awake when she felt his hand on her head. At first, she had steeled herself for the blow she half expected, but when it did not come, she relaxed and went on with her work. Sucking his cock put her in a kind of a daze, her mind swimming with contrary emotions. There was no getting around the fact that having his hard meat in her mouth was exciting and lust inducing. But there was also that familiar feeling of shame that she had been reduced to a mere mechanism to giving the man pleasure. And now she had taken it upon herself to do it rather than opening her mouth and receiving his maleness under threat of cruel, painful correction if she did not.
His hips began to rise to meet her lips as they descended down his tool. His hand gripped her hair. His breathing was becoming labored and shallow. His legs spread wide and he drew back his heels. He moaned deeply. His cock was rock hard. She washed it with her tongue, suckled it, stroked it with her lips, tickled its tip. She did everything she could think of to maximize his pleasure. When she sensed him about to commence his climax, she eased off a bit, letting him cool before started again. She did it once, twice, three times. Each time she relented her efforts, he groaned and his hips shifted.
And then his upward thrusts became more insistent. His grip on her hair grew tighter. Her heart was beating wildly. She knew that the moment of his eruption was at hand. She lifted her head from his prick and swiftly moved her hands so that they were below her chin and cupped his large, tight balls. She took his manhood back into her mouth and began to move her head up and down rapidly. He groaned loudly, once, and then again. Then he shouted out a roaring grunt and his cock began to throb and spasm in her mouth. His jism came spurting out, coating the back of her mouth. She swallowed it readily and continued her assault on his prick, giving his scrotal sac gentle encouragement with her hands.
“Arrrrrrrrgh! Arrrrrrrrgh!” he called out. He pushed her head down until his cock popped into her throat. His body stiffened. She began to gag and cough, but she held her head still, did not resist.
As his spasms ebbed, his grip on her hair loosened. She was able to draw her head up and she took in a deep breath. She continued to slide her lips up and down his stem as the rigid pole gave off a series of post orgasmic shudders.
His cock was softening when she felt him pull on her hair. She followed the pressure on her scalp, releasing his now limp manhood from her mouth and slid her body upwards over his. He kept pulling her until she was lying next to him, their heads level. He took hold of her chin and placed his lips upon hers, kissing her deeply. She was filled with a strange satisfaction that she had brought him so much pleasure. He stroked his hand down her body, caressing her breasts lazily and running it across her belly and over her hip. He broke their kiss and caressed her face, looking deeply into her eyes. She looked back at him, hoping desperately that he would see the humanity within.
She was special, that was for sure, Jack thought. She was a treasure worth keeping. As his head cleared, he chided himself for falling asleep without securing her. One slip was all it would take for her to be gone. He didn’t want to take that chance.
He gave her another, small kiss and got up from the bed. He stepped over to the dresser and retrieved the key to the chain that led to her wrists. Back on the bed, he released her wrists from the chain and, after kissing her again, pushed her over to her belly. He pulled her arms behind her back and connected them. Then he affixed the chain to the front of her collar and pulled it taut, securing it in place. He slid his hands down her rear and thighs until he reached her ankles, which he joined. There was a chain identical to the one from the headboard at the foot of the bed and he connected it to her ankles and drew it taut. He got up from the bed and went to the bathroom where he emptied himself. His cock felt soft and satisfied.
He turned out the light before he went back to the bed. It was completely dark without the bathroom light and he had to feel his way. He was about to lie down when he remembered something. He fished around by the side of the bed on the floor and he recovered what he was looking for. He moved back to the girl and took hold of her hair, bending her neck back. He then felt with one hand for her mouth and, with the other, guided the prong of her gag to the opening. She gave a muffled whine when it sank home. He buckled it tightly behind her head.
Laying down bedside her, he stroked her rear and the back of her thighs. “What a treasure,” he thought. He then rolled over and in a few minutes was fast asleep.
Carly had been dreadfully unhappy when the man began to bind her. For a short while, she had had relative freedom. Having her hands immobilized behind her felt horridly familiar. When he pressed the gag between her lips, she felt despair flow through her once again and she began to cry silently. “It’s okay,” she thought after a while. “I did what I had to do.” She felt sure that the pleasure she had brought the man had done its work. She had seen it in his eyes. He wanted her badly. And she wanted him to want her badly. Soon, she soothed herself and let the darkness take her.
Sometime later in the night, she felt her ankles being freed. The man’s strong hands maneuvered her onto her knees, her forehead down on the mattress, and spread her legs. His hand toyed with her sex until she was wet and hot. When he slipped himself inside her, she groaned with pleasure.
Just last night, a mere twenty four hours ago, she had been filled with anguish as he forced her to pleasure again. Now, it was different. The very act which had driven her to despair the night before was now welcomed as a sign of his fevered desire for her. And as long as he desired her that way, there was hope.
She let the waves of pleasure from his fat, thick cock flow through her and she began to thrust back at him madly. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” she thought. “Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jack awoke late. Only a slight sparkle of light filtered into the room through the slim spaces betwe
en the boards that covered the windows. It made the room glow dimly. The thin shafts of light were filled with little motes of dust making them look like tiny spotlights. He awoke, like he had for most of the last twelve years, with a start, but he was quickly calmed when he realized that for today at least he was not on the run. He was among friends in a hideaway that the cops had been looking for for years but never found.
Today was the beginning of a new life. Hopefully, by tomorrow he would be in Mexico. Hopefully, the amigo that the Rogues did business with would have a spot for him. Hopefully, the girl would be with him and he could look forward to countless days awakening with her bound and gagged by his side.
She was still asleep. He thought of waking her and tearing off a piece before he went downstairs and had breakfast, but he decided to let it slide. Not that he didn’t want to fuck her, but, for the first time, there didn’t seem to be the urgency about it that it had. He would get to fuck her plenty of times with any luck.
Carly, that was her name. He wondered idly whether he should maybe get it tattooed on her chest in large, ornate, blue letters so he wouldn’t forget it again. He could get one of the Mexican artists to do it and set in amidst a fancy, elaborate drawing of choppers and weapons and naked, big breasted women and various other totems of his life. He could make it colorful and interesting and he would show her off to his many visitors. Maybe cover her whole body. Then it would make sense to keep her naked all the time so that she could be properly displayed. But no one else would fuck her. That would be for him and him alone. Sure, it might be fun to watch her do a lesbo thing with some Mexican slut from time to time. And special guests might get treated to a blow job now and then. But no cock other than his would ever penetrate any of her lower orifices. That was for sure. They would be reserved for him and him alone.
He crept off of the bed. He had a little headache from all the booze he had consumed and his mouth tasted like a dry gulch. He felt a little skeevy too and needed a shower. That would help with the hangover a little as would a nice big breakfast.
It was going to be a great day, he just knew it.
He remembered that all of his clean clothes were still in the car. That and the rest of his gear, the guns he had stolen, the cash. He didn’t worry about anybody stealing it. It was more than just honor among thieves. Anybody ripping off another gang member would reap a whole world of shit. And stuff like that just had a tendency to get out. Besides, he was Ike’s guest and anything that was stolen from him while he had that status Ike would be honor bound to make up to him.
So, he decided to wait for the shower. He padded barefoot into the bathroom and emptied his bladder. He flicked on the light and took a look at himself in the mirror. He needed a shave. If he wasn’t mistaken, some of the worry lines on his face were gone. Prison had a way of aging you before your time and he had begun to look a lot older than his 44 years. But there wasn’t an ounce of flab on him and he was sure that with a little sun and rest and recreation, he would regain at least a little of his youth in no time.
He went back into the bedroom and dressed quietly. He would get some breakfast and then get his stuff from the car. Just before he left, he saw the keys to the girl’s bonds on the dresser. He had put them back there last night after he had chained her up for the night. He realized that he must have had quite a load on to forget to put them somewhere that they would be way out of the girl’s reach. He decided to put them in his pocket. There was little chance the girl could get to them they way she was bound and all, but there was no sense in taking chances.
Stepping from the room, he closed the door softly behind him. He walked the short distance to the stairs that led downstairs and began to descend them. He was surprised at the activity and wondered what time it was. Two of the girls who lived in the cages in the playroom, one of the black haired ones and the blonde, were busily cleaning up from the night before. Naked still, their legs hobbled by 18” long chains, they were shuffling along, picking up empty bottles, glasses, paper plates. The one they called Rocker was sitting in one of the easy chairs supervising them. Two large, dark green plastic garbage cans sat by the entrance to the foyer full of bottles. The woman he had kidnapped yesterday, the elegant and rich Malinda Ramirez, was ensconced naked and gagged in one of the cages, looking out gloomily.
Jack gave Rocker a nod and turned to go into the kitchen. Stitch was there, in the same place as the night before, like he had never moved. The third girl was standing by the kitchen sink, her feet connected by a short steel chain, washing the serving trays from the night before. Stitch was drinking a mug of coffee.
“Mornin’ partner,” he said when he saw Jack. “There’s coffee in the pot. Maureen here will whip up some bacon and eggs for you if you want them.”
“Sounds good to me,” Jack replied.
“Hey, slut,” Stitch barked, “you heard the man. Get to it.”
“Yes, sir,” the dark haired girl replied sadly. She put down the tray she was washing and shuffled over to the refrigerator. She opened it and retrieved a carton of eggs and a package of bacon.
“Three eggs, over easy,” Jack told her. “And don’t break the yolks. And half a dozen strips of bacon and some toast.” He turned to Stitch. “You got bread, don’t ya?”
“Sure,” Stitch replied. “Anything you want.”
Jack went over to the stainless steel coffee maker. From the cabinet above it he retrieved a cup. He poured some coffee. It smelled strong. There was a carton of milk on the table. He sat down and poured some into his cup. He took the first sip and sighed. It was a thousand times better than the sewer water they served in the joint. When you could get it, that is.
He watched the girl toss some bacon in a big frying pan. A second or two later, it started to sizzle.
“I’m going to miss this one,” Stitch said, nodding his head at the girl. “She’s a pretty good cook. She and the other two are moving on tonight. There’ll be new ones in in a couple of days, and I’ll have to break one of them in all over again. It’s a pain in the ass, but these ones have been here for about five months now and Ike’s gotten tired of them.”
Jack kept his eyes on the girl, gauging her reaction to the news that she was going to be sold off into sexual slavery that night. Tears were running down her face and she was shaking. But she kept up at her job, demonstrating the good discipline the gang had instilled in her.
He and Stitch sat there silently while the girl cooked Jack’s breakfast. When she was done, she delivered the plates to the table along with a set of utensils. She brushed up her arm against Jack’s as she set the plates down in front of him. He reached around her and ran his hand down her bare back and over her ass. The girl froze in place. “Spread your legs,” he told her.
When she had moved them apart, he slid his hand along the inside of her soft, white thigh up to her crux and then ran his fingers over her mons tantalizingly until she had moistened and he was able to slip two fingers inside her. She gave out a deep breath as he entered her and she swayed in place. Jack was watching her face and he could see the turmoil building up inside her. “Maybe I can get her and the girl to do a threesome,” he thought idly. He would enjoy the opportunity to watch the girl’s face as this one ate her pussy. When he did it, he couldn’t see it. He kept running his fingers in and out of the black haired girl’s crevasse until she released a long sigh. Then he laughed, patted her on the ass and turned his attention to his meal.
The girl went back to her chores.
The meal went down quickly. When he was done, he told the girl to clear his plate and refill his coffee cup. She approached him warily. Jack was tempted to put his hands on her again, but he let her alone.
When he had finished his second cup of coffee, he announced his intention to go out to the car and get his gear. Stitch told him that Ike had had a couple of the boys bring it in last night. “The dough and the pieces you had Ike put away for safe keeping. The rest of the stuff is in the foyer by the front door,”
he said.
Jack was a little piqued that somebody had touched his stuff, but he knew that he didn’t dare make a fuss about it. Hell, when it came right down to it, they could take it all as long as he and the girl got a ticket to Mexico tonight.
“Ike had the Lexus taken care of,” Stitch continued. “We got some guys who’ll run it across the border and unload it. It’s better to take care of that kind of stuff right away. The cops’ll be combing the countryside for it soon, if they’re not already. Ike’ll make sure you get your cut, don’t worry about that, but we probably won’t get more than fifty cents on the dollar for it.”
That sounded okay to Jack and he said so.
“He’ll be back in a little while. He said he wants to talk to you. He’s got some plans for the Ramirez broad he wants to work out with you. And the other one too. He thinks our Mexican friend will go for her in a big way and if you sell her to him it’ll put you in right with him.”
At this, Jack blanched. He knew that Stitch was right, but he would do all he could to prevent it. If the Mexican guy wanted, he could get a hundred girls like her. Somehow, he would work it out.
Jack finished his coffee and gave the empty cup to the black haired girl to deal with. He excused himself from Stitch and went out to the foyer to retrieve his bags. A few seconds later, he was trudging back up the stairs to his room.
When Carly heard the steps outside the door, she knew that her captor had returned. She had awoken about 40 minutes or so before, just as the man had closed the door to go downstairs. When she had been startled into wakefulness, it had taken her a few moments to recollect where she was. It all came home to her in a moment as she experienced the dismal reality that she had begun another day of captivity. She remembered from the night before how close she had been to finding a way to escape and a deadly dreariness enveloped her.
