by Renard, Loki
Siri
He rubs his hand down over the front of his pants suggestively. There’s a bulge there. His hardness is like a threat. I know he could use it against me if he wanted to. He’s so much stronger. I feel it every time he touches me. And yet, he doesn’t take me by force. He just keeps me there on my knees and he makes me stay there as he slides his pants down and pulls his cock out.
God. He has a nice dick. It has a curve to it, not a big one, but enough of one to give me ideas of what it would feel like to have that hot, hard rod inside me, the head of him curling up inside my pussy, finding the tender spot inside me…
I have to stop thinking like this. This is a filthy, crude seduction, and I should be above it. There’s no way I should be responding to him slowly jerking his cock just an inch or so from my face, nearly close enough for me to reach out with my tongue and lick it.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Just look,” he purrs softly. “At what you will earn when you prove yourself.”
Like every man to ever walk the earth, he thinks his dick is god’s gift to women.
“You’re really fucking cocky, you know that?”
He just smiles that sexy smug smile and keeps stroking his cock. “You have a chance right now to show me you’re a good girl and earn a reward.”
I don’t know what any of that really means. Show him I’m a good girl? How? Earn what kind of reward? I can’t help watching him, the motion of his strong hand up and down the shaft of his cock. It’s more arousing than it should be. I can’t help but extrapolate all the things he could do with me and to me, how he would feel inside me, how it would be to give myself to a man like this, an opportunistic asshole who trades women.
He’s evil. There’s no doubting that, and there can be no denying it. We’ve had our fun, and our banter, but I won’t give into this slow, twisted seduction. It’s brilliant though, I’ll give him that. He’s making me want my own degradation. He’s turning me into a willing participant in my own captivity. Stavros pushes me only as far as he needs to, and then he tries to entice me the rest of the way. He’s smart, and I’m sure he’s very good at what he does. He’s just not going to do it to me.
“Your dick looks like an old banana.”
“Does it?” He smirks. “Then why can’t you stop looking, Siri? Is it because you’re hungry?”
I groan. “That’s not fair. You can’t be cheesy as hell on top of keeping me captive in your basement. You’re supposed to be plain evil.”
“There’s no such thing as plain evil,” he says. “At least, not in my way of thinking. Good things are plain. Truth. Honestly. Probiotic yoghurt.”
He’s still stroking his cock, and as silly as our conversation is, I know there’s more to this than meets the eye.
“Do you want to suck my cock, Siri?”
“No.”
“Thats a lie. You’ll be punished for lies, and I like punishing naughty girls, so tell me another. Do you want me to spread your legs and push this inside you?”
“…No.”
His smile only grows broader and darker. “It’s twisted, isn’t it, how much you really want this. How wet you are, right between your thighs. How that pain in your ass isn’t actually pain anymore, because it’s starting to make you feel good.”
Fuck. He’s right. I hadn’t actually noticed how my ass felt until now. The spanking wasn’t actually that bad. Being held over his lap, feeling his body against mine, it was like an antidote to the hours of solitude he put me through, and more than that, it made me feel small and safe and… this fucking asshole. He knows how to turn every natural impulse against me. He knows I must be craving security and strength, so he shows me both, and my stupid body doesn’t know the difference between a real hero and this dark mockery of one.
As much as I try to follow the logic I’m well aware of, the ache he installed in my ass has become traveling heat, and that heat has made its way down between my thighs. He’s right that I’m wet. He can see it. Maybe not my pussy, but he can see the flush on my cheeks and chest, the way my nipples have become two pink, hard little peaks.
I am physically responding to him, but that doesn’t mean I want him. That just means I’m a human, in a human body. He’s going to have to work harder if he wants to convince me that I secretly want to be his fuck toy.
He’s still stroking his bare cock. I can see a little bead of arousal at the tip of his dick. If he keeps going, I’m going to be kneeling here when he ejaculates, and I know I am in the firing line, my face and breasts prime targets.
“Do you want a taste?” He lowers his cock toward my lips, his eyes dangerous and narrowed, his lips parted with the husky breaths a man takes when he is getting ever closer to orgasm.
I shake my head. “Nu uh.”
“Are you sure?” There’s a lighter teasing to his tone, and I know that there are going to be consequences for all these refusals. I just don’t know what.
His hand is stroking harder, his fist working that thick, long shaft vigorously. That would be my pussy, if he wasn’t using his hand. That’s what it would look like inside me, a rough, plunging, powerfully potent dick ravaging me.
I am trying not to react, and to pretend that this is not arousing me, but it is. We have a connection, he and I. I don’t understand it, and I don’t think he does either. When our eyes meet, something sparks, and we are both caught up in it. I doubt he usually has any trouble maintaining control. I doubt he ever needs to do more than simply seduce his product. With me, it’s different. He’s admitted as much.
“Head up,” he grunts. “Look at me. Watch this.”
As if I could tear my eyes away. It’s not the sort of sight you look away from, especially not when its getting closer, a monster rod which commands attention.
I lift my eyes to his, hoping to defy him in some small way. He has me on my fucking knees. He turned my ass red. He spanked me like a badly behaved brat and he almost made me feel like one.
What I see in his face shocks me. There’s desire in his eyes, hooded with lust as he fists his cock, directing the fat head of it toward my lips. He wants me. But I’m his captive. If he wanted to, he could just fuck me. I couldn’t stop him. I couldn’t do a damn thing if he were to grab me and take that thick cock and push it right…
“Oh fuckkkkkkkk…” his groaned shout heralds orgasm, his semen shooting in impressive thick spurts which land across my breasts and nipples, a warm bath of male essence coating my skin.
I can feel my pussy clenching in response. My clit is tingling with need, and I am on the verge of some kind of strange climax myself. He hasn’t touched me apart from to cum on me, to mark me and make me his. I can smell the scent of him strong in my nostrils, and I can feel the heat of it as it trickles down over my breasts and drips down onto my knees and thighs. He’s made a shameful mess of me.
“Good girl,” he breathes heavily, reaching out to ruffle my hair in a gesture which is surprisingly affectionate.
“What makes me good?”
“You were a good little participant.” He’s tucking his cock away again, looking at me with a satisfied, approving expression.
“I didn’t participate.”
“You did though,” he says. “You stayed there, presented your breasts to me, and your face. You were not held in position, you weren’t even ordered to stay. But stay you did, and that’s why you’re wearing my cum now. You chose to.”
My mouth falls open as I try to formulate a resistant response, but I can’t seem to come up with one. Fuck. He’s right. I did let him cum on me. The fact he didn’t touch me or fuck me isn’t really a win when I consider that he got to ejaculate all over my body.
“You tricked me.”
“If you can be tricked by a man standing in front of you rubbing his cock until he cums, then the bar for deceiving you is incredibly low,” he says dryly.
“I’m going to wash off,” I say, even though there’s no way to get cleaned up. I’
m still quite literally tied to the floor, chained like an animal. He’s doing his best to make me feel my captivity, and it is working.
“No. You’re not. You’re going to stay down here and you’re going to wear that cum,” he orders, becoming immediately serious.
“Forever?”
“Until you tell me why you stayed when I tried to make you leave.”
So, forever, then.
I fall silent and remind myself that this is something I have to get through. Sooner or later, it will be over, and I’ll be free again. I just have remember that, and not get caught up in the web of dark charisma Stavros weaves.
“You want to be here, Siri. You crave the depraved things you know I’ll do to you, if you’re a good enough girl to deserve them.”
“I don’t want to be here. I…” I start to reply, feeling his cum start to separate from the thick consistency it had when it first landed and turn more watery, running over my breasts and coating them even more completely.
“Stop,” he growls, the word falling harshly from his lips. “I’m not interested in your excuses. Every other girl in your position has been captive just as you were, and if I’d opened the door, they would have fled. You chose to stay, Siri. You want this.”
Stavros
What I’m saying isn’t entirely true. Most all the girls, by the time I am done with them, can be trusted to walk freely in the world and return to me. It is a poorly trained pet who must be caged or leashed all the time - but Siri doesn’t need to know that.
She looks utterly shattered at the realization of how complicit she is in her own undoing. I’m not going to let her forget that she essentially agreed to all of this by refusing to get out of my car. She didn’t struggle. She didn’t run. She didn’t beg. She didn’t even say no. When I was jacking my cock over her body, she didn’t even flinch when I came on her. If anything, she arched up and into it, caught my seed on those soft, milky tits. This is as close to consensual as anything in my life gets.
Siri looks good wearing my cum. It gleams on her breasts, makes her shine like a jewel even down here in the depths where one single light illuminates her world. She threw me off balance when we met, but now we are going back to the beginning. I am going to do things as I should have done, before she managed to outwit me and spook me into almost letting her go.
She wipes one finger down her chest, gathering my seed, then flicks it at me, a thin gob of it landing on my trousers. Goddamit. That is going to stick and cling and stain, and… oh she looks so fucking pleased with herself.
“You don’t like it when the tables are turned?”
“Girl, you will feel my belt again,” I growl.
“So?”
What is wrong with her? She taunts and tests me, and though she is my captive, I feel almost as though she is the one in control, pushing my buttons, determining my actions, making me either run scared or turn around and bring her back in.
I just came all over her tits while she got nothing. I’ve belted her ass, I’ve spanked her long and hard, I’ve left my marks on her. I’ve taken her freedom, but for some reason with this woman, that isn’t enough. She’s just a teenager. Not even twenty yet, but I can feel myself contorting for her as she wraps me around her little finger.
“So?” I pull the end of my belt free of the buckle and slow-pull it from my waist. “You want more of this?”
She cocks her head and shrugs. Oh really. I see how it is. Someone is a little slut for pain. Someone wants to be hurt.
I reach down, take a fistful of her hair and pull her up from the ground. This basement is dark by design, but it is not by any means empty. I have all the means necessary of breaking a soul down here, including this cocky little girl who still doesn’t understand what she is up against.
The rope which held her so securely breaks away at the flick of my butterfly knife. “You can go back on your leash later, princess,” I tell her, using the term of endearment I use with all my girls. I have to keep reminding myself that she’s just another girl here to be trained, flesh to be used, a mind to be molded.
She makes some remark which I don’t bother to pay attention to. Nothing useful has come out of her mouth yet. I don’t expect that will change now.
There is a leather bench I like to use. It is fairly pedestrian in many ways, but I like the little metal loops on the legs where I can restrain the limbs of a misbehaved girl and watch her learn her lesson one lash at a time. I push Siri down on it and wrap the leather cuffs around her legs first.
“Wow, your pretend kidnapping business is really well-equipped,” she snorts. I smack her ass with my palm. Hard. I’m done with her lip. A gag is next to go into her mouth. I choose the biggest one, a big red ball which stretches her lips somewhat obscenely and makes her voice beautifully muffled, though it doesn’t stop her from trying to talk anyway as I get her arms secured.
“I’m done taking your attitude, Siri. And I’m done entertaining your disobedience. I’m also done explaining your situation. From now on, what happens to you, happens. You’ll learn to accept it. You’ll bear the pain I inflict on you. More than that, you’ll come to crave it.”
She makes some kind of sound. I don’t care what she’s trying to say. She is completely out of place and vulnerable in my basement. I could call it a dungeon, but I don’t. A dungeon is cartoonish and medieval. In modern terms, it is all too fantastical. What I do is simple and dirty and this place doesn’t deserve to be called anything other than what it is.
Now she’s in position, nicely trussed and perfectly presented, I take a moment to admire her. There’s something about youth, the potential of it all. She’s yet to do so many things. Her whole life ahead of her, all epitomized by this beautiful ass, the smoothness of her skin and a body which is yet to fill out the way it one day will. She is pure animal potential in this moment. I will shape her. Train her. I will make her whatever I want her to be.
Siri
Why do I always push him? All I had to do was put my head down and say yes sir. For this to work, I have to let him feel as though he is winning, but I just can’t. Right now, I’m at war with myself far more than I am with him. He’s doing exactly what he can be expected to do: exerting his will, humiliating me, breaking me down so he can turn me into a little fuck doll for his sick market.
Bound to the bench, my ass high and vulnerable, I can feel my arousal trickling between my lower lips. A question has been lurking in my mind for days. He’s going to fuck me, surely. When is he going to fuck me? I expected to find his thick cock shoved between my legs within minutes of finding myself in captivity, but it has been days and he is still restrained.
Maybe he’s not going to take me at all. Maybe he’s going to sell me as “unclaimed”, though that would be a lie. I might be young, but I’m not a virgin. I went out of my way to lose that early, doing precisely the thing that would break my father’s heart. I thought it would help. I thought it would change things. If it had, I probably wouldn’t be here, at the mercy of a monster.
“You want me to hurt you, is that it, Siri? You want to feel pain?”
He’s touching me lightly, his fingers just grazing over the heated skin of my ass. I don’t know what the fuck I want. I want this to be over. I want him to sell me already, so I can escape this dark basement. I want to move on with my life. But I keep taunting and tormenting him and I know that won’t end well.
I’m almost grateful for the gag he pushed into my mouth. It saves me from having to talk, and it saves me from getting into more trouble with him. I find myself relaxing into the bench. There’s no escape, so all I can do is endure.
Stavros
I hear the soft exhalation of breath which usually signifies physical submission. Usually the first time I tie a girl down, she panics. I am used to ropes pulling tight, biting into skin as a girl struggles, but Siri doesn’t offer me physical resistance.
She is quiet, accepting, and I could even fool myself into believing that this was sub
mission, if I was stupid.
I will make sure she does not leave this bench before she understands what I am capable of doing, and what she is capable of feeling. It is nice to touch her, to feel her body respond to lighter touches, to step away from the verbal sparring we’ve been engaging in from the beginning. As I step around behind her, I note how her pussy is covered in curling hair. That will be shaved off later. I will make a ceremony of it as I bare that pussy properly before she takes my cock inside her.
Having already orgasmed, I can take this slow. I’m not driven by the need to cum, my mind is clear. I still want to know who this girl really is, not that she can tell me in this position, not in words, anyway.
Her ass is still pink from previous punishment, but I think the heat is probably starting to fade and whatever sting I gave her didn’t do anything for her attitude. She can take more. I start slapping her haunches lightly, not to ease her into it, but to feel my way around her body. I want to see the way she reacts, if she rolls her hips, or arches her back. If she pulls away, tries to avoid contact. All those things tell me what she is, and isn’t, on the inside.
The light swats don’t do anything, as I suspected they wouldn’t. In the days and weeks to come, she will react to these. She will lift her hips and she will present her ass and pussy and she will moan prettily because she will know what it means.
For the moment, there is nothing. She stays in position, because she has no choice, but that’s about it. As my slaps grow harder and start to land faster, her cheeks start to redden and her ass starts to move out of discomfort. She’s getting more vocal behind the gag, her hips are dancing. She’s showing me how wet she is, leaving a little trail of dark moisture where her pussy rubs the bench.
“You liked when I came on you,”I purr. “You’ll love it when my cum is inside you.”
She shakes her head, but her hips lift. It’s funny how the body never lies even when a woman wants it to. Her arousal, at this moment, is incidental. This isn’t about her pleasure. This is about pain. I want her to feel the consequences of her arrogance. She has earned this spanking, the kind all girls need and so few get.
