by Paul Blades
She was lying on her left side, facing the door when the man entered. Her heart fluttered as she considered her hoped for liberation. She had given long and careful thought to her predicament and had determined to listen carefully and do everything she was told. Now that the man was here in her room, she redoubled her resolution.
Anna felt the bed sag slightly as the man sat down on it next to her. Was he here to free her or to torment her? She realized that she was wholly in his arbitrary power. If she made the wrong move, did the wrong thing, her torment could be extended, or, if her controller chose, made even worse.
Anna felt the man’s hand slide down her proffered, naked, right hip. It was hot and strong. The contact was welcome, a break from her long, uninterrupted isolation. She assumed it was Vincent, but she was not sure until she heard him speak.
“Have you learned your lesson, Ms. Addunizio?” the servant asked. There was a slight tinge of sympathy in it, almost as if some part of him rued the necessity of punishing her. Anna nodded her hooded head and murmured a sad, muffled, affirmative reply. The strong hand lingered on her body, caressing her sensitive flesh from her knee to her hip. She felt pressure on her hip and she obediently followed its urging and turned to her back. The hands of the servant passed over her taut, nervous belly and seized her plump, defenseless mounds, stroking and massaging them. Anna initially felt revulsion at the man’s intimate touch, but the warmth of his hands and the leisurely, knowledgeable way that he manipulated her orbs soon became comforting and turned to mild excitement when he pinched and pulled playfully at her stiffened nipples.
The hands left her breasts and slowly dragged along her belly and across her thighs. Anna thought of the markings the man had put there and the pain she had suffered at each determined, remorseless blow. Was whipping going to be a steady part of her life under Devlin’s dominion? He had whipped her last night, slapped her with his belt. That had been nothing compared to what Vincent had done to her, a mere annoyance in comparison. But both had been insulting, demeaning, stripping her of dignity and stressing her powerlessness.
Apparently having satisfied himself, Vincent raised her feet and untied her ankles from each other. He got off the bed and ordered her to sit up and to bring herself to the edge of the mattress. Anna felt his hands on the strings to her hood and was relieved when it was pulled free. She blinked her eyes in the bright, morning light. She remembered that it was probably only around 8:30 or so. She had a long day in front of her and her stomach quailed as she pondered what it would be like.
Anna expected Vincent to remove her gag and to untie her hands, but he had other ideas. “Get up,” he ordered her. Anna dutifully, if unsteadily, rose to her feet.
“Do you have to use the bathroom?” He asked her coldly.
Anna, realizing that she might not get the chance again for a long while nodded dutifully. Vincent made a gesture with his hand signaling her to go and she complied without reservation. He stood at the door while she peed and, afterwards, had her spread her legs so that he could wipe her. Anna felt a surge of shame as he dragged the toilet paper across her love lips, pressing down to absorb the last drops of her discharge.
The man washed his hands and then brought Anna back into the bedroom and had her sit back down on the bed. The only items of her clothing that were left in the room were her high heeled shoes and he buckled them on her feet. “Get up and follow me,” he said, matter of factly.
The unhappy young woman stood behind the suited servant as he unlocked the door. He didn’t mean to have her walk through the mansion bound and naked, did he? Her mind revolted at the thought. She knew, though, she had no choice if that was what he intended and, when he opened the door to let her pass, she stepped out of the room that had been her prison.
Walking down the narrow stairs behind Devlin’s servant, Anna was filled with dread and unhappiness. She had caught a glimpse of what she looked like in the mirror in her room. Her long, black wavy hair was disheveled and tangled. Her makeup was smeared and her eyes looked black. The shiny gold earrings that dangled from her ears, the only remnant of her adornments that they had permitted her to retain, looked incongruous and mocking as they emerged from her tangled mass of black hair. If she had any hope she could regain some of her self respect and dignity before her next confrontation with the craven master of this house, it was shattered by that glance. She felt dirty and soiled and she dreaded being presented to him naked, bound and gagged. If he thought of her before as a lowly whore, a sluttish slave, her appearance now would strikingly confirm his opinions.
Anna stepped carefully down the stairs. She didn’t wear high heels that often and her lack of practice on them was compounded by the fact that her hands were bound behind her. Her shoes made loud, echoing sounds as she placed them carefully on each tread. Vincent was moving quietly in front of her.
She expected to be brought down to the ground floor and was surprised as they reached the second floor to see Vincent turn to his right and go down the hall. They passed several doors to what Anna supposed were bedrooms and entered a double doorway at the end of the hall. The room they passed into was bright and surrounded by windowed glass. It was decorated in light, elegant furniture, a glass table with straight backed chairs around it, a couple of lounge chairs, large potted palms. The rug was a flowery print that reached to within two feet of the walls of the room, exposing evidence of the polished wooden floor underneath.
To her dismay, she saw Devlin sitting in a comfortable, light blue arm chair on the left near the windows. He was dressed in a soft, fluffy, white, terry cloth robe that reached to his knees and had brown, leather slippers on his feet. He was reading a newspaper and had a cup of coffee on a small, glass table next to him. His legs were crossed and Anna could see a patch of darkness between his thighs where his sex resided. Vincent brought her to a position a few feet in front of him and stood by her side, awaiting his master’s pleasure.
Devlin lowered his paper and let his eyes wander across Anna’s naked flesh. She was conscious of her bound hands behind her and the round, spongy ball that peaked out from her widened mouth. Devlin nodded to his servant and Anna listened to the soft tread of his feet as he left the room. When the door closed, Devlin smiled at her and went back to reading his paper.
While Devlin read, Anna stood trembling in front of him. Nervously, she took the opportunity to look out of the windows behind her master. She had only seen the mansion at night and she was awed by the view. The building sat high on a hill and she could see for miles over the leafless trees that surrounded it. Off in the distance, there were the tops of the tall buildings of the city. She tried to estimate where the Center was from where she stood. The sun was to her right and she knew that she was looking north. The Center was on the city’s outskirts, somewhat south and east of it. She felt some comfort that she could see the world outside of the mansion, that it still existed. It made her more hopeful that Devlin would allow her to return to it. At the same time, she realized, she was not the same person who had entered Devlin’s mansion last night, who had tidied up her desk in her office in the Center, making little notes about the things she needed to do on Monday when she returned. The recollection of her naïveté regarding what her time with the Center’s principal benefactor would be like reminded her that all she was doing, all that she suffered, was so that the Center could continue. Her resolve to take all that Devlin could dish out returned.
Devlin finally put down his paper and leaned over, picking up his coffee cup. It was made of elegant china, gold rimmed. He took a sip and put it back down in the delicate saucer and then looked up at her.
“Good morning, Anna,” he said, almost cheerfully. “Did you sleep well?” The sound of Devlin’s voice shattered Anna’s resolve to be strong. Tears welled up inside her. She nodded dolefully at the man’s pleasantry and murmured a stifled, “Yes, Mr. Devlin.” The sound of her strangled voice made her swoon with shame.
“I see that you’ve been a nau
ghty girl,” the man continued. “Did you learn your lesson?”
Anna was not sure whether the man was referring to her bound hands, her gag, or the red stripes that she wore across her breasts, belly and thighs. Probably all three. Her unhappy answer sounded like “eh, i-er eh-in,” and barely escaping her gagged mouth. The very reminder of her sufferings made tears flow from her eyes and her body tremble. She tried desperately to control herself, but she felt like she was coming apart right in front of the man.
“Come here, Anna,” Devlin ordered. His voice was soft and sympathetic. He opened his arms invitingly. Anna stepped cautiously towards him. He indicated that she should sit on his lap and she carefully maneuvered herself so that she could sit on his left thigh, her bare legs between his, her naked shoulder leaning against his strong, upper arm. He wrapped it around her and pulled her towards him.
“Poor little Anna,” he said soothingly. “You’ve had a very hard time, haven’t you?”
Anna felt a well of sorrow flow through her. She nodded dolefully. Yes, she had had a very hard time. It was incongruous, but she felt relief and the lifting of her anxiety as he uttered the kindly words. She began to cry and Devlin pulled her head into the nape of his neck and held her tight. As she sobbed, he murmured soft, soothing words to her. “Go ahead and cry, Anna. You’ll feel better. That’s it, let it out. Let it all out.”
A dam broke in Anna’s heart and all of her unhappiness flowed free. She hadn’t cried like this since she was a teenager. The man’s strong arms felt soothing around her. His soft, cotton robe felt warm and comforting on her naked skin. She was chagrinned that she was making such a display before him, but nothing she did could ease the flow of tears or sobs.
Devlin ran his hand over her head, stroking her hair. After a long time Anna felt her control over her emotions returning. The hand that caressed her head was welcome. She felt it fiddle with the strap behind her head that held her gag in place and then it loosened. Devlin urged her head up and drew the large, spongy ball from her mouth placing it on the table next to them. Holding her head in his hands, her face turned towards him, he placed an affectionate kiss on her lips and then kissed her cheeks, her chin and even over her eyes. “That’s a good girl,” he whispered to her. “That’s a good girl.”
When Devlin’s lips returned to hers, Anna felt the man’s hot breath. When his tongue slipped along the surface of her lips and then prodded at the opening between them, Anna parted her lips and accepted the man’s hot, lust driving tongue inside. As their tongues intertwined, she felt his hand wander over her breasts and belly, caressing and stroking. He cupped one breast after another in his hand, squeezing them gently, kneading them softly, bringing a wave of pleasure to her. His hand descended as his lips left hers. While his fingers pried at the entrance to the gates of her moistening cleft, pushing aside the thick array of curly, black, pubic hair that disguised it, he seized a nipple with his lips and began to suckle at it, playing with its tip with the tip of his tongue.
The emotionally drained young woman reveled in the passion that the man was raising in her. She pulled at the bound hands behind her, wanting to wrap her arms around the man who was stimulating her naked flesh. After ensuring that her sex was soft and moist, Devlin pushed her thighs further open, caressing the soft inner skin on both of them. He passed his hand over her hip, along the side of her torso and over her belly. Lust erupted within the naked, bound woman everywhere the hand passed. It was like she was an instrument he was playing and he was a virtuoso at passion. When his fingers slipped between her love lips and entered her, scouring the hot, inner surface, Anna moaned with lust. When his thumb began to stroke gently against her hardened clit, she groaned and shifted her hips, spreading her legs wider, melting into her master’s arms.
Devlin used his hand and his lips to drive Anna deeper and deeper into her excitement. He brought her to the edge of completion twice, only to slow his caresses, withdraw his hand from her needy quim, and resume stroking her trembling thighs. Anna gave out long, deep throated moans when he finally allowed her to come. Her body rocked in the man’s arms as pulse after pulse of exquisite pleasure flowed through her. Her bound hands writhed behind her. She could feel her pussy’s walls clamp down tightly on the fingers inside it. Her electrified love button screamed as Devlin’s thumb continued to torture it to ecstasy. Her cries of pleasure echoed through the brightly lit room.
As her orgasm subsided, Devlin loosened his grip on her body. Anna’s heart was pounding and her breath was labored. A warm contentment had spread all through her. It felt odd that the rude, callous man of the night before should be capable of bringing her so much pleasure. For a while, he allowed her to rest in his arms and absorb the glowing aftereffects of her powerful climax. After a minute or so, his voice pierced her reverie.
“Was that nice, Anna? Did you like that?”
“Yessssss, Mr. Devlin,” Anna sighed, letting her satisfied body rest against him.
“I want you to suck my cock now, Anna, and try to do a little better than yesterday.”
His instructions jolted her from her listlessness, a reminder that she was his to command. She slid her body off of his lap and took a kneeling position before him. While yesterday she had been appalled and insulted by his rude demand, now she was almost grateful for the opportunity to bring him pleasure, for the opportunity at redemption. Anna looked up at the man, her brown eyes soft and watery. He was smiling down at her appreciatively. He spread his thighs wider, brushing aside his robe. Anna leaned forwards, capturing his hardened prick between her lips.
The bound woman took her time in servicing Devlin’s thick, long cock. She could feel the heat of his thighs on the sides of her arms as she brought her mouth up and down on it, concentrating on the soft textured hardness as it passed over her lips, its salty taste. The bulbous head dragged over her tongue as she pushed her head down as far as she could go, feeling the smooth helmet push against the entrance to her throat. She could hear the man sigh, his breath getting deeper and deeper as she caressed him. His hips pushed back against her when she descended his stiff pole with her lips and withdrew as she slid them back up, her tongue washing it. She nibbled at the cock’s tip until Devlin moaned and then brought her mouth down again, time after time. There was something about her obsequious serving of him that felt right. He was a powerful, self assured, domineering man and she was nothing but a lowly servant of his lust. Her pussy still glowed from his manual administration of passion to it and the sensation of his thick meat in her mouth made her lust rise again. She remembered how the thick, rigid wand had driven her to ecstatic convulsions the night before and, to her shame, her pussy seemed to yearn for its presence once again.
When she felt his passions about to erupt, she slowed her efforts to prolong his delight. He sighed and moaned, his hips shifting, his hands wandering over her head and over her shoulders. When she resumed her efforts, he groaned and his body tensed, receiving the hot moisture of her mouth and tongue.
Finally, she let him come, his piece jerking and spasming in her mouth, his bitter, salty sperm flooding her. She felt entranced as she drank it, as if the pulsing manhood had cast a spell over her.
Remembering her instructions from the night before, Anna kept her lips locked on Devlin’s softening wand until all of his juices had ebbed from it and he gave her a signal to rise. He ran his hand over her head. “That was a little better, Anna,” he said. “There’s hope for you yet.”
Devlin picked up an intercom from the table next to him and pressed a button. Vincent’s voice came over it and he instructed his servant to return to the sun room, as he called it, to retrieve their ‘guest’. He made Anna lean forward and, to her dismay, reinstalled her gag. He returned to his newspaper.
Anna knelt at the man’s feet, her bound hands resting in the small of her back, until Vincent entered the room, about two minutes later. He stood next to her, awaiting instructions
“Anna,” Devlin said, looking up fr
om his paper, “I want you to get all cleaned up and then you can come down and have breakfast. We’ll talk about the rest of your day then.”
Anna, having been dismissed, rose obediently to her feet and followed Vincent from the room.
Chapter Three
Anna stood under the shower, letting the hot water calm and soothe her body. The red lines where Vincent had struck her stung at first when the water hit them, but had quickly faded from her notice. She wondered whether she would ever feel clean again. Her crying jag with Devlin and the ease with which she had succumbed to his manual excitation of her lusts disturbed her. She had not felt such an authentic release of her pent up emotions in many years. The pleasure she had received while sucking on his tool seemed strange and perverse.
Vincent had told her she had a half hour to clean herself. She shook herself from her torpor and applied the luxurious soap that had been supplied with the bathroom to her body. She washed her privates thoroughly, eliminating the evidence of her bouts of passion from her curly pubic hair. As she ran her hands over her flesh, she marveled at its sensitivity. She squeezed and caressed her heavy breasts, receiving a twinge of desire in her place below as a result. When she ran the soap over her nether lips, her hand stayed longer than necessary, rubbing her little nub of pleasure gently until she felt a familiar burning in her crevasse.
After washing, she dried her body with the plush, oversized towel that had been provided. She looked at herself in the mirror over the sink while she dried her hair with the blower that had been supplied as an amenity in the bathroom. Devlin thought of everything, she mused, as she ran the hot air over her locks while running a brush through them with her other hand. There was even a fresh, new toothbrush for her to use, still packed in its plastic case. She was looking at her face, examining it closely to see if the shift in her personality was reflected there. The cheap, gold plated earrings that she had bought, the only part of her attire that she had worn on Friday night when she came to Devlin’s mansion still left to her, other than he high heels, glinted in the bight light. She had removed her dried up makeup before the shower and her face was devoid of supplementation. Her lips were just a little paler and her skin just a little less rosy. Her eyes, which had been carefully adorned with decoration before coming to Devlin’s mansion, shone nicely in their natural setting.
