He untied her hands, so she could touch him as he touched her; it was no surprise that she relished the feel of his skin. She began tentatively, but became more daring as the man above her moved against her flesh. Having not yet come, the teaming desire seemed to burst from her now, needy and demanding. He felt her nipples as hot bullets, as her sweltering belly undulated boldly beneath him. Wounded by long hours of physical deprivation, her hands hungered for the chance to hold human flesh and she clung to him in desperation. He had never felt so physically wanted, so needed. He could have climbed inside the seductive energy and let it swallow him up. And yet, her fervor made him restless—the kissing, the fevered touch, and that unspoken, non-tactile craving that rose up out of her ragged emotions.
They made love furiously, exploding on each other’s bodies, the tempest unstrained. But then a nagging restlessness stirred inside him, tearing away any joy. Overcome by the sudden agitation, he had the powerful urge to break away from the savage madness. Unable to bear her emotions any longer, he impulsively pulled off her body and bound her hands to the bedrail as they had been before. He left just enough slack in her leg tethers so his cock could easily have her cunt at any angle.
Yes, this was better. He could slam himself into her now and rock inside the blissful sheath of her grabbing pussy. He could stay there, until his movements brought her close to the edge, and then finally careened over the top. At the finish, what he’d held back until her orgasm began came raging forth in a near simultaneous climax. Nothing better than to be milked by a cumming cunt, he thought, as the sensation lingered on and on, and he finally breathed relieved.
The girl barely made a sound through it all, as if she understood that this was a private matter between them. And when it was over and he lay beside her, exhausted, she whispered softly, “Oh, sir, thank you!”
Emerson noted with some satisfaction that she called him, sir. Yes, fucking her now had been the perfect plan. Exactly the right thing to do.
“Yes, and I got what I came for,” he said, curtly giving her no emotional satisfaction in return. “Now you sleep.” He kissed her ear, and her cheek and finally crawled off the bed to search for his clothes. He wanted to stay with her, but knew that was impossible.
Once upstairs, Emerson took a long drink of milk from the fridge, popped one of Kathy Ann’s brownies in his mouth and went up to bed, shedding his clothes in seconds and crawling in next to Daphne.
She had her back to him and he thought she was asleep, which would have suited him.
But she was awake and wanted to talk. “You had sex with her, didn’t you?” she asked.
“Yes, I did,” he answered truthfully, knowing Daphne was likely disturbed by that fact.
“Why didn’t you do it like Bo and Zack when we were all there to watch?”
“Because I wanted her after the initial shock was over, after she’d calmed.”
Daphne was silent a moment, thinking. “Are you falling in love with her?”
This question particularly annoyed him. “Why would I do that?”
“Sometimes you can’t help who you fall in love with.”
“But it would be pointless, Daphne, since I’ll forever be a criminal in her mind.”
“Yes, I guess so,” she said after some silence.
“I hope you’re not telling me you’re jealous.” He pulled on her shoulder, making her roll his way.
“And if I were?” she asked. She looked through the shadowy darkness into his eyes.
“I’d say you’d better get over it.”
She nodded, knowing she had to make the best of it, but still the questions burned in her gut. “It’s hard for me to believe that Veronica X will not be changing things between us.”
“Daphne, don’t be so naïve,” he stroked her hair just as he had stroked the girl’s, “everything we do changes things between us. Nothing is static. Nothing remains the same. We evolve. Feelings evolve. Emotions are quixotic beasts. Life has no rules. Or haven’t you heard a thing I’ve preached about?”
“I hear everything you say, Emerson…” She didn’t finish, and rolled onto her back, staring into the dark above.
“And?”
She sighed, but didn’t continue.
“No, go ahead and say what you want to say. Punishments are off, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
“Okay. I listen to your lectures, Emerson, but I don’t really know what to believe, so I don’t take much of what you say seriously.”
Emerson was silent now, until Daphne thought they were both going to fall asleep. Then he finally responded:
“I guess that will eventually be a problem?”
He turned over in bed, his back to her. The discussion was over.
Chapter Nine
Sadie
I see that your story goes a good deal deeper than Emerson Gray’s novel. I always had the feeling there were things he almost said and wouldn’t, as if he was teasing his readers. I suppose he didn’t dare tell the whole story.
Daphne
Yes. He was mindful of censors. Can you imagine that? Mindful of censorship when he lived his life not censoring his own activity.
Sadie
But is that really true? It seems to me that Emerson Gray censored his behavior often. He controlled it so carefully.
Daphne
I suppose you could say that. He was a complex man, with uncanny instincts about people and human personality. He saw many truths clearly, and could spot bullshit with no effort at all. Yes, he censored his behavior in some ways. But what he reported of our lives in his novel just scratched the surface of what happened to Veronica X.
Sadie
Then she did bond with her captors?
Daphne after much thought
You know, I don’t honestly know; the psychology of it was a bit beyond me. I do know that Emerson led her through grueling and intense pain, and she came out the other side able to go through it again and again. She was able to find pleasure from the experience and that made it okay in her mind. I’d even say she wanted more. Whether that was ‘bonding’ or simply a show of her natural lust, I can’t say.
***
Kathy Ann and Daphne washed the captive in a wooden washtub in the kitchen. It was the first time she’d been upstairs since her abduction. Both women complained of having to work around the intrusive blindfold to wash the pretty red hair, but Emerson insisted. He thought masks to hide their identities were chancy and unnecessary for the short time they’d be inconvenienced.
When the bath was over, Veronica smelled like tea roses, Kathy Ann’s favorite perfume. The guys said they liked her better smelling raunchy. But Penelope reminded them that after another night’s fucking, she’d probably be reeking with their sweat and back to raunchy in no time.
After the bath the girl was returned to the cellar and tied to her pallet bed. The sheets had been freshly washed, something Penelope insisted on. “It only makes sense if you’re going to bathe her body not to put her back on that stinking bed.” Penny won that round and washed the sheets on both the cellar beds and they smelled of the out-of-doors when she was finished.
Emerson had had brooding thoughts that particular day. He’d be curt when questioned on any matter and announced about three o’clock that he wanted to be left alone. That was easy. No one wanted to be around him when he was in a stew. He ate his dinner quickly in the kitchen then took off to the area of the house that he designated as his writing garret, a small room on the second floor, no more than a tiny porch adjacent to the bedroom he and Daphne shared.
When he appeared again about nine o’clock, his spirit had totally revived and with a smile on his face, he announced to his friends, that it was time to assemble in the cellar.
***
The bench had been one of Emerson’s favorite inventions for the torture of the captive. It allowed for maximum availability of her backdoor and pussy both. She stood on a short six-inch riser, bent over a bar and rested her torso on
a ten-inch square board, which was just enough to hold her belly, strap her in and keep her steady. Her ankles were bound to the riser, her wrists to a lower bar she grabbed in front of her. While the position was rigid, the device was designed to minimize physical stress. Emerson planned to keep her there while he perpetrated the vile deeds he had in mind—and that could take some time.
Veronica’s first response to the demand was a bit surprising considering how she’d previously been relatively passive. Under her breath, but loud enough to hear, she made repeated objections as Zack and Bo bound her in. She jerked fitfully several times, which prompted swats from Zack’s hand and finally a word of advice from Emerson, as he bent down and tersely reminded her of his original warning.
“This is about your pleasure, but if you continue this way, I will punish you.”
This seemed to quell the worst of her protests.
“Take a deep breath,” he added.
She gave that a try. Just the feel of Emerson’s hand on her back seemed to do more than anything to calm her nerves.
Seeing that the girl was content enough for now, Emerson turned his attention elsewhere.
“You’re going to fist her ass,” he said, while standing eye to eye with a curious Penelope. The dark-eyed vamp smirked from the corner of her mouth.
“You’re a real ass, you know?” she whispered, with some amusement.
“You have a problem with the plan?”
“Oh, my, no,” she replied, her voice a low and sonorous timbre.
Penelope turned to appraise the scene understanding quickly what she needed to do. Noting the can of Crisco sitting on the table, she dipped her fingers inside and brought out a gob of the white grease. With a glint of sadistic glee in her eyes, she moved to the lovely target of Veronica’s ass and ran her slick fingers over her anal canal. She slowly worked the grease into Veronica’s anal hole, occasionally prodding the tight rim gently and then withdrawing. Every time she returned to Veronica’s anus, she went just a little deeper, and added another finger as the opening began to give with ease.
The bound girl answered the assault with a dozen soft exclamations, and several times she clenched anxiously, only to hear Emerson’s soothing words and feel his soothing hand calm her. Daphne joined in massaging the girl’s dangling breasts, while Kathy Ann reached between her thighs and moved determinedly toward her cunt and clit.
“Oh, my god…” the girl panted, in a near panic. But her panic was brief as she got used to the penetration and she settled again.
“Deeper,” Emerson ordered Penelope.
Inspired by his urging, Penelope pressed her fingers even deeper into the tight-fitting channel, only to have the girl jerk and the opening remain tightly clenched. Withdrawing her hand, she took another swipe of Crisco from the can and then returned to the task, working with increasing vigor to loosen the muscle. “Relax,” she whispered over and over in her throatiest voice. “Relax, girl, you’re doing just fine.” She pushed a little deeper. “That’s it, relax…” Her words became as tender a balm as Emerson’s hand against her face.
While Penelope’s hand worked its way inside the tight space, Emerson squat down next to Veronica’s ear and spoke only to her, in intimate tones he rarely used, but found perfectly easy for him now. “You’re going to take my friend’s fist in your ass, you understand?”
“Oh, sir, please…” she started to protest.
“No, no,” he gently tapped her cheek with his hand, then seized the side of her face in a gesture of ownership. “Listen to my voice. That’s all you need to do…” he wrapped the spell around her mind, “listen to me…listen to the way your body feels.” He nodded to Penelope at her other end who doggedly probed the plump rear with her small hand. Her fist elongated and she drove her four fingers deep inside, the knuckles forming a half-moon. This widest part of her fist little by little pushed its way inside the girl’s behind.
“Ah…whewww!!!” Veronica’s gentle, weepy cry could not be helped, but with Emerson tenderly, persistently encouraging the girl, the female fist forcefully expanded the taut opening, until it finally slipped completely inside the girl’s bottom. “Ohhmmmygod!” she gasped. Her entire body seized up and Penelope’s hand froze with uncertainty.
Emerson nodded for her to continue. “You’re just fine,” he said, as he stroked Veronica’s face, “relax and you won’t be hurt.
As he spoke, Penelope’s hand moved more rapidly inside the girl’s back channel, while Daphne and Kathy Ann upped their sensuous massage in attempts to draw Veronica’s mind back to the eroticism that grew strong with every moment of her impalement.
Penelope worked her fist much like a cock would, until she was pumping the girl at a vigorous pace. Veronica’s lovely rump began to respond to the tempo in an undulating dance that was amazing to watch.
“Oh! Oh! Oh my!” At first, she clenched up with each sharp intake of breath. Her passionate cry stung the air.
“Relax, girl,” Emerson coached. “Relax, you’re doing just fine.”
She tried to breathe more evenly and soon her cries began to change, her voice less desperate. “Oh, my yes!”
A few minutes passed and her fear seemed to have fled, along with the terrible discomfort that made her so anxious.
“Keep going until she comes,” Emerson instructed Penelope.
At that remark the girl immediately seized up—cause for Emerson to reach forward and yank a nipple firmly with his pinching fingers. “Relax yourself! You… will… come if this takes all night.” Veronica X answered the command with surprising obedience and Emerson’s voice quickly returned to more a soothing tone. Was it solely the circumstances or was this Emerson’s will and Emerson’s seductive powers of persuasion that made her yield?
“Work the clit,” he commanded Kathy Ann, who, if it had been possible, would have been licking the sweet, puckering thing with her lips. The apparatus prevented that, but she managed to thrum the girl’s swollen pleasure center until it quivered anxiously, seeking its own end.
Seeing his sweet victim so beautifully engaged, Emerson reached out to Zack and nodded. His friend handed him a pair of clothespins, and with his wife’s assistance, he slipped them over pinches of the girl’s breast flesh and waited for her response. The first two caused a small shiver to roll through her body, but this only seemed to add to her increasing arousal. Zack handed him more clothespins until Emerson had at least six scattered over each breast, sticking out like porcupine quills from her reddened flesh. The girl hardly seemed aware of what was happening. Sensation swept through her body in a savage torrent and she began to jerk of her own volition—not just because Penelope’s fist hammered her entrails.
The cry to finish off the scene began from deep in her gut, and continued until her body suddenly shook hard, “Ohhhhhhhhmyyygawwwwwd!” The sound rose upward, as if it could lift the ceiling off the cellar and house and disperse in the clouds above.
With a fresh burst of inspiration, Emerson began taking the clothespins away and watching her body’s ecstatic reply.
Penelope shifted to a slower fist-fucking motion, feeling from the spasming channel an energy that shot right through her hand, moved down her arm, and settled between her legs. “Oh, damn, girl!” she exclaimed louder than Emerson would have liked, but he couldn’t stop her and likely didn’t care by now.
As his hand continued with the teasing caress of her head and hair and face, a sadistic thrill washed over him, his body quaking and alive with lust.
Zack and Bo stood back, rocked by the fire that grabbed their crotches, while Daphne and Kathy Ann silently smoldered with more desire than they could possibly express at that moment. If they could have tumbled into bed with this girl and made love, that might assuage their collective need, but they would have to be satisfied with fucking the boys later once the girl had been safely put to bed for the night.
There were no complaints from Veronica X once she was released and resting in Emerson’s arms. Still in
the grip of a profound intoxication, her lips revealed an expression of surreal pleasure. Emerson stroked her cheek, ran his fingers through her hair, gestures like a lover or a doting father. Then he and Bo carefully lifted her to the softer bed outside her cell and laid her gently down, where one would think she’d drift into a dreamy sleep.
Daphne, Kathy Ann and Penelope looked on wonderingly, not completely understanding what was happening with the girl or Emerson. But none of the three, in particular Daphne, would say a word about their confusing feelings. Perhaps his surprising tenderness was necessary to keep her calm and compliant. Perhaps, however, he genuinely cared for her.
***
The morning brought a sudden change in the abductee’s schedule, precipitated by a conversation between Emerson, Zack and Bo late the previous night. The three decided between them that their captive was beyond the need for extreme sensory deprivation and some time outside of the cellar would be good for her.
Before she was brought upstairs, however, Emerson exercised her, making her do jumping jacks, and run in place until she practically collapsed with exhaustion. While she followed his orders, still blindfolded, he encouraged her with the cane. Sometimes his urgings were just light taps against her thighs, to spur her physical exertion. Sometimes he hit with force to get her body moving.
“That’s it, keep it up!” he was heard to say, as the others occasionally listened from above.
He wanted her physically tired and her mind blank from so much input. If she couldn’t think, she couldn’t scheme to get away. He needed her behaving thoughtlessly, like a slavish beast, willing to do anything he asked without a second’s hesitation.
The Abduction of Veronica X Page 10
