He lay heavily against her for a long moment before finally beginning the slow process of extracting himself from her rear. When finally he was able to pull his dick head out, she felt a flow of his juices dripping out of her ass.
He patted her rear twice and she winced. He murmured an apology. She knew he must have enjoyed himself, else he would have never thought to do so.
Finally, he had composed himself enough to walk to her front. As before, he'd already clothed himself again, and she could not see his cock.
“Well, my pet, have you learned your lesson?”
She frowned. What was supposed to be her lesson? Don't spill water? Don't donate to scientists without fully checking their credentials? Then, finally she understood.
“Yes, Master. I think so. I will obey your commands.”
He nodded approvingly and began to walk to the door that led to the part of the cabin she'd never been in.
“You will sleep in the harness tonight.”
Making Her Pay
Breaking Her Down #3
by
Claudia Balvenie
@ClaudiaBalvenie
claudiabalvenie.com
Copyright 2015.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author.
CHAPTER 1
Diana had finally found a worse way to sleep than in a kennel: suspended from the ground in a harness.
Oh she'd enjoyed it at the time, bound from below the breasts to a bit underneath her waist. Her arms were expertly buckled behind her back, her legs dangling below. All of the bits that her Master desired were left open to his use. Her mouth and all her holes were at just the right angle for his enjoyment.
And enjoy her he did, using all of the holes, punishing her in every way possible. Then, when buried in her tightest nether region, he exploded, having taken everything she had to offer.
He had promised to make her pay for everything that had happened to the world since the collapse of civilization. He truly believed that she was responsible for what happened to their country, at least partially. She had, after all, spent the last year surviving the apocalypse in a custom-built luxury bunker.
But it was not her fault that she'd been better prepared than he. It was not her fault that she'd inherited millions when her parents passed away in her early twenties. The fact that she'd once donated money to the company that he blamed for loosing the virus, well, that could be her fault. She might admit to a twinge of guilt at that. But it was not her guilt that kept her here.
Indeed he had promised her she could leave at any time she wished, he'd even give her provisions to make it easier. But she knew she couldn't survive alone. She didn't want to. She wanted this brutal punishment. Perhaps, in a part of her mind that even she could not admit existed, she believed it was deserved.
And so she remained, a slave to his sexual urges, as he attempted to break her down. He wanted her broken, his dark revenge upon her. She cursed her fame, she cursed her haughtiness. He had known exactly who she was when he found her alone in the wilderness. And she knew that unless she submitted to his will, he would never stop. But she just couldn't give in.
She supposed that's why she was trapped, dangling from the ceiling, sticky from his seed that dripped out of her, waiting for his return.
How many hours had it been? Had she slept at all? Where was he? Was he sleeping? Did he get killed by one of the creatures that roamed the planet?
That was the most horrifying thought. If he'd been taken unaware, or he'd been overcome by their masses, what would happen to her? She was completely helpless, a delicious, dangling present for any of the flesh eaters if they happened upon her.
Once the terror was upon her, it spiraled out of control. She started to struggle against her bindings. She began to call for the man who'd kept her, one whom she only knew as “Master.” Her voice became more and more fearful as he didn't respond. A scream of pure fear ripped from her throat.
The door crashed open revealing her captor, a pistol in his hand. He scanned the room for threats, completely alert. Finding none, his gaze settled back on her and he pointed the pistol at the ceiling.
“What... the fuck... is wrong with you?” He asked, his voice heated.
“I...” it seemed so pointless now, he was standing in front of her, safe. She'd let her imagination run wild. “I didn't know where you went..”
He clicked the safety back on. He moved to her side, cupping her cheek in his large hand. She snuggled against it. It was the first time she'd seen this much of his body, as he wore only sweat pants. His chest was hairless and just as muscular as she'd expected. He was a man who earned his body through hard work and fighting.
The sight of his bare feet, even, seemed a dangerous thrill. He'd been so careful up until now, taking every part of her that she could give, but allowing her not even a glimpse of his nude form. She'd always been blindfolded when he used her.
His voice was soft, almost kind. It was the first time she'd heard it so. “Do you want out of this?” He asked simply.
Her eyes fluttered open. “Oh yes, please. My arms are asleep and I really haven't slept. Surely you have a proper bed...”
He lay his finger over her lips, shaking his head. “Not your bindings. Those are not negotiable.” He tilted her chin forward, searching her eyes. “Do you want out of this?” He repeated.
She understood then. Her eyes darted to the over sized backpack that lay by the door. He had promised her, if she only spoke the word, that he would let her venture back into world. That world that she, safe inside her bunker, had no idea how to survive. Was she willing to try her hand at the wilderness to save herself being uncomfortable here?
“No.” She stated simply, meeting his gaze. She watched the cruel grin as it slowly crept over his countenance.
Then he smacked her across the cheek.
“What the fuck?” She squealed. When pain didn't immediately blossom, she realized he'd done it to get her attention and simply be loud, not to cause pain. Still, no one had ever lain hand upon her. It made her anger bubble to the surface.
“No, Master.” He corrected her, through gritted teeth.
“No, Master,” She repeated, her gaze just as fierce. She wished her body didn't respond like this. She had no idea why she wanted to be treated like this. But still, there it was.
“Better.” He turned from her and began to walk to the door. When he was almost gone, Diana spoke up once more.
“Master?”
He turned back to face her, his hand on the doorknob.
“Yes, my pet?”
“Why?”
He stopped then, leaning against the still open door, considering her.
“Why..?” He questioned, prompting more information from her.
“Why can't you just help me, and not punish me? You clearly are doing well in this world, why don't you want to help me too?”
He tilted his head to her, his eyes cool. “You think that you... deserve help?”
“Well of course! We are all humans, all just trying to survive! I would have helped you...”
He took two angry steps forward, his fists clinched at his sides. “You didn't.”
“I...” She licked her lips once, considering. “Well, I didn't know how bad it was...”
“Nor would you, safe in your own little rich girl world.” He turned from her, fury radiating from his every pore.
“Your precious bunker mates,” he continued, staring off at nothing, “we all begged, pleaded. They had so much food, years and years worth, even with our numbers. Weapons, safety, provisions. Oh yes, girl, you had everything you could possibly want.”
He slowly turned his face back to hers, and she felt fear come upon her in a rush. He was a dangerous, cruel man, she could see it now.
“I... I didn't...” she stammered.
“No, of course not. That's what you paid for.”
He began to laugh then, an evil laughter that shook his whole body.
“What's... why is it funny?” She asked, when he did not stop.
“All your money to protect yourselves, but it was the money that ended up being your undoing.”
An ice cold horror shot down her spine. “You... you were involved in my home's destruction?”
“Indeed.”
She worked at the words for a long moment, before finally finding the right one. “How?”
He shrugged then. “It's simple. You paid all your workers with cash. Guess what wasn't worth anything after the fall? Oh, it took a while, as you might expect. But the resentment, well it was always coming.
“After all, how long can people wait on and clean up after a bunch of rich assholes who are doing nothing to better their lives? They see everything you have, and they see how hard they had to work. You were all in the bunker together, but they never had what you had.
“It can turn even the most loyal servant's heart, given enough time. You'd basically created your own slave class, trapped them in a cage and forced them to do your bidding. And for what? Useless paper?
Again Diana tried to respond, but she heard the truth in his words. She had seen them, all their workers. She and the other elite had believed their workers to simply be happy to survive. They'd had all they needed, even though they'd had to work for it. She'd thought they would have been content, having not needed to survive in the wastes.
Her Master lowered his voice softly. “They wanted freedom, yet you'd kept them as slaves.”
“And so you destroyed my home.”
“Yes.”
He turned from her and slowly walked to the door. Before he closed it, he simply said, “And that's why you are being punished.”
CHAPTER 2
Alone again, Diana's thoughts raced.
She tried to wrap her head around everything he'd told her. These people, these workers, they were not slaves. They could leave anytime they wished. They could take any provisions they wanted, venture out into the wilderness.
Just like he'd offered her.
The irony was not lost upon her, not now. Of course, none of the workers she'd had were required to submit to the wealthy, at least as far as she knew. No, he'd gone further than that.
But the question that plagued her was, should she stop him?
She could, of that she had no doubt. He'd asked so many times, she knew he told the truth.
But it had been so long since she'd actually felt safe. The bunker, well, it gave the illusion of safety. She was certainly comfortable.
And it was utterly boring.
She cursed herself. Was that it? Was she truly so shallow that she felt the bunker was dull and would prefer to be on, what, an adventure?
She wanted her Master desperately. Even after he'd been so rough, so cruel, she wanted him inside of her. She wanted to please him. She knew that she was safe, save from the pain that he would cause her. And she deserved that, after all.
After what seemed like an eternity of soul searching, she heard him up and rustling about. When finally he pushed open the door to her small room, he was pulling a strange machine behind him. If he was still upset from the night before, it did not show on his face. As he most often was, he was dressed impeccably, all in black. Every tactical piece of clothing was expertly fit to his muscular body.
But the machine concerned her. “What is that, Master?” She asked, the pop to her face reminding her to use his title.
“Mmm, you'll find out, my pet.” He chuckled darkly. He began to plug the device in. It had a hose that was connected to it, stretching out from the next room. He pulled a nozzle from the side of the device, twisting and adjusting. The device whirred to life. She wondered where he was getting electricity. That was part of the reason no one would leave the bunker, they said that there was none to be found.
She promptly forgot that line of inquiry as the first blast of high pressure hot water slammed her in the face.
The tremendous stream of water took over her senses. She couldn't hear over the beat of it against her ears. Her eyes were forced shut against the onslaught. She couldn't open her mouth or scream, the water would just pour inside.
As more and more water exploded against her face, the fear began to return. Did he truly mean her harm? She couldn't breathe! She gasped for air, and water flowed down her throat, allowing her nothing.
He seemed to sense exactly how long it would take her to start fighting for that next breath. He pulled the nozzle away from her face and began to slowly move down her body, still clothed in the tatters that he'd left her in. He didn't bother to remove her from the harness. Her whole body swung away from the force of the water.
He took his time cleaning her, spraying the hot water all along her bound skin. When he reached her breasts, he spent a long time spraying them from every angle. He seemed to enjoy watching them bounce together with the gravity. When finally that no longer amused him, he moved lower down her body, to her rear, her legs. Finally, he spread her cheeks apart and began to clean what clearly interested him most.
It should have been painful, that hot explosion of water. She felt it rush deep inside her slit, washing away any of his juices that he'd left behind. He used his hands to pry her apart, letting the water reach deep inside of her womb and her rear. Even the beating against her delicate clit, in this state, was intoxicating. She could feel herself starting to relax against the onslaught.
As abruptly as it began, the water stopped. Her harness swung like a pendulum, readjusting from the force that it was so recently fighting against. Her Master slapped his hand against her wet rear, hard. She squealed. The sound reverberated through the room. She knew it would leave a mark.
Her Master, wordlessly, pulled the machine back outside, turning it off. When he returned, he had a large bowie knife at his side, chuckling darkly. He made a slow circle around her, tapping the blunted edge against his palm, while making sure that she could see exactly how sharp it was.
Once more fear touched her features. She trusted him, at least, she was trying to. She began to struggle against the wet harness that kept her chest suspended off the ground, and her arms tied tightly behind her back. She couldn't even look away, her collar was leashed to the rope that held her suspended.
His smile was gruesome as he held the knife out in front of her. “Mmm, my pet. I'm feeling like we need a little more danger, don't you think?”
She shook her head, truly frightened now, but unwilling to say the safe word.
“Come now. That beautiful face of yours. Your known world wide. Would be a shame if you were to mar it...”
Before she could react, he had flicked the barest edge of the knife against her cheek. It took a moment, but suddenly she felt the pain of the cut. She shrieked.
His laughter trailed behind him as he wandered to the other side of the room, pulling a full length mirror with him. He pushed it in front of her so that she could see exactly what he had done to her.
Indeed, he had cut her cheek, a thin line of her blood was trailing down to her chin, dripping off. She had once insured her beauty, as it was part of her trademark. Now, with just a flick, he may have ruined it.
But it was worse than that. She could see her whole body in front of her, tied up, helpless. Her legs dangled below her, but the rest was bound so tightly that he could truly do anything he wanted to her.
And he was moving behind her to do exactly that.
CHAPTER 3
She began to wiggle away again, frightened more of this knife than any of the guns or other weapons he'd held before. No, she'd tasted this blade.
She felt him run it up the bare skin of her legs, the cold metal hard against her wet and soft body. He slowly used it to caress from her ankles to the backs of her thighs, finally finding that sweet spot in between. There he lingered, for a moment too long.
“Please!” She said, no longer able to hold her tongue.
“Hmm?” h
e asked, clearly absorbed in his work.
“Please, don't!” She cried out, afraid he would do to her slit what he'd done to her cheek.
He chuckled softly, heat in his voice. He was clearly enjoying the threat.
“What's wrong, my pet? Don't enjoy being completely under my control?” He slid the cold blade underneath the remnants of her skirt. “Are you afraid I might...” He jerked the blade upward in one smooth motion, the remains of her destroyed clothing falling to bits, “slip?”
Breaking Her Down Bundle: (Post Apocalyptic BDSM) Page 4
