Jason reviewed his notes upstairs. He had not really switched off the light. Although Janice thought he had left her in darkness, Jason studied her through the cameras while she used her bound hands and body to search the confines of her cage. She was no longer crying, though the arousing fear was evident on her tight features.
Jason usually trained the first girls for pain, as he had more time to work with them. With Janice’s extraordinary, flawless, pale complexion, he could make much more at auction if he trained her for pleasure. Eventually, a master who claimed her would undoubtedly be unable to resist the temptation to mark the porcelain canvas. Ironically, her diet of vegetables and unpolluted farm air that Janice was working so hard to escape had saved her months of painful torment.
Jason reassigned his profile folders. He allowed himself one month to get each girl accustomed to her new situation before adding a new young woman to the stable. He was still deciding the finalists for the upcoming months. It would require several visits to the towns and inconspicuous surveillance to make his decision.
Janice found the water bowl and explored with her tongue. Her mouth was being held open and she tried to rub the gag loose on the bars. It was fixed tightly, so she worked hard to scoop and swallow some water to relieve her parched throat. Janice had eaten half of her sandwich for lunch and she had intended to eat the other half on the way home. Even with the minimal food in her stomach, hunger had not gripped her. She was much too frightened. After she drank until her tongue was exhausted, she curled up on the mattress. The cage was so small that her head and feet pressed against the bars.
What does he want? Oh, god. Sex? He called me a slave. Janice had run her fingers through the bars of the cage door, although she already knew it was locked. Maybe if I do what he wants, he’ll let me go. Oh, god. I’m blind. Why? Why would he do this to me? Visions of school in the fall… her studies… the impossibility now was overwhelming. Janice cried herself to sleep, dreams of her future dissolving with each teardrop.
Janice woke to the sound of the key in the cage lock and she pushed back against the bars, whimpering. “Come, J.” Jason waited, and she continued to tremble against the far bars of the enclosure.
Oh, god. Somebody. Somebody please help me. Janice swung her head, as if turning a certain way would give her back her sight. A hand wrapped around her ankle and began to pull her. “Aaah. Eeese.” Her hands frantically reached out and she tried to grip the bar behind her. Her fingertips slipped off the metal and her bottom skidded onto concrete. Hands grabbed her arms and lifted her up. “Eeese. Eeese.”
Jason ignored her garbled pleading. Her eyes were wide with fright and the pale blue contacts gave her a startled, doll-like appearance. It was still far better than the blindfolds he had used before. Jason pulled her to a stand and she sobbed, shaking uncontrollably while he stroked down her throat and lifted her breasts, cupping them in his hands and stroking her nipples to hardness. He was pleased with her response through her fear.
Jason stepped back and quietly sat down in a chair. It was best to let her get thoughts of escape out of the way so that she would concentrate on her training. It took a few moments for her to reach one bare foot out, nervously sweeping the floor in front of her, before taking a step.
Oh, god. He’s here. I know he’s watching me. It took all the courage she could gather to take tentative steps forward. Janice sniffled and gulped sobs while she slowly walked forward. Where is he? Why isn’t he stopping me? Her foot hit the leg of the table, and she shrieked and stepped back. Janice was steadily crying while she changed direction and began to move forward again. She knew the man was toying with her, but she could not resist the futile effort to try to save herself.
The toes of her right foot stubbed into a bolt securing the whipping post, and she pulled her injured foot back and tried to move forward. She was facing cabinets on a wall and turned sideways, letting her hip brush along the edge as she traveled. She crashed to her knees when she tripped on a wheeled chair, and while it skidded away she remained on the floor sobbing heart-wrenching cries. I can’t. I can’t get out of here. He’ll stop me if I get near a door. He knows I can’t leave. This is why he blinded me. I’m completely at his mercy, with no way to fight back or plan to escape.
Jason waited until he was sure she was not going to move again. “Come to me,” he demanded. “Follow the sound of my voice, J. I don’t care if you crawl, but you have thirty seconds to get to me.”
Janice turned towards the man’s steady, deep voice. She remained on the floor by the cabinets and cried. “Eeese.”
“Twenty-five seconds.”
Janice wobbled to a stand and took a hesitant step towards him. Please. Please, Lucille. Please let someone have seen me being taken.
“Twenty seconds.”
Janice continued faltering steps, sidling around furniture that crossed her path. It was terrifying. To have to walk to the man who abducted her? Please, mister. Please don’t hurt me.
“Ten seconds.”
Janice jumped. The voice was closer, but she still had several feet to go. She kept walking, stopping to check the ground in front of her with a sweeping leg, her wracking sobs increasing with each step.
“Five seconds.”
Janice risked two steps forward and she bumped into a blue-jeaned leg. She sobbed in relief.
“Kneel.”
Janice sank to the floor. Her trembling legs could not support her any longer, and it gave her the opportunity to fold her pussy protectively between her thighs. There was no way to cover her breasts, and Janice was relieved she did not have to watch him staring at them. She drew back when he cupped them again and he tightened his grip around them.
“Be still,” he demanded.
“Eeese.” Let me go. Oh. Oh, please let me go. His gripping hands drew her towards him, tightening even more painfully until she shrieked and pushed into his legs.
Jason pulled two rubber clamps out of his pocket and laid them on his lap. He was not sure how easily the creamy flesh and dark nipples would bruise, so the first few days he would experiment. Fingers plucked at the trembling girl’s nipples, pinching lightly until they formed erect firm nubs. She cried the entire time with tears slipping down from her frozen stare.
Janice had had a single boyfriend for two months in her freshman college year. The two fumbled their way through a few sexual encounters, and then the boy dropped out of school and moved back home. She never heard from him again, but she realized he had distracted her from focusing on her studies. She let her imagined future with the boy disappear from her thoughts, and never bothered searching for a replacement.
Now, she remembered how Robby had liked her breasts, too. He liked to fit a big fat nipple into his mouth and suck on her breast while his shaking hand snaked down to her crotch. The sensation on her boob had given her a tingling feeling that seemed to reach deep inside her.
This man’s rapid plucking pinches were causing the same aroused response. Janice knew that her face had to be flushed red with humiliation. At least the man did not know how her pussy had begun to cramp and leak. God, it was so embarrassing. Janice was afraid that if he stopped, he would do something else and learn that his unwanted ministrations were turning her on. The pinching fingers finally halted their relentless assault and Janice continued to kneel. Her breathing had turned to small panting gasps of fear… and a hint of something more.
Jason watched her face, fixed blindly on his stomach in panic and anticipation. He centered the opened clamp bars at the base of each protruding tip and let go.
Janice felt something press into her nipples, and then the surprised shock of clamping bars gripped her sensitive tissue in a strong sharp press. “Aaah.” She instinctively drew back, but the hands clasped around the meat of her breasts again.
“Be still,” he warned.
Janice began shaking her head, wailing and twisting in his grip. “Oh. Ow.” She screamed and continued to writhe while his hands held her breas
ts. Her nipples felt as though they were being sliced off of her.
After a few minutes, her struggles ceased and she knelt in front of him with her head hanging. Drool slipped from her opened mouth in threads that pooled on her thighs while she cried. One hand released her breast, and Janice shook even harder when she heard him lower his zipper.
Oh, Mom. Oh, god. Someone has to find me. A hand pressed the back of her head towards his lap, and Janice shuddered when she felt the tip of his penis slip into her mouth. No. Oh, god. Please.
“Use your tongue, J,” Jason instructed. It was already apparent the girl was panicked, and unaccustomed to having a cock lodged into her mouth. “As soon as I come, I’ll remove the clamps on your nipples.”
She had no choice. Janice was certain he would leave the devices crushing her nipples until she followed his demand. She cried and whined while her tongue stroked the velvet-skinned length of him, until his shaft rippled inside her mouth and began to jerk and throb its contents deep towards the back of her throat. The entire time, one of his hands sifted gently through her curls, encouraging and calming her with assurances that he could be somewhat kind if she followed his demands. The clamps were a reminder that he had no objections to inflicting pain if she balked at his orders.
* * * * *
Janice was the lucky one; one of the girls to be coaxed to provide pleasure with simple equipment that caused slow torture while leaving no evidence of their use. Within a month, and primarily with the use of rubber coated clamps attached to her nipples, clit, or labia, she willingly spread her legs, lapped him with aggressive, strong strokes, or bent forward while he speared her tiny star. She shivered with relief when he was pleased with her performance… and wailed in agony when he was not.
One day, he came down with her meal and slid the bowl into her cage. The ring had been removed from her mouth a few days ago, and she dutifully replied, “Thank you, Master.” Even in darkness, she knew where in the cage her bowls would be. She was somewhat relieved when she heard the door close and locked again. Hours passed before he returned… and he was not alone.
* * * * *
July 5th - Police have reported the disappearance of a nineteen year old student from Jasper Community Junior College. Janice Clarke’s car was found disabled in the parking lot for the Language Arts building by her employer. There was no indication of a struggle near the locked automobile, though the police originally considered that a flat tire may have been a ruse used to keep Ms. Clarke from leaving.
Her employer informed authorities, that the tire had also been flat when she was leaving for school that morning. Careful investigation substantiated the claim when the tire showed it had recently been filled with a chemical sealant that had apparently failed.
At this time, the police have no leads or indications concerning the possibility that Ms. Clarke may have been abducted. Anyone with information as to the whereabouts of Ms. Clarke, are urged to call the Jasper Police Department. - N. Sorrell; Napier Herald Newspaper.
Nicki leaned back in her chair after checking her article for mistakes before sending it through copyediting. She had worked the police beat for three years, and the infrequent stories of missing young women were always the most difficult. So far, all of them had been found after weekend binges or embarrassing trysts with lovers, vacations they forgot to mention to curious neighbors, or simply giving up on college and returning home.
This one seemed to be different. The girl had now been missing for five days and apparently not big into the social scene. By all reports, she was dependable and reliable, as well as sporting good grades in school. Janice Clarke did not fit the profile of a young woman who would take off, much less abandoning her car.
Nicki reached into her purse for her pills. The anxious feeling in her stomach was already causing her fingers to tremble. It would take a warm bath and two glasses of wine to allow her to sleep around the nightmare of feeling herself smothered inside a black cloth bag.
Chapter III
It was four in the morning, and Amy yawned as she pulled her car into her Arbor Heights apartment complex. She had taken a second floor one-bedroom unit on the end to save money. With her waitress job during the day and delivering the morning edition of the Napier Herald Newspaper during pre-dawn hours, she managed to have enough funds to live alone without asking her parents for assistance.
Even though she was only twenty, she had already bounced through six unsuccessful attempts to share quarters with roommates. It never worked out, because of the noise, the clutter, or endless rotations of men walking into the kitchen naked while she tried to grab a cup of coffee before work. Yuck.
Her parents tried to talk her into an exclusive all-girl college back east. For a petite little thing… Amy was five foot two and one hundred and five pounds soaking wet… she had a stubborn streak a mile long. It was not so much that she was spoiled. Amy felt she had proved that point by going it alone. It was more that she liked things a certain way. Strict rules of a rich bitch college were not anything she was interested in. So far, she really was not interested in anything specific.
Amy had been raised with the proverbial silver spoon in her mouth. This would have worked fine if she had inherited her mother’s personality and fallen into the world of debutants, gossip, and shopping. Instead, the little ‘firecracker’, as her dad referred to her, was much more like her father. Even though he enjoyed the old family fortune, he was independent with business enterprises and recreational interests.
Once she was of age, there was no way Amy was going to follow her mother’s carefully designed future for her. Even though her dad offered to support her financially in any reasonable business venture… one that he considered worthy… Amy had struck out on her own, working two jobs to prove she could make it without compromising to their ideals. She figured that she would recognize her true vocation when she stumbled upon it, and perhaps then approach her father for backing.
She left on her nighttime mission at two o’clock, wearing her long pajama bottoms and a sleeping tank top. Amy threaded her shoulder length blonde hair through her ball cap and the ponytail swung behind her as she tossed the newspapers out the car window. She used to waste time dressing to drive the route, but when she showed up at the shopping center to pick up her stack of newspapers, she noticed that half the people were in robes and such. The tired travelers had become a chummy little group over the past year, exchanging pleasantries and jokes while they cut the strings on their stacks, rolled and banded the papers, and, heaven forbid, spent an irritating extra half hour sliding them into plastic sleeves on mornings that promised rain.
Amy was slightly distracted when she climbed out of the car and her deep blue eyes quickly scanned the shadows by the side staircase that wound practically to the door of her apartment. Brad had informed her that he was moving and he told her his route would be available. It was a smaller territory next to hers and it would only add an hour to her early morning drive. She could pick up an extra one hundred fifty dollars a week, and Amy was trying to decide if the loss of sleep would be worth it. Her lights were already turned off at nine o’clock in order to get enough broken rest to show up at seven in the morning for the breakfast crowd at the restaurant.
The young woman had a lot on her mind when she locked her car, tucked her paper under her arm, and walked towards the side of the building. Out of habit, Amy kept the keys protruding through her knuckles as a makeshift weapon. She had lost her pepper spray six months ago and had not bothered to replace it. Nothing ever happened at Arbor Heights, except for a few domestic arguments that were quickly squashed.
Her sneaker landed on the first step and Amy had a sensation of a vacuum… or maybe rushing… behind her. She turned in surprise as an arm wrapped under her chest and lifted her in the air. At the same time, a damp rag covered her face from just under her eyes to her chin.
What the hell? Before she inhaled or attempted to scream, she swung the hand with the keys and aimed at th
e pressing cloth on her mouth. Scraping furiously, she did take a breath. As her mind fogged into a confused blur, she realized the hand she attacked wore a glove. Should have gone for the eyes. Amy slipped into a blackness that would last five months.
J knelt by her cage door when she heard the Master’s footsteps coming down the stairs. Her knuckles gripped the bars while she waited anxiously for his order. Jason had hooked her wrist cuffs to the front of a belt locked around her waist to allow her to stretch them from the confining position behind her back. It also allowed her to reach between her pussy lips and stroke herself, which was something he encouraged her to do.
The man had never hurt her, except when she balked at one of his requests. On several occasions, he caressed her while she performed his erotic demands and he said words of how pleased he was. The rare occurrences of comfort became Janice’s focus. As time passed in the oppressive darkness, the Master’s voice and calming brushes became a craving desire for her. He called her J, in an attempt to remove her from identifying with her ‘outside’ life. Now, Janice even thought of herself in the monosyllabic term.
Across the room, she heard a soft thump of something being laid on the table. J was getting better at navigating the room, though she had no idea what sort of furniture made up the maze of the floor space. She was familiar with a few frightening apparatus, though the Master never really hurt her. Mostly, he just wanted to have sex with her and make her climax. J felt her pussy squeeze wetly with the thought of his hands caressing her, and her fingertips dropped to spread her labia and brush her slit while she listened.
She heard him cross the room to her and he leaned down. “You are to be still, J.”
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