Captive, Mine(27)

He grunted each time he pounded into her, cranking her head back to expose the soft, vulnerable throat to nips of his teeth, his kisses along her neck feverish, animalistic, tasting her sweetness, the smoothness of her flesh.

She was his now, right or wrong, and they both knew it.

Lily hissed, her teeth gritted together as his fist closed tighter in her hair, holding her still as he slapped her bouncing breasts, right, left, then back again, until those tight nipples were a deep red, little moans drawn from her lips at each sharp blow, his cock plunging deep the entire time.

He touched her clit again, growling at her.

It was all she needed, her hips bucking over and over, her screams echoing in the small room, her legs clasping him so tight he could barely move his hips. He rode her until her screams became breathless moans, her legs loosening then falling back to the floor as he pulled out.

“Lake…”

He pumped his cock quickly, looking down at the inflamed sex, groaning as his orgasm took him over, thick, pearly spurts of semen arcing through the air, crazed lines of viscous seed laying across the bare mound, a rope of it dangling from between her legs, semen mixing with the flood of liquid almost dripping from between the swollen, well-used labia. His vision faded to white for a moment as the hardest spasms rocked him, then he was finally spent, laying a palm across her chest, between her breasts, leaning against her lest his legs collapse.

Lily’s head drooped then, her cheeks coloring beneath the black of her blindfold, her mouth a quivering O, her lips bitten a bright, inflamed red. Lake drew in a sharp breath as he touched the head of his cock to her mons, spreading the glistening semen over her plump mound until it shone with wetness. He wiped his cock on her tender inner thigh, leaving a bright trail of his seed across her skin.

He would’ve liked to teach her to clean his cock properly after he’d fucked her, but there wasn’t time for that now. Instead, he tucked his cock back into his pants and lowered her back to the floorboards. Her legs gave out as he unhooked the strap from the hook, catching her before she could fall.

Lily murmured incoherently as he carried her back to the bed. A fresh tear broke from under the blindfold as he drew the sheets back up her naked, trembling body. He smeared the tear across her cheek with his thumb, making sure she knew he’d seen it, then brought the salt of it to his tongue, the taste making his newly spent cock begin to stir once more.

Something would have to be done about that blindfold though. He knew Lily well enough to know she’d almost certainly remove it when he wasn’t there. He pictured her frantically pulling it back on as his key rattled in the tumblers of the lock.

He fingered the light switch as he stood in the doorway, looking over at her one last time.

Yes, it was time to show the disobedient captive that there were worse things than blindfolds.

* * *



I waited until I was sure he was gone. He could have been standing in the room watching me for all I knew. Semen dried on my skin, on my belly, between my legs, but at least he hadn’t spanked me. The tenderness had finally faded and I could sit again without having to lean to one side or the other.

Certain I was alone, I brought my hand to the blindfold and pushed it up to my forehead, scanning the room quickly. It was so dark anyway, I don’t even know why he blindfolded me. The only light at all was that sliver beneath the door and the slightly lighter black at the window he’d painted.

My eyes adjusted and I pushed the blanket off. Taking one of the bottles of water he’d left me, I went to the ‘bathroom’ and felt around for the towel he’d left behind. I poured some water onto it and cleaned myself. I smelled of sex, of him and me. I needed a shower badly but the thought of it was in the background somehow. It wasn’t even the idea of escape that kept me busy anymore and that scared me.

Whatever he was doing was working.

Once the bottle was empty, I made my way back to the bed and sat down, touching to make sure I could easily pull the blindfold down when he returned.

My belly growled. The last thing I’d had was one of the protein shakes. I hated those and he kept feeding them to me.

I couldn’t keep track of the time but I must have been in here for a few days. I stood again, stretching my arms over my head, twisting from side to side, moving into a yoga sequence I knew well, but after about five minutes, I gave up and sat down, my eyes hot again with tears. It wasn’t working. Nothing was working.

The darkness was driving me mad.

Pulling my feet up from the floor, I scooted back to the corner so I could lean against the wall. I sat like this for a long time until that little bit of light from the window and the sliver of it beneath the door disappeared and the room was pitch black. I hugged the blanket to myself, no longer able to not take stock of things. Weight like a brick lay heavy in my belly, and I rubbed my palms over my face, my eyes. This was sick. What was happening to me, what he was doing to me was wrong. Sick. My wanting him in spite of that though, that was the sickest of all. I’d read those books where kidnap victims became emotionally attached to their captors and before this, before Lake, I thought I understood it. It made sense to me, as awful and unbelievable as it sounded to any sane, normal person. But now, now that it was me, now that he had me here in this dark room without running water, without even a toilet, coming in, using me, fucking me or feeding me, and my waiting for the next time the door would open and he’d return, it was that that made me truly understand, know what it meant not only with my mind but in every fiber of my being.

I felt, in one word, hopeless, but at the same time, his presence, his simply being here with me, would call things up, would make me feel things I shouldn’t feel, I didn’t understand. And as much as I wanted to hate him, to try to fight or at least resist, I wanted more for him to return. I wanted to hear the key in the lock. I wanted him to talk to me, even if it was a one-word command. Even if it was an order to get the strap. I wanted him. I needed him.

Without thinking, I reached over and switched on the lamp by the bed. I needed to cover my eyes for a minute, but once they had adjusted, I sat back again and waited, my eyes on the door, my heart in my throat. I waited for him, the strap hanging on the wall an omen in my periphery, but even that I didn’t care about. At least he’d be here then.

But when, after I don’t know how long, I heard a loud click and the room was plunged into darkness again, I jumped to my feet, hugging the blanket around me, running to hide in the darkest corner of the room. I listened to the sound of Lake’s heavy boots coming up the front steps, the slight sound of the key in the lock louder than Manhattan traffic at rush hour. The door opened and there he stood, a flashlight in his hand, the residual light of it letting me see the hard look on his face, reminding me when the light shone in my direction to reach up, fingers scrambling to pull the blindfold back down over my eyes.

He made some low sound of disapproval and slammed the door shut behind him. I pushed my back into the wall, my knees already bending into a squat as he approached, my one hand still on the blindfold, the other clutching the blanket to me.

“You wanted me to come, Lily?” he asked, closing his hand over my arm and hauling me to my feet. “Well, here I am. Let’s have some fun.”

“No, Lake!”

He pulled me toward the bed, stripping me of the blanket as he did.

“I’m sorry! I just…”

“Bad girl,” he said, tugging the blindfold off my face and tossing me face down onto the bed without any effort at all. “This what you want?” he asked, hauling me higher on the bed and taking the strap from the wall. “You miss me? You want some attention?”

I fought him, trying to get away even though, really, that was what I wanted. I wanted his attention. And I was getting it.

“Please, Lake. I’m sorry.”

He pulled me up then, bringing his face inches from mine. “Actions speak louder than words,” he said, the light of the flashlight he’d set on the dresser illuminating our corner so I could see his dark eyes boring into mine. “I’m going to teach you now once and for all to do as you’re told.”

I had no words; my mouth was dry, my body trembling as I looked into his eyes, knowing I was getting what I wanted and some sick part of me, even knowing what would come, still wanted it.

“No bonds. Go ahead and fight. I think you need this,” he said, rolling me over onto my belly, his knee digging into my low back as the strap came down hard across my bottom.

He wailed on my ass. I screamed and fought, kicking my legs, flailing my arms, needing the fight more than I realized. He kept on with the strap, though, putting me back in place when I’d manage to get far enough away, not speaking while he strapped me, his breathing as ragged as mine as we fought until, finally spent, I stopped and reached up to take hold of a rung on the headboard and surrendered to it. I dug my nails into my palms when he moved his knee from my back and delivered the final strokes, fast and hard in one line, leaving my ass on fire before the strap hit the floor. The weight of the bed shifted as Lake knelt behind me, between my legs, his fingers gripping my hips to drag them upward.

“You’re fucking wet, Lily,” he said after closing his hand over my sex. With that, he drove hard into my pussy, making me suck in a breath and arch my back up to him. With his cock buried deep inside me, he laid his torso over my back and gripped a handful of hair, dragging my head up and back, his face so close to mine that his sweat dripped down my cheek. “I think you like this. I think you like having your ass strapped hard.”