This is the first installment of a story that's been riding around in my head rent-free for the last couple of years. I am not a writer, so yes, there is a bit of A.I. use here. Just a heads up, this going to be quite a long story when I finish all of the chapters. I hope you like it.
It's 8:30 in the evening on a Tuesday in middle America. Only half an hour before I can close up the dollar store. We haven't had a customer in over an hour, but you watch, someone always comes in at the last minute. Standing behind the counter, my attention is divided between my phone and watching Tanner stock the shelves.
As I glance up from my phone, I catch Tanner's eyes meeting mine for a brief moment before he quickly looks away, his cheeks flushing slightly. I smile to myself, wondering if he's aware of the way I've been sneaking peeks at him all evening. He's been working here for a few weeks now, and I have to admit, he's been a breath of fresh air. Efficient, friendly, and always willing to lend a hand. And, as I mentioned, not hard to look at either. His messy brown hair and bright blue eyes make him look like he just stepped out of a college brochure.
As I stand there, lost in thought, I notice Tanner pause in his stocking, his eyes drifting back to mine for a fleeting moment. I feel a flutter in my chest, and I quickly look away, pretending to be engrossed in my phone. But I can sense his gaze lingering on me.
I take a deep breath and try to shake off the feeling, reminding myself that I'm his supervisor, and he's just a young employee.
As I stand there, trying to shake off the feeling, I'm suddenly aware of my own appearance. I glance down at my worn jeans and faded store polo, feeling a twinge of self-consciousness. At just shy of 4'3", I've always been a bit self-aware of my height, and my extra pounds don't exactly make me feel like a knockout. I push a stray strand of hair behind my ear, feeling a bit frumpy in comparison to Tanner's effortless charm.
Suddenly, I notice that Tanner is standing right there, his eyes glued to my chest. I look up from my phone, and he knows he's been caught. He quickly looks away, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. I can feel my own cheeks warming, and I quickly avert my gaze, trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism.
I clear my throat and say, "Tanner, is there something you need?"
"Ummm. Nat. What is that short for?" he asks, his eyes darting back to mine as he pretends to be looking at my name tag. Nice move, kid, I think to myself, trying to stifle a smile. I raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his attempt to break the tension.
"It's short for Natalia," I reply.
"Oh. That's very pretty," he says, his voice low and sincere. "It sounds very Eastern European. Is your family from there or something?" he asks, his curiosity getting the better of him. I feel a smile spreading across my face as I nod, enjoying the way he pronounces "something" with a slight drawl.
"It is," I reply, a smile spreading across my face. "But no. My birthday is on Christmas, and it's like Russian for Christmas, or something."
Tanner's eyes widen in surprise, and he takes a step back, his hands stuffed in his pockets. "Wow, that's really cool," he says, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer before he looks away.
"Yeah, it's pretty unique," I say, trying to sound casual. "So, Tanner, was there something you needed?"
Tanner looks up, his eyes locking onto mine as he asks, "Oh yeah. Do I work tomorrow?" I glance down at the schedule, my fingers brushing against the worn edge of the counter as I lift it up to check. The fluorescent lights above us hum softly, casting a faint buzz over the quiet store.
"Yes," I reply, as I scan the schedule. "And you have to work tomorrow with Lexi." I smile sheepishly, knowing that Lexi can be a bit of a handful sometimes. Tanner's lets out an audible groan, and I feel a pang of affection for him.
"I, on the other hand, am off for the next three days," I remark, setting the schedule back down on the counter. Tanner's face lights up with excitement, and I can't help but smile at his enthusiasm.
"That's awesome, Nat! Do you have any plans?" he asks, his eyes shining with curiosity.
"Going on a roadtrip. Why? Do you want to come?" I joke.
He gives me a kind of ackward look. "No, I don't think my parents would approve of that."
"Just kidding. No. Probably just raiding with my guild, as usual," I say, with a shrug.
Tanner's face lights up with interest. "You play video games?" he asks, his eyes shining with excitement.
"Yeah, I do," I reply, feeling a sense of camaraderie with him. "I'm in a guild, and we usually raid a few times a week."
"That's so cool," Tanner says, his eyes wide with admiration. "I've always wanted to get into gaming, but my parents would never allow it."
Tanner laughs, the sound warm and rich, and I find myself smiling in response. "Ok, I'm going to wrap up on those shelves before we close," he says, turning to head back to the stockroom. As he walks away, I catch a glimpse of the way his jeans fit across his hips. I shake my head, chiding myself for getting distracted. I've got to maintain some level of professionalism, after all.
I watch as Tanner efficiently restocks the shelves, his movements quick and precise. He's got a natural talent for this kind of work, and I've been impressed with how quickly he's picked up the ropes.
I catch myself thinking that I'm not exactly helping the situation by wearing this polo with the buttons down. I mean, I can't really blame him for staring - it's my own fault, really. When I'm not in my work uniform, I do tend to wear very low-cut shirts, and my D size breasts wouldn't look particularly big on a taller woman, but on a short girl like me, they look huge. I've always been a bit self-conscious about my figure, but at the same time, I've learned to own it. Still, I wonder if maybe I should try to dress a bit more modestly around Tanner, just to avoid any awkwardness.
Work relationships, in particular, just cause problems, I think to myself. Boy, do I know about relationship problems. I got married in my early twenties, and at first, it was great. The memories of our whirlwind romance still bring a faint smile to my face. But as the newness and the excitement wore off, so did our feelings for each other. I didn't help that he couldn't match my libido, and the tension that built up between us eventually became too much to bear.
We stuck it out for almost five years, him and I. But eventually we realized it just wasn't working. We broke it off and are still friends. I get a Christmas card every now and then where he shows off his wife and kids.
I've never been able to hold down a real relationship for more than a year. The people I've dated just haven't worked out. I've had my fair share of heartbreaks, but I've always tried to move on and learn from my experiences.
Just as I'm lost in thought, the front door swings open and a huge bear of a man walks in, his broad frame filling the entrance. He's dressed in a white tee shirt, his thick beard and mustache a little unkempt. He says, "After you, mi'lady." He steps aside, revealing a woman with long, curly reddish brown hair and a bright smile. My heart skips a beat as I recognize her laughter immediately, and my eyes widen in surprise as she walks into the store.
It's Nikki, my ex.
As Nikki's eyes lock onto mine, her bright smile falters, and she looks like she's been punched in the gut. Her boyfriend, still oblivious to the tension, stumbles forward, his arm still wrapped around her waist, and slurs, "Hey, sweetheart, can we get some chew behind the counter?" He's clearly drunk, and I can smell the stench of cheap beer wafting off him from across the counter.
"Classy," I think to myself.
Nikki's eyes are glued to the floor, and I can see the shock and discomfort written all over her face. She looks like she's been caught off guard, and I can tell she's trying to process the situation.
I feel like I need to say something, it's already awkward enough. "How's it going Nikki?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady and my expression neutral.
Nikki's eyes widen in surprise, and she stammers for a moment before regaining her composure. "Hey, Nat," she says, her voice strained. "It's been a while."
I nod, trying to keep the conversation light. "Yeah, it has," I say, my eyes flicking to her boyfriend, who is still standing there, swaying slightly.
As I stand behind the counter, trying to maintain a neutral expression, my mind starts to wander back to the past. I think about Nikki and her family, who lived across the street from my mom's house. I remember her older brother, Ryan, who was my first boyfriend. He was a senior, and I was a sophomore when we started messing around. I recall the way he took my virginity, and how it felt like the whole world had changed. But what happened next is what really sets my heart racing. The summer after he graduated, Ryan joined the military, and Nikki and I... well, let's just say we picked up right where I left off with her brother.
It sounded about as fucked up then as it does now. But it's hard to argue having a fuck buddy who lives across the way, especially when you don't have a car.
Nikki is a year younger than me, but we broke it off long before I graduated. Her junior year she fell in with the wrong crowd and got herself addicted to pain meds. Her parents got her straightened out the summer in some high dollar rehab center. I never understood how her family could have afforded that and her college afterwards. I know I had some doubts about whether that was going to work out after she left the nest, but Nikki did it. In fact, she did the whole career, husband, and kids thing. But once an addict, always an addict, they say, and it got so bad that she lost all of that. I had heard that she was trying to get herself clean, but I can see that is clearly not working.
Given her choice in lifestyle, Nikki's face still hasn't changed much from when we were together in high school. She still has the cute freckled face, wide mouth, and luscious lips. But it's the lips below I am thinking of when he interrupts me.
"Um. Oslo Red," he reminds me, snapping me back to the present. I glance at the clock on the wall and sigh. It's almost closing time.
"Sure thing," I say, turning back to Nikki and her boyfriend. I grab the packet of chewing tobacco from the shelf and place it on the counter in front of them.
While he's paying, I notice the cute dress Nikki is wearing and how low-cut the top is. She is clearly trying to impress. But who? This guy? I know he's got it good. I'm sure he's getting blowies by the dozen. "Guys. Find a girl with an oral fixation and keep her," I always say. For me blowjobs are just "Meh." They are a means to an end sometimes.
I wonder if he knows his girlfriend used to be into girls or if she's kept that secret from him.
I quickly lock the door behind them and lean against it, taking a deep breath. The air is cool against my skin, and I feel a sense of relief wash over me. It's a minute before closing, and I need to finish up a few things before I can leave.
I turn around and grab the broom, starting to sweep the floor.
As I work, I can't help but think about the strange encounter with Nikki and her boyfriend. It's been years since I last saw her, and I never expected to run into her here.
Tanner and I walk out to the parking lot together, our footsteps echoing against the concrete. The night air is cool, and I shiver slightly as I lock the door behind us. We both sigh, tired after a long day of work.
"Well. Good night," Tanner says and gets in his car, starting the engine. As he drives away, I watch him go, feeling a strange mix of emotions. I'm glad to be alone, but at the same time, I'm a little disappointed that he didn't stick around.
I glance at my phone, checking the time. It's already past eleven, and I should be getting home soon. I pull out my keys from my pocket and unlock the car, climbing inside.
Perhaps, if I'm lucky, that guy I've been chatting with will be online tonight. I never seem to fail to be able to rub one out with those sessions. I don't know if it's the sexual stuff or if it's the fantasy of being taken away from all of this that gets me off more.
I drive ten minutes across town to my apartment and park the car under the car port. I sometimes visit with my Russian landlady after I get off work. I think she rented this place to me because of my name alone. But we've become fast friends, her and I. Last year I lost my mother, and she lost her husband. Both of us have been a great comfort to each other. When her kids come in to visit on the holidays, she always invites me down as one of the family.
All her lights are off tonight so I assume she is in bed already.
All the better, I think, I'm not sure whether I am in the mood for company anyway. I start walking up the steps of the red brick building to my apartment which is right above hers. I get the feeling I'm being watched, but I shake it off. Nerves after a long day, I think.
As I'm putting my key in the door, I'm thinking to myself whether I want to get on my game tonight or if I just want to go to bed, when I feel a tap on my shoulder.
I'd like to say it was lights out, but in fact the exact opposite happened. My eyes are suddenly assaulted by a blight light and it takes a while before I am able to take in my surroundings. I seem to now be in a room that is blinding white with only a blank white wall ahead of me.
I am sitting on a metallic chair in the center of the room. My feet, barefoot, are cuffed to the floor at the ankle causing my legs to be spread apart. My wrists are cuffed together and attached to a chain hanging from the ceiling. My chest heaves up and down as I take in my surroundings, trying to make sense of it all.
My heart is racing, and my breathing is heavy. I try to calm myself down, but the adrenaline rush is too strong. My mind is racing with thoughts about what exactly happened and what might happen next.
As I struggle to get free from the restraints, but I'm not able to get myself free in any way.
Minutes tick by, and still, no one comes. My body is on edge.
Finally, I hear a door open and shut, and I hear a male voice behind me.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," he says, his voice deep and smooth. I try to turn around, but my restraints won't allow it. I can feel his presence looming over me.
"Don't worry," he says, reaching out to caress my cheek gently. His touch startles me and I jump. "I'm here now."
As he circles around me, I get my first glimpse of him. He's not overly tall. Taller than me. But everyone is. He is well-built, however, and has deep dark eyes. He is dressed in black leather from head to toe, which for some reason I find funny despite the situation. His tight leather pants leave no doubt he is turned on. As I draw my eyes away from his crotch and back to his face, his smirk tells me that he knows exactly what I was looking at.
Even though my mind is racing, I try to play it cool. Replying sarcastically, "Pffft. Nice outfit."
"This? Oh, this is just my usual attire," he replies, his voice deep and smooth.
He stops in front of me, leaning in close enough that I can feel his breath on my neck. "That brattiness will cost you."
I feel my resolve slowing starting to break and I blurt out, "Who are you and what do you want with me?" I demand.
He chuckles softly, his warm breath brushing against my ear. "Oh, I have plans for you, alright," he whispers.
Before I can react, he grabs my chin roughly, forcing me to look into his eyes. They're dark and intense and filled with hunger.
"You're going to be my little toy," he says, his voice low and threatening. "And I'm going to do whatever I want with you."
He walks again behind me, and I struggle to see what he is doing. I see a flash of metal and I panic thinking it's knife but realize it's just a pair of scissors. In his other hand is some fabric. "We'll have question time later," he says as he wads up the fabric and stuffs it into my mouth.
He begins to cut off my pant legs one at a time very slowly. I try to yell and resist, but my restraints hold me in place, and the gag muffles my pleas. He cuts through the fabric effortlessly, revealing my white lace panties underneath.
"These are cute," he says, reaching out to touch them. His fingers brush against my bare skin, sending shivers down my spine.
He walks away again, leaving me alone with my thoughts. My heart is racing, and shamefully I can feel the heat between my legs growing.
I try to shift in my seat, but the cuffs keep me in place. My shirt is still intact, but I can feel the heat from my body against the cold metal chair.
Suddenly, I hear the sound of scissors again. I look up to see him standing in front of me, holding a pair of sharp blades. My breath hitches as he approaches, his eyes dark with desire.
He begins to cut my shirt off, revealing my ample cleavage in my white lace bra. The cool air hits my exposed skin, causing goosebumps to rise.
Then, without ceremony. He cuts my bra off, one strap at a time, teasing me as he exposes more of my body. He grabs the fabric and tosses it in the pile. His eyes roam over my naked breasts, and I can see the desire in his gaze.
Suddenly he grabs both of breasts giving them a slight squeeze. "We are going to have a lot of fun with these, aren't we?"
He licks his lips, his eyes dark with lust. "Mmm, you're even more beautiful than I imagined," he leans in close, his breath hot against my skin as he whispers, "I’m going to enjoy playing with you."
He begins to stroke my nipples and give them a little tug now and then. My nipples, already hard from the cool air, betray me by stiffening even more. I almost let out a soft little moan, but I stop myself, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. My nipples have always been the quickest way to get into my pants. My body betrays me, and he knows it. He chuckles, pleased with the effect he's having on me. He moves down my body, kissing and licking every inch of skin he exposes. He takes one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking and nibbling on it. I can't help it, I arch my back, pushing my chest towards him, craving more of his touch. He switches to the other nipple, giving it the same attention. I moan louder, my body tingling with pleasure. He continues to explore my body, his hands roaming over my curves, igniting a fire within me.
Finally, he finishes his task and cuts my panties off revealing my now really wet pussy. He kneels down in front of me, his eyes locked on my exposed pussy. He runs his tongue along the seam of my pussy lips, teasing me. I gasp, my body tensing up. I try to close my legs and scoot away from him, but it's no use. I can't escape his hungry mouth. He slowly pushes his tongue inside me, exploring my wetness. I throw my head back, my breath coming in short gasps. He licks and sucks on my clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body.
Just as I'm about to climax, he stops. "Oh my god! Why did he stop?" I think to myself. All I can do is whimper in disappointment, my body still throbbing with need. He chuckles darkly, his eyes never leaving my pussy. "You're so close, aren't you?" he asks, his voice low and threatening.
I refuse to admit it, but he can see my eyes welling up with tears of frustration. He smirks, his fingers tracing the outline of my lips. "Good," he says, his voice thick with lust. "Because you're going to stay right there."
He stands up and steps away from me, leaving me alone once again.
I'm still naked and vulnerable, restrained in the cold, sterile room. I can hear the sound of him rummaging around outside the door. He returns a moment later, holding a black trash bag. "You won't be needing these anymore," he says, his voice low and menacing. He reaches down and gathers up my discarded clothes, stuffing them carelessly into the bag. I watch him, my heart pounding in my chest, as he ties the bag up tightly and sets it aside. He turns back to me, his eyes dark with lust and desire. "You're mine now," he growls again, his voice sending shivers down my spine.
I gulp, my throat dry with fear and anticipation. He smirks, clearly amused by my helplessness. He walks to the side of the room, and I hear the whirl of an electric motor. My arms, already lifted above my head, begin to be stretched more towards the ceiling. I have no choice but to stand up. My feet still firmly attached to the floor. He grabs the metal chair and slides it to the side of the room.
He steps closer, his eyes locked on mine. He reaches out and trails his fingers down my chest, teasing my nipples. I shiver under his touch. He leans in close, his hot breath tickling my ear.
"Let's get a good look at this big, beautiful backside," he teases.
I gulp, my heart racing in my chest. I can feel the heat of his breath on my neck as he walks around me, taking in my naked form. He stops behind me, his hands running down my arms, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin.
He steps closer, his body pressing against mine. I can feel his erection through his leather pants, hard and insistent against my backside. He grunts, clearly aroused by my naked form. His hands move to my hips, gripping them tightly as he pulls me back against him. I whimper, my body reacting to his touch despite my fear.
As he steps away from me again, I brace myself for what's to come. His hands once again begin caressing my ass. "Your ass is delicious, but I think it could do with some more color," he says as he walks away.
I hear the whirl of an electric motor again, and my heart races in anticipation. He lifts me even higher so that I am on my tip toes. When he returns, he's holding a leather paddle. It's thick and solid, with holes punched through the handle for grip. He smirks at my wide-eyed terror.
"Don't worry little one," he smirks. "Just a little taste. I know that this is not what you are into. Yet..." he trails off. "Soon you will come to enjoy it, I'm sure." He leans in close, his hot breath tickling my ear. "And you will beg for more." His words send shivers down my spine, but I can't deny the thrill I feel at his dominance. He steps back, his eyes dark with lust and desire. "You're mine now."
With that, he brings the leather paddle down hard on my exposed ass. The pain is immediate and intense, but I try not to show it. I grit my teeth and force myself to remain still. He watches me closely, waiting for a reaction.
"Did you like that?" he asks, his voice laced with amusement. I shake my head, trying to deny the pleasure I'm starting to feel. He chuckles darkly and strikes me again, this time on the other cheek. I gasp, the sting of the blow almost too much to bear. Tears begin to well up in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.
He continues until my ass is a nice shade of pink. I can feel the heat radiating from my sore cheeks, but I don't dare move. He steps back, admiring his handiwork. "Not bad," he mutters, his eyes still fixed on my ass.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small vibrator. I gulp, my heart racing in my chest. He smirks at my reaction. "Don't worry, little one," he says softly. "This won't hurt."
He presses the vibrator against my clit, and I let out a soft moan.
He smirks, his eyes dark with lust. "You like that, don't you?" he whispers, his breath tickling my ear. This time I do nod, unable to speak. He continues to tease my clit, bringing me closer and closer to orgasm. I try to squirm away from him, trying to get away from the intense pleasure.
Suddenly, he stops. I let out a soft cry of frustration. "Not yet," he murmurs, his voice low and commanding. He pulls the vibrator away from my aching clit and stands up. I watch him, my heart racing in my chest.
He grabs the chair again and places it behind me. I once again hear the whirl of the motor, and he orders me to sit down. I sit gingerly down on the chair, my butt cheeks still a little sore from the thrashing.
"I'll be back", he smiles and leaves the room again, grabbing my discarded clothes as he goes. I hear the door click shut behind him, leaving me alone in the sterile room once more.
My body is still tingling with anticipation, despite the sting of his leather paddle. I sigh and lean back in the chair, my mind wandering to thoughts of escape. But I have no clue where I am or where I would even run to. I look down at my exposed body, my heavy breasts jiggling slightly with each breath. I bite my lip, feeling a familiar ache between my legs. I try to ignore it, focusing on finding a way out of this predicament.
I fiddle with my restraints, trying to find a way to free myself. But they're too tight, and I can't move. Time seems to stand still as I wait for him to return.
As I wait, my mind wanders to the feeling of his hand on my ass, the way the leather paddle made me gasp and squirm. I try to push the thoughts away, but I can't deny the intense arousal building inside me. There is no denying the intense pleasure I felt, but I'm still a little shamed that it affected me so. I try to push those thoughts away, focusing on the anticipation of who this mysterious man is and what he might do next.
The door clicks open, and he steps back into the room. He smirks at me, taking in my exposed body. "Well, well," he says, running his fingers over my restrained wrists. "It seems you're still quite aroused, little one." I look away, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He chuckles darkly and walks over to the chair. He runs his fingers through my hair, pulling my head back gently. "Don't be ashamed," he whispers. "It's natural to respond to pleasure." He pulls the fabric out of my mouth. In his hand is a sport bottle that he offers to me. I shake my head "No." He shrugs and sets the bottle down on the table.
"You have some questions for me," he says more of a statement than a question, his voice low and menacing. I nod, my heart racing in my chest. "Go ahead, ask away."
I swallow hard, trying to find the courage to speak. "Who are you?" I manage to whisper. He chuckles darkly, running his fingers through my hair. "That doesn't matter, little one," he says. "All you need to know is that I'm your new master and you are going to be staying with me for a while."
I shiver at his words, my body responding to his dominance. "What do you want from me?" I ask, my voice trembling.
He chuckles darkly, his hand trailing down my back. "I told you before. I want to play with you, little one," he whispers. "To make you my perfect toy."
I try to protest, but he silences me with a kiss.
His lips are soft and warm, his tongue probing my mouth insistently. I try to push him away, but he's too strong. He pulls back, his eyes dark with lust.
"Why did you kidnap me?" I ask again, my voice trembling.
He leans in close, his lips brushing against my ear. "I've been watching you for a while now," he whispers. "I see the way you live your life, day in and day out. Stuck at a dead-end job. Always wanting... No... needing more. No family. Your only friends are on the internet. This is not a kidnapping," he chuckles. "It's a rescue."
I shudder at his words, my body trembling with fear and arousal. "What do you mean?" I ask, my voice shaking. "I'm not a damsel in distress. I can take care of myself."
He chuckles darkly, his hand trailing down my body. "Oh, I'm sure you can," he says. "But that's not what I want. I want to show you pleasure like you've never experienced before."
I shake my head. "You can't keep me here! Someone will look for me!" I say, my voice trembling with fear and desperation.
He chuckles darkly, stepping closer to me. "Not for a while they won't," he says. "You have the next three days off work, remember?"
He gives me a few moments to digest his words. How could he possibly know that? I suddenly realize just how much knows about me and I know nothing about him.
"You are the one I've been chatting with online?" I exclaim, my voice trembling with shock. "Aren't you?" He nods, his lips curling into a smile.
"Guilty as charged," he chuckles.
"I knew you were perfect for me the moment we started chatting," he purrs, his hands trailing down my body. "You were so open and honest about your desires. About how vanilla sex was becoming boring and how much you craved submission and control." He chuckles darkly, running his fingers through my hair. "I knew I had to have you."
I swallow hard, my heart pounding in my chest. "But this isn't what I want. I never agreed to..." I trail off. He chuckles again, his hands moving to my breasts. "Oh, I think it is," he says, his fingers squeezing my nipples roughly. I gasp at the sudden touch, my body reacting to his dominance. "I've been watching you for a while now," he whispers. "I know all about your fantasies." He leans in close, his lips brushing against mine. "And I'm going to give you everything you've been craving." His lips capture mine in a heated kiss, his tongue probing my mouth insistently.
"True, we could have discussed it beforehand. But what would have been the fun in that," he smiles. "Give me three days," he continues. "And if you don't agree this is what you want, you'll be right back in your crummy old life like nothing ever happened. Can you do that?"
It's not really like I have a choice, so I nod silently.
"Good girl," he purrs.
I shudder at his words, my heart racing in my chest. "But why me?" I whisper. "There are so many other women out there. Younger, beautiful women..."
He smirks, his eyes dark with lust. "Because you're perfect for me," he says.
"A self-proclaimed sex addict who is just now exploring her submissive side. How can you not be perfect for me? Besides, I like curves", he smirks.
I swallow hard, my heart pounding in my chest. "I...I don't know," I whisper, my voice trembling. "I've never..."
He chuckles darkly, running his fingers through my hair. "That's okay, little one," he says. "I'll teach you everything you need to know."
"Enough talk," he says. "Are we ready to continue?" I shake my head no. "Too bad," he chuckles as he walks to the side of the room.
Suddenly, I feel a jolt as the pulley above me starts to move. My eyes widen in terror as I realize I'm standing up again. "No! Please stop!" I plead, struggling against my restraints. But it's too late and I'm already standing again. I feel helpless and vulnerable, my body exposed and on display. The figure in black leather watches me with a predatory gaze, his hands resting on his hips.
"Please," I whimper, my voice trembling with fear and arousal. "Don't do this."
But he doesn't listen. Instead, he steps closer, running his fingers through my hair. "You're so beautiful when you beg," he whispers, his breath hot against my ear.
I assume he is going to paddle me again, but instead he torments me with the vibrator again. Once again frustratingly stopping before I reach climax.
At this point I'm not sure what is worse, this or the paddle. It’s maddening and I lose all resolve. "Look. I'll fuck you. I'll suck your dick. I'll do anything you want. Please let me go!" I beg. "Or at least let me cum," I say in almost a whisper.
"You will do all of those things and more, in time," he says. "But right now, that is not what I want."
He steps back, watching me with a predatory gaze. My body is on fire, aching for release. I can feel the heat building between my legs, the need for orgasm consuming me. I whimper and squirm in my restraints, desperate for him to touch me again.
"Okay," he says. "We might try something." He steps away for a time but soon returns soon enough with a metal pole. The tip of the pole has a dildo attached. "I was going to introduce this some time later. But maybe now is the right time." He proceeds to bolt one end of the pole into a ring right below me I presume was set up for this very reason. It doesn't take long before I understand what is about to happen. He slides the dildo up and into my sopping wet pussy as far as it can go, tightening a screw to hold it into place.
"We're not done yet," he says. And he walks over to the side of the room and once again I hear the whirling of machinery. I am lifted once again to my tip toes. He walks back around and further adjusts the telescoping pole so that the dildo is mostly all inside me again.
He reaches up and grabs my wrists and unhooks them from the chain.
"What are you doing?" I manage to choke out.
"Just making you more comfortable," he says.
He unhooks the metal clasp binding my wrists together, and I feel a rush of relief as my hands are finally freed.
"I'm sure those arms could use a rest," he laughs. "Besides, it's not like you are going anywhere soon."
I can see he is right. Now with my full weight on my toes, I begin to see the deviousness of it. I can't stand flat footed, otherwise I will impale myself more.
As I stand on my tiptoes, the dildo buried deep within me, I feel a wave of desperation wash over me. My arms, now freed from the pulley, hang limply at my sides. I'm doing my best to balance on my toes, but it's a losing effort, my legs trembling with the effort. The slightest movement sends a jolt of pleasure through my body, making me gasp.
The mysterious man watches me with an intensity that makes my skin crawl. He seems to be savoring my discomfort, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic light. I try to plead with him, to beg for mercy, but my voice is barely above a whisper. "Please...".
He interrupts me, his voice low and husky. "I'll allow you to touch yourself now." He steps closer, his eyes never leaving mine. "Go ahead, touch yourself. See if you can make yourself cum." He says it with a cruel smile.
I just stare at him blankly. I really don't want to give him this satisfaction, but the bigger part of me that is desperate for release is starting to win out. With an inward sigh, I begin to stimulate my clit with my finger.
A spark of electricity runs through my body. As my pleasure builds, I find it harder and harder to keep my balance and soon I do not care. I begin riding the dildo. Sliding it in and out as I continue to pleasure myself. I gasp, my eyes locking onto the mysterious man's, who watches me with an unblinking gaze.
The sensation is almost too much to bear, and I feel myself teetering on the edge of orgasm, the mysterious man's voice cuts through the air. "Cum," he demands. The single word is like a spark to dry kindling, and my body erupts into a frenzy of pleasure. The dildo inside me seems to pulse with a life of its own, sending waves of sensation crashing through my body.
My fingers move of their own accord, stroking and teasing my clit as I hurtle towards orgasm.
My fingers move in a frenzy, stroking and teasing my clit as I cum harder than I ever have before. The waves of pleasure are so intense that I feel like I'm going to pass out.
The mysterious man watches me with a satisfied smile, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic light. He seems to be savoring every moment of my orgasm, his gaze never leaving my face.
As the last waves of my orgasm subside, the mysterious man's gaze lingers on my face. He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to stroke my cheek. "Good girl," he says, the words sending a shiver down my spine.
I feel a sense of relief wash over me as he reaches for the screw that holds the dildo in place and begins to loosen it. The dildo slowly slides out of me, but just enough so that I no longer must stand on my toes, it is still frustratingly holding me in place.
He bends down and unhooks my ankle cuffs from the floor. He stands up and while doing so his hand running up my thigh, teasingly close to my pussy. I shiver, my body still sensitive from the intense pleasure.
"It's called a one-bar prison," he explains. "It's one of my favorites. I like to keep my toys on display."
I gulp, my heart racing as I try to process what he's just said. He's not going to let me go, is he?
He steps back, giving me some space. I glance around the room, taking in my surroundings. The walls are painted a sterile white, and there's a small table with a chair in one corner. On the table, there's a tray with the sport bottle and a few pieces of fruit.
He walks over to the table and grabs the bottle. I reach for the bottle and gulp down the water, the cool liquid quenching my thirst. As I hand the bottle back to him, I notice a small camera mounted on the ceiling.
He walks back to the table to set down the bottle and grabs the plate of fruit. Thinking he is going to hand me the plate, I reach out, but he shakes his head "no." He takes a piece and brings it up to my mouth. But I shake my head.
"Suit yourself," he says. "But you are going to need your strength."
He sits back down. "No sense in letting it go to waste," and he eats a single piece.
I ignore him, and now that I have slightly more freedom, take in more of the room. I notice the door behind me has a keypad next to it with a little red light on top. It dawns on me that this might be some sort of high-tech locking system, and the only way out is to figure out the code. I try to remember if there were any clues in the room that could help me decipher it.
My eyes dart around the room, searching for any hint of what the code might be. I see the controls for the hoist with its green and red button. But on the side, there are some numbers on it. I strain my neck to get a better look.
He looks over at me with amusement. I try to ignore him, focusing on the numbers etched into the side of the control.
"What are you doing?" he asks. The man's eyes narrow as he studies my face.
"I'm just trying to get out of here," I say, my voice trembling. "I don't know why this happened or how I got here."
"I already told you why you are here. How you got here… that is my little secret," he says mysteriously.
"But, you are going to let me go?" I ask.
"Of course," he explains. "Just not right now."
"But why not right now? If you let me go, I promise I won't go to the police."
"You have to give me some time to show you why," he went on. "I'm not worried about the police. You think this is the first time I've done this?"
I just stare blankly at him. I keep trying to come up with something to say, but the words are escaping me now.
Obviously bored with the conversation, he pulls out his phone from his pants pocket and starts studying it, only occasionally glancing at me. I try every which way to get off dildo, but even with my hands and legs free I can't seem to find a way.
He continues to stare at his phone, and I take the opportunity to try and remove myself from the dildo again. I wiggle and squirm, trying to find a way to free myself, but it's no use. I'm stuck.
"You're not going to get anywhere like that," he says, not even bothering to look up from his phone.
I sigh in frustration, and my stomach growls. I'm hungry, and the fruit on the table looks so inviting.
"Here," he says, finally looking up from his phone. He walks over to me, a piece of fruit in his hand.
I hesitate for a moment, unsure if I should trust him, but my stomach growls again.
"Go ahead," he says, motioning to the fruit. "Eat."
I take the fruit from him and bite into it, savoring the sweetness. It's the best thing I've tasted in a long time. As I chew, I try to figure out what to do next.
He feeds me the fruit one piece at a time until I finish all of the fruit on the plate, and he sits back down.
He starts looking at his phone again. Minutes tick by, and he makes no move to rescue me from my impalement. My legs start to burn from standing in one place for too long.
Suddenly, I break down and beg him to let me off. "Please, sir, I can't take it anymore. I need to be let off this thing."
He raises an eyebrow at me and smirks. "Oh really? You didn't seem to mind it before when you were cumming all over it."
I shake my head vigorously. "It's different now, please let me off." Tears begin to well up in my eyes as the pain in my legs becomes unbearable.
"Ok," he says. "But you have to be a good girl."
I nod. I'm willing to do anything at this point. He instructs me to once again spread my legs. As he bends down to attach them once again to the floor, I think briefly about kicking him. But quickly realize that that wouldn't do me any good. So instead, I comply. He loosens the screw and slides the dildo out. I suddenly feel empty.
He walks over to the same metal chair and places it below me and instructs me to sit. I flop down into the chair exhausted. He takes my arms and puts them behind my back and clicks my wrists together again. I don't even resist.
The man looks at me with a smirk. "You're not going anywhere," he says. He strokes my hair and puts his finger under my chin, forcing me to look at him. "You're mine now. And for now, you belong to me."
With that, he leaves again, his footsteps echoing off the cold, white walls as he exits the room. The sound of the door closing behind him is like a punch to the gut, leaving me feeling hollow and alone.
I sit in stunned silence, my wrists still bound together. My mind is a jumble of emotions, trying to process everything that has happened.
Wait. Did he call me beautiful? No one’s ever called me beautiful before... Wait… why am I focusing on this?
I shake that thought from my head as I sit there, I become aware of the sound of my own breathing, the only sound in the room.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. I notice that my heart is racing, and my hands are shaking. I try to focus on my breathing, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. I close my eyes and try to imagine myself in a peaceful place, somewhere far away from this white room and the man who now controls me.
But it's no use. My thoughts keep drifting back to the man, and I can't help but wonder what he has in store for me.
As I scan the room, my eyes land on the small table where the fruit plate had been. It's now empty, except for a few crumbs and a small water droplet that has formed a tiny sphere on the surface. I stare at it, mesmerized by its perfect shape, and for a moment, I forget about my predicament. But as I continue to gaze around the room, my attention is drawn back to the cold, white walls and the metal chair I'm sitting on, and the single camera mounted in the corner, its lens trained on me like an unblinking eye. I shift my weight, trying to find a more comfortable position.
The room feels cold and sterile, and I shiver involuntarily. Suddenly, I hear footsteps approaching. My heart races as the door opens, revealing the man dressed in black leather. He smirks at me, his eyes dark and intense.
"Good evening, toy," he says in a deep voice. "I trust you've been behaving yourself?"
I swallow hard, trying to find my voice. "I... I haven't done anything," I stammer.
He chuckles softly, walking towards me with a wheeled cart. On the cart is a laptop, a shiny metal collar, and a pink g-spot vibrator. My heart races as he approaches. He stops in front of me. He reaches out a hand and gently strokes my hair, his touch sending shivers down my spine. I try to pull away, but my wrists are still cuffed together, rendering me helpless. He smiles, seeming to enjoy my distress, and continues to stroke my hair.
"I thought you might help me out with a little side project I've been working on. I figure it is the least you could do for me, with me being such a gracious host." His voice is low and smooth, like velvet.
As he speaks, he reaches out and gently lifts the laptop off the cart, placing it on a small table beside me.
He picks up the metal collar and places it around my neck. Behind me, I hear a snap as the two ends fit together. It fits snugly but comfortably, the cool metal resting against my skin. I can feel a slight weight to it, but it's not uncomfortable. The man's fingers brush against my skin as he tests the fit of the collar.
A hint of a smile plays on his lips as he explains, "Do you like it? It's made of titanium. It has many functions. It can even give you a shock if you are bad. But don't worry. You can only be a good girl for me today." His voice is calm and measured, but I can sense a hint of excitement beneath the surface.
As he speaks, he reaches out and gently plays with the ring in the front of it, his fingers brushing against my skin. I feel goosebumps at the touch, and my eyes flicker back to his face.
He picks up the pink vibrator, its bright color a stark contrast to the sterile white of the room. He holds it delicately, his fingers wrapping around the base as he examines it for a moment. I feel a flutter in my chest as he approaches me, the vibrator held tantalizingly close to my body.
Without a word, he sticks the vibrator into my vagina, the cool plastic sliding in with ease. I feel a slight stretch, a gentle pressure, but no pain. He doesn't turn it on, instead leaving it still and silent inside me.
He sits down at the table, his movements economical and deliberate. The chair creaks softly as he settles into it. He reaches out a hand and boots up the computer, the screen flickering to life as the machine hums into action. His fingers dance across the keyboard, his eyes scanning the screen as he checks a few things. I watch, fascinated, as his face remains impassive, giving away nothing.
After a moment, he pulls out his phone again, his thumb moving deftly over the screen. With a couple of taps, the vibrator comes alive, its gentle hum filling the air.
As I watch, transfixed, he moves his thumb up and down on the screen, the vibrator responding in kind. It rises and falls in time with the movements, the gentle hum growing louder and softer in a tantalizing rhythm. I feel the vibrations deep within me, a slow-building pressure that threatens to overwhelm me. My eyes are fixed on his thumb, mesmerized by the deliberate strokes as he controls the vibrator with precision.
I look up at the man, his gaze burning with an intensity that makes my skin prickle. He seems to be savoring every moment, every reaction, as he expertly manipulates the vibrator.
As the vibrations build to a crescendo, I feel my orgasm edging closer, my body tensing in anticipation. The man's eyes seem to gleam with excitement, his thumb moving with precision over the screen. I'm so close, I can feel it, my muscles coiling and uncoiling in a rhythmic dance. But just as I'm about to crest the wave, he cuts the vibration, leaving me hanging on the precipice. The sudden silence is jarring, and I feel a pang of frustration mixed with disappointment.
He pulls his eyes away just long enough to check something on the laptop screen. His gaze flicks down, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration. "Good," he says, his voice low and even, as he nods to himself. The sound is barely audible, but it's enough to make me wonder what he's checking, what he's looking for.
He spends several minutes doing some typing, his fingers flying across the keyboard. For the time being, he's completely focused on his computer, his attention riveted on the screen. The only sound in the room is the soft clacking of the keys, a rhythmic beat that's almost soothing.
He completes typing, with a little nod of satisfaction. His eyes flicker up to mine, and for a moment, we just stare at each other. The only sound in the room is the soft hum of the computer, a gentle accompaniment to the tension that hangs in the air.
He picks up his phone again, his thumb moving with deliberate slowness over the screen. The vibrator, still lodged deep within me, springs to life once more. The hum is low and steady, a gentle thrumming that seems to vibrate through every cell in my body.
As the vibrations build, I feel my muscles begin to tense.
The man's eyes are drinking in the whole scene. He seems to be savoring every moment, every reaction, as he expertly manipulates the vibrator. The vibrations build to a crescendo, my muscles tensing in anticipation. But again just as I'm about to crest the wave, he cuts the vibration once again, leaving me hanging on the edge. I can't help but let out a frustrated sigh, my body trembling with unspent energy.
He pulls his eyes away just long enough to check something on the laptop screen. He types with just a few clicks this time and starts again.
The process repeats. He does this several times. Each time he never fails to bring me to the edge and stop. The only difference is how quickly I get there.
After some time I notice another sensation building. I feel intense pressure on my bladder. I say to the man, "You need to let me up. I need to pee."
The man's gaze shifts from mine for a brief moment, his eyes flicking down to the laptop screen. He seems to be considering my request, his fingers tapping idly on the keyboard. I can feel my bladder protesting, the pressure building with each passing second. I shift uncomfortably in the chair, my wrists still cuffed to the armrests.
"Please," I say, my voice strained. "I really need to go."
The man's fingers pause, his eyes flicking back up to mine. He seems to be weighing his options, his expression inscrutable.
He shakes his head no, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "It's fine. I don't mind if you make a mess," he says.
With that, the vibrations start again, building slowly and steadily, their intensity growing with each passing moment. I can feel my muscles tensing, my body coiling and uncoiling in a rhythmic dance. I try to focus on anything else, but his gaze never wavers, and I can feel my body responding to his expert manipulation. I'm so close, I can feel it, my muscles tensing in anticipation. This time, he doesn't stop.
The orgasm hits me like a wave, crashing over me with an intensity that takes my breath away. I can feel my body trembling with pleasure, my muscles tensing and releasing as the sensation washes over me. But the pleasure is too much, and I can no longer hold my bladder.
As the warmth spreads through my legs, I feel a mix of relief and mortification. The man's gaze never wavers, his eyes seeming to bore into mine as he takes in every detail of my reaction. I can feel my face burning with embarrassment, but he just smiles, a small, satisfied smile.
The vibrator, still lodged deep within me, slows to a gentle hum, and then falls silent. He sets the phone down on the laptop keyboard, his eyes never leaving mine, and reaches out to gently pull the vibrator out and wipe my thighs with a soft cloth.
"Good girl," he says, his voice low and husky, as he gazes at me with a mixture of satisfaction and amusement. "I'll bring you back something more to drink." He begins to walk away, his footsteps echoing softly in the room, but stops and turns back to me. "Almost forgot," he adds, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
He walks back to me and reaches out to pick up the vibrator from the seat. He holds it up and pushes the button on it before gently inserting it back into my pussy.
The man's eyes linger on mine for a moment, a hint of a smile still playing on his lips, before he turns and walks away. The sound of his footsteps echoes softly in the room, growing fainter with each passing moment. I'm left alone, the only sound the gentle hum of the computer and the soft rustle of my own breathing.
The vibrator, still lodged deep within me, seems to pulse with a gentle, insistent rhythm, a reminder of the man's presence and control. I try to shift uncomfortably in the chair, but my wrists are still cuffed, holding me in place.
The sudden ding of the computer makes me jump, and I feel a flutter in my chest as the screen flickers to life. "Initiating sequence," the computer announces in a detached, robotic voice. The words seem to hang in the air, and I feel a shiver run down my spine as the vibrator, still lodged deep within me, begins to pulse with a gentle, insistent rhythm.
The pulsing grows stronger, more insistent, and I can feel my body responding once again to the stimulation. My muscles tense, my breath catches, and I feel a wave of pleasure wash over me. The computer's screen flickers again, and a countdown timer appears.
Another ding pierces the air, and the computer's detached voice announces, "Subject response: Four. Higher setting activated." The words seem to hang in the air, a harbinger of what's to come. The vibrator, still lodged deep within me, kicks up with more vibration, the pulsing growing stronger and more insistent. I can feel my body responding to the increased stimulation, my muscles tensing and relaxing into the all to familiar dance of the evening.
The vibrations are more intense now, and I can feel my breath catching in my throat. My eyes are fixed on the countdown timer, the numbers ticking away with a steady, relentless beat.
The timer reaches one, and the vibrations come to a sudden halt, leaving me in a state of tense anticipation. The computer announces, "Subject response: Orgasm denied." I can feel my body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure, my breath still coming in ragged gasps. I wait, my heart pounding in my chest, but the vibrations don't return. I'm left unsatisfied, my body craving the release that the vibrator had promised.
The man's footsteps grow louder, and I can hear the sound of a bottle opening and the clink of ice against glass. He returns to my side, a glass of sparkling water in his hand.
He puts the glass of water up to my mouth, and I take a few sips, the cool liquid soothing my parched throat. I'm not eager to have a similar incident like earlier, so I drink slowly, savoring the taste. As he sets the glass back down on the table, he remarks, "Isn't technology great? There have been some great advancements in artificial intelligence over the last couple of years." He pauses, his eyes glinting with amusement. "That collar that you wear is taking your biometrics: heart rate, temperature, blood pressure. All of it is being analyzed and fed into this computer."
He gestures to the laptop, the screen still displaying the countdown timer.
The man's eyes seem to gleam with excitement as he explains the technology, his voice taking on a slightly lecturing tone. "You see, the AI is designed to learn and adapt to your responses, adjusting the stimulation to optimize your pleasure and keep you on the edge." He pauses, his gaze drifting down to the vibrator still lodged inside me, and a small smile plays on his lips. "It's quite advanced, really. I've been working on it for a while now."
As he speaks, he reaches out to touch the collar, his fingers brushing against my skin and sending a shiver down my spine.
The man's fingers linger on the collar for a moment, and I can feel my heart rate quicken under his touch. He notices my reaction and gives me a knowing smile. "I see you're starting to understand," he says, his voice low and intimate.
He then turns his attention back to the laptop, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he analyzes the data from the collar. The vibrator inside me springs to life again, its rhythm changing in response to the new settings. I can feel my body responding, my muscles tensing and relaxing as the vibrations wash over me.
I can feel the vibrations growing stronger, my body tensing and relaxing as I'm brought closer and closer to the edge.
"Just a little bit more," he murmurs, his voice low and husky as he strokes as his hands move to my breasts and begin pulling on my nipples. I can feel my breath hitching in my throat, my heart pounding in my chest as I struggle against my restraints.
My breath comes in ragged gasps, my heart pounds in my chest, and I can feel my muscles tightening with every pulse of the vibrator.
When the vibrator stops again, he lets go of my nipples, his fingers releasing their gentle yet firm grasp. I feel a slight pang of disappointment, but it's quickly replaced by anticipation as his hands move back to the keyboard. His eyes gleam with intensity as he hits a few keys, and the vibrator inside me springs to life once more. This time, however, it's different. The vibrations are faster, stronger, and more intense than before. I can feel my body trembling, my muscles tensing and relaxing in rapid succession as the vibrator pulsates with a frenzied rhythm.
The man's eyes never leave mine as he watches me, his gaze burning with an inner fire.
As the vibrator reaches a fever pitch, I can feel my body begin to shudder and convulse. The man's eyes seem to bore into mine, his gaze burning with an intensity that makes my skin prickle with sweat. His lips curve into a subtle smile, and he leans forward, his face inches from mine.
The air is thick with tension as he whispers, "Let go, little one. Let the pleasure consume you." His breath caresses my skin, sending shivers down my spine. I feel my body respond to his words, my muscles relaxing as I surrender to the vibrations.
The man's lips are so close to mine that I can feel his breath on my face. I close my eyes, my breath hitching in my throat as I surrender to the vibrations. I can feel my body trembling, my muscles contracting and releasing as the vibrator reaches a fever pitch.
The man's hand moves to my cheek, his fingers gently caressing my skin as he watches me. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I struggle to hold on.
But it's no use. My body shudders, convulsing as the vibrator reaches its peak. I can feel my muscles contracting and releasing, my breath hitching in my throat as I cry out in pleasure.
The man's lips curl into a satisfied smile as he watches me, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
As the last waves of pleasure dissipate, I feel my body relax, my muscles releasing their tension. The man's smile widens, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he gazes at me with satisfaction. He reaches out, his fingers tracing the curve of my cheek, his touch gentle and soothing.
The vibrator, still pulsing with a gentle rhythm, seems to be humming in harmony with my heartbeat. I can feel its vibrations echoing through my body, a pleasant aftershock that leaves me feeling languid and relaxed.
The man's hand moves to my hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he gently strokes my scalp. I feel my eyes growing heavy, my body sinking into the chair underneath me. I try to fight it, but my eyelids are too heavy, my limbs too weak. With a final sigh, I give in to the darkness, surrendering to the man's touch.
As I drift off, I can feel the vibrator still pulsing inside me, its gentle rhythm lulling me into a deep and restful sleep. The man's fingers continue to stroke my hair, his touch a soothing balm that calms my racing mind.