Chapter 1
The Quiet Kidnap I knew it was the best time of my life. I knew for sure that no matter how long I lived, this moment would be the ultimate, the apex, my minute of utter glory. My heart was thumping so loud I figured it would probably bring her back to consciousness better than cold water and all those other things you're supposed to do. I had to fight back the urge to be forever testing the wristlets and anklets I'd made for her. They were good and snug and she'd never get out of them in a million years. But it felt good to finger them and see if they would go up and down on her wrists or ankles. They wouldn't. And the chains were just right, too.
They kept her spreadeagled on the cot, but sort of comfortable. When she woke up she would not be in pain. I wanted her first impression to be good.
I wondered if she'd realise first thing she was naked. I was going to watch every flicker of expression on her lovely face. I was hoping realisation would come bit by bit - no screaming hysterics. Noise did not matter, there was no one to hear. But it was not part of my dream. Girls aren't pretty when they scream. I was determined that Cathy would always be beautiful...always!
I'd given a lot of thought to her nudity: whether it would be more exciting for me to strip her while she was out cold or whether I'd get more a thrill out of making her do a strip tease for me later on. I'd decided on taking her clothes off myself to make it easier for her I mean, no awful decision to make before what she'd likely see as lecherous male eyes. Having her naked was very important. Perhaps later on when she'd got so she understood me I could let her wear a little something, and I had the cutest ideas about those little somethings. But at the start it would be much the best for her to know just where she stood. It would help with the explanations. Girls are awful uppity with their clothes on. This way she'd wake up to what they call a fait accompli. Along with my heart beats I was shivering, but not with cold!
Cathy sure was beautiful. I'd never had a good chance to look at a naked girl before. I'd seen some, but never so I could get down to a good hard look. The way I had her fastened was super - all spread. While she didn't know a thing I took the opportunity to really examine the hair and the slit between her legs. Hers was nice.
Some of those you get a look at in girlie magazines are ugly, but not Cathy's. Hers was near and sort of cute, cute. I looked forward to having the damnedest times with it. It was warm and sort of moist when I held it.
It was the same with her breasts. A guy gets to see a lot of pictures, but it's not the same. Cathy's were nice and firm and conical and her nipples were what they call inverted I mean they weren't sticking out, but I'd read about that so I wasn't worried, and anyway the effect was smooth and kind of exciting. The way I had her chained helped. The wristlets held her arms up and back and her skin taut. There was no way I'd ever be calling Cathy's breasts boobs or cans or knockers the way some guys like to do.
I've often tried to draw a naked girl. I expect you have too. You'd think it would be easy, not the face but all the rest. But it isn't. Nothing comes out right, just sort of lumpy. No, looking at Cathy fastened naked on that cot, I could see why. A girl is all lines and curves you don't expect. The words "Hills and hollows" came into my mind as I traced her hips and waist and armpits and all the rest. The discovery made me tremendously excited. Her armpits were nicely exposed so I could see how closely shaven they were, with quiet reflection as to whether I'd let the hair grow there the same way we men do. I decided I would. I could always shave her smooth again if I didn't like it. Thinking about that, little things made me realise just how totally I owned her. I owned a naked girl! Like I said, if I live to be a hundred...
Cathy's return to consciousness began with a sort of pull on one of her tethered arms and then on the opposite leg. She was trying to turn over, still mostly asleep but wanting to change position. I do it myself before I open my eyes. A million dollars wouldn't have taken my gaze off her. It was as though I was inside her mind, knowing what was going on in there. She lay still for a moment and then tried, again, making a funny petulant little sound when it didn't work. I expect her mouth was dry from the drug because she swallowed and gulped and wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. I thought she'd gone back to sleep when suddenly she made a determined heave to get possession of one of her hands, then opened her eyes.
She lay still for a moment, looking at the ceiling and tugging pettishly at her chained hand. She probably thought it was in someway trapped in the bed clothes. Then when the knowledge of something wrong hit her head on, she surged against her fastenings in an effort to sit up. It was then she saw me.
"What...what's happened?" she asked in a far away voice.
She was too beautiful! She was still straining at her bonds in a sort of instinctive reaction. She had her head and shoulders raised in an effort she wouldn't be able to hold for long. The stress brought out all the female lines of her, it accentuated everything and nearly drove me crazy. The leather bands I'd made were doing fine, holding snug on her wrists and ankles against her tugs. It made me feel guilty to have her looking at me so hopefully.
"Please help me get these things off. I don't." she broke off, uncertain of what to say.
"It was me who put them on." I said in a sensible down to earth sort of way.
She digested this and come out with: "Why?"
"Because I want to own a girl." I said It hit her all of a sudden. She was naked! She looked up and down at what she could see of herself and back and forth at me as though connecting the two. Her cheeks got red and the pink spread down. A spasm of frantic tugging and twisting turned her into a frenzy of motion which, I'll swear, was more to cover herself than an expectation of getting loose. When she had satisfied herself about helplessness she sank back, panting, and asked in a small scared voice: "Unfasten these things please, I want to get up."
"No." I said firmly. "Not yet." "Then cover me. Use a sheet or something."
It was like she was giving me an order. I knew I couldn't have that. It was best I start her off right. "I like you naked." I said casually. "That's the way you stay."
I could see it was a bad one for her. It was sort of cute the way she examined everything I said. I could almost hear her mind working.
"Have you raped me?"
I hadn't. But I was surprised. "You mean, you couldn't tell if I had?" I asked her, interested.
'If that's what this is all about, you'd best get it over with and let me go home." I could tell she was fighting hard to be brave and not get me riled. What she said then was pathetic and sort of sweet. "I seem to be quite helpless. I expect you can do anything you want with me. Especially in this...in this ... position"
"That's not what it's all about." I said quietly.
"Then why?"
The poor kid was really up the creek and I couldn't blame her. She lay flat with her head turned sideways so she could look at me, and she kept moving something as though not believing she was really tied down: her fingers or her toes, and little testing tugs at the bands on her wrists and ankles. I was loving every moment.
"Because I want a slave girl." I said.
She turned that 'one over and came back with: "Haven't you a girl friend? If you're nice to a girl friend and she's fond of you she'll do most anything you want."
She was telling me! "Sure she will for a week or until she marries you." I said scornfully. "That's not what I want. It's a gyp.
"We don't always get what we want." She tugged at a fettered ankle to emphasise her point.
"I've got you." Saying it made me feel like a million.
"Could I have a drink of water? Whatever you drugged me with has made my mouth dry."
I got a glass of water and she asked to have one hand free so as to hold it. But I refused and held her head up and fed her the water myself. It felt awfully good.
Her hair and her skin and being close and seeing her strain against those lovely chains I'd put her in. She smelled good too. I couldn't tell whether it was some sort of perfume or just her.
"Thank you." she said politely. "Why did you pick me for this... whatever it is - an experiment?"
"It's not an experiment. I picked you because I saw you in the office where you work and I fell in love with you. I made a few inquiries and found out your name. It's Catherine Hazlett. You live alone. Your folks live in Omaha. You're a steno and receptionist. I saw quite a lot of you when you didn't know I was watching."
"if you wanted to know me, or wanted me to like you, why didn't you go about it in the ordinary way?"
"I don't want it like that. This is better."
"It's not better for me. I do wish you'd unlock these things you've got fixed on me.
I'm willing to talk."
"we're talking now. If you were free you wouldn't be half as reasonable."
"You've got an inferiority complex? Is that your trouble?"
"I don't have any trouble. I've got you."
"You mean I'm all you want!"
"Yes."
"And you're going to keep me chained to this bed?"
"Gosh no! We'll do lots of things. But I'll keep you chained or tied some way."
She looked at me, really serious. "Are you sure you don't want to ... to ... you know - do it to me? I think you should. I think afterwards you'd feel better."
I have to admit that one hit me hard. It meant she'd been used, that it was no longer any big thing. She was so beautiful I'd never even dreamed she could do something like that. But then I realised all she had was words, she'd use them to get the best of me. I had to remember she was female and would use everything she had to twist me her way. If I wasn't careful, I'd be feeling guilty, or just maybe doing what she'd just suggested. I didn't want to do that, not now. "I don't want you talking like that." I told her sternly. "You're too nice."
"Cover me up then." she demanded quickly.
Girls always have answers, they're good at it. I could tell she was feeling me out, seeing how far she could push. I came back at her with: "I won't do that. Does being naked bother you that much?"
Her voice was like an angry mama, testy: "Of course it does and the way you've got me tied or strapped, or whatever it is, it's beastly all spread out this way. If you don't want to have sex with me I don't see why I have to be stretched like this."
"You're not really being stretched." I pointed out reasonably. "You're not hurting."
"I don't see why I can't sit up. You can tie my hands or my feet or something?"
"I've got proper chains for you. I made them special."
"Gee thanks!" She piled the sarcasm on real thick.
"Well, they're a lot more comfortable than being tied with rope all the time."
Seemed like I'd given her something to think about. I guess I had. I expect the idea of being restrained permanently was strange and hard to take. She lay there, thinking hard.
"I want to go to the bathroom."
She popped it out like it was a sure fire winner. I got the biggest charge out of being three jumps ahead. Her eyes were wide as I fitted the collar round her neck and locked it with the chain tether dangling. I had to lift her head and arrange her hair, which was nice. But she was scared. She didn't say a thing, but raised up to watch me loosen her feet and then chain them loosely so she could walk. When I unlocked her hands I could feel the tension radiating from her in waves. She was breathing fast.
"I've got everything fixed for your comfort." I said, and then added: "And safety."
She was busy stretching and rubbing her wrists. I could tell she was longing to use her hands to cover bits of herself but she wasn't going to give me that satisfaction.
She said accusingly: "What you mean is you've got everything fixed so I can't escape."
It was cute holding the chain and watching her learn to walk. She made a big production out of it, probably so I'd feel guilty. She kept snubbing the chain or getting her toe in it. But we made it to the bathroom and it was worth a million dollars to see her face when I padlocked her neck chain to the ring I already had in the wall beside the toilet.
"You've got lots of chain." I told her helpfully. "You can do everything you want in here, but if you cause damage or break the window you'll be punished."
She still didn't say a thing. But stood there sort of incredulous about the whole deal.
She was everything I'd ever wanted, standing there with the chain hanging in a loop from her neck and the links taut between her ankles. I wanted to tell her how sweet she was, but I didn't feel I really could. I just didn't feet that I really knew her well enough yet. So I just left her there and just shut the huge door. I'd taken the lock out so she couldn't get up to mischief with it though the chain wouldn't stretch that far anyway.
I gave her lots of time. I wasn't going to be in any way a bastard. The only thing she'd be able to hold against me would be the kidnapping and any punishments she made me inflict. She'd get over being mad about them after awhile when they had fallen into their proper perspective in her mind.
She used the time well. When I went to get her, first knocking at the door, she'd prettied herself up, done something to her hair, and draped a towel around her hips to cover what girls worry about the most. The look she gave me was embarrassed and uncertain.
"You can take the towel off." I told her bluntly.
She turned on all her femininity and looked at me wide eyed. "But please, I've got to have something!"
"Why?" I made it curt.
She gestured with her free hands. "Well, because"
She smiled at me brightly as though we were buddies, "You'll get awfully tired of looking at me bare. What I've covered up isn't all that attractive."
"It is to me."
Again the gesture. I could tell she was surprised to have her hands to wave around.
"But that's because it's new and because of those gatefolds in the magazine."
Her voice had gained assurance. I could tell I'd have my hands full with her. She'd prod like crazy, and wheedle things out of me. I repeated my command: "Take it off."
"I won't!" She turned, Sulky. "Take it off yourself."
I took it off. It was only tied loosely at two corners. When I brushed her pubic hair she slapped my face.
She was everything I wanted, even the slap. I stood back and looked. She was breathing fast and seemed scared. She made a real sweet picture with her fists clenched and the chain trailing from her collar to the wall. I figured the slap was a reflex: now she was expecting me to beat her. But I saw, too, she'd been right about the towel: it did something for the ensemble. Fixed the way she'd had it, kinda' loose, made it sort of plead to be yanked off. On impulse, I made a mistake.
"If you ask nicely I'll let you put the towel back on. But it's because I say so, not because you want it. Understand: "
She just stood there and sulked. I could almost hear the wheels turning. But she wanted that towel. Finally she asked, stiffly: "Please may I wear the towel over my hips?"
I wasn't sure who'd won the round. But I handed it over and watched her tie it back on. It was a damn sight cuter than panties. You could damn near see her morale flourish as she tugged the knot and arranged the folds. I didn't feel any loss. I could still enjoy her breasts. She'd better not try covering THEM!.
"How about lunch?" I said.
"What, chained in a bathroom!" She made it sound like a snake pit. She let me have one of those looks withering!
I unlocked her chain from the wall and led her into the hall. She clinked along in silence for a few steps and then gave me another shaft: "I'm not a dog. You don't have to hold the chain. I'll follow. I can't run away with these beastly things on my feet."
She had a way with her, and she looked so damn cute! So I made another blooper. I let go the chain. It fell from her neck down between her breasts to the floor. As though it was some kind of reptile, she gathered it up and told me haughtily she'd prefer to carry it "If I didn't mind!
"It's a nice house." I told her on our way to the kitchen.
"I'm sure it is." she said stiffly. "Have you many other girls chained up around the place?"
I let it go. I was enjoying her hands. Her hands were bothering her. The chain on her ankles made her feel helpless only up to a point. I'm sure she was wondering why I didn't have her hands fixed some way. But since I hadn't tied them she was aching to use them to bop me or find a weapon anything! She was quietly hefting the handful of chain from her neck and looking right and left as though interested in the decor. "Don't hit me with that." I said cheerfully. "It won't knock me out and I'd have to punish you." Then it clattered and trailed on the floor. In the kitchen I picked it up and locked it to one of the rings. Cathy could sit comfortably at the table with it looping off to one side. I could see she was furious.
I'd fixed a nice breakfast. I passed up her frosty remark: "What, not bread and water!" We both ate in silence. We had a lot to think about. Over the coffee I tried to get a conversation going, but all I got was hostile sarcasms. So I moved to the next item of business.
The ring in the wall beside the sink was a real shocker for Cathy. When I locked her chain to it she knew as well as I did what was coming. "Will you wash or dry?" I asked casually.
It burned her ass. The way her breasts rose and fell told me of the battle going on inside. She fingered her collar and looked down at her chained feet as though assessing chances, then said listlessly: 'I'll dry."
Doing something helped. Or curiosity! She talked, nosey as hell.
"What do you do for a living apart from kidnapping?"
She just had to be snarky, but I didn't mind. "I inherited some money." I told her simply.
"Just buy the house?"
"Yes." I added darkly: "It's got no neighbours."
"Don't you have any friends?"
I laughed catching her drift. "Of course I do. When they visit you'll be in a nice safe place. I've had a lot of work done: soundproofing and such."
And a dungeon and a torture chamber, no doubt?"
"Of course! How did you guess?"
She was startled, and polished a plate busily to hide it. Her remark had been another bit of sarcasm but my reply had not. She didn't like the sound of it.
"Do I get to view these useful facilities?" she inquired jauntily, "Or are they reserved for when I've been a bad girl?"
"Both."
She looked at me intently. "You're serious, aren't You?"
"Dead serious."
She dabbed at her eyes with the dishcloth and sniffed. "Don't frighten me. more than you have to." she said apologetically. "But I'm in a spot, aren't I? Doesn't seem I've got much to look forward to."
I nearly said: "There's me." But this wasn't the time. I was about the last thing she wanted right then, But she had my sympathy. The poor kid was having to digest a helluva' lot in a little while. "It's going to be a lovely life for you once you've settled down." I said a bit lamely.
"Oh, for Pete's sake. Damn it." She gave me a withering glare. for a girl to be kept tied and chained like an animal and, and, dishes! "
"What sort of life is it and made to do the We stood there facing each other, and suddenly it happened: At precisely the same moment we burst out laughing.
You've no idea how good it was. Like the lifting of a weight. We roared and chuckled and then exploded again. The way she'd said that about the dishes! When we returned to normal she was annoyed with herself and said huffily: "It's no laughing matter for me."
"Time's the big thing." I said.
She brushed that off. "I'm a slave?" Right?"
"Yes."
"So OK, What are my duties?"
I'd never thought of it that way. Strange, eh! She'd caught me out. "You'll just do whatever I tell you." I said. Then added hastily: "Whenever I happen to choose."
"Must I sleep with you?"
"Don't talk like that! I don't want to talk about it, not yet..."
Cathy sighed and managed to look disillusioned and martyred. She couldn't keep the scorn from her voice when she said, pettishly: "That means you're impotent. I've read about... "
"I don't care what you've read. Just shut up about it. You'll find out whether I'm impotent or not when the time comes. And remember, I won't be nagged I've told you about punishment."
I could tell right off she was taking my outburst as the bluster of weakness. a faint smile on her lips said plainly her suspicion was now confirmed: I wouldn't be able to do it to her. She pushed her luck: "This punishment fetish you've got. Tell me about it."
Superior as all get out! I was letting her get away with things - it was that damn towel. I shouldn't have given it to her. She was getting strength out of having her cunt covered. I hate that word but anger made me use it in my mind. I made my voice very clear.
"Fetish my foot! It's an essential part of our relationship."
"My, my! So we have a relationship!"
"You're damn right we have! You're a slave - mine! I'm your Master. You act stupid, you get whipped."
I could see her flinch. The word 'whip' had gotten to her. But she was not surrendering. "Do you have a list of "Do's & Don'ts for me to memorise Master?"
Her question was as loaded with sarcasm as she could pile on. And her "Master" was designed to make me feel ten years old.
"You don't need a list." I said roughly. "You'll always know just the same as conscience when you're free. You'll say 'yes' and 'no' in the right places and be obedient."
"Or be whipped!"
She was trying to make me sound silly, but I was having none of that. I was loving every moment of her resistance, but I had to keep on top. "Yes, Or be whipped on your bare skin. It will hurt a lot more than you think."
"Will it! Kind of you to mention such a detail. But how do you know I haven't been whipped and know all about it?"
"Have you?"
"Well, no I haven't. I think it would be a demeaning experience for both of us."
"You don't believe I'll do it? You think I'd be chicken"?
Very slowly she wiped a basin. "I don't know what I think." she said dully. "I don't want to think about such a thing at all. I wouldn't have thought you'd want to either."
She looked up in sudden alarm. "You're not a sadist ?"
"No I'm not" I exclaimed hotly. "Punishing a Disobedient girl doesn't mean I'm one of those."
"What are you then?"
She sounded triumphant, as though she'd scored. I realised the poor kid was just keeping me at bay with words, and testing at the same time. I laughed at her earnestness.
"You're making something out of nothing." I said. "It's simple really. You behave or get punished."
"Whipped?"
"Not necessarily. There are other ways."
"Like what?"
"Never mind. The way you're going you'll find out soon enough."
"And this behaviour? I have to do everything your way?"
"*Of course. I own you.
"Why didn't you punish me over the towel? I wasn't supposed to put it on. And I slapped your face?"
I smiled to tell her she didn't have to be scared. "You're a brand new slave." I said.
"You need a bit of time. I'll always try not to fly off the handle and be mean.
"I'm on probation?"
"Hmmmm! In a way. I'm trying to be kind."
"Kind my aunt Fanny!" Cathy glared. She grasped her neck chain and tugged it against the ring in the wall. "Do you call this kind!"
"It doesn't hurt, does it?'
She let her tension ease. "I suppose not. Oh damn, it's all so crazy! Look, on this punishment fetish or whatever: I'd like to dispose of it. It turns me off. It's a threat.
I don't want to be whipped or any of that stuff. if that wasn't there we might work something out."
"You're dictating. I wish you wouldn't. It's got to stop."
"O.K. big man. But this whip thing --"
"Hold it a minute!" I demanded, seeing daylight. "Have a look at yourself, the way you're acting. Tell me if you can see any other way you're likely to accept things as they are. Not the way you want them, but the way I want them"
She turned sulky. she probably didn't like what she saw. She pouted and said petulantly: "You belong in the dark ages."
"You don't belong anywhere." I said. "Until you smarten up."
She did the damnedest thing. Her breasts were heaving like crazy and she looked at me in the strangest way. Suddenly, she lifted the basin she'd been drying, and slammed it down on the floor.
Dramatic as hell! It actually shocked me, the noise and the challenge. It was a declaration of war, a war Cathy couldn't possibly win. But why did she want to fight it! Pride: some feminine thing I wasn't wise to yet! Stupidly I looked at the scattered pieces on the floor, and then up to her flushed and resentful face. Right off I could tell she was scared at what she'd done. She tossed her head and said bitterly: "Well, now's your chance."
It's never the way you think leastways, not the way I think! I'Il admit to have enjoyed thrills in the past thinking about tying up a bad girl and caning her bottom, or birching her, or whipping her, or something.
For sure this was my chance! In fact, if I was to hold on to my dream, it was a necessity. But looking at Cathy standing there frightened and defiant I didn't want to. I wanted to kiss her instead. But I had to make a stand. I made my voice calm and even.
"Five strokes with a cane."
"My, you're generous."
"Six.
"Impertinence? Sorry."
"Seven."
She cooled and asked quietly. "Here, at the sink?"
"No, not here. When you're to be punished it will be done properly in a proper place so you'll have time to know what's happening and why."
"I still think you're in love with an obsession." Cathy said quietly. "You'll never go through with it, y'know. You're not the kind."
"We're going to go to a room I have prepared." I told her with a seriousness to match her own. "And you are going to allow yourself to be fastened for your punishment. If you feel you have to fight, do so. But it will double the penalty. Will you agree to behave?"
"Of course not! This is fantastic nonsense."
I took the key and was reaching for the padlock on the wall when I saw her go for the jug. She was quick and clever. I got my head out of the way but the heavy piece of china broke on my shoulder. It hurt like blazes. I backed beyond her reach and nursed my wound. Cathy stood there in defiant dismay. Dismay that her try had failed, so now she'd really be for the high jump. But she put on a bold front: "You asked for that. What do you expect a girl to do all this frightening silliness."
I wasn't mad, and I wasn't damaged. But she was really asking for it, so I said reasonably: "I'd say that should bring the total up to ten?"
She sniffed imperiously. "Hell, make it twenty while you're at it"
Bravado! My heart went out to her so that I had to force myself to say, "As you wish. But we'll make it fifteen. Now, are you going to be sensible?"
"I'm not going to be a snivelling idiot."
"You can stay there until you've changed your mind." I said, and I left her to it.
For thirty minutes I considered the situation. I was right, I knew I was! Then I went back to the kitchen. Directly I was inside, Cathy picked up a plate and threw it to the floor beside the broken dish. She never said a word, she didn't need to. I took the drainboard and the dishes away out of her reach and told her calmly: "You stay there until you clean up that mess and are ready to say you'll behave."
I got a toss of her head and a glare. After the next thirty minutes she was sitting hunched on the floor. She wouldn't look at me. That lasted my next two visits, but the next time I went she'd scooped up the broken bits into a neat small pile. She refused to meet my eyes as she said bitterly: "All right, you win."
I hadn't called it a punishment room. But that's what it was. It had all the things, and the space. I made Cathy walk ahead of me and play safe. Once inside, she looked around disdainfully and brightly exclaimed: "So this is the Torture Chamber."
"It's you who's being silly." I said.
She put a finger under her chin and pretended to consider. "And how many extra lashes for the plate?"
"None. Like I said, you're being silly."
She kept silent while I let down the trapeze bar with its waiting straps each end.
Then she got sarky again.
"Gymnastics?'.
"You put your wrists inside the straps and keep still while I buckle them." I said.
"That's all you have to do."
"You're too kind to me."
She just wouldn't let up. But I didn't mind. I loved it. I guess that's why I picked her.
She clinked her ankle chains over to where she was going to be whipped and reached out her hands to the bar. "Just a bit lower please." she asked politely.
I should have guessed, or seen it in her face. But she was smart. She had the trapeze rope 'round my neck and a knee in my back in two seconds flat. For a moment I though I was a goner, she was that strong. It doesn't take long for things to go black when there's a rope 'round your throat and someone drawing it tighter every moment. What saved me was her ankle chain, it wouldn't let her get her knee all the way up, and when I fought she tripped in it. She hung on like crazy, but once I got to turn she'd lost the battle. At the end of it she was huddled on the floor crying into her hands.
"You were trying to kill me."
I suppose I was a bit scared., It had been damn close. I made the words accusing.
She kept on crying, then sobbed: "I wouldn't have, I wouldn't!" Then as a feminine afterthought, "It serves you right."
It was one of those times! I kept silent.
"Can I finish crying before I have to do that?"
Pitiful as all get out. I felt a bastard. But the rope bum on my neck helped me keep balance. I was thankful the handkerchief I handed her was fresh. She said a snivelling thank you and buried her face in it. When the sobs subsided I put a hand under her arm. She got up without demur, wiped her eyes and cheeks one last time and returned my bit of linen. Without prompting, she examined the bar and the straps and inserted her small hands within the leather loops. I buckled them tight quick!
"You don't have to worry. I can't fight any more."
"Pathetic! I almost cried myself.
'"ought I had to bend over for this?"
She was watching her strapped hands rise before her face, and then, her arms. She was puzzled and scared, but still perking.
"It hurts more when you're bent over. But this is the first time." I said.
She gulped and managed to hold the sarcasms. When her heels left the floor she turned to me anxiously. she got back to normal. much success.
I flipped the switch to keep her just as she was. Right away She tried to make her words light and careless, but not with "what have I earned myself with that little tussle?"
"Nothing, It didn't happen. Forget it."
Standing on her toes she was quite something!
Well a look! Makes you feel a giant, doesn't it!
She turned and gave me a look.
To be so magnanimous?
Cathy had read me exactly. I felt like a kid caught out in something. If I didn't watch out she'd always be a jump ahead of me. But I did not mind. I wouldn't have changed her for anything. She was beautiful.
"Stow it." I said abruptly. "Quit while you're winning."
"Am I winning!" She gave me the strangest look and then whispered, as though to herself: "Yes I suppose I am."
I let it go. I mean what the hell!
When I was a kid at dinner we saved the best to last and called it 'the good bit.' Well, that's where I was now with Cathy. The pose in which she had to stand was perfect.
It made her breasts and tummy doubly gorgeous. The surge of sex l experienced swept away all the doubts and guilt and everything. I knew for sure that all the kings and emperors that ever were. would never have had it so good as I was about to do whipping Cathy. I was scorching up with the lust of it. But that wasn't what I wanted. I thrust it back and went and selected the cane I'd use to stripe her bottom fifteen times.
Her eyes followed me everywhere. She had a real vested interest in what I was doing. She'd twist and try to turn sideways when I went in back. I think she was scared there must be more to it than the cane.
"Look." she said desperately. "I'm properly frightened. It's awful having to stand here like this all naked and exposed. I've learned my lesson. You're the strongest.
Let's call this off please?"
"But we haven't started."
She didn't say a thing, just stared. Her eyes were beautiful, wide and deep and troubled.
"You know I have to finish it, don't you? I have to"
She was full of surprises. "Yes, I know you have to, or think you have to. I suppose it's the same thing." she admitted in a resigned sort of voice. "But I just hoped..."
She gave me a small smile. "Can't blame a girl for trying."
I couldn't answer. There was a lump in my throat. She was just too lovely for a man to cope with. But my resolution was still there. I couldn't even be positive she wasn't foxing me. My respect for her was growing all the time. I'd kidnapped a treasure.
I could understand her feelings when I reached for the towel on her hips. She looked down in distress, then up at me, wide eyed.
"Must you?"
"Would you sooner I used the cane across your back?
"No! I suppose not."
She turned and twisted to get a good look at what I was doing. It was cute the way she'd contrive to look back anxiously over a bare shoulder.
I pulled the towel away and threw it aside. Her eyes followed it in longing. I'll swear she flinched and shivered as though the air on her bottom and pubic hair was cold.
Maybe it felt that way to her.
"There." I said briskly. "That looks after that. You're all ready."
She was exquisite. If the towel had made her erotic, its loss made her doubly so now. "Please hurry." she said in a quavering voice, "And get it over with."
She hadn't a clue. That 'Please hurry' bit proved it. After number one 'hurry' would be the last thing she'd be wanting. I didn't tap her or anything first with the cane. I stood well back, positioned, took aim, and sliced the willowy cane square across both her soft curved cheeks.
She sort of froze. Her head thrust itself against a raised arm. Her breath came in funny sounding gasps. But she did not scream. One chained ankle raised up jerkingly, then went back down. That was all. I walked round to face her.
It would always be the same. She was beautiful. No matter what spot she was in she'd come through immaculately lovely. Her eyes were closed, as though to hoard and treasure her courage. Her breasts were taut from the pull on her strapped wrists. Her pubic black triangle stared at me accusingly. Her spasmodic respiration were substituting for screams. It was quite a little time before she opened her eyes and looked at me.
"You were right." she said, sort of tremulous. "It's worse than I thought oh, terribly worse."
I didn't gloat or anything. Just stood and enjoyed her.
"I was silly. I didn't know " She gazed at me hopefully.
I never said a word. I knew what she wanted.
"You're not going on with it? Not now you've proved your point are you?
She asked the question as though my answer was a foregone conclusion. To clinch matters, she added: "Fifteen like that would kill any girl."
"You asked for twenty. Remember?"
"I've said I was silly. I didn't know what I was talking about. And I was angry."
Her words were beautifully humble. She believed what she was saying. She pulled against the leather bands on her wrists and twisted a bit to ease the strain. The motions did miraculous things to her figure. I knew I'd never see anything better anywhere than I was seeing then.
"Please loosen me. This is a terrible way to be fastened. I'm all -- all -- it hurts! "
She had to learn. I knew that if I weakened now she'd be twisting me always. Not by con jobs, but by being what she was. I indulged in a bit of psychology.
"We're both trapped, Cathy. You got yourself into this deliberately. You refused to believe I had any strength of purpose. I can't forgive you the punishment. If I did the whole thing I've planned for us falls apart."
"Damn you and your plan!" She flashed into sudden fury. But slowly dissolved into realisation of the spot she was in. "I'm sorry." she apologised. Then, as though needing a vent for something she couldn't hold in, she flung herself against the straps, twisted and turned, and kicked at her ankle chain as she gasped out: "I'm not sorry at all, and you know it. There's no use me pretending. You don't have to be a mind reader to know what's going on inside me. I don't want to be hit any more. I want to be freed. I'II do anything. I'II be an absolute whore if that's what you want.
Give me a break."
"It's still fifteen." I said.
"I can't stand it. I know I can't."
"Yes you can. And anyway, what can you do about it?"
Every bit of her was busy testing the hopelessness of her bondage. "I can't do anything." she admitted defiantly. "But I don't see how you can feel proud about having me in this fix."
"It's time for me to hit you again."
"No don't -- Wait! -- Let me --". "Weren't you the one who wanted me to hurry and get it over?"
"So alright, I was stupid. I beg you, have mercy"
I sauntered around back and. gave her another just below the first. I watched it sort of blossom and rise up, a lovely thin red line. Number one was darker now.
The effect they had on me was startlingly erotic.
Cathy dealt with her pain much the same as the first time. It was quite something to see. She had my heart thumping as I watched her go through the stages until she looked at me again. The look itself fanned my fire.
"*Two. Only thirteen to go." I said.
"You're mocking me."
"No. Just keeping count. Not dying are you?"
"You are too mocking me."
"No. But I'm curious. You can see now that you're not going to die?"
"I don't want to talk about it." "That means you're ready for number three."
"I'm not! I'm not! No!"
The stripe that came up after that one was a honey. I just stood and sort of drank it in until she started to try and peep back over her shoulder to see what I was doing.
Then I hit her again. She screamed.
Cathy's scream startled me. I suddenly realised I'd never heard anything like that before in my whole life. A girl screaming in pain! It was wonderful, and exciting, but scary. I knew no one could hear her but still!
I went back front for the view. It was a lot more animated. Her face was sort of twisted and there were tears. Her wrists were taking a real beating from the straps.
I sensed that a lot of what she was doing came from anger and frustration. It must be the very devil to be tied naked like that and have someone hit you with a cane whenever they wanted. When she saw me this time she sort of surrendered. Her eyes were bitterly accusing.
"It's no use, is it - no use "
It was, strange. She had been given four strokes. The remaining eleven loomed as large and interminable in my mind as I expect they did in hers. In a frenzied wish to get the number down or maybe it was just a dither of lust, I went back and added six more as fast and as hard as I could lay them on.
She was remarkable. It was another case of being different than you expect. After the second of the six I was hitting a moving target. Cathy was trapped tight. She couldn't get away from that spot. In theory she had to stand and take it, but that wasn't the way it came out. She went wild, absolutely crazy. Her screams and exclamations were continuous. She flung herself madly against her buckled wrists and kicked and jerked her ankle chain in a constant clatter. She even raised herself off the floor in her efforts to get her striped cheeks away from the cane. It made whipping her doubly exciting. Since I couldn't always be accurate with her bouncing around like that, there were a couple of slashes that lapped those already there.
When this happened she made the most awful noises, noises that were not erotic at all: noises that scared me a bit until told myself I was as new to this as she was.
Cathy didn't have much to say. When she finally quieted down she half hung there like she'd given up hope. She was panting and her whole body was glistening with sweat. Beads of it had trickled down from her armpits. Seems out of place to speak of sweat and a girl. But that's the way it was. There was also very strong sweetness in the air girl -- smell. It really turned me on.
"Is it finished?" she asked at last.
"No.
She looked shocked. "Haven't I had fifteen?"
"Ten. Five more to go."
I'd expected an instant clamour for forgiveness but she silently digested the bad news. I felt certain she was facing the fact that having survived ten, she was not going to die under the other five. She kept flickering a glance at me hoping! When I did not respond she tried another approach.
"I hope you don't think I'll be able to like you after this?"
"I haven't even thought about it." I said.
"Don't you care?"
Foxy as all get out! Screaming her head off one minute, conning me the next. I set her straight. "You can get punished for being sulky, or coming out with those snarky comments" I said.
"Love under the lash!"
"Like that one." I said. "I ought to keep you gagged."
"But you won't. You'd be lonely."
The same thought had struck me. Damn rummy that I'd have sort of dependence on her. "I'll gag you sometimes, just as a lesson." I said gruffly. "You don't learn easy."
"You've taught me something with that beastly cane." she said grudgingly. She mused quietly for a few moments. "I wouldn't have believed it hurt so much or had such an effect on a girl. If it's any satisfaction to you I'II concede your physical superiority."
"But you still figure you're smarter than me."
"Oh, never mind! ' I don't want to be hurt any more than I have to be. Are you really going to hit me five more times?"
"It's six now. You were sarcastic."
"You don't have to do that!" She was angry again. "You'd be a fool to stop me being ME. You'll enjoy me much more if I'm intact. I can obey you without becoming a dummy."
"You'd never be a dummy."
"I will if you whip me every time I open my mouth."
"Alright. Say what you like. But I'm making no promises."
"When do you start hitting me with that cane again?"
"In one hour."
"A rest! Oh good! Let me down quick."
"You stay as you are." I said.
I could see her wilt. But her voice! Talk about indignant! "I can't rest like this! It's awful. It's such a punishment in itself." She looked at me - what's the word - balefully. "Unstrap my wrists, please. I promise I'II help you fasten me again."
"The way you are you'll have time to think. To know you're a slave."
"I'm a slave, I'm a slave, I'm a slave! ! Let me loose."
"You know better than that." I said.
I went away and slammed the door.