Author's Note: A business woman is kidnapped for revenge by a younger woman. This story is told alternately from the viewpoint of two people, Sadiax wrote as the young kidnapper and Graymangazer as the captive. The plot wasn't planned, just two people bouncing off one another.

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as we did writing it. Please feel free to comment.

Part 1

I felt frightened. I always thought I was tough, I make tough decisions every day, decisions often affecting people's lives, but now I know I am a woman alone, a frightened woman in a frightening situation.

The company car park has always been a place I hated; dark lonely and chill, but I had become blasé about it and I walked casually to my car. It was late, my car was the only one left on that floor and she was waiting for me, she walked out in front of me from behind a concrete pillar, I jumped in surprise, but she was young so I wasn't alarmed, but she also had a gun, it could have been a child's toy, it probably was but I am far from an expert on firearms, I knew though that when someone points a gun at you, you do what they tell you.

She snatched my bag away from me and I thought she would rob me so I tried to tell her that I didn't have much cash, but the barrel of the gun was pressed against my lips as a warning to be quiet. I began to tremble in fear as she pulled me to the back of the car and the tears started when she forced me into the trunk. I looked up at her as she closed the lid, I thought she looked familiar but I meet so many people in my job that it is hard to tell. As the car moved off I tried to stay calm and think what she might want with me; I was successful but I was hardly rich, not worth the risk of kidnapping for a ransom, if it was a man I would have been convinced that he intended to rape and murder me, but surely not a young woman, a pretty young woman at that. Why that should make a difference I didn't know, but I couldn't, I wouldn't believe such an attractive young woman really meant me harm.

As we travelled and I came to terms with the situation I began to think I might be able to get out of this, but she soon convinced me otherwise. When we arrived at our destination it was no more than five minutes later that I found myself in the position I am now; cuffed to a chair in a dank basement with a bag over my head.

I don't know how long I sat there, it felt like hours but could have been minutes but I jumped in fear and surprise when the bag was snatched from my head. She had changed her clothes, that was my first thought as I blinked against the light, gone were the jeans and hooded sweatshirt, in their place was a small black dress and four inch heels. She held a glass of wine in her right hand. She looked like a model and I felt drab and dowdy, she was so pretty, her dark hair and her makeup were perfect, whereas my suit was crumpled, I had holes in my stockings and my pride and joy; my long red hair was lank and stuck to my face and head with sweat, I didn't dare to think what my face looked like after all the tears and being under the hood. It seemed utterly ridiculous; I had been kidnapped at gunpoint, held in some stark cellar, I was maybe minutes away from death and I was concerned about my appearance.

I waited for her to speak, I had a thousand questions to ask but somehow I knew I should stay silent. She walked slowly around me as if inspecting me. She stood to my right and sipped her wine, I didn't know whether to look at her or not, somewhere in the back of my mind I thought that if I didn't remember her face I had a better chance of release.

"Miss Darby Davidson, not so high and mighty now are we?" she said.

I snapped my head around to face her, she knew my name and it now sounded like this was personal "I...I'm sorry, I don't know who you are, please tell me what you want?" I studied her smirking face, there was something about her, I tried to remember her but it was no good, I couldn't put a name to the face.

She placed her glass on a table to the side and moved behind me; I yelled when she suddenly pulled my head back by my hair, I was forced to look up at her, my mouth agape with the pain from my scalp. She caressed my cheek with her spare hand and ran the tips of her fingers lightly over my lips, I sat frozen in place as her hand slid down my stretched neck and into the top of my shirt, when her fingers wormed their way inside my bra I finally found my voice "P...Please don't," I pleaded quietly.

She grinned, her face upside down in my vision and I winced as she gripped my nipple between her thumb and forefinger, she squeezed and twisted, my nipple erupted in pain. When I looked up at her again she was excited and licking her top lip.

Whatever the reason she wanted me for, and whatever she planned to do to me, I felt that this was just the beginning.

Miss 'high and mighty' didn't even recognise me! She ruined my life; sitting there complacently at her computer, dealing with units and establishments rather than real people. To her, all I ever was was a press of a button and a problem dealt with. Fury rose in me like the fury I had felt twice before thanks to her. The arrogance of this bitch made me livid. This time, however I determined to keep myself under control. I can never remember who said that clever quote, but the person who remarked that revenge is a dish best served cold clearly had me in mind.

She winced and cringed gratifyingly as I tweaked that sweet little pink nipple. Her plea was honey to me, sweet to savour. I could unexpectedly feel myself dewing along my pussy. A delicious thrill ran through me as she whimpered and I could feel my own nipples erect in sympathy with hers.

The wine was delicious. My every sense was enhanced and alive. I could almost see the pulse racing at her delicate, pale throat. I watch her like a stalking cat watches an injured bird. She snatches glimpses up at me, in between dropping her gaze, frightened. She pulls surreptitiously at the cuffs. Good luck with that, I think smirking. Those cuffs are strong enough to hold my regular partner and he is far stronger that this fearful mouse.

'Please...' she begins again and wordlessly I put my glass down on the floor and clamp my hand forcefully across her quivering lips. She gurgles and squirms, tears coming to her eyes.

'Quiet' I hiss, my full red lips close to her well made ear, so close that the air stirs unkempt strands of that sweet red hair. I wonder if she's red down between her thighs too. I smile at the thought. There will be time enough to discover that in the coming minutes, hours and days.

Her lips move beneath my palm and I tut and sigh. I press harder and she stills.

'I don't want to hear anything from you Miss Darby Davidson' I tell her, my voice cold and brisk. She tries to move her head, eyes swivelling to look up at me, a most delicious blue. The pupils are dilated and so attractive. Her whole demeanour excites me more than I ever expected it would. In the beginning all I ever wanted was an explanation, an apology, some dignity. Quite when this became a sexual thing eludes me. Perhaps it was during the weeks of stalking, following, mapping out her life and waiting for the opportunity to get her alone. Suddenly though, she was in my fantasies and I had her image in my mind when I climaxed as I touched myself.

I slide my free hand back down that ruined blouse and push the bra aside roughly, enjoying the muffled squeal she makes as my fingers seek her little button of a nipple. I stroke it, small and hard. She knows what is coming and the tension unnerves her. I wait, building it. My fingers circle that delicious bud, my mouth watering as I imagine slipping it between my teeth and nibbling it.

But......time waits for no man, as they say. And very few women either no doubt. I remove both my fingers from her nipple and my palm from her mouth.

'So, Miss Davidson' I begin 'or, may I call you Darby?'

She nods, unsure, desperate not to anger me. I smirk.

'So, Darby....'

I step back, hands on hips and head cocked to one side, a little tipsy with the wine and the sudden power over this woman. She's older than me, around forty I would say, maybe a little older, but well preserved, slim and well groomed. I regard her appraisingly.

'So, Darby' I continue finally 'we have a problem'

My words are ominous and she recognises that. She begins to shake her head and I put a manicured forefinger to her pink lips, momentarily overcome with a mental image of her pussy lips and my finger there.

'I need something from you'

Her eyes are confused but already she knows better than to speak. I look forward to using a variety of gags on her, but I know that they will be just for my pleasure. She will be quiet when I command it.

'Contrition?' I ask, almost to myself.

Her eyes are wide and desperate and pleading, and so sexy.

'Atonement?'

I pick up the riding crop that lies hitherto unnoticed by her on the table in the darkened corner of the room with other instruments of incarceration and punishment.

'What do you think, Darby?'

My nipple hurts and I think I might cry, I am about to beg her to stop when she suddenly lets go, I sag into the seat with a groan. I can still feel the pain from her fingers. She drinks some more wine and I pull at the cuffs when she isn't looking but there is no give. She strolls across in front of me and she trips slightly; it's obvious that shes had more than the one glass. I look at her as she watches me but I can't hold eye contact, I'm scared to speak but I have to try to convince her to release me.

"Please," I start but her eyes bore into mine and she casually places her glass on the floor. As she squats her short dress rides up revealing the tops of her stockings and I find myself staring at her long legs, I wonder if she is doing it by design but suddenly she is upon me and clamps her hand over my mouth. I can't breath and struggle to free myself but she grips harder, I try but I can't talk and she warns me to stay quiet. I believe she is going to kill me and she thrusts her hand into my top to again she grips my breast, this time roughly and I try to plead with my eyes, I manage to get some air through my nose just as she touches my sore nipple. My nipple aches and it is hard, I think it must be through fear, I refuse to believe it could be for any other reason. She holds me there for a minute then as suddenly as she started she stops

"So, Miss Davidson, or may I call you Darby?" she asks. frightened of angering her I nod dumbly and she steps back.

She carries on speaking but the words don't entirely register, I am desperately trying to remember who she is so I can understand what she wants, I want to ask her but I'm too scared to speak now. I hear the words 'contrition' and 'Atonement' and realise that she imagines I have slighted her in some way. she moves out of my sight and returns seconds later, the clicking of her heels sound so ominous, she is idly swinging a riding crop from her fingers. She is so calm and in control, both mentally and physically.

"Oh God no please," I beg when I see the crop and realize the implications, but she just smiles, she is obviously enjoying this and that makes me more afraid. Then she pulls her other hand from behind her back and producers the gun again, she points it at my face and I feel myself on the verge of panic, she pulls the trigger and I scream.

I scream as she laughs, cold water strikes my face and she squirts more over my head and chest. She continues until the water pistol is empty and she laughs uncontrollably, I thought I was going to die and my tears mix with the water on my wet cheeks, it was a cruel prank and it has almost broken my spirit but her laughter serves to give me a little resolve and I force myself to stop crying. When she eventually stops giggling she tosses the fake gun into the corner, and with a flick of her wrist the crop stings my breast.

I yelp in shock and pain and I look down at myself, I am still wearing my shirt, but some of the buttons are missing and the soaked fabric is plastered to my breasts, my breasts that are clearly visible beneath the almost transparent material. The next strike again takes me by surprise, this time my other breast burns with pain. I cringe and try to turn away but she takes her time, casually flicking with the crop as she circles me, I never know when or where the crop will strike; it appears that my breasts are her main target but my arms, legs, shoulders, even my stomach aren't spared. I try to be brave, I don't want to cry again but the crop hurts and even though I know she isn't hitting me hard I can't stand it. But the worst thing is the feeling of complete helplessness, the knowledge that she can do whatever she wants and I can't do a thing to stop her.

It is too much and I start to blub, each strike forces me to beg and plead but through my sobs I'm sure nothing intelligible comes out, I feel ashamed that I have been defeated so quickly, but I have never in my life had to endure pain, I'm not prepared.

"Please, please, stop, I'm sorry, I'm sorry if I hurt you, I'll do whatever you want, please stop," I beg between sobs, at last she takes pity and stops hitting me, my head is hanging down and I can see only her feet but she puts the tip of the crop under my chin and lifts my head to face her. Her hips sway from side to side as she moves forward and sits astride my thighs, with her hands resting on my shoulders and the crop held behind my neck. Again I can't hold her gaze and lower my eyes, her forehead rests against mine and for a brief moment I think she is going to kiss me, but her lips stop an inch from mine and she whispers very quietly.

"Oh yes Darby you will, and much much more, who knows you may even like it, I know I will."

Her breath is hot on my lips and I imagine I can taste the wine she has been drinking. She holds that position for a minute and with my eyes downcast I can see her nipples poking through the material of her dress, and further down her spread thighs have caused the dress to ride up almost to her hips; the smooth white skin of her thighs framed by her hold up stockings and black lace panties pulled tight over her pussy, I'm not sure but I think I can see dampness where the panties pass over her lips. I am all too aware of the closeness of her mouth to mine and I let out a small whimper.

The moment ends when she springs to her feet as if she has just thought of something, I can feel my face burn from embarrassment, did she know how I was looking at her body? could she tell what I was thinking, no surely not. She tosses the crop onto the table and picks up a large pair of scissors, standing with one hand on her hip she clicks the scissors a few times in front of my eyes.

"As much as I love the wet look I think you would look even better naked." she says.

She looks at me imploringly, blue eyes wide amid streaked eyeliner. A pulse has begun in my crotch, a beat that reverberates through me. I can feel my arousal rising like a living thing, surging through my veins, heading for completion.

I take the scissors and she stills immediately when I place them against that once crisp blouse, now stained and rumpled by her struggles. I carefully snip off the buttons all the way down as she tries to shrink into herself and holds her breath. The blouse hangs open and reveals her taut belly, the skin pale and flawless. She sobs a little, biting her lip and looking away as if to deny that this is happening to her.

I go behind her and unlock the cuffs unthreading the chain from the wooden back of the chair and quickly, before she realises how free she is, I snap the cuff around her slender wrist and click it locked. I jerk her to her feet. She skitters on her heels like an hour old colt, seeking to keep her feet, my hand entwined in her luxuriant red hair. She is docile and compliant but that does nothing to calm me and I grip her face in one hand, my fingers biting into her pale cheeks, making her gasp as I force my lips to hers. Her breath is sour with fear but her lips are plump and soft and delicious. I crush them with mine and she whimpers, the noise muffled and pathetic. It excites me further and I pull the tatters of the blouse off her shoulders and down her arms where they tangle with the steel cuffs. She gasps breathlessly, eyes downcast and dazed.

I look for the scissors but they seem to have disappeared and I can't wait so I take the front of her bra in both hands and with strength fuelled by righteous anger I tear the garment at its join under her breasts. She whimpers again as her sweet heavy breasts fall free and her rosy nipples crinkle erect. She tries to draw her shoulders in and somehow cover herself and I laugh, high and mocking. I spy the scissors under the chair and picking them up I snip the straps at her shoulders.

'Please....' She whispers, her voice almost lost.

I slap a palm across her mouth, feeling the lips move helplessly as I stand on one foot to pull my knickers down, first one leg then the other.

She understands too late as I place the damp bundle to her lips and tries to twist her head away.

'Keep still, bitch' I hiss, a droplet of my spittle landing on her cheek. She knows that I mean business and struggling to control herself she obeys. I pack the drenched panties into her protesting mouth, using an index finger to wedge them in, only a small area of silky black shows between her white teeth. She looks panicked and I hold my hand over her mouth to help her calm down.

'You will not make a fucking sound, Little Miss Darby Davidson' I tell her, trying to keep my voice calm and reasonable.

She looks at me, her eyes so wide and fearful, so enticing, so arousing, pupils dilated; nostrils as well. Her breath warm on the back of my hand, stirring the tiny hairs there. My bare pussy feels swollen and the lips are parted like the petals of an exotic flower.

'Do you understand?'

She nods pathetically, as much as my tight grip will allow.

I go to the table and find the tape. She dare not move as I tear off a strip and plaster it across those sweet lips, pressing it down firmly. I add another couple of strips for security then step back to admire my handiwork. I do find a well gagged woman so.........sexy! My pussy twitches in response to her and I take her face in both hands, planting a forceful kiss on her sealed lips. I could swear she tries to respond and I step back to get a better look at that blushing face.

Nearly there, I think.

I tear off her skirt without any further ado and toss it into the corner of the basement cellar. My lips rise in a smile as I see her panties. Cotton! plain white with a cute little teddy bear design. I laugh at the unexpected sight.

'Oh dear Darby,' I tease and tut mockingly. She blushes deep to the roots of her hair 'A teddy bear?'

She closes her eyes tight and a single tear forces its way out of her right eye and trickles down her face slowly.

'The woman who ruined my life wears teddy bear knickers?' my voice is disbelieving.

Her eyes open at my words and I can see her straining for recognition. I don't allow her the time though. Her bewilderment is now amusing to me. I pull the knickers down her long legs and expose a sweet, plump pubis, sparsely covered with red hair. The labia peep out, white and open to coral pink.

I can feel myself salivating as I gaze at that sweet, sweet, delicate pussy.

I break the spell by sitting on the seat and pulling her down across my lap, my hands greedily caressing the twin globes of her buttocks.

'So, Darby......'

She makes a small interrogative noise, muffled by the gag.

'So...........'

I squeeze those round, firm buttocks. Somebody works out, I muse. My index finger seeks between her buttocks and traces down her cleft to the tight rosebud of her anus. She squeals and squirms, panicking as I tap the tip of my finger there. Her slender wrists tug at the cuffs and she tries to get off my knee but my free hand is at the nape of her neck.

'Shhhh, darling Darby' I talk to her as though to a baby 'Be nice and still or you will regret it' I warn.

She whines miserably and her breath hitches.

'We talked about contrition' I tell her 'but I'm not seeing too much of that here....' My finger presses harder and penetrates her just a few millimetres. She screams into her tight gag, trying to clench her buttocks as I slide it in another centimetre. Her anus is tight and velvet against my finger.

'I have been amazingly easy on you considering the circumstances' I hiss into her small ear 'but if you cannot obey and allow me my way I will punish you. I will punish you harshly.'

I twist her hair in my free hand making her wince and sob.

'Is that what you want?'


Part 2 (added: 2014/03/24)

I don't know what she wants from me; I don't know how to respond. Why is she being so cruel to me? I surely haven't done anything to deserve this. But then I think I must have.

I tense and scream as her finger pushes into my bottom a little more, It feels huge, though I know she has slim delicate hands I have never had anything in me there before, I am feeling totally possessed by her; every time I open my eyes it seems her face is there, If I look away I find myself staring at another part of her body and with her panties in my mouth my head seems filled with her, I smell her, I taste her, and now she is inside me, inside my most private place.

"I will punish you harshly, is that what you want?" she asks. I feel like screaming in my anger and frustration, of course that's not what I want, I want out of here, but I believe she means it as she pulls my hair, I try to tell her I'm sorry for whatever it is that I have done but the gag prevents anything resembling speech.

I groan as her finger eases into me, deep, I can feel her knuckles pressing against my bottom; my neck is stretched as she pulls my head back by my hair. I can feel her close and I shiver when her teeth nip my earlobe, I can't help it, it's something that always excites me.

"Do you like this Darby?" she whispers. For a second I think she knows, but then I realize she is talking about her invasion of my body.

I whimper, the only sound I can make, I try to tell her how I love it, though it's not the truth I'm hoping my compliance will please her. But of course she doesn't understand me. She withdraws her finger and then thrusts it back and I writhe and moan.

"I have many toys much bigger than this, we're going to have fun with them aren't we?" her lips are brushing my ear as she speaks, my scalp hurts but her finger is steadily moving in and out of my arse sending my brain mixed signals; I should hate it, I do hate it, but it feels so...feels so...I don't want to admit it...it feels so good.

I am ashamed of myself; this woman, this...this bitch has abused me, humiliated and tortured me, she has God knows what else planned for me, but I can't stop my body reacting to her. How could I possibly enjoy something so cruel, so humiliating? Why am I moving my hips as she gloats? Suddenly she removes her finger and pushes my head down, I scream into the gag as she slaps the back of my thigh, once, hard, she has taken me by surprise, changed tactics.

"You want your pleasure Darby dear you have to earn it, or pay for it." her hand slips between my legs and I feel her fingertips graze along the lips of my pussy. I squirm on her lap. My arse now feels empty, my leg stings where she slapped me but I want her to touch me. I make a noise like a cat purring and she giggles; she knows what I'm feeling, and my humiliation is complete. Still giggling she pulls her hand away and spanks me, she spanks me as though I am a naughty child, it's not a frenzied slapping, no, and she is enjoying it, taking her time as if savouring each individual smack. I jerk with every strike but I don't struggle, in my confused mind I believe I deserve this, I have shamed myself. Through eyes blurred by tears I can see my panties where she dropped them on the floor, I can see Teddy and I'm sure he's mocking me, I hate him, irrationally I blame him for what is happening. Her hand lands at regular intervals, stinging, burning, soon my hips are writhing again, but this time in pain, the constant punishment on the same small area is becoming too much for me. I whine behind the gag begging her to stop, I can't take anymore; I just know I will go insane If it continues.

I can think of nothing but the pain and hurt, it seems to fill my mind and there is nothing I can do to stop it. I am screaming in my head, promising to be good, swearing that I will be contrite, that I will do whatever she says, anything, If only she would have mercy. Then as suddenly as she started she stops, it takes me a few seconds to realize that there are no more slaps, but the terrible burning sensation remains. I lay still, sobbing quietly, tense, expecting more blows to land at any second. My body jerks and spasms as I feel her hand on my thigh, she moves up and over my buttocks, I whimper fearing she is going to strike me again, Oh God please no more?

"My my Darby, we certainly brought a rosy glow to your cheeks didn't we?" I can feel her hand laying on my bottom making that spot feel even hotter "right, up you get," she says as she eases me from her lap. My legs feel weak and I stumble, she stands beside me and takes hold of my shoulders to steady me. When she leaves me I stay in the same position; slightly stooped with my head bowed, feeling defeated and subdued. I want to sooth my burning bum but I can't quite reach with my hands cuffed.

"Stand up straight," she commands from behind me, I can feel her pulling at my arms and something tightening around them just above my elbows. I let out a long groan as my arms are forced together, almost touching, straining my shoulders, this forces me to stand upright and I totter on my three inch heels. She wraps what I guess is a collar about my neck and buckles it snuggly in place. Of all the things she has done to me this one simple act has me feeling defeated, it seems symbolic, this may have all started as some sort of revenge, but it's clear it will be no quick fix. She means to keep me here, for how long I can't guess but I realise I won't be leaving anytime soon.

"See how they stand out, how proud they look," she breathes, she is standing behind me, whispering into my ear. Her arms encircle me and she caresses my breasts which are now thrust forward. Her fingers play over my nipples and I am again shamed; I don't have to look at them to know that they are suddenly erect. Her body is pressed up against me and I can feel her own nipples digging into my back, my captured hands can feel her pussy through her dress.

Images fill my mind; her stocking clad thighs, her nipples poking through her dress, her teeth nipping my ear, her lips pressed to mine. I have to use all my will power not to move my fingers against her pussy. What in hell is happening to me?

Her hand slides down over my stomach and I inhale quickly as her fingertips entwine in the short hairs there and I whimper yet again as one finger touches my clit.

"Nice?" she asks and her tongue flicks over my ear. I feel weak and I lean back into her, my hands search for her and I shudder as I feel her softness through the silky material of her dress. She gives a low throaty chuckle and I open my eyes that I didn't realise were closed.

The spell is broken, I am looking at the table and for the first time I can clearly see the things that she has there. She squeezes my nipple making me groan and she chuckles again and it gradually turns to laughter.

She's shaking and quivering. I can smell her heat coming off her in waves. Her eyes are slightly unfocussed and her legs are trembling. She's on the edge and it will not take much to push her over. Her red hair is damp and dishevelled; her breathing is hoarse through her nose. My heart races at her discomfort and the reduction of this proud, haughty bitch to a shivering, desperate mess. My revenge is beginning to take shape.

'So, Darby.....' my lips find her earlobe as she moans and grunts into the gag, swaying against me. My fingers examine her pussy, parting those swollen lips and seeking the nectar within. She feels hot to the touch and is literally dripping with excitement. She closes her eyes and appears to be praying.

'So..would you like me to allow you some relief?'

Her eye squeeze shut and through the pale lashes a tear swells, and swells, becoming gravid before finding a tipping point of mass and tracking slowly down her cheek and across the slick tape to hang on her fine chin. She makes no other answer to my calm, teasing enquiry, but that is enough. Taking her face in both hands I hold her still while I lick the tear with the tip of my tongue, following its trail, silvery in the subdued light, up to her eye.

She is shivering uncontrollably now as if she is feverish, moaning and thrusting her pelvis as though fucking the very air.

I step back, hands on hips and a crooked smile playing on my lips, head tilted to take it all in. her eyes flick open wide and she begs mutely with them.

I shake my head, slowly, mockingly.

'No'

Her eyes are a picture of torment, her chest heaves and her thighs press together. She sobs once into the damp panties stuffing her mouth. I move to the table and find the leash amongst the other items.

'Stay still' I command, eyes locked on hers. She obeys, beginning to regain some focus in them. I click the leash onto its corresponding ring on the collar and squat to remove her shoes. Without ceremony I drag her from the cellar, her bare feet slipping on the cool concrete. We stop outside the door and I slip the bag down over her head again, hooding her. I still haven't decided what to do with her and I don't want her seeing too much of my home. I drag her, stumbling and frightened up the stairs and along the hallway then up more stairs to my bedroom.

'Down' I command, pulling on the leash and she sinks to her knees. I smile. Still some grace there in the way she does that. I crouch beside her and tug on the leash, wrapping it around the bed leg and locking it in place with a padlock. I place the key on my bedside table and check her bonds. The hood is secure enough, and the handcuffs are escape proof. Her wrists are red from pulling at the cuffs but the skin is not broken.

Good, I think as I sink down onto the bed with a sigh. It's been a long day. I ease out of my dress and pull the stockings down my long legs. Reaching round my back I unfasten my bra and pull it off with another contented sigh. I am elated as well as excited. Darby Davidson is all mine! The woman who ruined everything is now my toy. I can do whatever I like with her and thanks to her I have all the time in the world to do it. Poetic justice I think.

Naked I run my hands over my body, teasing up the pale nipples and stroking across my flat tummy to the waxed area between my thighs. I am not at all surprised to find myself open and wet. I caress my labia, inserting the tip of a finger before withdrawing it to taste. I purr softly and without stopping I use my free hand to reach across to the drawer in the bedside table and withdraw the orange vibrator. Its wide head is perfect for stimulating the area around my clitoris and I twist the base one handed to turn it on. It begins, filling the air with its low, insistent buzzing at the lowest setting.

I lay back on my elbows watching my captive sprawling on the floor, naked, hooded and gagged, cuffed and chained to my bed at last. The sight of her pale skin, the tracery of freckles on her arms and chest excites me. There are red patches on that white skin from where I have punished her, her buttocks are reddened still and her nipples remain proud and so pink and mouth-watering.

I stretch a little so I can put my bare feet on my prize and push her onto her back as I apply the vibrator to my burning pubis, sending electric thrills through me as it contacts the aching bud of my clit. I close my eyes, using my feet to push her, to trample her as I seek my release. She moans and grunts lightly beneath the sack on her head and it is sweet music to me, pushing my climax nearer. I circle the vibrator expertly, teasing myself until I can bear it no more and opening my eyes to take in the sight of my prisoner, literally beneath my feet, I press against my surging clitoris and the waves of vibrations combined with my burning excitement drive me over the edge to a grinding, panting orgasm. Waves of intensity burst outward through my whole body and leave me weak and dazed but satisfied in a way that I haven't been since I first heard that my life was being turned upside down at the whim of this woman.

Minutes pass before I am recovered enough to consider practicalities and I climb unsteadily to my feet and unlock her leash from the bed.

'Get up, bitch!' I snap and she hurriedly struggles first to her knees then her feet. It makes me smile to see her struggle. I wrap the end of the leash around my fist and lead her to the bathroom, yanking down to seat her on the toilet. A small interrogative noise issues from beneath the sack and I laugh, cruelly.

'One chance, darling Darby' I tell her 'Use it, you won't be able to until the morning if you don't.'

She reddens, a flush emanating from beneath the hood to warm her chest and it makes me chuckle.

I turn away, adding toothpaste to my brush and brushing my teeth. After the long day, it feels good to be clean. I brush hard, watching her. She sits still; frightened, before finally overcoming her inhibitions and the sound of her spray hitting the water indicates how long she has held it in. I pause to consider. Maybe six hours have elapsed since her capture at the empty office building. When she is finish I allow her a second to drip dry then jerk her wordlessly upright. I switch places with her and force her to her knees in front of me.

I piss languidly, unashamed. The noise is loud and I hum to myself, one hand stroking her hooded face as I relieve myself.

Minutes later I am washed and we have returned to the bedroom. I return her to the floor by the bed and lock her leash back in place.

I sink back in bed and pull the covers snugly over my nakedness, turning off the lamp.

'Goodnight darling Darby' I whisper in the darkness 'sleep well. We have a busy day tomorrow.....'


Part 3 (added: 2014/03/24)

Such sweet and delicate skin.

She's so pale. The dusting of freckles on her nose and cheeks enhance and display her beauty. The red hair hangs down, a mass of loose curls, still damp to the touch of my fingers as I instruct her to lean forward so I can get to the buckle of the gag. The nape of her neck is fine and delicate and white. I stroke it as I unbuckle the gag. My arousal is mounting and I can barely stop myself from panting, so high is the heat in my throbbing pussy.

I place my cupped hand by her mouth and tell her to spit out the ball, and with some effort she does, a string of fine saliva connecting the rubber ball to her mouth. I wipe it, making her blush becomingly under the blindfold.

'So......?'

She takes a deep breath and sobs. She whispers something.

'I can't hear you, Darby. Speak up or we may have to replace the gag' I caution her.

'Please...' Her voice is thick and heavy with emotion.

'........................'

I am about to ram the ball back into her mouth and fetch the crop when she speaks again.

'Please.......may I...?'

'Speak more clearly, Darby' my patience is on a knife edge.

'Please, May I please you?' a tear blossoms beneath the edge of the blindfold and swells and finally trickles down her delicate cheek.

'Mistress...' I suggest sweetly.

Her blush deepens to crimson as she repeats the request.

'Please, may I please you, Mistress?'

'Good girl, Darby'

I press one hand to the back of her head and he face moves forward, her soft lips touching the inflamed lips of my sex. I shiver and bite my lip about to scream with the moment. Months of preparation have gone into this one moment of exquisite submission and recompense. Just the first of many. My anguish, my humiliation, the agony and pain and distress that this woman has caused me can now begin to be repaid.

And repaid they will be, in full.

I struggle to keep my voice steady. I tell her to please me. Her lips form and kiss me there and I can feel all of her acquiescence in them. I sigh and close my eyes. One hand remains at the back of her head, cradling it as she warms to her task. Her small, pink tongue emerges and I almost climax there and then as I look down between my thighs to see it there, on my waxed pussy, seeking softly between my swollen lips and tracing the inner ones, seeking my core. If she hasn't done this before then she's a natural. It's bliss as she seeks the entrance to my vagina. She moans softly, her breath warm on me as she closes on it and tastes the stronger musk there.

'Darby' I whisper as she works at me. She does not stop. Already she is learning.

'From now on you will always address me as Mistress.....'

She stiffens a little but surely this cannot come as a total surprise to her. We've been building to it, the collar, the nakedness, sleeping at the foot of my bed. All were softening her up to this moment.

She says nothing, but continues diligently applying her tongue and lips at my dripping pussy. I shudder, my fingers tightening in her red tresses as the tip of her tongue penetrates me. I find my pelvis gyrating unconsciously.

'Yes' my voice is hoarse.

'There....'

'Just like that'

I begin to grind my pussy against her face, a trace of cruelty surging in me, delighting in the sight of her blindfolded face, smeared and glistening between my thighs. She gasps and chokes a little as I force my cunt against her, excitement getting the better of me for a minute, my composure evaporating.

'Come on you little bitch!' I hiss between clenched teeth and she stiffens fearfully. But she obeys, applying her mouth and tongue harder, faster, and deeper.

I grasp her tighter and force my pubis against her so she can barely breathe. She renews her efforts, desperate to please me. I can feel her struggling, and it excites me beyond belief. Suddenly I'm there and my climax has come out of nowhere to overwhelm me. I make her squeal, the sound vibrating against me as I twist her hair tighter. She is struggling, hands pulling wildly at the cuffs and making sweet little tinkling jingles with her nipple bells and it's enough to throw me right over the edge.

When I come round I'm on my back on the bedroom floor, curled into a foetal ball and she's on the other side of the room lying quietly, limp like a discarded toy.

I smile; my body feels warm and glowing in every molecule. A golden radiance fills me.

'Darby?'

She raises her head, her face wet and shining with my juices, smeared crudely all over her lips and mouth. I can sense that she's been crying. It makes my pussy throb anew watching her.

'Yes?' She asks her voice far away and gentle, filled with disbelief.

'Yes what?' I snap, making her jump.

'Yes Mistress!' she blurts without a pause for thought. She lowers her head, ashamed of herself, but I am conversely proud. I cross to her on hands and knees, a cat stalking her prey. I take her blindfolded head between my two palms and, holding her still, I kiss her lips softly, meaningfully.

'Good girl, Darby' I tell her 'I think we're beginning to get there'

She smiles shyly; A smile to melt the heart. Hope is there, and pride. I smile a smile of my own, a smile that she does not see, but one that would chill her if she did.

It is a beginning, that much is true, but we have a very long way to go yet before her contrition is complete, a very long way indeed.

I allow her a second of warmth before using the leash to drag her to her feet. She sobs a little as the leash tightens and hurries to scramble upright. I lead her across the bedroom and pull down on the leash indicating that she should kneel.

She obliges me and saves herself a spanking by doing so, kneeling prettily by the bed as I open the wardrobe, searching through my wardrobe for something suitable to wear and perhaps a little something for her too....

Less than a day:

Yesterday I was a strong woman, confident, influential; people asked for my advice and followed my instructions. I had authority over my subordinates, I was respected and dare I say it, I was feared.

But it has taken her less than a day to strip it all away, to reduce me to this; a frightened, nervous creature, a toy to be played with, an object to be used and tormented at the whim of a woman half my age. The things that she has done to me, the way she talks to me and treats me; one word keeps bouncing around my head, a word terrifying by its implications. The word is 'Slave.'

I am naked, on my knees and wearing a collar, my hands are cuffed behind me and I am instructed to refer to her as Mistress. I wait for her to abuse me or command me. What else could I be but a slave, the thought frightens me, she frightens me. I'm frightened even to talk but I know I must.

"P, please Mistress, may I speak," my voice sounds timid and pathetic but calling her Mistress comes so easy to me even after such a short time.

"Of course Darby my darling, as long as it's not something that I don't want to hear," she answers me in the way she might reply to a question about the weather "now what is it you want?"

"Mistress, please may I have something to eat? I'm so hungry," I haven't eaten since yesterday morning and despite my fears I have to speak out. She has been busy opening and shutting doors and drawers, mumbling to herself, but she stops whatever she is doing and I cringe in fear and expectation of some sort of punishment.

"Oh my Darby you are insatiable, you ate just a few minutes ago," she chuckles and I hear her approach and again her fingers are entwining in my hair.

Has she misunderstood me or is she just playing yet another game with me? "I, I'm sorry Mistress, I, I meant food, p, please," I explain in a scared voice, I'm so afraid of making the smallest mistake. She is standing so close I can feel the heat emanating from her body and I can smell her musky scent, thoughts flash through my mind; Thoughts of what I had done just minutes before, how I thought that I would hate it, how I thought I would throw up but how proud of myself I was when she orgasmed. Without conscious thought I lean forward and gently, almost lovingly kiss her pussy. I don't know why I'm doing it, I think I must be trying to please her in the hope she will show me some compassion. Even so I can feel my pulse beating faster. I hear a sharp intake of breath and she pulls my mouth hard against her, and as if it has a mind of its own my tongue slides between her lips and the tip flicks over her clit.

"Mmmm. That's nice; I really do believe you like this don't you?" she teases, then she chuckles and pushes me back onto my heels "we'll get you dressed first then find us something to eat," I am both ashamed and elated; ashamed about the way I have so easily been defeated, how I am so eager to please her and how I seem to become aroused doing something that just minutes ago I considered repulsive. But I am elated at the prospect of wearing clothes again, just to be treated as a person again, could she be weakening? Is my ordeal coming to an end? I lick the wetness from my lip, tasting her again and I kneel patiently as she resumes what she was doing.

"Open," I hold my jaws wide with my head tilted back waiting to be fed like a small chick in the nest. She drops a piece of toast spread with marmalade into my mouth and I chew and swallow greedily, I feel absurdly grateful to her for feeding me, I want to thank her but she holds the rim of a glass to my lips and I sip the milk offered.

We are in the kitchen and she is sitting at the table eating a late breakfast while I kneel obediently at her side. She chats about mundane things as if we are just two friends enjoying a snack together. She eventually mentions the economy and sounds bitter when she talks about how few job opportunities there are "But you would know all about that wouldn't you? Even though you couldn't care less," and spitefully she slaps me on the head, I yelp but I believe I have a clue as to why she is doing this to me.

Her mood has changed now; once again she is the victim looking for revenge. She stands and noisily clears away the breakfast things, my blindfold has been moved slightly when she slapped me and I can see a sliver of light at the bottom, I say nothing, it is the only advantage I have had since she took possession of me. I watch her feet clad in black high heels walk across in front of me, I am careful not to move my head; I don't want to give her a hint that I can see, no matter how limited my vision. As I look down I am able to see something of the 'clothes' she has dressed me in, the short black corset that she laced so tight, what I thought was a bra is in fact a mesh of thin straps which emphasize my breasts and leave them exposed and vulnerable, I can see the tops of the stockings around my thighs but not my shoes, my feet are tucked up behind me but I can feel the tall thin heels digging into my bottom, they are higher than I would normally wear and I have trouble keeping my balance when walking in them. She informed me earlier that I wasn't permitted to wear panties. I can also just see the belt buckled around my waist and my hands flapping uselessly at the sides, each wrist locked into a chrome cuff attached to the side of the belt. It was so good to have my hands at last released but I am again as helpless as ever, my collar completes my costume but for the clamps; I can see them now, they're pink with small round silver bells, the kind a kitten would play with. I hate the bells, every tinkle reminds me of how my breasts are moving and bouncing. She loves them, she told me so, she plays a game; she will flick my nipple to make the bell ring and that's the signal for me to shake my chest, it's humiliating and painful as the clamps bite on my sore nipples. This started only an hour ago and already I respond immediately, I have learnt quickly, her training is working well.

"Come on slut, we've lots to do," she grips my upper arm and roughly pulls me up, in the ridiculous heels I tower over her but I feel infinitely inferior. With a tug on the leash I stumble forward and I have to trust her that I won't walk into anything. I hear her close a door behind me and then she removes my blindfold, we are at the top of some stairs with another door at the bottom, the light is dim but I know we are about to enter the basement again. This is one place I don't want to go and I try to hold back but she tugs the leash and glowers at me. Pathetically I shake my tits trying to appease her but she ignores me and leads me down, I look at the approaching doorway as though it is a sign of my impending doom and I am compelled to speak.

"Please Mistress, I'll be good, I promise I'll make it up to you, whatever I did, please don't hurt me anymore," I can't stop myself, my legs are shaking, I'm almost on the verge of panic.

She stops and turns to me, I shrink back thinking she will slap me but her mood changes again as if someone has flicked a switch "Oh my sweet sweet Darby, you look so frightened," she moves in close and strokes my cheek, her lips are almost touching my mouth "I like it, it excites me when you are frightened," when her lips press against mine I automatically close my eyes and open my mouth to accept her tongue. The kiss is brief but she stays close, her lips move against mine as she speaks "you are right to be frightened, you have a lot to be frightened of," and she jerks me into the room. I stumble after her, I can hear my heart beating and my blood pounding but it doesn't drown out the sound of the hated bells.

"Ugghh. Please Mistress it hurts," I am ashamed of my begging but I can't help it, my shoulders feel like they will dislocate at any second.

When we entered her dungeon, for that's how I think of this room, she strapped my elbows again but released my hands, I don't know if I'm grateful or not; my wrists had become so sore but now there is more pain in my upper arms.

"Place your palms together," she ordered, I obeyed, I have learnt not to hesitate when she commands me. The single glove slid easily up my arms and she spent a long time buckling it securely and lacing it tight, and all the time she talked to me, telling me how she loves to tie me and how beautiful I am in bondage, how my body was made to be tied. It's not what I want to hear but I think she really means it. With my arms pulled together my breasts push forward into the straps encasing them and she casually strokes them, squeezes and jiggles them, my clamped breasts are no more than toys to her. I don't protest, there's no point, I would only make my situation worse. A three foot spreader bar holds my feet wide apart and she pulls down a rope with a hook on the end, attaching it to a ring on the end of the glove she hauls my arms up and I am forced to bend forward.

"Ugghh. Please Mistress it hurts."

"I know my sweet, but it pleases me and you haven't even begun to atone for your sins."

Her hands run over my body caressing my taut skin and stretched muscles, I whimper as her long fingernails scrape lightly down between my buttocks and through my labia, and I yelp shrilly when those same nails grip and squeeze my clitoris.

"Every bit of pleasure has to be tempered with pain Darby darling, You must learn to be humble and to earn the pleasure I give," to my ears it sounds like the ramblings of a mad person but I can't deny my body and what I feel; I am in pain and discomfort but in my head I am willing her to touch me.

"This is so nice Darby, you look so sexy the way your arms and legs are stretched, it makes me think I want to keep you," she is squatting before me holding my head up by my hair so I am looking at her. She is wearing a catsuit, the shiny black latex clings to her body like a second skin and the neckline is cut into a deep 'V' between her breasts. Even in my desperate situation I can't help comparing her lithe body with my more mature form. She smiles in my face and ties something into my hair to keep my head up.

As she walks away, I watch her go, marvelling at her sleek form which seems to sway and ripple, every step is like a majestic performance. When she returns she stands facing me and licks her lips, I can't seem to tear my eyes away from that red mouth. Her words 'keep you' echo inside my head like an alarm bell, I am in pain and I know it's going to get worse but I stare at her glistening lips and can only think of how they felt against my own.

"What shall we start with my sweet? Which do you think will help you to be humble, to be contrite?" she holds out her hands; from the right hangs a strap with the biggest dildo I have ever seen, the left holds the handle of a whip, it's many tails cascade down and over her fist. I know I should be more frightened than I am but I am resigned to my fate, I watch her in silence, I have no answer because I know I will be feeling both very soon no matter what I say.

Her body is confined in a state of utter helplessness. The black leather of the armbinder contrasts so beautifully with her pale skin with its sprinkling of freckles. She squirms a little as she looks wide eyed at the choice before her. She is not sure whether the question was rhetorical or not. I am a capricious woman and top marks to little Darby for spotting that most fundamental facet of my character. She chooses the wisest path and remains silent. Her eyes are fixed on me, red rimmed and blurry with her tears.

I smile sweetly, lips pulling back over my teeth. I feel an urge to bite that pleading, desperate face, take her lips between my teeth and let her know how much power I hold over her.

Time stretches as I watch her, like a cat stalking a cornered mouse.

"A wise decision dear Darby" I purr.

She swallows as the tension releases, a small sob escaping her quivering lips.

"Because......of course we will be using both toys."

Her eyes widen in horror as she again contemplates the dildo, hanging dark and ominous. In the light of the basement it gleams. I shake my head slowly and those scared blue orbs swivel to regard the whip.

"The whip first, I think. It serves well to get the slut into the right frame of mind, don't you think?"

The look in her eyes makes my insides clench and I almost stagger. My arousal is coming on fast now and sadism rises like a wraith within me. I straighten, character shifting once more and she begins to weep quietly as she regards the change. She shivers and cannot help jerking at her bonds but she is tied well by an expert and can barely move. The bells ring mockingly, the sound track to her torment. She will come to recognise this shift well as it bodes badly for her.

I put down the whip and stand in front of her, so she can watch me, horrified as I strap the harness around my hips, the thick dildo standing out threateningly from my groin. I buckle the straps and adjust the cock patiently. I step forward until my cock is right in front of her face and she closes her eyes knowing what is coming but unable to prevent it.

"You know what to do" my voice is uninflected and the moment stretches endlessly until she conjures the will to open her mouth and enfold the gleaming head between her soft sweet lips. Her eyes open and she looks shyly up at me, the thick shaft cushioned by her teeth.

"Suck it"

She stretches her bound body, straining a little to encompass the dildo deeper into her mouth and begins to work her lips and tongue on it. Her eyes have closed again in deep shame and I tell her to open them. She complies. Her tear-filled eyes, her hair beginning to become lank and unkempt with sweat and heat and fear, each arouse me further.

"Harder, deeper Darby, Suck it like you mean it," she sobs and obeys, making desperate love to the dildo, accompanied by the teasing tinkling of the little bells on her nipples. She is red with embarrassment by now. A flush stretches from her forehead to the middle of her chest. Tears run down her cheeks.

"You are nearly ready" I tell her as I step back, dragging the dildo from lips that feel slightly reluctant to let go of their prize. A string of saliva connects the thick black cock to her lips, a string of diamonds in this light before it shatters and swings back onto her chin. She's unable to wipe it away and it hangs there accusingly for a second, before it drips to the floor.

I go behind her and inspect her. Her bottom is well presented, a sweet pale orb, pink labia squeezing between the cheeks. They are puffy and inflamed. I thrust a finger between them and it easily slides into her wet pussy. She shrieks at the suddenness of the invasion and her muscles flutter uselessly along the length of my finger as she struggles to bite off the noise.

Good girl, I think. You are learning; But not quick enough. I snatch up the ball gag and strap it roughly into her mouth, forcing the ball behind her teeth and pulling back on the straps until she grimaces, cheeks pulled back, before buckling them.

I stroll back between her exposed, restrained bum and pussy. The head of the dildo brushes her lips and she makes and tortured muffled groan, half anguish and half delight. Nearly the right ratio, but not quite, I muse to myself.

I pick up the whip. Swishing out its tails I give it an experimental lash through the air. The sharp, whistling noise it makes unnerves her completely and she begins to scream helplessly into the gag, making me glad that my decision was entirely vindicated.

'Mistress' she tries to scream, an exhortation, a plea, becomes 'MMMGGGGRRRRRR'. I send the lashes on their way and she bucks and jolts, pulling at her bonds and crying out uncontrollably as it connects with the pale whiteness of her exposed cheeks and thighs. Immediately a series of red lines appear on that whiteness, radiating out in sharp lines of pain. She tries desperately to escape but cannot make any impact on her restraints.

"Stand still, bitch" I hiss at her as I continue to lash her across her bum and thighs. Occasionally she will pull especially violently as one of the tails catches her pussy and it makes me smile to see her. Finally she is beginning to take her punishment for the harm she did me. She finally gets some control on her fear and panic and endeavours to stand as still as she can. Her sobbing becomes a nasal hyperventilation as she struggles to obey, knowing that it is her only chance.

Finally I stop and stroke her sobbing flank, gently. She is ready.

I lube the dildo contemplatively as we watch each other. She is on the edge of hysteria still, balanced on a knife edge.

Finally I enter her.

There is a moment of stillness, a sense of connection as I slide the thick cock into her. I push forward into her, my hands grabbing her hips and using them to steady me. She makes a long, shuddering, sobbing sigh into the ball that stretches her lips and jaws. Her eyes search for me but the way that I have tied her hair prevents it and she again, sighs.

The rubber of the cat suit is cool I know against her throbbing, stinging cheeks as I penetrate her fully and my tummy is pressed into her bottom.

"I'm going to fuck you now, Darby" I tell her, my voice is cool and detached, although inside my emotions are tumultuous. I cannot begin to understand them, but I am aware of being overcome by them, and having to shove it all to one side for the moment to allow myself to enjoy the moment.

"I'm going to fuck you like the nasty little bitch that you are."

She moans as her fear rises, ugly and claustrophobic within her, threatening to choke her. My hands go around her throat from behind as my clit throbs madly, making me close my eyes for a second. She stiffens as I begin to fuck her, my hands holding her tight, thumbs over her windpipe, letting her know again how her life is in my hands. I tighten the grip just enough to make her worry as my pace begins to increase and before she knows it, her moans are entirely from arousal. I fuck her long and deep. My hips pump rhythmically and the only sounds now are her gentle moaning and the metronomic slap of my latex clad stomach against her naked rump.

One hand goes between her thighs and seeks out her pulsing clit, easing the hood back and teasing out the small hard bump. She gasps and struggles, bells jingling and begins to push her hips back to meet mine and I fuck her harder, sensing her approaching orgasm. I consider denying her but it's too late and she screams into the gag, throwing her head back, mouth stuffed, veins and tendons standing out on her throat, muscles tensing, bucking and struggling she climaxes.

It goes on for almost a minute and her ankles jolt in the cuffs of the spreader bar, her bells jingle crazily, her hips become a blur, thrusting, pushing back against the thick, blunted head of the cock, arching her back until she subsides and falls limply against her bonds. The French call it le petit mort for a reason and she is far away and dazed for some time. I pull out of her leaving her sobbing and pulling, her hands twisting within the sleeve as she seeks to draw me, her tormentor, to her for comfort. Tears run down her cheeks as she tries to turn her head towards me.

'I think you need some thinking time Darby' I tell her as I coolly remove the dildo harness.

She's in a sack; A black leather sack to be precise. Straps lock her arms to her sides and lash her legs together. Straps run down the black leather at her shoulders, above and below her breasts, across her tummy, over her thighs, at her knees and ankles. A sinister black leather hood encases her head and incorporates a wide, mouth covering gag with a thick, two inch, penis shaped protrusion which stuffs her mouth and silences her, and a padded blindfold which covers her eyes.

I'm sitting on her chest. My knees are either side of her head. My pussy is throbbing, aching for release and that is what I am going to give it. I unpin the snaps on the blindfold to reveal her eyes, wide and blue, blinking and disembodied against the thick, taut, black leather.

I ease the gusset of the cat suit to one side and insert two fingers between my dripping, bare pussy lips, parting them, so she can see the glistening, pink interior and the clit, swollen and ready. She strains in the sack, gratifying me with her struggles and making my excitement mount.


Part 4 (added: 2014/03/24)

I must keep calm. I'm frightened and close to panic, but I have to keep calm.

All is total blackness, any sound I do hear is muffled, and in fact I'm not sure it isn't just in my head. I can't speak, I can't even move my jaws, but worse I can't move my body. She put a hood on my head; not a loose fitting bag like before but a tight, thick leather hood. She spent forever tightening and retightening the laces and buckles, the only opening was a hole for my mouth but this was soon filled when she pushed a thick stubby leather object through the gap. It stretched my jaws to the limit making the hood feel even tighter, that was when I first felt panic, when I couldn't breathe, but I discovered air holes under my nose. Then she encased me; something, rubber or leather, I'm not sure which, was wrapped around my body and the straps? Held me firm, so very firm. All the other times she had tied me I was able to move, to struggle and writhe, but not this time, now I'm immobile, I can't even find the leverage to strain against the bonds. I can't believe how totally bound I am and I can't believe how I just laid here meek and compliant the whole time she did it.

Now as I lay in silent total darkness images flash through my mind, horrifying visions, pictures of her lowering my mummified form into a shallow grave or nailing me into a coffin where I will never be found. With a supreme effort I manage to push the thoughts away before I go insane, and I know that here in my helpless state I have to trust her, trust that she won't kill me, trust that she has more use for me and that she will ultimately look after me. Can I trust her? I have to, I have no choice. I do trust her, I do. Even after everything she has done, deep in the back of my mind I have to believe she will care for me. If I don't believe that I will be lost.

She...something is crushing my chest, and now light, blessed light, she has pulled away the covering over my eyes. I look in fear up at her body, she too is encased, in shiny black latex, but she is free and she grins down at me. I try to tell her, no that's not right, I try to plead with her, beg her to be merciful, I promise I'll be good, a good slave. But she leers at me and pulls aside the latex at her crotch; her fingers part the wet folds of flesh and delve inside.

I am disgusted but mesmerized and I watch as she pleasures herself, her hand no more than a foot from my face. I find I am straining to raise my head to allow myself a better view, why? Why do I want to see her like this?

I wonder if she will use me the way she did before. But if that is so why has she kept me gagged? Her fingers are on her clit and she sways, I manage to look away and see that her eyes are almost closed, she looks to be in ecstasy and I'm jealous of the pleasure she is experiencing. My mind flashes back to how she fucked me, that's the only way I can describe it; it wasn't about desire or lust, it wasn't even about sex, it was about control and humiliation. And I was humiliated, the pain from being whipped combined with her pounding into me caused, no, forced me to cum, cum shamelessly, cum in a way I have never dreamed of. As I orgasmed and her hands wrapped around my throat I thought I would die, but die such a beautiful death.

Now I watch enthralled as her fingers caress herself so slowly. Her pussy is wet and glistening, a teardrop of her juice is sliding down the glossy rubber on the inside of her thigh. Her fingers; so slim with perfectly manicured nails, red and wet, stroking and teasing. She pinches her clit gently and she shudders. My neck is aching as I strain my head up in an attempt to be closer to her.

I realize I am sucking the gag as though it is a cock, her cock, and I am disgusted with myself but I don't stop, I suck as I stare at her fingers, wishing perversely that they were inside me. And I wonder what in hell she has done to me? What sort of twisted animal has she turned me into? But as her hips writhe and her pussy moves closer to my face the thought evaporates.

"You've had your fun my darling slut, now it's my turn," she is breathless and her voice shakes slightly, she is still sitting on my chest as she places something over my gagged mouth, I can feel her fastening it in place and when she removes her hands I can see an enormous cock seemingly growing out of my face. With her knees either side of my head she raises her hips and positions herself over the dildo and using both hands she spreads her wet labia and slowly, oh so slowly sinks down swallowing the long shaft into herself. Smoothly her bottom begins to rise and fall as she fucks my face.

I watch her stretched pussy engulf the black shaft, I can see everything in vivid detail; the changing layers of flesh as she slides up and down, small rivulets of liquid running down toward my mouth only to be reclaimed by her pussy as she lowers herself once again. Her scent is strong in my nostrils as I suck in air and I imagine I can taste her.

"Mmmmm, oh yes Darby that's it, fuck me, fuck your Mistress," I can just hear her words and I suddenly realize it is no longer she who is moving but me. She is up on her knees and I'm straining my neck to thrust the dildo up into her. The groans from my efforts echo inside my head as I try to push deep into her, and my neck and shoulders begin to ache and burn but I persevere.

Her hips are gyrating, the dildo sliding so easily into her, the fingers of one hand massaging her clit while the other grips her breast. She pulls aside the latex to expose the soft mound topped with a hard dark nipple and she mauls and kneads her flesh. Her breasts are smaller than my own, with no hint of sag, and I can't stop myself from comparing my larger less firm breasts unfavourably with her perfectly shaped ones.

Her body is squirming above me, her hips humping to meet my weakening thrusts. The dildo is wet and glistening, and I have a mental image of my masked face also covered with her juices. Releasing her breast she grabs the knot of hair she has left exposed at the top of my head and she uses it as a handle to control my movements. I'm ridiculously grateful for her help and I renew my efforts to please her.

Soon her movements become more frantic, less controlled as she approaches her climax, her head hangs forward and she is looking down directly into my eyes, her dark hair like a curtain about her face, her half closed eyes gleam and she bites her bottom lip. She grins and looks almost demonic as she pulls my head hard against her crotch, my scalp hurts but she holds me firm with the cock buried deep within her. Her hips make short quick jerking movements and the knuckles of her fist press against my nose as her fingers move fast over her clit. She writhes and pulls my hair harder and she emits a low gurgling wail as she reaches a climax.

She stops moving with the dildo deep inside her, her body stiffens and she throws her head back. I can see the sinews in her neck standing out and she trembles and strains as though something is being torn from her very being. Time is frozen for long seconds, then exhaling she sags and falls forward. Supporting herself on her outstretched arms she takes deep shuddering breathes; my head is forced back by the ever erect dildo still trapped inside of her. I can see her wetness oozing around the cock and my tongue slides over the leather in my mouth in a vain attempt to taste her.

"Oh God that was so good! I'll have to do it more often," she is laying on her side next to me, the fingers of one hand idly stroking up and down the dildo "I think you're starting to enjoy yourself too, aren't you Darby? We'll have to do something about that, you haven't earned the right yet, not by a long way," Lifting herself up onto her elbow she unclips the toy from my face and also pulls the gag out of my mouth, I fill my lungs with cool air, only now beginning to realize how stifling it is inside my cocoon.

"Clean it my slave slut," she says in a not unfriendly tone, she holds the head of the dildo against my lips and without conscious thought I begin to lick her drying secretions from the rubber penis. Soon it is wet once more, this time with my saliva. She draws the dildo away and I follow It with tongue extended and she giggles, allowing me to lick and then teasingly moving it out of my reach, I know it is a game to her, but a game that I dare not refuse to play.

"Up, up that's it, higher, good doggy," she laughs as I try hard to raise my head high enough to reach, and as though she has changed her mind she allows me to make contact but this time she feeds it into my mouth, deeper and deeper until my head is pressed back against the floor and still she forces it home. I gurgle and gag and she pulls it clear, coughing and heaving I manage not to be sick. The game is repeated and each time the dildo is forced deeper and held longer. I can feel the head entering my throat as though she wants to push it into my stomach. When she finally stops I am crying once again, this seems to please her and she smiles as she leans over me to lick away a tear from my eye.

Using a paper towel she gently wipes away the drool from around my mouth but leaves her finger touching my lip, as she presses slightly I open and caress it with my tongue. Her finger is replaced by her mouth and she kisses me, kisses me so passionately my head whirls and I suck on her tongue hoping the kiss never stops. She has me so confused; Pain, pleasure, humiliation, tenderness? I don't know what is coming next, what her ever changing moods will bring me.

The game is resumed and the dildo is once more touching the wall of my throat, I try to fight it but she holds firm "Don't panic, breathe through your nose, that's it, almost there, soon you'll take it all, and more besides," she talks calmly, instructing me. She places her hands on my chest to help her stand, but pauses and squeezes my boob; she runs her hand over and around as though she has just discoverer my breasts "we've neglected these a little haven't we?" And leaving me immobile with my lips stretched around the dildo she moves to the table.

I watch her; I watch her bum, so tightly encased in rubber swaying as she walks, is she doing it deliberately knowing I'm looking? I don't know whether to hate her or want her. She searches among the items there and without thinking I suck on the dildo and wonder what she has in store for me next, I can feel my nipples grow hard and I'm not sure whether it's through fear or anticipation.

Such a sweet feeling pervades me. I am suffused with light. I feel capricious and whimsical. I look back at her, bound and suffering and my heart skips a beat. A smile twitches my lips and I wink at her as I turn to go and wash. I stretch languidly before her and blow her a kiss as a tear forms in the corner of one eye and swells, blooms and bursts along her cheek, a silver runnel traces the tight straps and once again the petal of her ear.

The shower is hot and I wash languidly, my fingers slipping between my thighs and easing open my sex. I purr to myself as I consider things; my revenge is well underway. She has paid her debt already but the months of anguish are harder to erase than that. I want more from her and as I wash I consider this; is she enjoying this enough that I could free her and just keep her here? Would she stay voluntarily? A connection has been made, albeit an entirely unintended one.

Then suddenly I feel cold and shiver as I realize what I have done, and the potential consequences of my actions settle on me. My fury, seething and constant has blinded me to all else. And suddenly my world dissolves. I tear over as the water cascades down my numb body. I turn off the shower and dress in a silk robe, belting it tight around my waist I pad barefoot down the stairs and into the kitchen.

I sit there at the table trying not to think about her alone in the basement. I try not to replay her expression as I slid from the dildo and stepped back from her shaking, trussed body.

The coffeemaker chugs away as I sit at the table and gaze unseeing into the back garden, and my mind turns over the options I now have.

Should I turn her loose? Maybe tie her and hood her and return her to her home? Then just drive away hoping there will be no comeback, and that I have covered my tracks well enough? Or should I untie her and beg her to forgive me? I know now that I have done her a great wrong. How could I have acted like this? The sore inside me, the one that has poisoned me and changed me, has been lanced now and I am free of the past. I can move on, but to where?

I sit there as the coffee goes cold in front of me. At last I make a decision.

I make my way down into the basement, a dread seizing me, squeezing at my heart. She's there just as I left her of course. The straps are tight and secure and the dildo bobs as she tries to raise her head to see me. I sit beside her and stroke her naked, exposed breasts absently. The same breasts that I tormented with pegs and crop just a couple of hours ago. I think that this softer me has her confused. She makes a muffled noise, a question evident, but I choose to ignore it.

"We need to talk Darby," The words come out without me consciously saying them. and she strains to look at me, her eyes seeking mine.

"You don't even remember me, do you?" Her mind is clearly racing and she offers a soft, querying noise.

"Perhaps it's just as well...." My fingers begin to feel the straps around her body and before I know it I am untying her.

"I have done you a great wrong Darby," She eases her jaw as the gag slides from her lips, a sliver a silver connecting it briefly then gone.

"The desire I feel for is real though and I know you can feel something too."

The silence seems endless as I wait for her response. I feel myself aching to keep speaking, to explain, to justify, seeking forgiveness, but I prevent myself. I will wait to hear what she says.

"W...Why? Who are you?" I finally find the courage to speak, to ask the questions that have been in the forefront of my mind. But I lay still, as still as I can; so as not to give her a reason to punish me, I'm unsure whether or not this is just another cruel game she is playing with me. Yes I'm able to move, I'm free of the bondage that she has kept me in, but mentally I'm still wrapped in chains. I may have the use of my arms and legs, I know I'm bigger and probably stronger than her but she is ultimately superior. If she decides to do something to me I know deep inside that I'll accept it. I'm scared of her, and of what she might do if I resist, but then I wonder if maybe I just won't want to resist. And that's the thing that frightens me most.

She doesn't answer me, staying silent, making me nervous. Instead she smiles sadly down at me and her eyes glisten, I think she is going to cry? Then I become aware of her hand on my breast, gently massaging, I bite my lip as her thumb circles my nipple. Despite my situation I inhale, pushing my chest out into her caress.

"I'm sorry, whatever I've done I'm sorry," my voice trembles, I want to sound sincere, I am sincere. But I don't know that she believes me? She must believe me. My mouth is dry and I can feel her fingers gripping my nipple, and I hold my breath waiting for the pinch and the pain. At first it doesn't come and I'm screaming inside, willing her to squeeze and twist, and then slowly she tightens her grip and the hurt seeps into my flesh and my mind. My eyes close and I hold my breath and I realize I'm speaking, as she pinches harder I whisper barely audibly "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"I was wrong Darby, wrong to blame you. You were only doing your job. I thought I could make it right, can you forgive me?" she slackens her grip on my nipple, absently rolling the tender flesh between thumb and forefinger.

Could I forgive her? Should I forgive her? Do I want to forgive her? I hold my tongue fearing a trap. Her fingers leave my nipple and move down my body, from my breast and over my stomach, she is touching me so lightly but still I can feel her sharp nails, I can feel them scraping like a razor running over my flesh. I lay with my arms submissively at my side unable to move; I gasp and suck my belly in as her hand passes over my navel. She halts her fingers just above my pubis and I want to scream, I want to beg, to threaten, to plead with her to continue, but I can't. I am helpless to resist but my pride is still strong and won't allow me to beg.

"You can go Darby, you're free," suddenly she sits back on her heels and we look at each other, she seems so sad and I have the crazy thought that somehow I have disappointed her, that I'm not good enough for her. She looks away and after a minute I struggle to sit up, it's difficult, I'm stiff and tired but I manage, and expecting her to stop me at any moment I crawl on hands and knees to the stairs where I can use the door to pull myself to my feet.

"What will you do?" she asks. Holding on to the doorframe for support I turn to face her "will you report me? Go to the police?"

I turn away without answering, in truth I don't know what I'll do, but as I climb the steps up into the kitchen I can feel tears in my eyes. I hear a sob, I don't know if it came from her or me and I feel perversely guilty about leaving her. Stumbling through the kitchen I grab a coat to cover my nakedness and stagger outside, my car sits there and with relief I see the keys in the ignition. As I collapse into the driver's seat I also notice my bag on the floor.

I have no idea where I am so I drive aimlessly until I see something that I recognise. My eyes are blurry with tears - tears of what? Relief, sadness, regret, I really don't know - but I make my way home and soon I am laying in a hot bath with a large whiskey in my hand. I have been kidnapped, raped, yes raped, abused and tortured, I know I should phone the police but I'm so tired and I wonder if they will believe me? Will anyone believe me? I still don't know who she is and I doubt I can remember where her house is. I can feel my eyelids drooping and the water is growing cold so I climb wearily from the bath and wrap myself in a thick dressing gown. In my bedroom I dry myself and I pause when my hand touches my pussy, my bald pussy. A vision enters my mind; a vision of me with my legs spread wide and her shaving me, her beautiful face a mask of concentration as she watches the razor. I realize that my fingers are slowly stroking between my labia as I remember her touch and I pull my hand away as if it is stung. Climbing into bed I try to drag my mind away from her but I can't and I'm still thinking of her as sleep claims me.

"Darby? Darby? Can you hear me Darby?" The voice comes from a long way away and I gradually become aware; I have been asleep and now somebody is calling me. I open my eyes and it takes a few seconds for me to register what I am seeing; it is her and she is smiling down at me, her hair and face made up immaculately as though she is going on an important date, she's wearing the same figure hugging black dress that she wore the first time.

"W...what do you want? Please leave me alone" I manage to say before she clamps a hand over my mouth.

"Shush, don't speak; you know you need permission," she hikes her dress up revealing her smooth mound, I can't help but stare; the lips are swollen and they glisten with the wetness of her arousal. She swings her leg over me to kneel astride my belly and smiles when she sees me staring at her crotch "you want it don't you? You want to kiss it, to taste it, don't you? It's okay, you can taste me soon, and in fact you'll be spending a lot of time doing just that from now on."

She grins and I whimper as her hand slips under the elastic of my pyjamas, my thighs part slightly as the tip of her finger pushes slowly into my damp pussy. I groan with embarrassment because she'll know how aroused I am. I want to stop her but I can't move, I want to beg her to stop but I can't speak. I'm not tied but the imaginary ropes that secure me are as strong as any real ones.

"I changed my mind Darby, I've decided to keep you," her fingers stroke me and I shake my head no but her grin broadens "Oh yes my sweet, you'll be my slave forever now, my plaything, my toy. You can join all my other toys, I have so many and they are all for you," she raises her arms for me to see; her hands are filled with toys; clamps, plugs, vibrators, dildos, whips and chains and so much more, I can see two nipple clamps that are mouths, her mouth, with her perfect teeth and huge bells attached. I look on in horror and dread as she starts to giggle.

I try to tell her no, I don't want to be a toy, I'm a person, please, please don't do this to me. But her giggling turns to laughter and the hand sealing my lips has become a gag, filling my mouth, silencing me. A huge dildo slowly rises from the gag before my eyes, ready for her to use for her pleasure. I have become a toy for her amusement and I scream silently.

Her fingers work their way deep inside me and my hips push upward seeking, wanting more as my body betrays me. I shudder when she grips my nipple, squeezing hard and pulling so that I arch off the bed. I'm moaning, pleading through the gag trying to make her understand; if only she would remove the gag so I could feel her lips on mine, so I could taste her, taste her mouth and taste her sex. But she is laughing at me, she is shaking with laughter, crying with laughter, her mascara running down her face creating the mask of a mad woman. And as she shakes the toys rattle together and the bells chime forming a discordant music, becoming a familiar tune, growing louder, and louder until my eyes snap open.

My alarm clock wakes me, the digital display illuminating the empty room. As I become aware I realize I have one hand down my shorts, my fingers halfway inside my very wet pussy, my other hand is gripping my nipple. I lay stunned for long seconds then slam the button to stop the music, I roll onto my side and curl up into a ball and cry quietly.

As I sit at the kitchen table sipping hot tea I wonder what I should do, but I don't know. I don't even know what day it is? But I guess it must be a work day. There is no way I can concentrate on business so I phone to arrange a few days off. I try to put out of my mind what has happened but it's something I will never forget. I feel I should do something, something to make her pay, something to help make me feel better, but what? I can't tell the police, or anybody else, I couldn't bare the shame of people knowing. I decide things will somehow improve if I know who she is and why she did what she did. I remember something she said about me just doing my job; I realize that could be a clue so I decide that will be where I start.

It was surprisingly easy and I was correct in my assumption; I now know everything I need to know about the young woman who turned my life inside out, and I do indeed feel so much better. I got lucky straight away. I started by tracing the people who I had to recommend for redundancy; three stood out, people who hadn't been with the company long enough to receive a substantial pay off and were on record as being less than happy about having to go, and when I pulled their files there she was. And looking at her face again as she stared out from my computer screen made me feel like I was standing on the edge of a cliff. I studied her profile and spent a week researching her, It amazed me just how much information one can gather about another person; I now know almost everything about her, from where she goes on holiday to what type of food she prefers, and armed with this knowledge I made a decision. And it all brought me to here and now.

I'm sitting in my car, fifty yards from her house and watching as she tidies a flower bed in her front garden, because of the warm weather she is wearing just a tee shirt and shorts, even dressed like this she looks good and I imagine her slowly peeling the shirt from her body damp with sweat. I mentally scold myself; although I have come to terms with what happened and the way I felt and reacted I remind myself that's not the reason I am here. I continue to watch her for almost an hour until she goes back into her house and taking a deep breath I clutch my bag and climb from the car.

The walk to her door seems endless and I rehearse what I plan to say, I'm nervous and I clench my fists in an effort to stop my hands shaking. I will tell her how wrong she is; explain to her why I did what I had to. There would be no comebacks, no recriminations, what she did would be forgotten, eventually, hopefully, and we can both get on with our lives. I will apologise for what I had to do to her and hope she feels the same about what she did to me. If she can't accept this I'll have no option but to go to the police. It's a scare tactic, but I want her to know that she did wrong and that I am a lot stronger than she might think.

Ringing the doorbell is a major task for me and I almost turn and run. She opens the door and smiles up at me before realisation sinks in. I take a breath and pull my shoulders back, I open my mouth but no words come. She looks hot and dusty, her white tee shirt is dirty and I can see that she is braless, her small nipples standing out through the material. I struggle to remember what I had planned to say as I picture her perfect breasts, it takes all my strength not to reach out and touch them. I lick my dry lips with a dry tongue. She has her hair tied up but a few strands hang loose over her face and I fight the urge to brush them away. A small bead of moisture hangs on her cheek and as I stare at it I am defeated, I want to kiss it away, I want her to take me, to hold me and never let me go. She tilts her head and everything I had planned, the very reason I am here is forgotten.

I hang my head in defeat and submission, I am contrite now and I at last admit what I truly want "I'm sorry Mistress. Please, please will you have me back," I wait for what seems a lifetime, neither of us speaking. I can't look at her and still she is silent.

Eventually, when no answer is forthcoming I turn and slowly walk away, in my mind I am screaming, begging her to say something to stop me, to call me back, and I wonder if I can exist without her. I walk through the gate and hesitate, did she speak? Or was it in my mind? Did she say my name, did she?

My heart is racing fit to burst. I can only stare dumbly at her. She is a vision of grace, of redemption. She is mine and all I have to do is reach out and take her hand. My tongue feels rooted to the roof of my mouth. I cannot speak. I am spellbound. She turns and begins to walk away. I can sense her tears, trickling down her cheeks. She reaches the gate before I find my voice from somewhere.

"Darby," I croak. She turns, hope lighting in her eyes. Such a beautiful creature.

I extend my hand, grubby with soil from the garden. The sleepless nights are behind me now and the futures lays in front of me, clean and clear and open. And she is in it. I will not make the mistake of treating her too gently. She needs the cruelty, the dominance from before and this gives me the permission I need to allow the closed and locked gate on my sexuality to swing open once more.

"Get inside," I tell her, my voice strengthening.

A blissful smile radiates across her face and she walks as if in a trance towards me and past me into the hallway, the frisson of her body as it passes mine makes me instantly wet. We stop in the kitchen and she turns to face me. I take her chin in my thumb and forefinger, tilting her head so she looks me straight in the eyes. I need to see the resolve, the strength.

"I won't be easy on you," I tell her bluntly. She smiles and nods.

"I didn't think you would Mistress," her voice sends thrills through me.

I press down on her shoulders and she sinks obediently to the floor onto her knees. I feel so aroused I can barely control myself. I unbutton my shorts and let them drop to the floor. My panty covered pussy is inches from her face. I can feel the voltage between us cranking higher and higher.

"You may kiss me," I tell her and she presses her face against my pubis, her sweet pink lips finding my pussy and pressing urgent, pleading kisses there. I slide my hand down my panties and begin to stroke myself. My pussy is slippery with arousal and I lean back against the table to steady myself as she hooks her thumbs into the waistband of my knickers, sliding the silky material down my thighs her tongue comes out to seek my clit. I gasp and writhe, alight with pleasure and anticipation. My hands entwine in her long red hair and I twist them until I can feel her wince and falter.

"Upstairs, Darby."

She rises carefully, my hands still controlling her until I release her. Taking her hand sweetly I lead her up the stairs. When we reach the top I indicate my bedroom with a nod of my head. We kiss and our hands are everywhere, searching, reacquainting ourselves with each other. I feel so happy and complete and I know that she does too. The past days have been a blur of worry. Would the police arrive on my doorstep at any time? Would I ever see her again? But now, my mind stills and allows my body to take over. I have not climaxed since I rode her face that day and now I am bursting for it, my body aching with desire and longing.

We tumble onto the bed, undressing each other until we are naked and her pale, freckled skin is open to me, her sweet pussy lips pouting enticingly at me. I can barely think, the need is so strong to consume her, to own every single, freely proffered inch of her.

The first time is mutual, an orgy of desire sated freely on one another? We writhe, entwined like two serpents, a mass of probing fingers, kissing lips, licking tongues and biting teeth. As we lie there in sated completion, fingers loosely holding those of the other, I look into her eyes and see the need there. The reason she came back to me. The reason she came home.

I reach over to the nightstand without breaking her gaze and bring out the ball gag and the collar.

"Welcome home, Darby," I whisper "we're in for a long night," she kisses the ball as I press it to her pink lips.

"Thank you Mistress, I so missed you..."

A tear forms in the corner of her eye and shimmers before trickling down her pale cheek. I force the gag home behind her teeth and pushing her head forward I buckle it tight at the back of her neck, those tiny red hairs arousing me uncontrollably.

I kiss her gag, her stretched lips with passion and meaning.

What a beautiful way to begin our new life together.........