author unknown
Illustrations by Ashley
Originally Published in Hogtie Vol. 3, No. 11
Story codes: M/f, BDSM, kidnap, n/c, rope, gag, hogtie, XX
He poured another drink while he surreptitiously fingered the pear-gag ready in his pocket. Had he the nerve to go through with it? It was a golden opportunity. He had met her by chance on the other side of town. No one had seen her with him. Of this he was sure. He wasn't a close friend of hers or anything like that. When they started looking for her, they'd never come here to his place. As he replaced the decanter, he looked at her. He could throw here down on the sofa right now and ram the gag into her. Bounds, she couldn't prevent him. She poked her tongue out at him like a cheeky brat. He wondered if, gagged, she would still be so confident.
She got up and went over to the long mirror. He almost groaned at the hip-rolling girly walk, the firm, rounded, tight little ass, her bound wrists bobbing at her back. She studied her hands, tugging ruefully to free them. She was equally sensuous from the front, her breasts in profile, the dark mat of hair was a stark contrast to the golden tan of her hips. She saw his greedy eyes drinking the smoothness of her nude body, she arched her back slightly and saw his eyes drop to the thrust of her breasts.
"Am I beautiful?" she asked, knowing there could be only one answer to the question.
"I've seen worse."
She came to him, gracefully, even with her ankles hobbled. "Bully-boy," she whispered, tormenting him with her lush body.
He lost himself in the all-enveloping warmth of her wide-opened moist mouth. She was just a high-class amateur tart, very high class, though. He'd asked her in for a drink and that soft mouth had responded immediately to his, kissing her, he'd met with no resistance when he stripped her. Her slender, full-bosomed body was even more beautiful nude, her skin was silk-smooth beneath his hands. He'd tickled her until she retaliated so he had an excuse to overpower her, and force her face-down on the sofa with her hands wrenched back. She'd squealed and wriggled when she felt the rope, but he used his whole strength to hold her while he lashed her wrists crosswise behind her back. They were both quite sure she'd have no chance of freeing herself unaided. He sat back and took full pleasure in her struggles. He panted hard, from the exertion.
When she finally ceased to struggle, she looked up at him, flushed, and said resentfully, "You must have been a wonderful boy scout, you great big bully!"
He stood and pulled her close, "How does it feel to be a captive, wench?"
She raised her head to look at him. "It feels... kinda cute, you thug!" she moaned, pretending indignation as he kissed her.
Holding her firmly by the arm he led her into the den. Bound, she struggled along obediently beside him. Again, he felt the bulk of the pear-gag in his pocket. He looked down at his captive, and his stomach churned as he realized that he was not going to release her now, and her every innocent step made her captivity more certain. He imagined that full, sexy mouth stretched wide around the big gag. Why not force-gag her now? But the anticipation was too enjoyable, and there was plenty of time. Besides she hadn't even asked to be untied yet.
She caught his glance. "Where are we going?"
"I've a surprise for you."
She pressed her hip against his. "Mmmm, I love surprises!"
He chuckled. Perhaps shock would have been a better word. He held her with his hands on her shoulders. Just next door was his "special room" and he'd spent so many happy hours preparing it for just this moment. The door was open, and the darkened room waited to claim her. She lolled against him, bound, yet with no sense of her impending danger. As he stroked the long line of her back, he marveled at her lack of imagination. She just thought she was going to get laid; what a delightful little fool she was!
With her head against his chest she murmured, "I said I'd pop in to see you, we haven't got long."
She really wanted it! She started to turn, to say "let me go now" but he snatched her back and his mouth sealed hers, gagging her with his kiss, so that the last part of her sentence was a soft incoherent mumble into his mouth. Her arched back was smooth and cool beneath his hand. She moved and the rope binding her wrist brushed the back of his hand. His lust was mindless, his huge erection ached. Her body thrust, molding itself to him.
Between kisses she whispered breathlessly, "My, you are a big boy!"
Now was the moment! Now was the time to gag her really tight! He would give her just one final chance for a reprieve. "Now for your surprise, but I want you quite helpless first."
As he spoke, he forced her elbows tightly together until they touched. Now she had to get scared or angry and really raise a fuss. Perhaps he'd let her loose when she did. But, astonishingly, she didn't protest; she merely gasped with pain as the thin cord cut deeply into the flesh of her upper arms.
She whispered, "it's tight!" As the thin stuff bit into her body just below her breasts.
As he corded her body, his hands brushed across the cool, sharp, peaks of her tits, his hands slid down, pinning her thighs so he could bind them cruelly tight. Again, he heard her gasp as her flesh bulged around the cord, but still she would not complain. Quickly he shortened her ankle hobbles to a minimal three inches so she could stand but couldn't kick him. Slowly his hands traveled up her thighs, hips, then her waist, until as he stood, they slid around to cup her breasts and draw her body back, snug in his arms.
"Now you're quite helpless!" he breathed.
Surely, she must hear the deep satisfaction in his voice and start to panic. But now she'd be too late! Now he'd complete his plans for her no matter what! The front door was locked; even if someone rang the bell, he could get her gagged and safely tucked away before he answered it.
She turned her head up and back and he saw that she was as hot and flustered as he was. "Yes," she sighed, as her mouth opened for his kiss. "Yes, now I am quite helpless!"
He realized that even now she had no warning of her terrible danger. The little fool seemed to trust him completely, apparently believing that she was roped up as some kind of kinky foreplay to his lovemaking! It was, he thought bemusedly, all a matter of degree.
His other hand left her breasts and moved caressingly up the long arch of her throat to cup her tilted chin. "In just a moment," he thought. "She will begin her new life as a slave, as my slave!" His fingers and thumb curled upwards around her chin. As her serpent-quick tongue darted into his mouth, he seized it gently between his teeth and held it for a moment so she could not close her mouth. As he did so his finger and thumb pressed down, first gently, then firmly into her cheeks, pressing the flesh inward between her teeth so if she tried to close her mouth, she would only bite herself. She made a startled sound of discomfort. As she pulled away from the kiss, he squeezed down hard with finger and thumb so that her mouth was forced wide.
The pear-gag was ready. It was easy. Afterwards he was astonished at just how easy. She made a painful desperate protest. Her face was small-boned, delicate under his hands as he wrenched her mouth wider. He jammed the rubber ball against her teeth. He rammed it hard and she made a wild sound as her mouth was wedged impossibly wide. Then the gag popped home behind her teeth, slightly easing the pressure on her distended jaws as the soft rubber accommodated itself in its rightful place deep in her mouth. She struggled, but feebly, being well bound, and her struggles inflamed his lust still more so that he used his full strength to hold her. He felt the slippery rubber ball move as she tried to reject it with her tongue and he chuckled at the urgent gurgling sounds she made. He turned her. Her knees went and she fell against him. He dragged her head back with the gag straps and she made desperate female sounds as he drew the straps around her head and buckled them tight, very tight, behind her neck. He gave the strong strap a final tug.
"Now just be quiet," he said, very strictly.
He had her! With a hand on each rounded, rope-wrenched shoulder he held her away so he could look at her. The gag fit her perfectly, her red lips spread wide around the ball, the wider part of the gag was of course safe in her mouth. Her cheeks, flushed a deep rose, bulged over the leather strap. Above the gag her eyes were wide with astonished alarm, her eyebrows furrowed. She shook her head wildly. He dumped her dead weight on the sofa. Somehow, he poured himself a drink and sat down opposite her, wiping the streaming sweat from his face with shaking hands.
Then he lit a cigarette, breathlessly, as he watched her beautiful face contort with violent effort. Her jaws worked to free the gag, her teeth eased, then bit down hard on the glistening scarlet ball. He grinned, knowing that her efforts to rid herself of it would only serve to settle her gag deeper within her mouth.
She leaned forward, eyes pleading, and said imperatively, "UMMFF!"
His grin widened as she tried again, tried to form words, words like, 'Please take it out, it hurts!'.
Her eyes were eloquent above the gag, and they plainly expressed her mute desire. The plaintive female noises were the sexiest sounds he'd ever heard; he was glad he had not forgotten to switch the tape recorder on, just in case. She tried to struggle, her shoulders rocked, her knees surged against the cutting thigh ropes. Then her head dropped forward as she accepted defeat.
She didn't lift her head, didn't make a sound as he knelt before her to rope her ankles. Without question and without resistance she allowed the cord to draw her beautiful ankles together. He bound them tight. It wasn't necessary at all, but it pleased him to emphasize his mastery over her. As he locked the knot, she looked up, not trying to speak, her eyes begging for release. He put his hand on her knee.
"There, little slave, now you are beautiful."
The huge eyes watched him, puzzled but still without a trace of fear. Did she realize that she had totally lost control of the situation?
He could not understand her lack of panic. Was it possible that she did not yet realize that she was no longer a lover but a real prisoner? Or did she suspect something of the sort but refused to believe it could be happening to her? Perhaps even now she thought she'd just get laid and then released. He tilted her head back so he could study her mouth.
"Gagging really suites you, you know that?"
She moaned and shook her head. He stroked the side of her face and felt the deep indentation of the gag strap.
"You don't enjoy being gagged though, do you?" She made a mournful sound of agreement. "You'll get used to it in time," he said, as he went back to his armchair.
She moved in an attempt to ease her discomfort, her breasts jiggled gently. If her tits had been superb before, they were stupendous now. With her elbows trussed together behind her, her shoulders were dragged sharply back. Her breasts were now forced to jut forward in proud unavoidable sexual challenge, the small sharp pointed nipples thrusting in blatant invitation. She frowned and leaned further forward protectively. It didn't help. She leaned forward until her tits were crushed against her knees. He was highly pleased; she was learning, and it showed how her confidence had been eroded. A few minutes ago, she would have brazenly shoved her tits out for his pleasure; now she wanted to conceal them. How charming that such a simple, modest impulse should be denied her now. Now, as she doubled forward, he could see the line of her arms, welded together down her back. No matter what position she adopted, some new vista of her defenseless body was revealed to his hot inspection.
She moaned and looked up at him. He was aware that she felt a deep sense of humiliation at being studied like a helpless side of beef, but she was learning fast! Carefully she edged off the sofa and fell forward onto her knees. Clumsily, she toppled sideways against the arm of the chair with a small sound of alarm. Then, kneeling, she started to move toward him with small surging jumps, an inch or two at a time. Her rate of progress was ludicrous but he did not laugh. He held his breath as he watched her straining breasts dance with each heaving effort.
At last she was close, between his knees. She fell forward against his chest, the twin spear-points of her breasts burned through his shirt. His hands went around her, and slid down to enjoy the cord biting into her arms.
She came into his arms like a small animal, helpless, but trusting. His heart went out to her and he suddenly knew that despite his lust for her he could not really hurt her. He felt a powerful urge to protect and watch over her, yet at the same time to master and tame her to his will.
She dropped her head forward, offering up the buckle of the gag. She pleaded, "Undo it!" The words were indecipherable, but the meaning was perfectly clear.
His hands cupped her lovely vulnerable breasts, and he shaped and molded and stroked them, feeling the nipples define and harden beneath his touch. He relished not just the cool silken softness but also the knowledge that she was quite unable to avoid his caress. She moaned for release from her gag again, shaking her head beseechingly. He grabbed her thick hair and dragged her head back so she had to look up at him.
"No chance, silly wench, I prefer my women nicely gagged. It cuts out all that stupid chatter!"
Slowly he forced her head farther and farther back so her soft curvaceous body was arched sharply over his arm. She cried out but with her head bent back the gag conveniently tightened deeper into her mouth. She made a nice study bent back that way; her impudent breasts pointed aggressively upward were close to his mouth. He drew her breast into his mouth. She struggled madly as he tasted the smooth softness of her erect bosom, pulling slightly. He shifted to the other breast, circling the nipple with his tongue. She was making little sounds that rose in urgency as his teeth teased.
He whispered in her ear, "Time to complete your surprise."
He slackened his hold and let her jerk away. She sat back on her heels and glared at him over her gag; she shook her head and grunted a violent refusal. Now at last she was angry! He untied her ankles, leaving them short-hobbled as before. He said, in a light-hearted way, "But I thought you liked surprises!"
She moaned at him. She didn't want to come but with his arm around her, she had no alternative. She drew back reluctantly, all soft curves and warm woman-flesh. "Come along, step lively now," he said, briskly feeling very smug.
She looked ridiculous, hobbling slowly across the room with her knees tightly bound and her ankles tethered, but again he had no desire to laugh.
On the threshold of his "special room" she saw the heavy bolts on the door, top and bottom, the covered peephole. She must have realized it was the door to a prison cell, her cell, for she strained back against his arm, and dug her heels into the carpet. She shook her head as she moaned in desperate refusal to go further. He almost had to carry her, as she kicked and jerked. Finally, into the room, he slammed the door, which locked automatically.
Wide-eyed she looked about her, saw his toys about the room, the manacles on the wall, scolds' bridle, gags, handcuffs, the bed, wash basin and the loo. She hobbled to the door to find there was no handle on the inside. Her eyes screamed a terrified question at him.
"That's right my poppet," he spoke. "Welcome to your new home!"
She screamed, "don't-be-ridiculous-you-can't-mean-it-let-me-go!" But it came out as simply garbled noises through her gag. For the first time she really fought her bonds like a little spitfire, and got nowhere. When her first surge of strength was spent, she leaned back against the door, horrified, watching him with fearful incomprehension.
There was time now, so he took his jacket off and got to work. She fought him, tooth and nail, as though her life depended on it, (which is no doubt what she believed). Subduing her had been a delightful task, for even in her furious terror she was all female and for a while he was buffeted sensuously by a wild flurry of soft breasts and buttocks. By the time he'd finished they were both panting for breath. But, while he was free to do as he liked, his beautiful companion could hardly move a muscle.
He bound her with her back to one of the sloping timbers which supported the roof, lashing her hands and her feet behind the post so she leaned back against it at a sharp angle. She had to stand on tiptoe to support her weight and with the bulky timber wedged between her thighs her knees were forced conveniently apart. He walked around her, surveying his work with satisfaction, and recalled the way her struggles had gradually become less effective as he worked up her body binding her to the post. Now she could flutter her fingers and shake her head; otherwise, she was quite unable to move. Apart from the fluttering rise and fall of her breasts as she fought for air she was quite still. Her nude body bulged most attractively around the coils of rope drawn taut.
"Just relax, little fool," he whispered gently. "There is nothing you can do."
Her body dropped back at an inviting angle. He leaned forward so that the length of his body rested on the succulent cushion of her breasts and stomach. His hands stroked her arms, following the deep indentation of the ropes, then returned to soothe and excite her breasts. He tried to kiss her, but she turned her head aside angrily. But slowly, he let her hardened muscles begin to relax beneath the ministrations of his hands. His hard cock moved between her thighs, urging her surrender. She sighed. Then, at last, her head turned slowly against the post. Her chin raised, her gagged lips were an inch from his. He spread his mouth around her gag until her stretched wet lips met his. She moaned softly, her head moved, thrusting gently in response.
He whispered, "I could fuck you right now and you couldn't begin to stop me."
Eyes closed, she shook her head slowly, she moaned, "No... no." But her breath gushed in tiny surges from her nose, and he felt her hips begin to thrust spasmodically against the rope which bisected her cunt.
He pushed her unresistant head to one side and held the loose end of the gag strap. "This room is soundproof," he whispered into her ear. "So, there's no need to keep you gagged in here."
She made a soft sound of relief and waited. She no doubt had several things she wanted to say to him. He paused, then worked the gag strap tighter by yet another notch, holding her head as she tried to wrench free. He laughed at her wail of dismay.
"But a few hours with a gag in your mouth will help to teach you that a slave may only speak when she has her Master's permission!"
She snorted at him and glared with hatred. He could see that she still didn't accept that he really was going to keep her captive here.
But when the door was locked behind him and he watched her through the peephole, her attitude had already changed. Wild-eyed she pleaded with him, making shocked "you can't leave me like this" demands, through the gag.
"Be good, my poppet," he said, as he slid the peephole shut.
It was evening by the time Dave got back from town. The big house was absolutely deserted. In the hall he listened. There was no sound in the whole house, and he was quite obviously alone. In the living room he received a mild shock; he had made a mistake after all. Her clothes were still scattered on the sofa. If the cleaning woman had come back for some reason, she would have found the clothes and remembered when they started asking questions. He would have to give her notice and get his key back. But not immediately, that would be too suspicious. She had not found the 'special room' yet and wasn't likely to. Mrs. Mudd always came about ten o'clock, and he could have his guest safely tucked away by then with a nice, fat gag in her mouth, and when he had her out for training he could double-lock the front door.
He picked up her panties, a tiny wisp of crumpled nylon. He examined them. How forlorn they seemed without those beautiful hips to cling to. He held her crisp white bra, remembering the way it had imprisoned those perfect breasts. Strange that even holding her discarded clothes he couldn't really believe that he had her to himself. How long would it take him to accept the fact of her presence here?
It was not good, he had to have a peek at her, even though he'd intended to leave her to her solitude. He gathered up her skirt, blouse and shoes. He moved the bookcase and unlocked the peephole.
Desperate blue eyes screamed at him across the room. She was just as he'd left her, of course; he was pleased to see the gag still sealing her mouth perfectly.
He said cheerily, "Hello, Sweets, feeling nice and comfy?"
She had been crying, and he could see that. Well, she would have to get through that phase too. She started to struggle delightfully, and he saw that her struggles were deliciously feeble. He watched her hands clench and unclench behind the post. She shook her head, making sensuous "girl-noises" of distress.
He didn't linger, knowing that solitude and total helplessness would be her best tutors at first. "I can see that you're busy," he said, apologetically. "So, I'll come back later when you're free! Pleasant dreams my poppet."
He pushed her clothes through the hole. "Do get dressed if you like."
He noted with approval the way her hysterical moans were cut off as he shut the panel. He locked it, then swung the bookcase back until it clicked in place. He reflected that no one would be likely to find the hiding place even if they did search the house, the bookcase looked like a fixture. And providing she was gagged, none would hear a sound from her. He could even hold a party out here. Now that would be an idea! Perhaps she'd find it most entertaining if he had a few of her friends here one evening and left the speaker on in her room, so she could listen to the chatting and socializing whilst she was bound and gagged next door!
Of course, she didn't know, and he'd make sure she wouldn't know, that he could watch her on the closed-circuit TV system from his bedroom. That's why he'd left half her light on. Dave went out to the garden. It was a lovely scarlet sunset. He took a lung full of air. It looked like it would be a pleasant weekend. He laughed out loud, thinking of the delights that lay ahead. It looked like an absolutely perfect weekend! He knew he could tame this one by the way he'd been able to get her horny when she was first trussed to the post and hating him. This time he was sure he wouldn't even have to move away from the district when he'd finished with her.