Chapter 1

I wonder sometimes about people. Why is it that some seem to choose a life not quite solitary but not full of life either? I think of one of these folks, a young women, often.

R, I’ll call her, is in her early thirties. Not exactly beautiful. A nose a bit out of place for her face, perhaps an extra ten pounds or so on her frame, I think of her as ripe rather than overweight, curves in good places.

She’s very well educated, wonderfully conversational, interesting, and I’m pretty sure totally inexperienced sexually, at least with men. I say this not knowing if she’s gay, but having known her since she was a young woman, I’ve never known her to have a relationship more than just friendly with a man, and never picked up any messages that she’s gay.

R always dresses conservatively, but just on the verge. Her breasts are a bit large, almost pillowy but not quite. She never wears low-cut tops, but those that barely hint at what might be. You know what I mean – a quick movement and they shake a bit at the top. Sometimes, though rarely, there’s the shadow of a nipple. Never pronounced, but enough to make me wonder what color they are, how large they are, whether they’re sensitive or not. She doesn’t wear tight skirts or pants, but not loose either. Very nice buttocks and thighs – there would be a beautiful thigh-gap if she lost those ten pounds. And I wonder if she’s ever had an orgasm.

Speculation – fantasy if you like – is one matter, reality is another. Fun but unsatisfying at best. One of my dreams was if I could one day test my idea that there is passion beneath her surface? What began as musings grew into my fantasy to test my theory. R is an only child, close to her parents but always seeming to chafe under the control they wanted over her life. “Why don’t you date?” “You should have a better job!” But she never really rebelled, just lived a life that she wanted to. Oh. Did I mention that her parents are neighbors of mine?

I knew it would never happen but I had so much fun thinking about it, planning, considering various scenarios. I didn’t know how I would do it – capture her to test my theory about her, but I knew that if I could ever ensnare her she could never know it was me. So to begin with I purchased a supple leather hood which covered eyes and ears completely. There were built-in speakers at each ear. Since hers would be a short captivity I wasn’t concerned about a locked room or a cell. Since I lived alone in a large enough home I would simply set up a very comfortable massage table on which R could be restrained. Soft leather wrist and ankle cuffs would enable me to hold her securely yet give me the flexibility to move her easily. A wide leather belt would be around her waist. Metal rings on the belt would enable me to secure her arms. A short, fine chain between her ankle cuffs would prevent any kicking or quick movement. A few toys also would make my test more interesting. Nipple clamps, a couple of vibrators and an assortment of fine massage oils completed my tool kit.

All of this had been fun up to a point. But jerking off to a fantasy eventually gets boring. I wasn’t ever planning to do anything. Until one Saturday evening. I walk my dog every night. He’s a small – about twenty-five pound – a cute as hell mutt. R’s parents were out of town so I was keeping an eye on their house. There was a car in their driveway. It was R’s. There she was, passed out & smelling like margueritas, behind the steering wheel. Shock soon gave way to a plan - and a quickly swelling cock. I opened the passenger door and moved her over. I drove her car a few doors down to my house and drove her car into my garage. She was breathing regularly but I felt I had to move quickly. Carrying her into the house was no small chore – she wasn’t petite!

After setting up the massage table I first placed the cuffs on her wrists & put the wide belt around her waist. I secured her wrists to the rings on either side of the belt and her ankles to the table, and secured the hood. Since only her eyes and ears were covered I wasn’t concerned with her breathing. A sharp knife made quick work of cutting away her clothing. It was tormenting to not stop to touch, but I had to secure her to the table quickly since she was beginning to stir. I sat and waited stroking my cock through my pants. She stirred more now and suddenly tried to sit up but was stopped by her restraints. She began to scream. I don’t think she noticed yet that she was naked. I turned on the microphone and was wearing that altered my voice and fed directly in to the speakers in her hood. I spoke quietly. I asked her repeatedly if she was comfortable, yet she understandably kept screaming. I finally got up and placed my hand over her mouth to quiet her. I explained that if she kept screaming I would have to gag her and explained how uncomfortable this could be. I had a ball gag with a strap available – one that had a large hole through the gag for her to breath, but also for her to be able to suck. She quieted.

“Are you warm enough?”

“Yes. What have you done? Why am I here? Please let me go! Please don’t hurt me!”

I explained to R that her kidnapping was purely opportunistic, that I had no intention of hurting her and that I only had the intention of, if I could, bringing her intense pleasure and enjoying her body for myself in the process. I told her that she would be released in forty eight hours or less, unhurt. I assured her (I know she did not believe me) that I would not cause her any physical pain except in the name of pleasure, and hopefully any emotional pain would be outweighed by the pleasure I was hoping to give her.

I’ve read enough on-line porn to know how captured women amazingly turned into orgasm machines writhing in pleasure within minutes of being stimulated. I knew this was bure bull. So I planned to work very slowly. R was quietly sobbing, so very frightened. I was surprised that I found this a slight turn-on. I told her I was going to touch her. I reached for some massage oil, not warmed intentionally. I wanted the slight coolness to be a jolt to her.

I began with her hands. After working each of her fingers individually and then her hand, I told her I would release one of her arms if she promised to behave. Telling her that I would punish her quieted her. I released her arm and started massaging it first using long strokes then a bit harder, deep massage through her tenseness. After about 10 minutes I refastened her left arm and worked on her right. She was quiet, crying. I fastened her arm to the table and moved to the end of the table close to her feet. Immediately she went from calm to hysterical, screaming and sobbing. I let her go on. After a time she seemed to calm, sobbing quietly.

Her legs were secured to the table just below her knees so I had easy access to her feet and calves. This time I warmed the massage oils a bit and began working on her feet, using pressure points I knew from having my own massages. She began talking, so softly I couldn’t make it out. A tiny bit louder and I heard:

“You’re going to rape me.”

Over and over. I stopped, stood up and put my hands on her face – one gently on either side. I came close and said that I was not going to do any such thing. I was just going to give her pleasure she may never have had before. She again became subdued.

I continued my massage on the other leg and she seemed to fall asleep. I whispered to her that I would like to loosen one of her legs, and reminded her that she would be punished if she tried to kick me. As soon as her leg was loose she, as expected, lashed out with it. I was well out of range. She immediately began screaming, knowing a punishment was coming. I didn’t say anything. The room was slightly cool. She was naked, spread open.

So vulnerable. She had amazing nipples. The areola were just poker chip sized, but the nipple itself in its half engorged state were at least ½ inch long. I didn’t touch her, but picked up an ordinary alligator clip – the kind many of us use as a roach clip. Without warning I opened it and carefully clamped it on to her left nipple. Response was immediate, even though I’m sure it wasn’t too painful.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry” the crooning went on and on.

She sobbed. Not totally because of the discomfort, but because the helplessness had finally dawned on her. She was out of control, utterly without hope. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t the pain. I had tried it on my own nipple. It was a surprise at first – the initial pinch was a shock – but then it was more annoying than anything. But she had never, I thought, even pinched a nipple. Everything, every part of her body, was unexplored even by herself.

After she settled into gentle, quiet crying I shocked her again by placing the other slightly tighter clip on her right nipple. Shock again. More discomfort, even a bit of pain. I let her lie there in silence for about 20 minutes. I took the clip off of the left nipple. It stood up beautifully, red, swollen, ripe. I’ve read about the pain in nipples after being clamped. I always thought it was exaggerated. Apparently not. It’s not so much the intense pain, I think, as the irresistible need to rub the breast, an itch, though that she couldn’t scratch. After ten minutes the other clip came off. Same frustrated reaction.

But she calmed and began talking. Asking questions. Wondering out loud, again, when she was going to be raped. I told her that I could have raped her several times over during the past few hours but hadn’t. I pointed out that I had not touched her sexually at all. My flesh had not touched her nipples. I told her that whether she believed it or not, I only want to bring her pleasure.

“Don’t worry”, I said, “about emotions. This is about your physicality, your body’s reaction to the stimulation I’m giving you. You may not realize it, but you’re already reacting as I thought. You hate the word, but your pussy betrays the beginnings of your arousal. No need for guilt, it’s not your fault.”

She whispered something else, barely audible.

“I have to pee.” I had considered this, how she would react to this humiliation.

“I’ll help you.”

I got a bedpan – the Plexiglas type that I could actually fit over her pussy, with little chance of any spills.

“Relax.” She raised her voice. “No, I can’t”.

I placed my hand as gently as I could on her tummy – just below her navel - and began to gently massage her, just with four fingers, pressing into this ripe flesh. Did I mention that she was quite hairy? But where I was feeling, the fuzz was tantalizingly fine, just enough to give a sensual texture to my fingers. She writhed, again crying loudly but with no words. I continued silently and watched her pussy through the clear container. First a drip, then a stream, then a torrent I could feel and hear. She reacted in a surprising way, almost as she had just experienced an orgasm. You know that feeling. You had to pee so badly that when you finally do the relief is palpable, your eyes roll a bit, you enjoy the intense feeling. “Thank you.” She whispered.

“Are you thirsty. Hungry?”

She nodded. I placed a bottle of cold water to her lips.

“Are you hungry?”

“No”.

“Are you still worried about being so exposed to me?”

“Yes.”

“Are you at all aroused?”

“No!” she almost shouted.

“Then why are your pussy lips starting to swell?”

I moved close enough to her cunt that she could feel my breath on it.

“I can smell you. Your scent is exciting.”

She sobbed. I went to her free leg again and without words again started to massage her. She jerked when I touched her – her calf and the back of her knee. As I gently held her leg I reached for some massage oil I had in a warmer. I knew she was cold. Her nipples looked painfully gorged. She had goosebumps over her body. I dripped the warm oil over her knee and calf. Rubbing so softly I watched her face. Her eyes were closed. After only a couple of minutes I could see a change in her. Not happy, by any means. But her brow had eased and she actually looked relaxed. About 10 minutes later I gently put her leg down, refastened her restraint and began on the other leg. She didn’t move. I began talking.

“I don’t think you’re asleep. You seem more relaxed. That’s good. In the coming hours I hope you experience pleasure. It gives me joy to see you spread and vulnerable, your pussy flowering, your juices flowing. You’re going to find this enjoyable, physically. I’m not interested in capturing your mind. Just exploring your erotic, even carnal side. So let yourself go. Put aside your humiliation. Enjoy yourself.

I began with the warm lavender scented oil again, this time beginning above her knee, working the oil into her muscles, coming close to but never touching the junction, working to relax and sooth. Ten or so minutes on her left side, then her right. As I moved closer to her pussy she moved her hips. It was almost imperceptible, but she raised them. I told her I was going to let her turn over. This would involve giving her enough slack to turn over, but allowing me control. She turned over without argument. I uncrossed her restraints one at a time and left some slack. She could move her arms and legs some, but not enough to strike out at me.

“You have a beautiful rear. That spot where your thigh meets your butt – that crease – is almost irresistible. I’ll be kissing that later.”

She clenched her cheeks and pushed her hips into the table. I don’t think she even knew she did it.

“I saw what you just did, squeezing your ass muscles and trying for more contact to the table. Good.”

This time I started on her shoulders, giving my version of a deep massage. I soon moved to where every stroke was caressing the sides of her breasts.

I moved down. Her butt cheeks. I poured the oil into her crack and began touching her as intimately as I yet had done. In the junction of labia and leg, then into her crack, spreading her open so her rosebud was feeling the cool air. She clenched. “NO!” she growled.

“Why?”

“Please ... NO! Not there!”

I massaged her ass, each time moving a finger across her rosebud, reveling in her ripeness & discomfort. I could clearly smell her aroma. She was aroused. I hadn’t touched her pussy. My next pass over her hole I paused, pushed so carefully, my finger opening her just a bit.

“MMMMUH”. “NOOOOO”.

“Why?”

I just left my finger where it was, barely in her, my other hand deeply massaging her glistening ass. Her hips were moving – just a bit, but moving nevertheless.

“Please. Take your finger out!”

“Why?”

“It’s dirty. Shouldn’t be there. The way you’re making me feel is evil. I can’t stand it.”

“Why?”

“I feel...”

“Horny? The overwhelming need to come? Ready to explode but I won’t let you?”

She started to cry again. Her hips pumped, looking for contact then stopped. She screamed.

“PLEASE!”

I pulled my finger out of her ass and spanked her ass. Hard. Again. Hard. And she came. She convulsed and screamed. I let her lay briefly. She was alternately gasping and moaning, twitching her hips. I had an erection so powerful that I couldn’t touch it for fear I’d spurt immediately. I stripped my clothes off then continued a two handed massage of her ass. As she quieted I began talking to her.

“Thank you so much for showing me how powerfully you can cum. Have you ever had an orgasm like that? Did you enjoy it? Did you enjoy it despite being, as you say, raped? You came without me touching your clit. Can you imagine what your next one will be like? Or when I’m eating your pussy?”

She jerked – hard - and pressed her hips into the table. She began whispering.

“I’m losing my mind. You’re raping me in the worst possible way. You’re forcing my body to betray everything I stand for. Your raping my mind, my inner core. My head says that my life is over. My body craves another orgasm like that. It was as though I’d die if I didn’t get it and I’d die when I did. Please let me go. Please make it happen again. Please don’t tease. Please tease me.”

“Do you feel this?”

I pushed my cock against her hip. She tried to jerk away.

“I can’t stand the teasing either. I’m going to jerk off and cum on your face. I’ll be the first man to do that to you. That excites me even more. You’ll feel it, smell it, maybe even taste it. That will be up to you.”

I moved up to her head and began stroking, trying to control the urge to cum. She shook her head from side to side trying to avoid the inevitable.

She pleaded. I wanted to feel her lips on my cock. I was surprised that I didn’t have to force her head around to face my cock. Gentle pressure did that. It was a delicious feeling, her pursing her lips so tightly trying to keep it out of her mouth. When my first spurt shot out I grabbed her hair so she couldn’t move away from it. Five overwhelming spurts covered her lips, then chin to forehead. I slumped. I let her go & she immediately turned her head away. I had coated her face, and especially her lips with my cum. She jerked her head up and held it, and her breath, but inevitably gave in to gravity and put her cheek down into a still warm puddle of cum.

“This is wrong.”

“Here. For you.” I swiped my finger across her cheek, then placed the tip on her lips. She tried to keep it out of her mouth, but I wiped her teeth with it. I could tell that she wanted to bite me. I warned her about a punishment. She slowly opened her lips, then her mouth, then began sucking, then began pumping her hips, then gently, almost playfully began nipping at my finger. I slowly pulled it out. She whispered.

“Are you going to punish me? I bit your finger. I’ll do it again.”

“Yes. I’ll punish you again. But first I’m going to clean you. Are you thirsty?”

She nodded yes and took a long drink from the bottle as I held her head up. I began changing her restraints, attaching each wrist cuff to the rings on her belt. The short chain holding her ankles would keep her from kicking or running. I helped her up. She was a bit unsteady having been lying there for a few hours and having had a giant cum recently. I walked her into the master bathroom where I had an oversized shower with several heads including the overhead “rain” shower and a hand-held wand.

“Do you know I’m still naked? Seeing you like this, exposed, your chest flushed, cum on your face, do you have any idea how erotic you are?”

She reddened even more. I thought I noticed her squeezing her thighs together. I had her sit on a shower seat.