Note: This takes place just before and then during the events of Housebound, Ch. 02.
Katie had jerked and kicked like anything as her cheerful-looking captor had removed her from the back of the van (
Why me first?
she'd wondered, frantically), but he'd handled her with ease, as if anticipating every move she would make. She'd barely gotten a glimpse of the garage where they'd parked before he carried her, slung over his shoulder, into a hallway and through a waiting metal door.
He swung it shut behind them, with an ominously heavy click, and Katie couldn't help noticing that there was no knob on this side.
The room was dark and windowless within; the only light was a single bright beam, focused downward to illuminate a strange little chair. It consisted of a long, narrow backrest and two knee pads. Kevlar straps dangled from all three pieces, and it seemed to all be supported by a single metal beam attached to the back wall.
Katie knew instinctively that she did not want to be put in that chair--and that it was where she was headed. She redoubled her efforts to get away from him, but before she knew it he had her doubled almost backwards in his arms, one hand gripping her hair and the other squeezing the soaking crotch of her panties.
She'd been locked up in the back of the van all night, and the vibrator he'd put inside her hadn't stopped working its magic yet. His hand was the first pressure she'd had on her pussy at all, and Christ, it felt
good.
Katie didn't realize she'd moaned, an aching, lustful sound, until he'd gotten her arms behind the backrest and locked her wrist bindings into some kind of cuff there.
Fuck!
He swiftly pulled the straps tight around the backs of her knees, and there she was: strapped into this thing despite all her efforts, kneeling a couple feet off the ground.
He looked her over, as she fumed and jerked at the bonds, then seemed satisfied. He reached behind her head and untied the gag; Katie groaned again and worked her jaw.
"Hi, Katie," he said. It chilled her: she'd sort of hoped this was just a random, sloppy job, a grab bag of girls, the kind of thing that would get him caught. But if he knew her name, that was doubtful.
"Fuck you," she spat.
"You know, I've been doing this for years," he said thoughtfully, "and there are only two things a girl ever says when I ungag her: 'fuck you' and 'what do you want?'"
"I know exactly what you want," she said, trembling. She was still wearing her skimpy gray cami top, panties and socks: she had no doubt that was deliberate. She'd taken his clothing for a burglar's grubby black sweater and jeans at first, but now she could see that it was actually nice stuff, Gucci and Hudson. Her status was supposed to be beneath his in every way.
"You almost certainly don't," he said. "Well, okay, you probably have at least this next part figured out." He took the hem of her cami in both hands and tugged upwards until it was over her head, not entirely off, but wadded into a band of fabric over her shoulders and behind her neck and upper back.
"Oh, yeah, this is really unexpected," snapped Katie. She hadn't wanted to play her part, to turn her head away in shame, but there was a hot flush in her cheeks anyway as he ran his hand possessively across her collarbones and down to her small, round breasts. The way her arms were bound behind the chair forced her back to arch, chest forward; it was a position that accentuated even her minor assets.
He smiled and cupped one. "I'm going to leave you alone in a minute, Katie," he said. "I promise. But first I wanted to give you something to think about." His thumb circled her nipple, teasing it into stiffness despite her best efforts to ignore the sensation. Then he withdrew his hand, reached into his back pocket and came out with a small pair of blunt-tipped scissors.
"All I'm going to think about is what's going to happen to you when you fuck up," she said bravely. Snip, went the scissors on one side of her panties; his hand traced a tingling path under her tummy as it moved to the other side. "Do you know what they do to guys like you in prison?"
"Yes, I do," he said. "That's why I never fuck up." Snip.
Her humiliatingly sopping panties dropped into his hand, though not before he rubbed one knuckle against her clit through them, making her catch her breath. She barely contained another groan, then yet another, as he finally pulled the little egg vibrator out of her slippery cunt and unstrapped its battery pack from her leg.
He was grinning with appreciation at the sight of her exposed pussy and its tiny landing strip of fuzz, which she'd carefully trimmed just a day ago. "In fact, I take very specific care of my girls, Katie. That's why you're in here--to get personally measured. I know you're into clothes; I thought you'd like the idea of having everything tailored to fit you."
Katie stared in disbelief, but he didn't bring out a measuring tape; instead, he walked behind her and flicked on a computer monitor. She could barely make out the screen when she craned her head. It was black with white text--she hadn't thought they even made computers like that anymore.
init,
he was typing,
-subject 229 -thorough -record
. Clack went the enter key, and there was a hum, then a quiet, high-pitched whine of machinery. She looked around frantically, wondering what it could mean--which was when he walked back over, grabbed her face roughly in one hand, squeezed her cheeks to make her lips pout, and kissed her hard.
Katie objected, with a muffled squeal of protest. He pulled back and simultaneously gave her a sharp spank on her unprotected, sensitive pussy; Katie gasped in pain, and she found the scrap of fabric that had been her panties stuffed into her mouth.
Her objection this time was barely more articulate, and louder. In a second he'd tied the dangling straps tight behind her head. This new gag wasn't as big or awkward as the previous one--it wasn't really supposed to keep her quiet--but now she was forced to taste her own arousal, cold and wet and faintly sour against her tongue.
She yanked and squirmed desperately in her bonds, but he responded by taking the previously unfastened straps on the backrest and pulling them tight just above and below her breasts. Now she could barely draw a deep breath, let alone move her body. He stepped back.
"Oh, I promised you something to think about, didn't I?" he said as he walked to the door; it clicked open at his touch. "I walked into your dorm, then your room, and took you out bound and gagged before you even woke up. Do you think I could have done that without help? Somebody sold you to me, Katie. Who do you think it was?"
Then the door clicked shut once more, and she was alone with the machine.
Katie renewed her struggle, flushed and panting through the wet gag, her small athletic frame straining hard against the straps. For all her frantic attempts, though, she could barely shift her body to one side--as she discovered, to her dismay, when the whining sound turned out to be a slender silver dildo mounted on an articulated metal arm.
The straps had her positioned perfectly above it, of course, and in a moment it was nudging at her lips. Even if she hadn't been still dripping wet from the endless teasing of the egg, the thing seemed to have been lubricated, and slid inside her without a hitch.
She was almost disappointed at how skinny it was.
Glancing backwards, she could see characters streaming down the monitor, recording some kind of data she couldn't comprehend--though she could guess at its source. The little shaft pumped up and down a few times, slippery and quick, in a way that she found almost disinterested. She had a distinct feeling that this was just a warmup.
The dildo withdrew all the way, then disappeared under her. There was a whirring sound, two clicks, and the arm reappeared, this time tipped with a rubber cock that was much shorter and at least three times as thick. Katie caught her breath, as his comments about getting "fitted" suddenly made a horrible kind of sense.
The new dildo plunged into her well-lubed cunt, and Katie winced as the thickness filled her completely and stretched her taut. Her legs were trying to lever her up off it, hips jerking, but of course she had nowhere to go; and then she almost forgot about going anywhere, as the black rubber toy began to rotate and pulse with vibration.
She'd had a vibrator inside her all night, of course, but this was... different. Katie felt her eyes fluttering a little, the surge of heat in her belly almost robbing her of thought altogether.
No!
She shook her head violently, biting down on the thin cotton, trying to keep focused. She wasn't going to let this bastard's machine get to her. How arrogant was he, to think that his prisoners could be turned into wanton sluts by a rubber cock and a couple of gears?
