I had recently begun a correspondence over email with a man in his late 50's. We had been active on the same internet forum for a weekend. It started when he replied to a post I made the second day that I had an account on the forum. In his reply he introduced himself as Mr. Henderson and said he was available as a form of mentor. He provided an email address to reach him at, if I was interested.
I responded cordially, thanking him, and introduced myself. I told him about my Stepfather; Mr. Henderson was so supportive and kind. He explained to me how it was my fault my Stepfather had left. Then he told me that it was best to not be alone for too long. We then briefly discussed my daughter, and my appearance.
I was so lonely, I needed someone to hug, someone to talk to. I arranged for my daughter to be cared for and asked Mr. Henderson if he wanted to meet in person. I knew that it is undignified for a woman to be so forward but I was in need.
I received in depth instructions on what to bring, where to be and when, and how to contact him. They also included an agreement. I agreed to not talk unless spoken to and obey him; he promised would make me a more desirable woman. I could say stop or quit at any time. I printed the email and drove to the store. I bought: a wool blanket, a metal bowl, baby wipes, a pool mask and a black marker as instructed by the email
I drove from the store to a large airport. I paid for a week of parking, packed the materials in a backpack and walked into the terminal. The building was empty except for a handful of employees. After looking around the massive structure I walked to a small store next to a security checkpoint. A wire thin African man greeted me with a strong accent. I found the prepaid phones and grabbed two boxes feeling the air conditioning blow unrelenting cold air on the back of my neck.
The gaunt cashier's giant hand palmed both boxes and took them. His eyes met mine, his pupils and irises one black abyss. "Has the village not cared for the child enough?. . . No child will go without the village's warmth, the uncared for child will return with flame and burn the village to feel the warmth." He spoke as if reciting an ominous moment of tension in a scary story. Unsure of what he was talking about I dismissively nodded and left with the final two items on the list.
I left the terminal and walked a mile to a motel. The parking lot smelled like urine and there were no cars parked in it. I opened a prepaid phone, activated it and called the number I was provided on the email. The call went to voicemail. I pressed the redial key and was lifting the phone to my head when a silver sedan rolled out from the side of the motel. The car stopped in front of me, the driver said "Lauren" and opened the passenger door on the near side of the car.
"Mr.Henderson?" I asked foolishly. As I sat Mr.Henderson gave me instructions. "Lauren, for me to help you, you need to listen to me, ok?" He paused but not for a response and then continued "Color the swimming mask completely black with the marker then put it on and make sure that it is completely blacked out." I worked in silence hiding my excitement and fear.
I put the blacked out mask on. "I can't see anything." I said. He continued his instructions as he handed me the wool blanket. "Cover yourself with this and take a nap. I will wake you when we get there."
My mind wandered, I looked at the parallel black lines that I had just colored on the mask as sunlight warmed my face. We drove for about an hour before I fell asleep.
The car bumped and wiggled as we drove down the long driveway. I woke up and reached for the mask. "Take it off," he said. It was night and the bright motion activated lights mounted to the exterior of the home made seeing the area outside of their reach impossible. We stopped and exited the car.
I grabbed my bag and watched as he lifted a garage door in front of me. The garage was empty. A 3 inch in diameter metal bar ran the width of the room about half a foot below the ceiling. There was a lone incandescent light bulb on the ceiling lighting the whole room. The brick walls and oil stained concrete floor were only home to an interior door and no windows.
Mr. Henderson turned to me, He handed me his prepaid phone that I dialed at the motel. He activated the second phone I had bought, and had me call it. We walked into the garage as he spoke/
"Call the number ending in a one if you want to stop and or leave. Call the number ending in a seven at 5am everyday." He looked at me. "I am ready, sir." I said.
I placed the bag in the corner of the room, and carried the wool blanket, baby wipes and metal bowl to the center of the room; where the prepaid phone was left on the floor. He secured a large carabiner to first a chain, then a thick steel ring that rested with the metal bar through the center. The chain hung from the carabiner, and the ring ran sliding along the length of the bar as he approached me.
My hands shook as he displayed the end of the chain. A D-ring was fixed near the end, he looped the end around my neck. The cool metal made me flinch as he secured the chain to itself using a padlock. The makeshift collar and leash were long enough for me to lay down, but not long enough to reach the interior door, my bag or the garage door.
He rubbed his hands on his blue jeans. "Anything changed from our agreement on the email?" he asked, now standing with his arms folded across his chest. " I still am ok with all that stuff. Mr. Henderson, I am getting nervous. Are you sure this will make me a more appealing wife?" I spoke in a rushed panic.
He checked his watch and looked back at me. "Yes." He said calmly. He left the garage through the interior door. I looked about and walked the length of the bar pulling my leash behind me. Fear and regret overwhelmed me. I started crying quietly as I paced.
" I don't know where I am, or who this guy really is. I agreed to obey him and he chains me to a ceiling. I just want someone to hold me." I thought. I sat against the wall and covered myself with the blanket.
He came through the interior door, a beer in his hand. His brown, thick cotton shirt was unbuttoned down to the middle of his sternum, his sleeves rolled up to the top of his forearms. The ends of the sleeves were even, snug and neat bands of cloth. They looked as though the lighter brown interior fabric were pressed into cuffs by an iron.
I wiped my face with my index finger to clear away fouled make up. "Strip." His command was firm but not above a conversation volume. I slipped out of my sundress in a fluid motion. I looped my thong with my left thumb and stepped out of it. He finished the beer in his hand and placed it on the floor to his right. He approached me, My body shook gently, burning the flood of adrenaline in my veins.
He caressed my breasts with both hands, his thumbs teasing my nipples. I reached for his belt and released it. I unzipped his pants and let them fall to the floor. "Turn around." He said. I did so and he stepped out of his jeans. His thumb prodded my butthole, "Not what I had in mind," I thought.
He pulled a small bottle from his shirt pocket. I pressed my ass against his dick and rubbed against his briefs. His hand guided my hips off his lap and his other thumb rubbed oil on my butthole. HIs thumb pushed into my ass slowly. I reached back and grabbed his forearm. He pulled his thumb out. I turned and got on my knees. "Face away, bend over." he said.
"Yes sir" I answered faking enthusiasm as best as I could. A rough hand spread my ass and his cock pressed against my asshole. He grabbed the chain six inches from my neck and pulled it tight, while thrusting his cock into me slowly. "OOOWW!" I yelled as my sphincter squeezed shut around his shaft, my buttcheeks flexing together. Getting stretched out was excruciating. "OUCH that fucking hurts!" I growled as he penetrated deeper. He pulled the chain a little harder against my throat.
"No safeword, I need to become a good wife." I thought. I winced as he reached an uncomfortable depth. He started thrusting. The long slow thrusts made it clear that he didn't oil up his cock too. He pulled the chain even tighter forcing me to press my ass against his hips to breath.
He pumped faster and faster. I gripped my sundress in my fists and moaned quietly as the pleasure increased. He spanked me, "Fuck!" he exclaimed. He released the chain, I licked my fingers and rubbed my clit. We synced our hip movements for an ideal rhythm.
"Yes! Fuck yes! Yess." he said as he began to cum. I lifted my butt to meet his lap as he came deep inside me, as deep as he could reach. His cock slowly receded from my rectum. Cum drained down my pussy lips and down my right thigh. My butthole gaping, shutting with interment pushes, as I purge the cum from my bowels.
I opened the baby wipes, handed him one and cleaned myself. We recovered sitting on the cool floor, him sweating. "5 A.M" he said, dropping the used wipe and fixing his clothes. He then picked up the empty beer can and walked out of the garage.
I sat, looking at my meger collection of supplies. My butt still recovering, I realised that I needed to pee. " I hope the bowl isn't for food!" I said to myself.
