Taking Control Part 10

Taking Control is not just a graphic BDSM story and sex novel, but a full length dark contemporary thriller in 10 parts.

With adult themed erotic romance, and explicit sexual content, it involves Ava and Lorenzo's unusual sex life and sub and dom predilections and certainly gets darker as it progresses. This deals with the aftermath of Ava's experiences at the hands of James, and her final future.

Readers should bear in mind this story is pure fantasy and includes some of the more unusual and painful BDSM themes. Whilst I have personally tried some of the less uncomfortable practices (a good spanking is a favourite), I haven't indulged in strappado, whipping or caning or the medical device aspects. And, of course, no-one condones non-consensual sex.

And, once you've read each chapter, if you like it, please rate it!

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Losing control

James awoke with a headache. It was dark. Where the hell was he? He tried to remember. Had he fallen over? Was he outside? No, it was warm, but he was in pain, sitting on the floor with all his upper body weight taken by his arms. His hands were tied somehow, spreading his arms wide, level with his head.

As his eyes became accustomed to the gloom, he saw a small blinking light on a panel, a few feet ahead. His arms were in agony, tied behind him, to what felt like a rail. His back and neck ached from the enforced upright position. He felt something tied tight around his waist, and his legs were spread wide in front of him, shackled apart.

He couldn't hear any sounds of the city outside though, that constant rumble that drilled into your head every day. He decided to risk calling out and shouting for help. His voice reverberated loudly off walls that sounded very close by, the echo suggesting he was in a small room or chamber. They sounded like metal walls, maybe some sort of steel box, or a shipping container? He'd been in one of those collecting goods from the docks, and they usually stank. But there was no obvious smell in here, which suggested it was clean or possibly new. He gave up. He had no idea where he was.

Despite the tension pulling on his shoulders, he dozed off briefly. When he opened his eyes again, he could hear the high whine of a motor somewhere above, then the box seemed to move. It felt like it was being lifted, maybe by a crane? Were they putting the metal box onto the back of a ship, heading out of Hong Kong?

The movement stopped suddenly. Then there was a rumbling noise, and a dazzling white vertical slit of light appeared directly in front of him. His eyes stung with the brightness of the light after the hours of darkness, but he realised they were sliding doors.

A lift. He was in a lift somewhere, but where? He could make out a figure directly in front of the brightness, the strong sunlight that was coming from a tall high window in the wall far behind. The tall person was standing four feet back from the door and about eight feet away from him. Slowly the image resolved into the outline of a woman, an attractive one, from the outline of what he could see.

As his eyes adjusted to the dark and bright light contrast, the outline resolved itself in more detail. Long legs dressed in dark jeans, with hourglass proportions and a tight-fitting top. Beautiful, rounded breasts too. He could see long shiny black straight hair and just the top half of the woman's face, strikingly beautiful but with a cruel streak to it somehow, revealed by a tight crinkle around her eyes. Her mouth and nose were completely covered by a white surgical mask. In her hand she carried a small black leather case.

"Interesting. You don't have any idea who I am, do you?"

The voice, muffled behind the white mask, was mellifluous.

He wracked his brain but couldn't remember anything from the previous night. Just leaving his office in town and taking his usual short cut down a range of local alleyways to get home. But after that, he remembered nothing.

He struggled to speak, his mouth dry. Had he been knocked out? Or was it the after effects of some drug he'd been given?

"Nn....no. Who are you? What is this place? Why am I tied up in this lift?"

"So, you worked that one out. Bright boy. All in good time."

The voice was calm, smooth, cultured and, in normal circumstances, he'd have considered it sexy too.

He tried to see her better but couldn't move his neck, or look down, his head secured in a type of frame that kept him facing forward. There was something hanging around his neck too. He could feel a cool breeze on his chest, rising up the stairwell and across, into the lift. As his nipples began to stiffen in the draught, he realised he had no shirt on. And where were his trousers?

By shifting his weight slightly on the floor, he swiftly discovered he was naked. His legs spread wide, the rough hard-wearing carpet in the lift was scuffing the base of his scrotum every time he moved.

So, he had been abducted, stripped and tied up on the floor of a lift by this woman or others. He had no idea where he was. Normally highly confident, he began to feel scared. You heard of stories like this in the papers, mostly happening to women. They didn't end well.

"Where am I? Why am I here? What are you going to do to me?"

He struggled to move, but to no avail. He decided to change tack.

"Look, whoever you are, just let me go. I won't tell anyone."

"You're not going anywhere. How can you? You can't move. And you won't be telling anyone about this situation you're in either."

That didn't sound good. A cold chill went straight down his spine. Something tugged at his mind. It was two years since he'd left the country to move to South East Asia. There was something about that voice he thought he recognised, from a time when he had been a lot less gallant with the women he knew and bedded. In fact, he'd admit, he'd never been a modern man or considerate towards women.

"Enough chat. I'll leave this here for you to look at and study, before I go and get changed. It's for the first part of our session."

From around the corner of the lift door she dragged in a small stool, placing the small leather case she held on its smooth top.

Opening the zip around the edge of the case slowly, she flipped it open. His eyes went wide at what he saw inside. A whole series of sleek shiny instruments, gleaming, like they'd come fresh from a hospital operating theatre. Long steel rods and bulbous, fruit-like metal objects. On one side there was a strange long steel sausage shaped device, with a long screw thread attached to one end. There was also a large glass syringe completely filled with green liquid.

She leaned in towards him. The woman smelt of a musky, heady perfume. He struggled frantically with his bonds, around his arms and the restraining head brace, but couldn't move an inch. She lifted up the strange object he had felt around his neck but couldn't quite see.

He glimpsed a leather strap, hanging loose, that went through the middle of a sinister looking red ball. She pushed the rubber ball forcefully into his mouth. It tasted rubbery and dank. Pulling the leather straps round each side of his head, she fastened the buckle on the ball gag tightly around his head. There was a focused concentration in her eyes as she did this, looking behind him.

He realised there was a large floor to ceiling mirror right behind. One of those lifts with a rear vanity mirror, so people could check out their appearance and other people in the lift, as they travelled.

He tried to speak, but all that came out was a mumble. The large ball was forcing his mouth wide open. He felt himself begin to dribble around its edges, sensing warm saliva drip down onto his chest.

"Very fetching. You're less confident than the last time we crossed paths. More subservient, which is no bad thing. You look a lot older too. I guess two years in China does that to anyone."

The last time? What the hell did she mean? Who was she?

She reached in the case for the syringe. Lifting it up to the light, she squirted a little of the green fluid in the air, to make sure it was free of air bubbles. Then she squatted in front of him. He could see she had an expensive gold necklace but couldn't see below her shoulders, his neck stretched tight in the constricting head brace. As she leant down over his damp groin, one elbow leant on his thigh for balance, her dark silky hair brushed briefly across his chest.

"This injection will give you plenty of potential. It won't hurt. You're just going to get a small prick."

She laughed at her joke, then reached down, playing with his soft balls resting on the coarse carpet, lifting up his flaccid penis. Her hand felt smooth and hot. She looked him directly in the eyes as she inserted the needle quickly, deep into his perineum. He felt the muscle between his legs fatten, the one that drove an erection, as she drove in the fluid from the syringe. She got up, looking satisfied.

"We'll just wait a minute or two for it to take effect. I'm sure it will prepare you for all my needs, at least for the next day or so."

Her needs? Next day or so? What was going to happen to him? Within thirty seconds he felt his penis reacting strongly. Blood began to pump in quickly, his cock growing rock hard, as the fluid took effect. Then his balls began to ache, and his nipples suddenly became tender and sensitive. After two minutes he had a raging erection that was so tight it was painful, and his glans felt like it was on fire.

What was in that stuff she'd just given him? He was as stiff as hell.

"Lovely, that's just the stimulation effect that I was after. Here, look how you're responding so well to my wonderful formula."

Pulling a shaving mirror out of the case, she positioned it in front of his gagged face, showing him his bulging genitals. His balls were suffused with a deep red and his penis head purple with the tension from all the hot the blood so rapidly forced up into it. Blue veins were standing out in rigid waves at the base of his eight-inch shaft.

"Lovely. Works a treat. Well, I guess I'll see you later. You're going to suit me just fine, I think. Don't go away now."

She stepped back and waved at him casually, pressing the button outside, to close the lift doors. He was left alone in the dark. Scared.

He was in excruciating pain now. Everything around his groin was tight and rigid. Regardless of what he felt like at that moment, his penis suddenly said that it was desperate for sexual action. That was clearly what this woman wanted. But why?

He tried to work it out, racking his brains, trying to think of who he'd slighted since he got to China. Had they employed this person to do this to him, or was it a personal vendetta? Nothing about her appearance triggered anything, just that scent. He'd smelt it somewhere before, but where? One of the opium dens he'd been to?

He was forced to sit and wait, his neck held as rigid as his penis. He was dribbling uncontrollably, spit dripping from the sides of the ball gag onto his stomach and stiffly erect member.

He began to feel groggy too now. There was obviously something else added to the wicked mixture she'd pumped into him, some sort of sedative. Try as he might, he couldn't stay awake. He blacked out from a combination of the drug, the constant pressure in his groin and from the neck brace, tension and fear.

Catwoman

The woman returned to find him slumped forward, a puddle of drool in his lap. She lifted his head back to relieve the pressure on his neck artery. Wouldn't do to starve his brain of oxygen when she needed it fully functioning. She had to get him into position.

She unfastened the neck brace and undid the bonds on his legs, lifting him up bodily. Despite her slim frame, she was strong. She positioned him against the long steel rail bolted at waist height in front of the mirror at the back of the lift, that he had been tied against. She used special cuffs and clips to shackle him around the waist, and a chain she could loosen and tighten, to it him upright.

His hands were manacled tightly to the rail behind, using the rail mounting points, several feet apart. She left him there on the floor in a sitting crucifixion pose, hands stretched out either side of his head.

He came to, jerking his head up, realising that he was sitting upright. The brace on his head had been removed, but there was a pain in his hands and arms, spread wide apart either side of the strong rail. His back was pressed uncomfortably into the hard steel behind him. He tried to get his legs to work. By tucking his feet underneath him, after a few minutes he eventually succeeded in getting up onto his knees.

His eyes slowly accustomed to the deep red light coming from the tiny LEDs in the ceiling, but the corridor behind the lift doors was still pitch black. It was then he realised that the woman was standing there, watching him from the middle of the doorway, with the ghost of a smile. She had been amused in watching his efforts to get up.

As his eyes adjusted, he saw a little more of her. She had changed, dressed head to toe in a black rubber skin-tight outfit and four-inch heels. An array of large shiny chrome zips were placed at angles around her breasts, waist and groin area. The rubber gave her prominent pointed breasts and a clearly defined, slim waist.

The white surgical mask was gone, replaced by a black panther mask that made her look like something from a superhero graphic novel. She stepped forward, hands on her sexy hips, letting him take in the view of her spellbinding outfit. Her slender legs were spread wide in a dominant pose accentuated by the black leather boots.

"I'm willing to bet that this isn't exactly how you remember me, last time, is it? I guess you've not worked out who I am, have you?"

He tried to reply but all that emerged was a mumbled incoherent sound from the edges of the red rubber gag, still strapped in place.

"Yes, that's why you have the gag on. I don't really need to hear you say anything to me at all. In fact, you just need to watch me."

She switched on the main light in the lift. He blinked hard, but she seemed unaffected, dark lenses built into her smooth cat mask. As she bent down in front of him, he was rewarded with a delicious view of her ample cleavage, the zip on her costume down a few inches. He winced as she groped his swollen balls like a market visitor checking the ripeness of fruit, feeling the tension inside them.

He felt a shiver go down his spine as she took his rock hard penis in a supple hand, stroking it experimentally, checking the drug she had given him was working properly. Yes, he was fully erect, ready for stage one. She watched the dark hairs on his arms rise. His legs and arms were now shaking involuntarily, partly spasming from the time spent immobile and partly cramping from fear at what came next.

"Aaah, that's rather cute. You're maybe still not sure why you're here? A little unsure of what's going to happen next, perhaps?"

She leapt at him suddenly, slapping him hard on the cheek with a rubber covered palm. Then, before he could recover, she reached out to squeeze his left nipple in her long, manicured fingers. He gasped in pain and shock at the unexpected intrusion. She took the opportunity of his distraction to tighten the chain up around his waist, pulling his body back, hard and fast against the rail. He was now sitting fully upright, exactly how she needed him.

She leant in, continuing to toy with his nipples roughly, savagely. He could smell the fresh rubber from the suit, but couldn't see the face behind the mask. He smelt that heady, musky perfume sprayed on her neck, bringing back memories, but from where and when?

To his surprise, she suddenly reached up to unzip the front of her rubber dress. Her firm, tanned breasts spilled out of the gap, framed in a hammock of shiny black rubber. Her nipples were stiff and erect, having been stimulated by the tight catsuit, pointing directly at him accusingly, from the middle of her dark areolae.

He suddenly had a flashback to a prostitute he'd caned over a bench, one drunken night in Wan Chai on Hong Kong Island, the area's infamous red-light district. Was this her, getting revenge? She had a similar build, glistening long hair and the same perfect English. Maybe this was because he'd caned her so severely. Was it her?

He began to relax slightly. The why was the key. The more he thought about it this was exactly the sort of outrageous kinky game a rival in his Chinese finance firm would do. Yes, that was it, a sex tease challenge, to see what he was made of. They'd pay her handsomely for her work and film it all, embarrassing him by showing the film.

The woman squashed her firm nipples up against his bare chest. He could smell lip-gloss and a light floral perfume in her hair. His rigid cock was forced painfully against the crotch of her rubber catsuit. She glanced down at his dark pink penis, opening her legs to trap his rampant member between them. The pressure on his hard glans was intense. She squeezed her thighs roughly around his cock. He whimpered, the stimulant drug coursing through his veins.

Retribution plans were already forming in his head. When he got back to his office he decided he was going to make whoever it was behind this was paying top dollar. Meanwhile, might as well enjoy it. This woman knew how to handle a man, and no mistake.

She released him and he gasped as she put a finger down, touching the solid end of his glans, running a sharp fingernail edge across his cockhead slit. He could feel his penis start to ooze, noticing that her finger was slick and wet as she brought it up to her full red lips, gently licking off the sticky dampness from her long index finger.

"Mmm, that's pretty good stuff. A nice salty precum. Looks like you're ready for action, big boy. In fact, you're quite a bit bigger than I expected. So, this may take some time. I might even enjoy this."

That didn't quite make sense. If it was the same woman he'd met at Wan Chi, then she'd definitely seen and experienced his erect penis before. Unless it was someone else? Did he have the idea of a rival business hoax all wrong? Doubt began to creep in again, but he was powerless to do anything but watch her.

The woman forced his head back, squashing the side of his face harshly against the mirror, at the back of the lift. He heard the sound of a zip and saw, in the reflection in the mirror, that she had unzipped the suit right round and under her crotch. In the gloom her could just make out her tight pink labia lips.

She put a hand to her crotch, wriggling her fingers inside, studying his face in the mirror as she began to play with herself.

"That's the downside of rubber. It's never easy to free yourself up quickly for a little bit of fun. Still, I don't think I need any help down there. There's lubrication enough going on from the thought of what I'm going to do to you next. I hope you didn't have plans for peeing standing up in the future, or maybe fathering any children."

Her chilling words set in, as did the true danger and peril of his situation. This wasn't what someone would say if they were paid to have sex with him, as a prank. His fear mounted, a stab of dread as she began to play with his penis. Now fearing the worst, he suddenly lost control of his bladder.

Given how rigidly erect his penis was, the woman quickly sensed the change in pressure, under her fingers. She stepped back and to the side rapidly, as a jet of hot piss shot several feet in the air, out of the lift doorway.

For a few seconds a liquid green arch spattered noisily around on the carpeted floor, outside and inside of the lift. Then the force of the stream subsided. He was left there in a pool of warm fluid, tied to the rail, urine dribbling all around him.