The Hostage

Charles turned on the backup camera first. Emily took a deep breath and started to speak. "My name is Emily Addison. I am the daughter of United States Governor Franklin Addison. I have consented to everything you're about to see. I have even planned it. This was all my idea. My father needs to be taught a lesson. He is a total hypocrite and I will expose him. My friend Charles Whitley is going to tie me up, and fuck me roughly. I am not on birth control and it is the perfect time of the month for me to get pregnant. I am instructing Charles to keep this recording to give to his lawyer if he is accused of raping me. But even if my part in planning this comes out, my father will be humiliated and should resign."

She nodded to Charlie, who stepped forward and waved at the camera, then moved to turn on the main camera. Emily stopped him. "Not yet. We've got some prep work to do."

Quickly, she stripped out of her clothes and presented herself in front of Charlie. "First, you have to hit me."

"No. It isn't necessary. I don't want to hit you."

"Of course you do. You're always ready to give me a good spanking."

"That's different," Charles said.

"Maybe. But you have left bruises on me. And not just on my ass. You do get a little rough when we're fucking. I'm just asking you to mark my face this time. In cold blood, not in passion. And remember that this is for a noble purpose. Just slap me across the cheek a couple of times. Open palm. No knuckles. That should do it. My father needs to be convinced this is real."

Reluctantly, Charles did as she asked. Emily checked her face in the mirror and decided it would do very nicely. Outside of the bedroom, Charles was a very gentle man and he'd barely touched her. Charles was also a large Black man with enormous hands who didn't know his own strength. And Emily was very petite, no more than 5 foot 4. The bruise covering half her face would shock the hell out of her horrid father.

"Now you tie me up," she told him. Emily had done her research and had trained Charles in several ways to restrain a woman. He carefully tied her to a wooden chair, her arms behind her and her ankles bound to the chair legs. Her thighs were wide open, showing her pussy to anyone lucky enough to be standing in front of her. And through the magic of technology, that would include her father.

At her direction, Charles used Emily's cellphone to take a number of pictures, from the front, sides, and rear. He took wide shots, close-ups, and every angle he could think of. Then he untied Emily and she selected the photos she thought would be most effective for getting a rise out of her dad.

She sent him a text, telling him, "We have your baby girl, Governor. Instructions to follow." Five photos of her bound, naked, bruised body accompanied the words. Then she waited. It would take maybe forty-five minutes for her father to call in the troops. He would be less concerned with her safety at the hands of a kidnapper and more worried about his position and reputation.

Emily quickly set up an elaborate electronic relay, bouncing her main camera's video feed all over the world. It would take an expert at least three hours to trace the signal, and the relay would shift its path every twenty minutes. But it would remain steady. She sent the login code to her father so he would be able to see everything that happened to her in ultra high definition.

Emily lay on her belly on the floor with her hands behind her back. Charles quickly tied her wrists and ankles together, but he was far too gentle. She had him undo everything and start over.

"We have to make it look real," Emily reminded him, once she was securely bound. "Now put the blindfold on me and the ball gag. I've been practicing wearing it so my jaw gets used to it. I managed to get up to ten hours. And don't forget to wear the ski mask every time you step in front of the camera from now on. And be rough with me. It's very important that I get a little abused through this."

Charles fitted her with the ball-gag and blindfold and examined her carefully. She looked very much like a hostage. Now he had to get himself into the proper frame of mind for the next part. He had to play the villain. He wasn't comfortable with the role, but Emily was right about this plan. It was important.

He took off his shirt and put on the ski mask. Then he bent down and picked up the bossy, hogtied, naked little woman. The ropes made it tricky. He couldn't drape her over his shoulder or cradle her in his arms. Charles had to lift her like a wrapped package and carry her over to the mattress in front of the camera.

Remembering Emily's instructions to be rough, he tossed her onto the mattress, then looked at the camera. "That's right, Governor. You claim to be the only one who can protect your state. You claim that you're the best bet to protect the nation as its next President. But you can't even protect your own daughter. You're weak."

With that brief address, he walked out of camera view. And now, he and the watching audience would just wait. Emily was to struggle in her bonds for the next several hours. This video wasn't public yet, but if things didn't go the way he and Emily had planned, it would be made public. Right now, it was just the governor and his staff seeing her bound and nude.

Behind her blindfold, Emily was secretly aroused. She loved being totally vulnerable. She couldn't move, she couldn't talk, she couldn't see. But there were people who could see her. She was naked before them, every inch of her body on display. There was something extremely erotic about not even being able to see the camera that was transmitting the intimate details of her body, let alone the people watching her on viewscreens.

And despite how much she hated her father, maybe even because of it, she felt a taboo thrill at the thought of him being among those who could see her. She couldn't tell where the camera was, but she felt it was behind her, pointed right between her open thighs. The ropes were tied in a way, by her own design, that prevented her from closing her legs.

For hours, she waited there, uncomfortable and under physical stress. Her father had to be convinced that this was absolutely for real, that he was watching his daughter held captive. He could not be allowed to suspect, even for a moment, that she had arranged this, even though she had.

To aid that illusion, Emily occasionally struggled in her bonds, wriggling and twisting, pulling at the ropes. But she had taught Charles well and there could be no escape from the knotted lines holding her immobile. There were microphones feeding audio along with the video, so Emily moaned and grunted around the gag in her mouth so her father and his people could hear her suffering.

She was trapped in her darkness for a long time, becoming stiff and sore and a little numb. It was impossible to measure exactly how long, but Emily had instructed Charles to leave her hogtied and alone for about six hours. Even planning this all out, it had seemed like a long time. But living it, especially in total blind darkness, felt like eternity.

So it was a huge relief to her when she felt Charles' hands on her again. He moved her around on the mattress and untied one of her feet. But he wasn't freeing her. He pulled her leg out to its full length, then she heard the rattling chain and felt cold metal on her ankle, encircling her flesh and bone in a steel manacle.

He untied her other leg, flipped her onto her back and locked her other ankle in place. It hurt, lying on her bound wrists, and there was a sense of fear at the metal replacing the ropes binding her. Ropes can maybe be escaped in time. Not metal. But she had told Charles to be rough with her and she had attached the manacles to the mattress herself, so her fear and discomfort were just the price she had to pay for her goals.

Charles soon untied her hands and cuffed her arms behind her. He left the blindfold and ballgag in place, so she still couldn't see. But she knew where she was now. The chains had been carefully placed to leave her spread-eagled on the mattress. So now she knew for certain that the camera was looking right at her pussy.

And she heard Charles saying his lines for the audience. "Governor, we've all heard the audio of your speech at the American Restoration Society. And we know you meant when you spoke of the "mongrels." You meant my people. The Blacks. You said we were trying to pollute the purity of the American race.

"Well, today, I'm going to prove you right. I'm going to put my big Black cock in your tiny White daughter and put a baby in her. Your grandchild will be half mongrel. Imagine that. We'll see how you really feel about abortion when your daughter has my Black bastard in her belly. You've said on several public occasions that a woman can't get pregnant from rape. So we'll test that theory. Either your own daughter has welcomed my Black dick and my Black man's seed inside her or a girl can get pregnant from being forced."

She heard the sounds of Charles removing his clothing and throwing it to the side. And she felt him crawling on the mattress to cover her. Her father would want to murder him. He'd want Charles arrested and thrown in prison forever. So Emily was glad he'd thought of the other video, a kind of making-of video for him to save, in which she consented to the sex.

In the other video, she had told her father that it was the right timing for Charles to impregnate her. But that was just part of the planning. He'd already succeeded in breeding her. They had been fucking like rabbits for weeks. And when three different tests had confirmed his insemination of her, they'd gone forward with the rest of the plan. Her father would watch the Black man fuck his daughter and believe he'd seen her conceive the Black man's child.

Charles was on top of her now, and between her legs. She could feel his thick, heavy cock on her lower belly. She fought him, to convince her father and his cronies. She tried hard to knee him in the balls. But she had warned him she'd do that and the chains didn't give her much freedom of movement. He easily avoided her defensive move and plunged himself deep in her pussy.

Emily screamed as he entered. He was huge, and there was ecstasy in the feeling of a monster-sized cock pushing into her, but she tried to make it sound like pain and horror. She pretended to struggle against his penetration, but it felt so good, she almost came the moment he was fully seated, burying himself completely inside her. Between her screams and grunts and whimpering, she very quietly whispered to Charles, "Now fuck me hard."

And this was the part he was good at. His performance as the ruthless kidnapper was lacking, in Emily's opinion. Her father would buy it because he was a big Black man, because she had a huge bruise on her cheek, because Charles had been recorded putting her in chains and pushing his dick into her. But she could hear and sense his reluctance in all those things. But a hard and fast fuck was his very best talent.

He pulled out and pushed in, slowly for a thrust or two, then sped up to a brutal, punishing speed. Emily had heard other girls complain about how rough Charles was in bed, and she had snuck into his bed to find out for herself.

Charles had not disappointed. Emily loved the speed and strength of his fucking. And he was so big, he was bottoming out in her pussy with every thrust. It was a violent assault on her most delicate part. But that's how she liked it. Emily didn't recognize things like "too hard," "too fast," or "too big."

She came twice, just from feeling the cock moving inside of her. Then she came several more times while fighting against the chains, relishing her helplessness. She and Charles had no safe word. If it all got to be too much for her, she had no way of letting him know. Between one thrust and another, this could easily turn into a very real rape. And the possibility of that, the knowledge that she was completely in his power, brought her across over and over again. Then, just thinking of all the right-wing racists in her father's staff, watching the Governor's daughter get nailed by the Black man they hated had her cunt spasming yet again.

But after that, she was done. She was exhausted, totally spent. Even if she hadn't been chained to the mattress, she could not have moved a muscle. She was almost dozing in her bliss. She was willing to let Charles keep fucking her, but she needed to check out for a minute or so.

And then Charles was coming himself. He drove himself deep and gave a harsh, groaning shout. Emily woke to feel his big cock pulsing in her cunt as he poured his passion into her. She grinned to feel his essence filling her up. There was a lot of it. The rough sex games turned him on as much as it did her. If she wasn't already knocked up, this load would certainly do the job.

When he'd pumped every last drop of cum into Emily, Charles slowly lifted himself off of her, drawing his length from her grateful creamed pussy. He stood and faced the camera, still panting from his exertion. "Maybe she's pregnant. Maybe she's not. I'll try a few more times before we let her go."

He moved toward the main camera and shut it off, then released Emily from her chains. He left her to remove her own blindfold and gag. When she was finally able to move, see, and speak for the first time in hours, she looked into the backup camera, still running.

"If Charles needs to use this video, let me state for the record that everything you just saw happened with my consent. The plan is to release the video you've already seen if you try to force me to get an abortion or take the morning-after pill. You are a total hypocrite and your support for anti-abortion laws will end the moment you find out I'm pregnant with a Black man's baby. If you happen to discover who that man is and you try to move against him, then I will use this video and you will be humiliated by your own daughter's elaborate attempt to take you down. One way or another, I'm going to make sure you get out of politics."