"I want you to go get yourself cleaned up, Candie. Drink some water, have some food, shower, freshen your makeup, do your hair, and dress up in the outfit I have provided." He instructs me sternly as he lifts himself from the chair, and unfastens the thick leather straps that hold me down tight. His manner has somehow mellowed as he helps me up, lifting my limp body from the sweat soaked table, swinging my legs around to dangle from the side.
"Put your hands behind you, Candie, and stick your tits out for me now," he says softly. My back arches as I comply; my big, round, firm tits lifted to him, hands clasped behind me, with my fingers laced. He pulls at the two clamps at once, slowly, cruelly letting my nipples stretch, letting the clamps pinch to the very edge of my nipples before they snap the last bit closed. The pain is excruciating! I pant and cry, legs kicking like a child throwing a fit. As the blood flows back into the tender nubs, I scream, howling as he laughs and mauls my tits, slapping them side to side.
"Leave your hands back, Candie," he warns as he spanks the gorgeous mounds of titflesh.
Tears stream down my pretty cheeks again, as my nipples surge with blood. He chuckles evilly, rubbing the raw pink nubbins until my head shakes no and I beg him to please stop.
"Oh, I'll never stop, Candie. These titties belong to me now." He gives them both a wicked twist to punctuate his point, eliciting more sexy little whines from my trembling lips.
He places his big hands around my small waist, taking me off the table to stand before him. For the first time, I notice his full height compared to mine. He is only a few inches taller than me as I face him in insanely high heels, but his shoulders are huge. He is dressed well, in expensive slacks, and a button down shirt, nice leather belt, and shiny shoes. I can barely look him in the eye as he tells me to hump his leg.
"Grind your dirty little bitch cunt on my thigh, Candie, and offer me your tits. Like this." He moves my hands up under my shelf of titflesh, and pushes upwards and together.
I obey immediately, shaking, and knowing I could be in trouble should I hesitate. I straddle his powerful thigh and grind my sore little pussy there, my face so pinked up as I push my big stripper doll tits together.
"Mmmm, that's right, grind like the dirty whore you are."
His hands grip my fine little asscheeks as I ride his thigh, my pretty eyes widened as I shyly look up at him. His eyes bore deeply into mine, holding me as if by some spell.
"Whose tits are those, Candie?" he calmly asks; his snarl deep, velvety, and wolfish.
My cheeks deepen their blush as I wet his pantleg with my naughty juices and tell him my tits are his. He instantly grabs them both, lifting me with them to his mouth. I stand on tiptoes, back arched sharply as he devours each ultra tender nipple in turn. His grip is so tight; my huge porn star tits bruise up with his finger marks. It feels very good despite the tender pain they're in, and I nearly cum as he licks them while applying suction, the same way he suckled my clit.
He lifts his head a moment. "Get on my thigh, Candie.....get on there.......good, good.....now grind until you cum," he says, inspecting my form. He seems to be relishing biting, sucking, and licking furiously as I grind my blazing hot little cunt on his flexed thigh, cumming quickly, whimpery sobs as I cream, my hands still clasped tightly. He abruptly releases his grip on my tits, and gives me a hard, open handed slap across my pretty face, knocking me to the floor. I tumble painfully, and look up at him with fear moistening my emerald eyes. His fist is twisted in my silky hair before I can think and my mouth is pressed to his soaked pant leg.
"Lick up your slutmess," he says simply, and my tongue is instantly lapping at the stain I've left there.
It is a delicious cunt mess soaked through a small spot there on his muscular thigh. After licking at it a minute or two, I am, of course, unable to remove the scent and wetness. He releases me roughly, and helps me to my feet.
"Such a sexy little bitch you are, Candie." I notice his cock is very hard and tenting his slacks.
He is gentle, yet firm as he leads me to a door, showing me in and flipping on the light. I stagger on wobbly legs, blinking into the room. "I'll be back in a couple of hours, Candie."
The door clicks shut behind me before I can say a word, and his key turns in the outer lock. There seems no need to check the door, or look for a way out, as I'm sure this violent, though intelligent man has thought of everything. I imagine his security system would alert him to any escape attempts, and I cannot afford to feel the payback of betrayal. Dragging myself to a small, comfortable loveseat, I let my aching body fall into it, and wonder to myself why he didn't just fuck me right then.
I allow myself a few moments of ragdoll limp flopping on the soft, overstuffed cushion, my eyes wide, blinking, my mind trying to adjust, to get a grip on my situation. At the moment I smell the food, I also realize I'm staring at it and sit up. I hadn't realized how famished and thirsty I am until now. The round coffee table in front of me holds a large pitcher of fresh water, a matching glass, and a large platter arranged with fruits, cut vegetables, various cheeses and cold cuts, crackers, artichoke hearts, and marinated mushrooms. Wild-eyed, I find myself stuffing my mouth steadily for a couple of minutes. Chasing the food with a large glass of water, and sitting back to rest, my head is beginning to clear.
I realize that if I do anything dumb and get caught, this man could very well hurt me much more than he has already....possibly seriously, causing irreparable damage. I'm not sure, but he doesn't seem to be murderous, but how can I tell? I think I should do my best to satisfy him, to behave and give him what he wants, no matter if I like what he wants or not. How bad could it be? Whatever he wants me to do, it probably won't be as bad as a broken neck, for sure, and its not as if he's repulsive or anything. In fact, I guess I'm lucky he isn't disgusting and unwashed. Suddenly I realize I am wasting time sitting here when I will be expected to be perfect looking in an hour and a half now. After popping a couple more green grapes into my mouth, I hop up and find the bathroom.
Everything I could possibly need has been provided. The shower is clean, new in fact, as if the bathroom had just been installed. I wonder if he installed this in preparation for my capture. Everything has been thought of, down to the triple bladed razors I use, and the proper shampoo and conditioner for my type of hair. I should be creeped out, but I am delighted as I smell the berry blend body butter and swing the medicine cabinet open to find a new unwrapped toothbrush and my brand of extra whitening, cavity fighting toothpaste. Then it dawns on me....I had been shopping when he kidnapped me, and I had purchased the toothpaste myself. Of course! A gym bag with several of my dancing outfits had been in the van as well. I breathed a sigh of relief that he probably had not been in my apartment, and quickly moved on to prepare myself.
In the shower, I feel distinctly watched as I gingerly soap up my sore nipples and pussy, and the bite on my slender neck. I look up and study the ceiling as I wash myself, but I can detect no way of hiding a camera. Still, I feel his eyes appraising my tan, well toned body as the suds flow, caressing every curve, plane and crevice. It takes an iron will to make myself turn off the deliciously hot water and open the shower door with a roll of steam, and step out into my new reality again.
At the vanity, I fix my long pretty hair to go with the slutty little outfit he has laid out for me. It's not something I have ever worn, but I have admired outfits like this in the store. Its red, whore's red he had called it. I slide on shiny, super tight rubber shorts, with extra low cut with little laces up the front, and a seam that accentuates my ass crack, separating my firm cheeks, and squeezing them. A matching thong that is made to be seen even with the tight shorts on is extra small. The top, cropped to just under my bra line, equally as tight, squeezes my huge tits together, and has laces just like the shorts. The shoes are thick; chunky heeled, platform patent leather slut shoes, seven inches high at the heel. I thought cock teasing pigtails would look perfect with it all and found some fluffy scrunchies to hold them with.
I smooth on the makeup provided, and added more than usual, matching the shade of lipstick to the red rubber, adding fuscia blush and purple eye shadow. The effect was very slut dollish, especially with the schoolgirl hairstyle. At last satisfied, I rise to walk the length of the room, feeling the tight little shorts and panties pinching my clit. If I didn't have a spanked cunt, the sensation might actually be nice. As it is, the pinching tortures my pussy with every step I take.
I hear a knock at the door, and then the key. I stand frozen, surprised at his refined manners despite his sadistic sexual appetite. As he steps through the door, I find myself hoping he'll be pleased with my appearance. He is freshly dressed and looks as if he has also had a shower and a shave. He looks very nice in expensive trousers and a tuxedo shirt with platinum cufflinks. I swallow hard at his expression. He looks as if he'd like to take me right then and there.
I stutter, groping for the words. "Thanks......thank you, f-for the.........the food and..." He holds his hand up to silence me.
"A man takes care of his pet, Candie. Now come," he commands, motioning me to his feet.
I hesitate, halfway to the floor, not sure what to do.
"That's right, on your fours, dirty bitch," he says with a snap of his fingers, the word bitch stressed to add an extra edge to his domination. For the first time, I notice he has something in his other hand, and a chain dangling from it. I sink to the floor and crawl to him, the tight rubber pinching, squeezing every one of my luscious curves.
"Ohhh, Candie!", he says as he fastens what has turned out to be a shiny red collar around my neck, with a leash already attached. His growl is so hot, horny, and voracious. "You're going to make such a satisfying bitch."
