Abducted 9

The throbbing, cramping pain in her cunt brought her back to consciousness. Something that must have been as wide around as her fist was jammed deep inside her. She blinked and tried to wiggle off of the toy, but realized her hands were stretched high above her head, cuffed at the wrists and hooked to the ceiling. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stand on her tiptoes high enough to get off of the thing.

She started to panic and tried to scream, but realized that a cloth gag was shoved between her lips to muffle her sounds. She tried anyway, an angry and desperate yell spurred by another wave of seizing pain as she slid off her tip toes once her calves cramped. She frantically bounced back up, and let the steel of the cuffs bite into her wrists as she held herself up by her arms as best she could. She heard the footsteps fall behind her, and she tensed up and prepared to fight. The second before she could scream again blinding pain radiated from her lower back as something slammed into her.

What the FUCK. She tried to turn to look but couldn't twist far enough, and the pole was bolted to the ground. She searched the room frantically for tools, clues, anything she might be able to use. More footsteps fell along her right side as she noticed a stool in the corner, a baseball bat, a set of gloves, several wooden paddles and canes. She turned to look at the person in the room that had obviously caused what was quickly becoming a deep bruise on her back. He was averagely tall, a couple inches taller than her, were she flat-footed. He looked old enough to be her dad, with callused hands and a lined face and she suddenly became very aware that she wasn't wearing a damn bit of clothing. Where the hell had that gone? The room was cold and concrete and she was shivering already, although to be fair that could have been from a number of things.

He obviously leered at her, watching her struggle to stay on her toes so the fucking shaft wasn't buried to her cervix. The cuffs had begun to cut into her wrists painfully. She flared her nostrils and wanted to yell through the gag, but her mouth and throat were dry and sore. What was happening? Why did it feel like she gargled acid back there? Still, she shouted hoarsely through the gag, which only seemed to entertain him. He chuckled and walked over to her. Her heart rate accelerated and she felt nauseous.

To her utter and absolute devastation, he reached down and put his fingers on the base of the shaft buried in her cunt and brought them up, revealing to her just how much dripping and sticky wetness was pooled there. He sucked his fingers clean while she blushed and shouted at him. She slid once more down the toy as her arms gave out along with her legs, and as she hung tiredly he drew his fist back and landed it in her abdomen in another burst of blinding pain. She screamed into the gag again.

He walked slowly from one side to another and hit her again and again, then forcibly slapped her tits and yanked her nipples away from her body. She sobbed and struggled to breathe through the pain. He punched her again in the abdomen and she thrust forward weakly, sliding the shaft impossibly deeper into her and causing waves of pain. She shook her head frantically as she sobbed, hoping to gain sympathy from this monster.

"Do you know why you're here, little cunt?" He sounded sweet almost, in a way that made her hair stand up on end. She shook her head and tried once more to adjust herself on her tip toes, but knew it wouldn't last for long.

"You're a tease. You go on and on about how you want someone to abduct you, beat you, wearing that ridiculous shirt out, saying you're too dumb to make it on your own without someone who knows better controlling every move. Well, congratulations kiddo. Your fairy fucking godmother is here. And you, little cunt, are fucked."

She knew right away what he meant and the waves of regret made her nauseous again. Her blog had become intensely and irrationally popular, gathering a following of over ten thousand people with a mixture of her personality, kinks and fetishes, and plenty of intimate content of her own. Pictures of her tits, stuffed cunt and ass, tattoos, partners, and quirks were all posted and categorized for public consumption. She was proud of it, but recently it had become nerve wracking even before this. There had been some threats made to her, and with so many followers coming in she simply couldn't screen them all and had given up trying.

A driving pain to her side brought her back to the moment and she shook her head frantically.

"Oh, is there something you would like to say?" He stepped forward with a hunting blade that made her heart thump in her chest. He slid it along her jawline and under her chin, cutting through the fabric just above her throat with the cold steel and pulling the gag from her mouth.

"It's just," her voice broke right away and she started coughing. She caught her breath and tried again. "Its just fantasy for God's sake. I don't actually want this from a stranger. If you let me go now, I won't tell anyone. Please, I'm begging. Just let me off this thing." Her voice was crackling and hoarse and it hurt like sandpaper, but she was sobbing and frantic by the time she ended her plea.

"Funny. You seemed to enjoy it alright." He assured, confusing her further. "Ohhhhhh right. You've been having those memory problems. See, now that there is why I recorded everything. To remind you exactly what happened. And just how much you enjoyed it.

She looked up and noticed the flat screen mounted above her. The screen was lit but paused, and she started panicking again when she realized the display was of herself, on her knees and smiling in adoration at the man who had been brutally assaulting her moments before. "What the fuck??" She barked, trying again to bounce off of the shaft in vain. She had zero recollection of the events on the screen and that fact scared the hell out of her.

"What's wrong, baby, is something scaring you? Don't worry I promise it will make sense soon." He smiled, sweetly again, and it brought her an eery sense of calm. He pressed a button on the remote and the video began at the beginning.

Surveillance footage that she recognized from the café she frequented on her way to work started. On screen, she walked to the counter, ordered and payed, and walked over to the other counter to pay for her drink. She bent down to look at her phone and an iced coffee was set on the counter. Someone in a sweatshirt and hat grabbed the coffee while she wasn't paying attention and started walking away with it. Quickly they turned back around, and gestured apologetically towards her. She seemed to understand and nodded, smiling and taking the coffee from their hand. The other coffee came up on the counter and they grabbed it quickly, then opened the door for her to walk out in front of them. Her heart beat quick again when she recognized the other person as the man in the room with her.

"See, sweetheart? I even got this recording for you so I could show you how we first met, in case you forgot," he smiled at her and hit play next on his remote. This was a recording from the dash of a truck.

On screen he got out of his vehicle and walked towards her car, which had the driver door open and the emergency lights flashing. Traffic zipped by now and again and it was evident she was on a busy road. It was mid-afternoon, and she must have been dying from the heat because when she stood up out of the car her face was red and shining. She gestured at the tire, which seemed to be flat. A conversation took place and horrifyingly she walked back to the truck with this strange man, and he walked around and helped her up on the passenger side before climbing in himself. Now the recording picked up the audio.

"I can't believe my fucking luck," her words were understandable, but just barely as she slurred.

"Don't worry about a thing. I have a spare that'll fit your car back at my place, we can just go grab that and I'll put it on for you. You're just lucky I came the same way as you! Did you let your work know you're not going to be in?"

She took a sip out of her coffee and sighed. "Yes. Thank you, again, I don't know how I'll repay you. I'm so glad to be out of that heat."

The video cut off again here. He was watching her carefully, like he could see the pieces falling into place behind her eyes. Internally she fell apart, and realized just how thoroughly she had fucked herself. He pressed play next one more time.

This was the one that was paused earlier. She recognized the concrete floors of the room that she was bound in. Nobody was there, though, and the room was empty. She watched as the man led her into the room by her hand.

"And this... Is the room you've been waiting to see." He boasted. He looked around, her eyes glassy and smile a little too empty. She nodded.

"Would you want to play in here?" He asked. She turned to him wide eyed, and nodded slowly. "Don't worry, I will take good care of you. But you'll need to take good care of me, too. You know how to do that don't you?"

There was no hesitation. She didn't even seem to notice when her knees hit the concrete. She knelt down and stripped out of her work top and bra so her small tits were on display. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail. While she did this he removed his belt and laid it over the chair, then stepped out of his jeans.

The smug look in his eyes as he looked into the camera made her feel sick again, as she watched herself crawl to this man, pull his underwear down to reveal his cock, and eagerly take it into her mouth. She let the drool from her mouth run freely down her face and tits, and gagged herself on him to where she was gasping for air. He never even touched her, and then the video ended.

"See? You gave yourself to me. You said you wanted to be a part of this. And look!" He slid his fingers along the shaft that she had somehow nearly forgotten and showed her again just how soaked she was, even after watching her sign her own warrant. "You still do!"

She shook her head again and began thrashing around, but the pain in her cunt was too much again and she fell forward limp and pathetic.

"Are you out of fight already little cunt? That's alright. I'm happy to beat a broken slut." He walked over and picked up one of the shorter canes from the corner.

"Please... Take me off of this thing," she pled quietly, ashamed that she broke so easily. The pain in her cunt was going to make her sick. She could feel her stomach in knots from the shaft resting on her cervix, but it was impossible for her to rock herself off of it anymore.

"I thought you liked big cock!" He exclaimed, and he sounded genuinely surprised and hurt. "I made that as a special treat just for you. You don't like it?"

She realized it was time to answer carefully and not make anything worse. "I do, I do. I just... it's been a long time and I need a break. And I need to use the toilet. Please, can I be taken off of this?"

"Of course, I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable or to make a mess." He smiled sweetly, turned, and brought the cane crashing down on her right thigh.

She shrieked and tensed from the pain, clamping down on the shaft. She felt the blow all the way through her body and her ears rang. Before she had even stopped yelling he brought the cane down on the other thigh, leaving a matching welt.

"No, no, no!" She pled desperately. She could feel her bladder pushed up against the massive shaft buried in her.

He ignored her, smiling happily while he landed another 2, 4, 10 strokes on her thighs. The first welts were already rapidly raising and turning bright red and he added more right on top of them. She sobbed and shook, and begged him to stop.

"Stop? But baby you're going to be so pretty. Here, watch." He pulled back his arm and landed with scary accuracy a blow right on top of two rapidly bruising welts. The blow was so harsh that her skin broke, and the minute the cane struck she couldn't handle it any longer. She sobbed hysterically while she released piss down her legs and the shaft and she dry heaved from the pain.

He jumped back and exclaimed in disgust. "What the fuck? What are you, a child? Can't hold your own piss??"

"I tried to tell you," she hiccupped, still sobbing. He walked in the dry spots around her and bent down, unbolted the shaft from the floor, and pulled it out of her roughly. She groaned when cunt clamped down on empty air finally. He unlatched her hands from the hook on the ceiling but left them cuffed together. She tried to stand tall, but still trembled in fear and adrenaline. He landed a fist into her side and pushed her down, and her feet slid on the wet floor and she crumpled into a ball to avoid smashing her skull.

"Disgusting cunt. Look at you. Curled up in your own piss. I can't fucking believe you did that." Each calm sentence was punctuated with a toe crashing into her side, thighs, and ribs and she rolled around trying to avoid him. Her piss soaked into the open cane mark on her thigh and burnt and the smell in her hair and all around her made her dry heave more. She felt something on her other than a kick, and she turned to look just in time for her to piss over her face and front. She was so shocked she just sat still and accepted it.

"Okay cunt, mop it up." He ordered.

She looked around panicked, hoping for towels or a mop even and some detergent. She started to stand up and walk through the house to look for supplies, and he kicked her legs out from underneath her again.

"Mop it up." He said, his voice gravellier and dark than before.

She frantically searched, not knowing what he wanted her to use. There was nothing absorbent here. She was just about to open her mouth and ask how when he grabbed the nape of her neck and bent her over at the waist, pushing her head to the floor and her hair into the piss. He moved her back and forth a couple times.

"Mop it up." He released her neck.

She didn't move right away, but then moved her hair around and tried to absorb the little piss that she could. When she finished doing what she could she sat up, and the piss streamed from her hair down her body. Being wet didn't help how could she was and she couldn't stop shivering. She stared at his boots and flinched when she stepped towards her, bent down, and turned her chin up to look her in the eyes.

"You're mine now, little cunt. Is that understood?"

"Y-yes Sir." She nodded, and splashed more piss from her hair embarrassingly. He laughed and then grabbed her wrist to haul her to her feet.

"You need a fucking shower. You're disgusting. We can talk after that about how you'll adjust into your new role in my life." He stepped out of the room and grabbed a towel off the hall table before he tossed it to her. She wrapped it around her shivering body and followed him cautiously down the hall to a small bathroom with just a shower stall, a toilet, and a sink. To her shock the shower was stocked with her usual shampoo, conditioner, face and body wash.

She stumbled into the stall while he pulled off his t-shirt and stepped out of his boots. He stepped in behind her and cornered her before reaching around and turning on the water. For an instant it was ice cold and she yelped, which made him laugh, but it warmed up soon and she managed to relax a bit.

"Turn," he told her before he reached for the shampoo on the shelf. He squired some into his palm and began to massage the bubbles into her scalp. He fingers were strong and firm and the feeling was heavenly. Before she realized it, a moan escaped her lips. "Rinse."

She stepped under the spray and wouldn't meet his eyes, then worked the conditioner into her hair. He grabbed a wash rag from the counter and started towards her.

"I can do that," she insisted, and hoped to avoid his hands on her. She tried to grab the rag out of his hand.

He caught her wrist in his hand easily and turned it just far enough that it began to ache while he shook his head. She stood still while he thoroughly yet gently washed her all over, with special yet clinical attention to her breasts and between her legs that made her uneasy.

He stood up in front of her and tossed that rag on the floor of the shower, then grinned at her.

"Can't use that filthy thing on me, can we. Here let me grab a fresh one." She blushed at the memory while he reached out and grabbed another rag and handed it to her. "Your turn kid."

She started by washing his torso and arms, but soon had to either choose to wash his dick or bend over and start on his legs and feet. She decided on the lesser of evils and bent down to wash his thighs. As she scrubbed she felt something touch her cheek. His hand buried in the hair on the back of her head and he pulled her mouth to his hard dick and forced her to swallow the entire length down her throat.

She gagged and tried to push herself back, but couldn't move an inch. He slid his dick in and out of her mouth and throat over and over while she sobbed from the pain and struggled to breathe. He fucked her face with the same force he might fuck her cunt, using her until he came down her throat. When he pulled out she sputtered cum, spit, and snot and fell to her knees on the shower floor.

"Good girl," he smiled and pet her head. She looked up at him and the water sprayed and rinsed her face and tits off before she rose to her feet. He turned the water off and grabbed two towels and wrapped her up in hers before he dried himself off. She dried her hair and body and wrapped up again, then followed him out of the bathroom and down the hall to a bedroom.