I wait silently in the dark in a cage. It won't be long now. This is the third day I've been in captivity. He usually comes down and brings me upstairs a few hours after the light from the dismal little window in the basement fades out. I can already hear him stomping around upstairs. The steel at the bottom of the cage is cold against my ass and the bars hurt my back where I'm leaning against them. The whole basement smells of dust and damp. The air tastes stale. My jaw aches from where he slammed my mouth over and over again last night. I keep popping it but the ache doesn't go away. I'm completely naked and I can feel the breeze brush against my pussy, making me shiver.
The door swings open and I hear heavy feet tramp down the stairs. I look up into the blinding light and there he is, in his business suit, sleeves rolled up, shoes clacking on the concrete floor. He reaches the cage and fumbles with a key and yanks the door open. He then reaches inside, grabs me by my long auburn hair and pulls me out and up. I don't cry out or complain. Two whole days was enough to teach me that it was pointless.
"Good girl," he says, his deep voice rumbling. "I see you've learned kicking and screaming is useless. It just makes it worse for you."
I do not respond, as I am not prompted to. I'm only supposed to talk when I'm told. We troop up the stairs and into his parlor. All the shutters and curtains are drawn, but there's a dim light from an old fashioned lamp in the corner. Illuminated by it I see the items I will be experiencing tonight, laid out on the couch. A bullwhip, a baton, a gag. I whimper. The noise slides out of my mouth without my consent.
"Now, now," he says. "You'll only be subjected to those if you misbehave. If you take it like a good little slut, you'll be fine."
I try not to whimper again. There's an old fashioned chair that's been set out in the center of the room. He takes me over to it, retrieving several lengths of rope from the couch as we go by, and bends me over the back. Soon my bare feet are tied to the back legs and my hands are tied to the front.
"Now, you've been a good little fucktoy so far, so we'll start with a reward, shall we?"
He begins to massage my ass. Pulling and pushing against the sore muscles and bruises. Pinching here and there to relieve pressure. It's all I can do to resist moaning. Eventually he works lower down onto my thighs and his hands glide between my legs and then up against my pussy. I squirm just a tad, but resist crying out. Slowly he begins to rub his hand back and forth, back and forth, along the entire length of my cunt; just lightly brushing the clit at the end before pulling all the way back almost to my asshole. He slides one finger in, slowly, inching inside. I bite down hard on my lower lip to stop myself from making any noise. He hates noise. A second finger pops in. He's going just a little faster now, rhythmically pumping me. I sink my teeth further into my lip. A third finger goes in, slamming me properly; in, out, in out. I chew down on my tongue.
Just as my thighs are starting to twitch, he suddenly removes his hand, and my soaking wet vag is left open. Then his tongue is in me, snaking just inside my hole, flicking across my labia, working up towards my clit. When he gets to my clit he immediately starts working it hard and fast. It's too much. I cry out, whimpering. My legs are twitching, my nipples are hard. His tongue stops touching my clit. My heart skips a beat.
"Now what did I say yesterday about making noise while I am entertaining myself?"
"Please, don't. I'll be good I promise." But he's already walking over to the sofa. Soon he's behind me again and I can barely breathe from the tension of it all. He stands there for a good long while, knowing how tense I must be. Knowing how scared. Then, smack, the hard surface whacks my ass, making me jump. For a second there's numbness, then excruciating pain radiates through my ass. Tears spring to my eyes.
