Lovely Dove 02

Saturday morning dawned grey and blustery. All that was left of the previous night's rain was a wet mist, clinging to trees and windowpanes. It took most of the morning for the obscured sunlight to slant through the windows at the right angle to hit Hannah in the eyes. The clacking of computer keys was the first thing to reach her ears. Jackie was awake, or maybe had never gone to sleep. Hannah groaned.

"About time you woke up, drunk ass," Jackie said acidly from her computer. "I had to retrieve you from a strange man on the train. Again."

Hannah grumbled something under her breath, started to sit up, and froze.

There was something hard between her legs, and a feeling of fullness inside of her. "The fuck-" Hannah rolled out of bed with a thump and dashed for the bathroom.

"I keep telling you that you shouldn't drink so much!" Jackie called after her as she slammed the bathroom door.

Hannah frantically pulled up her skirt, yanking down her underwear. The hardness she'd felt was a metal strip going from the swell of her pubic bone between her legs, covering her labia and the opening of her vagina. It was held around her thighs by thin, black leather that joined in the front, closed with a padlock. Hannah tugged, but she couldn't get the contraption off. Her heart started to pound. There was something else - something she could feel inside of her, pressing against the inner walls of her pussy and filling her up. It felt good, satisfying in a way she didn't want to admit.

It also made her need to pee, desperately, and she felt at the metal over her crotch. It at least had holes. She couldn't help herself - whatever was inside her was pressing against her bladder. Hannah sat down hard on the toilet, staring at the padlock between her legs as she relieved herself.

Last night was a blur of lights, noise, and pattering rain. She concentrated, trying to remember details. The clicking of the conductor's hole punch, the rocking of the train. Something else, something fleeting - light touches. Cologne, maybe? Hannah shook her head. She couldn't remember. She groaned and put her head in her hands, flinching as something stabbed into her nipple.

She pulled down her bra and found a folded piece of paper. Her fingers trembled as she unfolded it, a sick feeling crawling its way into her gut. The handwriting on the paper was neat and slightly slanted, blocky, a man's writing. It said:

If you tell anyone, the whole internet will know what a sweet, hot little cunt is between your legs. I have video.

"Oh god," Hannah said, feeling bile rise in her throat. She spun around quickly, kneeling in front of the toilet and emptying her stomach of the remains of the liquor she'd drank the night before. Her head was spinning. Her breath started to get short. She'd been raped, violated on the train, in public, where anyone could have seen it happen. Worse, her cunt throbbed hotly around whatever was buried inside it. Every way she moved, it put pressure on her clit, sending jolts of pleasure through her thighs.

It was so wrong, and Hannah couldn't help that it felt good. She spat, clearing her mouth, and brushed her teeth vigorously. What could she do? She didn't even know who had done this to her. She couldn't tell anyone, not if she didn't want video of her being fondled - or whatever this mysterious man had done to her - to show up all over the internet.

She looked down at the metal contraption again, mouth trembling, and inspected the padlock. Something was engraved on it. Digits. A phone number.

Like a dog tag, she thought, and bit her lip against the surge of shame that moved through her. Worse than the shame was the tiny, secretive spark of squirmy pleasure in her gut. Something about being marked, being owned like this...

Hannah shook it away and stormed out of the bathroom to retrieve her phone.

"Did you have a good time, at least?" Jackie asked dryly.

"Sure," Hannah said, distracted, not really paying attention to her roommate. She needed to go somewhere private to dial the number on the padlock. Jackie would look at her weird if she took her phone into the bathroom. The apartment they shared was the basement of a house, and their landlords let them store some of their stuff in the attic. That was as good a place as any not to be overheard. "I'll right back," she said, and left the apartment, quietly letting herself into her landlord's place.

The couple was out, and Hannah was able to climb the stairs to the attic unseen. Every step made the metal rub against the juncture of her thighs, made her more aware of the hard thing inside. Once there, she yanked up her skirt again and frantically dialed the number etched into the padlock. Her hands started to sweat as the call rang on the other line.

After three rings, someone picked up on the other line. "Hannah," the voice said. It was male, warm and smooth, and Hannah couldn't help but shiver a little. The way he said her name was like a caress.

Hannah scowled. "How do you know my name? What did you do to me?"

The low chuckle on the other line did bad things between her legs. Hannah pressed her knees together, biting her tongue to keep any noise from escaping her. "My lovely dove, you should be more careful where you pass out drunk," the man said. "I know your name because I went through your purse. As for what I did to you..." there was another chuckle. "I did nothing I didn't know you would enjoy."

As soon as he said it, whatever was stuffed inside Hannah's vagina came to life, vibrating hard. Hannah let out a soft, breathy, "Oh!" without meaning to and writhed in place.

"You see?" he asked. "You have such a wet, wanton little cunt. It was practically begging me to be filled."

"You're sick," Hannah said, teeth gritted. Lord help her, it felt good. Too good. Whatever he'd put inside of her was pressing against all the right places. "Stop, please, just- just stop."

To her surprise, the vibration did stop, but Hannah's sigh of relief stuck in her throat at the man's next words. "I wouldn't want you to come before I could see you fall apart," he said. "You do want me to take the chastity belt off, don't you?"

"You- I-"

"You'll never get it off without the key," the man said, and then suddenly the vibration was back, even harder than before. "I can do this to you whenever I like. The receiver has a prodigious range. If you decline to come to me, I'll simply have you at my mercy... whenever I like."

"Stop!" Hannah said, throat closing on a sob. She was so close, so close, after being stuffed full all night and aching. Even if she hadn't been awake for it, her body had accepted it without her.

The vibration stopped again. "You'll receive a text with my address. Report me to the police, and you know what will happen. Do not mistake me - I have many resources at my disposal. I will not be caught. You will come to me."

"No, don't-" Hannah said, but the phone disconnected before she could finish her sentence. Almost as soon as the call hung up, the thing inside her started to vibrate again. It wasn't as intense as it had been before, and she could only conclude that whatever dildo or vibrator the man had put inside her had several settings. He was playing with her, keeping her on the maddening edge of orgasm without letting her fall over. Hannah sat down, gasping, pressing her knees together and concentrating on not falling over that edge. Her body might think this felt good, but her mind knew it was wrong.

Her phone buzzed just as the vibration intensified. Hannah could do nothing for a moment but bite her lip, hard, riding it out until her tormentor backed off, dialing it back down to the lowest setting. She felt hot and heavy between her legs, the flesh throbbing. Hannah checked her phone with trembling fingers and mapped the address, head spinning. He didn't live far - only a few blocks. She could walk there.

Hannah's hand clenched around the phone. What was she thinking? She wasn't going to go to him, she wasn't going to let him win! Whatever video he had taken, surely it was obvious that she was passed out? What was the worst it could show?

Shame flooded through her again. She was actually thinking of letting him post that video. It couldn't happen. What if someone she knew saw it? It wouldn't be a threat unless her face was in it, and someone who had planned this much would have been careful to get her face-

Her train of thought stuttered to a halt as the vibrator buzzed intensely again, the highest setting yet. Hannah panted, leaning forward with her head propped on her knees, phone clutched in her hand. The phone buzzed again, and she looked at the text message.

I'm waiting.

A lump rose in Hannah's throat. She didn't have another choice. She had to go if she wanted this thing out of her. She punched the keys on her phone angrily, sending, 'on my way' as she got to her feet. A few seconds after she sent the message, the vibrator shut off again. She let out a slow, relieved breath. It seemed that the man would leave her be as she walked to his house. Hannah's cheeks burned with shame as a thought popped into her head - it was a good thing he'd shut the vibrator off, because if he'd left it on she would have come all over herself before she got halfway there.

Hannah stomped down the stairs and slammed back into her apartment, yanking last night's clothes off with her back to her roommate. Jackie didn't look up or turn around - the girl was a recluse, and barely tolerated humanity in general and Hannah in specific. Hannah yanked on a pair of jeans, gritting her teeth as the tight denim made the vibrator press more firmly into her. She changed her bra and her shirt and pulled a brush through her hair. "I'm going out," she said.

"Off to get some hair of the dog?" Jackie asked without looking up from her computer. "Don't make me come get you from the train station again."

"I won't," Hannah said shortly. She grabbed her purse and practically ran out of the apartment. She had to leave her own neighborhood and cross a main road to get to her tormentor's house. The temptation to call the police made her fingers itch. They would be able to get her out of this contraption - they would have bolt cutters.

But no, how did Hannah know he wasn't watching her? He lived so close. He could have been following her for weeks. He could be watching her right now. She swallowed, glancing nervously around the street as she walked, the vibrator pressing up against the sweet spots inside of her. Her cheeks felt like she had a permanent blush staining them, and her breath came rougher than it would if she had just been out for a walk.

Anger surged through her. Just because she'd been passed out, how was that any excuse for this kind of torture? Hannah resolved to find a way to get rid of that video and report this man to the police. She had to get him caught. This plan was too involved for her to be the first one. He'd done this to other girls, she was sure of it.

The neighborhood where the address was located was better off than Hannah's, with larger homes. She could hear the surf and smell the ocean mist as she jogged down the block, biting her lip against the sensation of the vibrator, rubbing against her with every step.

Her steps slowed as she approached the address she'd been given. She checked it against her phone. Now was when she would see the face of the man who had done this to her. She bit the side of her tongue and marched up the driveway to the front door, trembling despite herself.

As soon as she knocked, the vibrator started up again on the lowest setting, making her squirm as the door swung open. She tried to glare, but probably ruined the effect with her bottom lip between her teeth and her hands twisting in the hem of her shirt.

She had expected a sweaty, fat man, the stereotypical basement dweller that every girl's parents warned her against. She hadn't expected him to be tall, or broad in the shoulders, or have such piercing eyes, blue-green like the ocean after a storm. His hair, greying at the temples, was full and brown, styled impeccably. His button-down shirt was stretched taut across a fit figure. Hannah's mouth went dry. He smiled.

"Hannah, my lovely," he said, reaching out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. Hannah flinched away from him, and his eyebrows knitted together in an expression like concern. Hannah wasn't fooled. The only thing in his eyes was wicked hunger. "Come inside."

Hannah hesitated, slowly putting one foot in front of the other. She had a sudden, terrible feeling that once she crossed the threshold, she would never return. She stood frozen in indecision, one foot poised above the doorway. Then the vibrator turned up and she gave an involuntary, whole-body shiver, glaring as she entered the house.

He shut the front door behind her, threw both deadbolts, and then was on her before she could move. He pushed one hand into her hair, yanking her head back and pinning her against the door with his weight. "Please," Hannah said, struggling to get away from his grip, but it was like iron, and his body was like stone, muscular and unyielding.

"Lovely dove," he whispered, his lips tickling the shell of her ear. "Don't waste your breath begging me to let you go. You came to me. I own you, now."

Hannah's throat closed on a sob as he grabbed her wrist and wrenched her phone away from her. He kept her pinned the door with the grip on her hair and the weight of his body as he paged through the menus, pulling up her calendar, her planner, all her personal data. "Ah, your responsible roommate's name is Jackie, I see," he said. "If only she had trusted her instincts about me last night, you might not be here today. We'll have to send her a text later to let her know you won't be coming home tonight."

That provoked another small sob, and Hannah shoved against him, struggling to get away. She whimpered and went still when the hand in her hair twisted, sending shooting pains across her scalp. "That won't do," the man said. "I knew you would need training - best for us to get started right away."

He pulled her away from the door by the hair. Hannah staggered, her hands going to his wrist, trying to pry his hand away. He paid no attention to her efforts, pulling her along behind him like she was nothing. She struggled harder when she saw the bed and was rewarded with a sharp smack to her ass. Hannah sucked in a breath. The blow surprised her into stillness long enough for him to throw her down on the bed and straddle her hips.

She started to struggle again as he worked her shirt up over her head, and then harder when he unhooked her bra. It was like trying to throw a pile of bricks off her back. Her captor looked like he was in his mid-forties, but his grip was like iron. He leaned forward, pressing her down to the bed with his body weight. Hannah heard something jingle off to the side of the bed, and then he took her right wrist and wrenched her arm around behind her back. Something like cloth or leather closed around her wrist, and then she heard a sound like a crank being wound. As he grabbed her left wrist and repeated the treatment, Hannah pulled, and found that she could barely move her arm an inch before her shoulder protested.

The man's weight left her back, but with her arms tied down the way they were, she couldn't get the leverage to sit up. Hannah pushed, trying to get her knees underneath her, but he wrapped both hands around her ankles and yanked, undoing her jeans and pulling them down off her legs. "Please don't," Hannah gasped as he pulled her underwear off. Getting up on her knees gave her leverage, but with her pants off it also exposed her, put her ass up in the air and put her cunt on display.

Not like he hasn't seen it before, she thought, and flushed dark red. It didn't seem to matter that she laid prone against the bed - he put one hand on her hip and the other behind her thigh, shoving her up onto her knees and spreading them wide. "Stay like that," he said, his broad palm cupping her ass.

Like hell I will, Hannah thought, and kicked out with her right leg. He caught her foot and shoved her leg back into position. She was rewarded for her small rebellion with another smack to her ass. She gasped and jerked away from the sting, but it was followed by another, and another.

"If you do not do as I say," the man said, punctuating it with a hard slap to the inside of her thigh, "you will not enjoy this anywhere near as much as I will."

"I'm not going to enjoy it anyway," Hannah snapped.

She could hear the smirk in his voice. "Is that so?" he asked, and then the vibration inside of her intensified again, cranked up to its highest setting and left there. "I suppose I'll just leave you to it, then."

The bed dipped and rustled, and then Hannah was alone, cool air moving across her bare skin as she fought the sensation between her legs. She could feel an orgasm building in her, her breath coming shorter and her cheeks flushing hot. Fingertips brushed against her cheek and her eyes flew open. He was staring down at her, his gaze hungry and intent, watching her come apart in his bed. The thought made her shudder. Her eyes squeezed shut. She was so close, so-

The vibrator shut off as soon as she reached the precipice. Despite herself, Hannah let out a soft, "No!"

"Ah, and here I thought you didn't want this." The bed dipped again, and his hands returned to her body, running down her sides and over the curve of her ass, down the smooth skin of her thighs. "You will do as you're told, and stay where I put you. Won't you?" Hannah said nothing, and then let out a small, hurt noise when his palm crashed over her asscheek again. "You will, or I will keep you hovering at the edge and never let you come."

Hannah's heart thumped, and a hot tingle went down her spine. She'd been on the edge too long already. She wanted to come, if only to get it overwith. "I will," she said quietly.

He smacked her on the ass again, and she yelped. "You will what?"

"I will do as I'm told, and I'll stay where you put me," Hannah said, miserable, her cheeks burning with shame.

"Good girl," he said, stroking a gentle hand over her hair. It made something twist in her gut, something pleasurable, and Hannah buried her face in the bed. "None of that, now," he said, and grabbed her chin firmly, turning her head so that her cheek lay against the bed. "I want to see your face." She opened her eyes and glared helplessly, her cheeks bright red. He pushed her hair back behind her ear. "You liked it when I said that."

Hannah squeezed her eyes shut and tried to shake her head. He spanked her again, the sound loud in the quiet room. "Yes!" she burst out, feeling like it had been dragged from her.

"Well, well," he said, sounding pleased. "I knew you were going to be good. It didn't take much, last night, to have you react. I knew you'd be sensitive, but I didn't know you'd be submissive."

Hannah kept her eyes closed and stayed silent. Hearing him talk about last night made her stomach turn, and even worse was the shame in knowing that he was right. She was submissive. She always had been submissive. If this had been her choice, her decision, she would have loved every second of being pinned down at his mercy. And yes, the praise felt good. It sent a jolt straight between her legs when he told her she was a good girl, and she hated it.

He leaned forward, pressing his hips against hers, and she could feel the hard line of his dick through his pants, nestled in the crack of her ass. She gasped in a shuddering breath and held perfectly still, not wanting to encourage him with even the barest hint of movement. His breath washed hot against her cheek. He nipped her ear playfully, his hands stroking over her body. He worked one hand in between her and the bed to cup her breast, running his soft fingertips over her nipple. Hannah shivered, her breath quickening, and he chuckled. "Lovely dove," he said. "So beautiful. What do you want, Hannah?"