Her Captivity

Vanessa

He grabbed my left hand and left foot, cuffing them really quickly together as he untied my hands, followed by my legs. It would be dumb of me to try and make a run for it now. That was what he was expecting and I frankly knew nothing about where we were. It's highly likely we were somewhere very deserted if the length of that drive was anything to go by.

"What are you going to do with me? I don't have a lot of money, but I can give you whatever I have," I said, somewhat surprised at how calm my voice sounded.

He smirked, cuffing my right hand and right foot together, "I don't need your money - if I did, I would've gone through a lot less trouble to get it."

"If you're hoping to trap someone here by having me, you're overestimating my value."

"What makes you think that?" he said, cocking his head to the side. I looked at him, trying not to flinch at the coldness reflected in his blue, bordering grey eyes.

"What can you possibly want me for?" I whispered. He raised his eyebrow, "I would think that it's a very straightforward reason," he paused, studying me and then continuing, "you're an incredibly pretty piece of flesh - on your own on vacation. I'd also go as far as to say that you're not really close to anyone. You can disappear - no one will come look," he said, his voice only a matter-of-fact and never threatening. Why threaten when you have facts?

I opened and closed my mouth, not sure what else to say. Before I realized it, something wet fell on my cheek. I was crying?

He tutted softly, squatting, and reaching out to me to cup my face. I tried to jerk back, but having hands tied to feet made it even more awkward to try to jerk away.

His thumb rested on my mouth as the rest of his huge hand cradled my head, his thumb brushed back and forth across my lips before moving to swipe the tears on my cheek.

"You just have to lean into this - that's the only way you can through it."

"Le-lean into wha-what?" I stuttered, wanting to look away from him but unable to. He may as well have been wearing a ski mask for how unreadable his face was. Was he a slaver? Was I about to be trafficked?

"Sometimes a man just decides that he wants something. And there are no amount of boundaries imposed by society that'll stop him from getting it."

"I - I think you have the wro-wrong woman."

He broke out of his squat to kneel, never disturbing the position of his hand. With his other hand, he reached out to grab a handful of my brown hair, combing his fingers through it.

"You'll look so much more feminine when this grows out."

I didn't bother telling him I didn't plan to stick around for my hair, that barely brushed my shoulders, to grow out.

"I-I told you - you have the wrong wo-woman."

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it- I don't make mistakes," he said, releasing my head and my hair simultaneously while standing up. A shiver went through me at the loss of warmth.

He turned his back to me and walked to the drawer at the other end of the room. It gave me an opportunity for the first time to study the room - there was a bed, a showerhead in one corner, a wardrobe, and the drawer he was walking to. Aside from that, there were no other decorations. It was obviously in the basement. There was one window and it was high up and small, only letting a sliver of light to peak through.

There was a thud, that broke me out of my contemplation. I gasped, looking at the knife in his hand.

He smirked, "don't worry - it's just to get rid of your clothes. I would've preferred to surprise you but I don't want you moving too erratically."

He walked back over to me but my eyes never left the knife. It was large and serrated.

"Be a good girl for me and be still okay? I don't want to knick any of that beautifully tanned skin you were working so hard on."

He crouched again and I warily followed his movements as he grabbed my t-shirt, pulled it away from my body, and then dragged the knife along it. I watched the threads pull apart until the shirt hung limply on the sides. He then kneeled, his clothed chest pressed against mine, as he almost hugged me while he cut through the back of my shirt.

I swallowed, trying not to think about how warm he felt.

"It's okay if you want to rub your tits against my chest like a bitch in heat," he suddenly said, breaking the silence. My face immediately flushed but I refused to rise to the bait.

"No smart comeback?" he asked as he put some space between us to cut away the sleeves on both shoulders. His eyes met mine and he smirked again, "there's no shame in liking it when someone older and stronger takes charge."

I once again refused to say anything. He finally finished slicing through my shirt and then he removed the scraps, meanwhile blatantly staring at my breasts.

The chill in the basement coupled with his gaze made my nipples pucker. I've never had someone's undivided attention for so long in my life.

"I like a girl who is not afraid to go braless in public. Those nice tits bouncing with every step. Nipples poking out of the shirt. You have nice nipples too. I can't wait to find out how much abuse they can take."

"Please - I don't want this," I whispered. He put the knife down, grabbed my shoulders, and then maneuvered me so I was on my side. The concrete felt cool against my skin, making goosebumps break out.

"Don't move now - I want to take off those pesky shorts." I lay still, too afraid to move an inch, as he picked up the knife again. He placed the tip of the knife against my skin, wedging it under the beginning of my shorts. He then placed his other hand on the top bottom of my shorts.

"Seeing you all pathetic like that on the floor makes me want to give you a choice."

My heart began beating at that. He removed his hand from the knife, but left it precariously balanced along the length of thigh. He moved his fingers to where the seam of the shorts were riding up against my pussy.

"These shorts are awfully tight," he said as he rubbed his finger back and forth across the seam. Slowly with his other hand, he worked four fingers into my shorts, curling them into a fist.

"I'm going to pull these up so I suggest you don't move unless you want to hurt yourself."

I stilled, too afraid to even breathe, as he began to slowly pull my shorts up, wedging the seam ever so tightly against my pussy and up my ass. A small whimper escaped my lips at the pressure.

"Now look at how obedient you're being - like a really good girl I knew you'd be. You look so much cuter now too. I can clearly see your pussy lips and look at those plump ass cheeks beginning to show."

I stayed quiet, ignoring the heaviness that had started to develop in my pussy.

"I'm just going to have to snap a photo of this so we can both look back on it later," he said, as he stood back up and took his phone out of his pocket.

"Smile for the camera slut," he said with a smirk as he snapped a photo. He then frowned, "you're not smiling in the photo. Let's do that again, otherwise I won't give you that choice I promised earlier."

I wanted to call him out for being unfair - at conditioning that promise on extra things I had to do. But, I knew that wouldn't get me far. So, I smiled instead.

"You have such a beautiful smile," he complimented as he took another photo. It shouldn't have felt nice to be complimented but it did. He put his phone back into his pocket and then crouched back down again.

"Okay - you pretty little obedient thing. I'll let you choose whether you want me to continue cutting through the clothes with a knife - which I'll have to if you're not behaving. Or, I can take these clothes off nicely - no knife involved. We don't have to worry about accidentally nicking that pretty skin. If you go with that option, you'll also get to move to a chair and we can give those hands and arms of yours a break from those tight cuffs. Now, which option should we go for?" he asked in a sweet tone.

He was such a bastard. I knew I shouldn't go with option two. He would soon realize I wasn't worth the trouble and know he was better off letting me go. I know how psychological warfare went. My arms hurt so much though from the earlier car ride and now from the metal cuffs digging into my wrists. It would be so much nicer to sit in a chair, let my legs stretch out. It would give me time to think.

"Tick tock my little girl. If you don't make your choice in the next 5 seconds, I'll take both off the table."

"Option 2," I blurted out immediately. He smiled widely at that, grabbing the knife, gently removing it from my thigh and walking across the room to put it back wherever it came from. He came back, rolled me onto my back, squishing my hands behind me painfully. I tried not to wince, not to give any indication that it affected me.

"What a good girl," he cooed, put his fingers on the seam and rubbed a few times.

"This disgusts you, right?" he said, "it disgusts you that someone like me, who is much older than you, is just rubbing your pussy after he threatened you."

I said nothing, alternating between looking at his eyes and looking at where his fingers were rubbing.

"Cat got your tongue?" he said continuing to rub, alternating between going up and down and around. My heart was thundering as I tried to think about anything else. War. Death. Anything to keep my mind off my throbbing clit. He suddenly pinched it, causing me to whimper.

"You seem very disinterested in this. I guess I should stop," he said as he withdrew his hand. Instead of feeling like I won, I wanted to beg for his fingers back, but I said nothing instead. He unbuttoned the top button of my shorts and began to tug the shorts down. I wriggled, wanting to help him get them off, anything to avoid the use of the knife again.

"So sweet and complicit," he praised. I kept my retort to myself, but tightened my thighs the second I saw the bottom of my panties come into view. He also noticed the wet patch at the same time.

"God, I didn't know I had such a slut on my hands. All I did was mistreat you and rub your sad little pussy a little," he laughed. I couldn't help but blush.

"Okay - now that I've noticed you can relax your thighs or I can bring the knife back."

I instantly relaxed my thighs, that wasn't going to achieve anything. He then produced scissors and cut off my shorts once they were at my knees.

"I'll let you keep that nice black thong on. It's pretty to see that drippy wet patch. I wonder how it'll dry on that pussy once I leave you here," he mused aloud. I said nothing as I saw him procure a key to the cuffs. He unlocked my left hand and left foot. I didn't move, waiting for him to unlock my right side. He instead scooped me up under my arms and hugged me to the chest. He brought his lips next to my ear.

"I'm going to leave that side cuffed until we get to the chair - I wasn't born yesterday." I silently fumed at that. With each step he took, I felt my breasts rub his hard chest. He was strong, immoveable. He put me awkwardly in the chair that was bolted to the floor and cuffed my left hand immediately to its arm. He then unlocked my right arm and leg, rubbing where the cuff had bit into the skin.

"I'll be nicer to that delicate skin from now on as long as you're good," he promised. He then finished cuffing my right arm and both legs to each of the legs of the chair. It was much more comfortable than it was before. After he was finished, he stepped back to admire me as I avoided looking at him.

"What now?" I asked.

"Now - we'll get started with a little bit of reconditioning. I'm not delusional to think that the kind of change I'm after happens immediately."

"What kind of reconditioning?" I asked carefully, seeing him produce headphones and a blindfold. He smiled at me, putting the blindfold over my eyes.

"Take it off," I said, jerking my head side to side trying to dislodge it.

"I need you focused on what you'll be hearing and how it's going to make your pussy feel. Your eyes get in the way of that," he explained as if I was being silly.

"Please, you have the wrong woman," I pleaded.

"No - I think I have the right slutty girl," he said as he put the headphones on. Immediately, there was no sound. If he was saying something, I couldn't hear it. Then suddenly there was noise from the headphones.

"I'll be good, just let me cum, I'm an empty headed little slut when I don't come."

I gasped, it was followed by moans and the man telling her he wasn't sure she deserved to cum.

"This isn't going to work asshole," I shouted, starting to jerk in my bonds. However, I couldn't even hear my own voice through the headphones. I wasn't even sure he was there to watch me anymore. Only the voices in my headphones were left to keep me company.