A Sweet Touch Ch. 02

"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."

I am led out of the room, crawling like a little doggie slightly behind him, through the dimly lit room I had spent my first day in. I get the distinct feeling of being underground, in a basement, where my screams cannot be heard. I find myself thankful that this man hasn't shown signs of gory violence, or a desire to kill me.

I can see around the room now, without the bright spotlight on me, and it looks just like dungeons I've seen in porn flicks and pictures. Various spanking tools and other devices hang from small hooks in the wooden racks, and in turn are attached to the concrete walls. There are several kinds of bondage tables as well as the apparatus hanging from the ceiling that I'd first been put in. At the end of the long room, the ceiling opens up, vaulted, with a large wooden beam. Beneath, directly in front of us, is a stage. As he tugs me along I crawl as fast as he leads, and I begin to see it more clearly. It's the stage where I work! Or, more precisely, it's a perfect representation of it. It's large, with a long catwalk out front, backed by mirror tiles. Its floor is polished wood, and the brass pole stands in the middle of one of the L's in the back. My pretty little painted mouth is hanging open, and I click it shut as soon as I realize it.

"It's even better than the stage where you work, Candie," he says, as if he's read my mind.

My heart raced when he said 'works', indicating that I still have a job at the club. Maybe he doesn't plan to keep me prisoner forever. "You'll have to be careful not to trip over the specially installed rings in the floor," he says as he casually points here and there. He tugs me to my feet, choking me a bit with the snug collar. Unhooking the leash from the ring in it, he urges me toward the small staircase with a smack to my firm butt cheek, making solid contact with the tight rubber.

His fresh drink awaits him as he takes a comfortable seat in a nice leather chair, ones you'd never find at the seedy little club I dance in. With a remote control, he clicks on the lights and some dirty, grinding metal music booms from hidden speakers. I recognize it from the club. The very sound of it makes my body move. I climb the stairs and instantly, I'm in stripping mode. It's a state of mind that takes over when a girl hits the stage. She becomes one with the tunes, moving her body in ways that allude to her sexual desires. For me, the movements are very flirty, and get downright filthy. When I dance, my body begs to be fucked, and I rake in the tips. I cannot see him now, with the lights on me, and none on him. As I dance, strutting and undulating, I wince every now and then as the ultra tight red rubber pinches my pussy.

After bouncing and grinding for well over twenty minutes, I begin to strip off the tiny, tight outfit, first sliding the tight shorts down a bit, and letting them tease at just under my tight ass cheeks. I hear him growl just behind me, startling me for a moment. He stands at the edge of the stage, his fingertips drawing lightly across my skin, along my perfect ass and down the backs of my smooth thighs. I squeak as he delivers a swift smack as I am bent forward, the shorts cupping my ass cheeks. He spanks again and again, calling me names with each swat.

"Dirty little witch.......fucking cunt.....cock teasing whore!"

He yanks the shorts down hard, and slides them to my ankles, running his hands down my ass cheeks and long legs, leaving me in the pinching little thong and tit squeezing top. I hear his shoes on the polished concrete floor, walking back to his chair. I step from the shorts and keep dancing, writhing, hips grinding, sexy muscles flexing as I undulate, treating him to all the moves I would make at work. My hands smooth over my body, caressing, dragging up each opposite arm, uncrossing across my chest, and allowing the backs of my hands to slide down the sides of each perfectly sculpted tit. I hear him groan in pleasure as I sink into the splits.

"Spread those legs, slut," I hear him say, and I imagine him stroking his cock, though I cannot see.

I am careful to avoid the rings sunk into the stage, and my vivid imagination has me in various positions, bound to them. While grinding my hips on my fours, I hear him approach again.

"Get those panties down around your thighs, Candie," he growls, with a stern, commanding quality to his voice.

I slip them down and roll my hips slowly, my soft, pretty little cunt making mesmerizing little circles, round and round. I drop to my elbows and wag my slutty little fuck holes, tempting him every bit as much as I would at work, even knowing that no bouncer can protect me now. I thrash my long hair around wildly, letting it flip and whip my back. His voice rumbles with a moan as he strokes his cock and watches his captive cunt.

"You want me to fuck you, don't you, Candie............fuck yeah, you want it, DON'T YOU?" he yells, and I look back over my shoulder with a sexy pout.

"Yes, Sir, I do!" I wag my slut tail fast, side to side like a bitch in heat.

"I want you to fuck me please, Sir!" At once his big hand is at my pussy, cupping it, stroking it open.

"Oh yeah, opening up like a flower for me, Candie.........you're so wet, you little slut. Those panties pinch you here?" he asks as he pinches my clit, pulling it roughly before spanking my soaked cunt lips a couple of times, the sound so lewd as my juices coat his hand.

I keep my thighs spread wide, the tight red rubber thong cutting into the curves of my sexy, nicely shaped thighs. Before I can recover from the sting, his cock is at my tiny opening, his hands gripping my slender hips, his thrust firm and mean. I scream as he hilts his huge cock in my tight cunt. It must be the biggest cock I've ever had. It hurts more than it feels good, but my naughty pussy clenches, milking it anyway. He fucks so hard and brutal, rutting me with animal force. He grunts like a beast with each wicked thrust.

"Gawd, you're so fucking tight, Candie.........fucking whore..............tight fucking whore," he growls as he pounds me, slamming harder than I've ever been slammed, making me yelp in pain and cum at the same time. He pulls me hard back onto his cock, jarring me heavily.

"Oh gawd it feels so good!" He moans as he pushes down on my back, until my cheek and tits are against the floor. His spanks are so hard; they bring tears to my eyes, reddening my perfect bottom with his big, thick hand. He fucks so deep and hard, all I can do is squeal and whine like a horny brat.

Suddenly, he is pulling his cock free, and flipping me over, pulling the panties roughly from my legs, ripping the fabric like an animal, crawling up over me, naked except for his shirt hanging open. His cock slams right back into my cunt as he slaps my pretty face, stinging my cheeks as he smacks back and forth with considerable force, his hips crunching, abs flexed like steel bands as he fuck me, punishingly, furiously.

"You love it don't you! You fucking love it you bitch!!!" he snarls as he slaps me, pounding hard with each word as he calls me names through gritted teeth. "Dirty fucking whore!!...........tease MY cock............bitch!!!"

The vicious slaps move from my bruised face to my sore slut tits as he rapes me, punishing me for simply going home at night. His cock is so big, such a brutal thug as he fucks me, making me scream and cry, my makeup all messy now, smudged whorish paint all over my beautiful, slapped up face. His face is very close to mine, and his mouth covers my glossed lips in a claiming kiss, his tongue delving deep. His lips move to my neck, kissing along my jaw line and under my ear, growling dirty things to me as he fucks me, his hands slide along my slender arms, pushing them up overhead, my wrists pinned with one strong hand, the other around my big, firm mound of tit flesh, squeezing hard as he mumbles hotly.

"Tight little whore.......so good..........mmmmmm, so wet.....cunt! Do the splits, Candie!"

I spread my long legs out to the sides, pointing my toes, legs flexed, my tender little cunt completely vulnerable. "Take it, Candie......every inch." He stabs his long, thick, rock hard cock in over and over. Raising himself up a bit, his gazes wanders down each mile of my model-like legs, then back to my whorish little doll face.

"Beg for my cum, Candie. I know you want it," he commands.

With teary eyes and a screaming well-punished cunt, my trembling lips move, the words drawn from some porn I'd watched in the past. "Ooooo, please cum in my naughty little pussy sir! Pleeeeeease give me ALL your cum! It's all I want! Pretty please, sir!"

At that, his load explodes deep inside me, his groan so deep, lusty, loud....so loud it's frightening. It's the most satisfied sound I've ever heard. He delivers one more vicious slap to my face before pulling his wet cock free of my spasming slut hole.

"You'll crawl to me, get out your tits, and beg to lick this cock clean, Candie. Don't think for a second you are anywhere near finished being my whore today."

Slipping from my clenching cunt, and leaving me laying here, legs closing, and chest heaving for breath, he rises and observes his work. As I sob and hold my bruised pussy, he flicks my arm back with his foot, making me lay there, sweating, marked up, with his cum oozing from my reddened pussy. He steps between my long legs, moving them wide with his stance.

"Gyrate your hips and tell me how much you loved it, Candie," he says, his voice a low, husky whisper, his huge cock hanging, glistening with my juices.