tagNonConsent/ReluctanceCaptured Ch. 03

Captured Ch. 03

bySerenityDel©

Ch. 3 - Reward and Denial

There was a brush against my lips, while the feel was unusual I was already becoming conditioned. I opened my lips automatically around the foreign object. I was shocked to find it was a straw, and for only a fleeting moment I thought to turn away; but, I suppose there was some thought that one way or another this would solve at least one problem. If he wanted rid of me, then it was the escape, however permanent, that I had begged for. If he didn't want rid of me, then it was just... after care? I tasted the cool water on my lips, and drank it down greedily. The coldness soothed my scream raw throat.

I heard his steps moving away. I tried to picture what was happening next, what new torture he had devised. My mind refused to cooperate. In some respect, I suppose it was better to not know. As the soft steps returned, I am sure he felt my flinch away from his touch. The soft washcloth trailed over sweat-slicked skin. His touch was surprisingly gentle as it caressed over my too sensitive holes. My icy blue gaze narrowed in equal parts confusion and suspicion. I trampled any glimmer of hope; I did not look on this as the potential for being set free.

The cloth must have been set aside now, a new piece of material in his hands. The thick piece was wrapped over my eyes. I was already unable to see anything... why was the blindfold needed? I cried out low, I could not help it, as he released the clips securing my slender ankles to my wrists. The muscles were tight under the strain they had been in. His strong grip massaged first along one and then the other, bringing the blood flow back to abused flesh. For a few moments there, I am not sure which is worse, the pins and needles sensation was overwhelming.

There was a small sound of what had to be a winch of sorts, because I seemed to be lowered, first my toes touching the floor and then the rest of my feet, until I could support myself. He repeated the process with my arms. Some part of my mind was screaming at me to fight back, now that I had been "released" The rest of me was already bent under the spell he was weaving. I meekly stood there instead. I lied to myself, convincing myself the time was not right; I did not know where I was, the dark was too consuming, I had no clothes... the excuses were numerous; for now they eased what was left of my conscience.

His broad hand covered my lower back, the pressure increasing until I took a step. Another hand closed on my shoulder, guiding me. I had to trust him. Shaking my head slightly, I am sure, once again... that was folly. I was trusting the man that had drugged me, kidnapped me, raped me, whipped me. I kept telling myself I had no choice. I kept trying to reassure myself I was just waiting for the right chance.

I heard a small click, and a pale light just edged around the blindfold. I could not help it; I reached for the cloth. His hand stilled me. His voice was low in my ear, too low to give any chance of recognition. "Count to 30 first, remove the blind, eat the meal slowly, and shower. When you are done with the shower, you will have one minute to dry and replace the blind before I return." I nodded slightly to acknowledge; I did not trust my voice at all. There was no need of threat from him for non-compliance; he seemed to have already known that.

I counted slowly, not wanting to bring about trouble for rushing. Blinking a bit, it only took a short bit to acclimate to the soft light. There were small bite-sized pieces of fruit, cheese, and breads; along with another glass of iced water. I saw no utensils, but, then I had not really expected them. I did rush through the meal; I know the last meal I had; but, I had no way of knowing how long ago that was. The shower was beckoning.

I adjusted the taps, and stepped beneath the hot spray. Letting it course over me for a few moments was heavenly. After washing and rinsing my hair with the scents of rosemary and mint, I lathered up the small sponge with the same wafting scents. I tried not to wince at the brushing of suds over my tendered skin. I knew I had dallied a bit under the soothing spray, and finally rushed through the last of the rinsing. I pondered leaving the water running as I dried off. To give me a few moments more to gather myself. I knew somehow though, that he watched me still, even alone in the room; I felt his presence.

Turning off the water, I quickly reached for the towel, drying off in what seemed only seconds. He had not said to do so, but, as I reached for the blindfold, I turned away from the door. My breath quickened as the light disappeared beneath the cloth. I remained motionless even as I heard the door open. His body stepped up close behind mine. I felt just the brush of a kiss upon the top of my head, the whisper of his voice... "very good". I denied the rush of warmth at his words.

He took the towel from my clenched fingers. Leading me from the room, we seemed to cross the room once more to where it had began. But, I had no real way of knowing. I almost fought then, my body stiffening as he leaned me over the table. I heard the soft murmurs of comfort. I did not want to give in. His touch became more insistent. I relented of course, what choice did I have?

He did not put any binds on me this time. He removed the blindfold, although I still remained in darkness. I felt his strong hands gliding over my skin. He must have covered them in some sort of lotion or oil. The fragrance of it wafted over my senses. His touch was sure. I felt myself relaxing against my better judgment. I suppose I must have fallen asleep. His hand shook me gently, urging me to roll over. I hesitated some, and his touch became more insistent. I gave in, of course, what else was I to do? The massage continued once more. The touch intimate and impersonal all at once. I was sure I was blushing.

My confusion was only growing. The questions in my mind increased. From his harshness to this gentleness... was it even the same person. How could there be such difference. I almost thought to beg him to let me go; thinking perhaps it was a new person. That perhaps he was also a captive and that between us, we could escape. Just as I was sure he would stop, step away, and leave me in the pool of jelly I had become with his ministrations; the touch changed.

His long fingers grazing over bared folds. The flesh tender already, only seemed to become sensitive. His knowing fingers just grazing the edges. My fingers gripped the edges of the padded table to keep from reaching for him; whether to push him away, or push his hand closer to my core... I would not be able to answer. I felt his warm breath a moment before his tongue laved over one nipple. The initially gentle suckling became more insistent as my breath quickened. His palm pressing against my clit as a single thick digit slid between slicked folds.

I bit back a small cry. I did not want to respond. I did not want to give in. But, I could not help it. It was not as if I could hide the sudden slickness as his finger claimed my silken walls. His teeth nipping the darkened tip, tugging the beaded flesh. My grip was surely white-knuckled by now. The sounds threatening to escape were muffled as I put all my effort in trying to pull away, even if to my rational thoughts it was feeble at best.

A second digit was added to the first, I could feel them curving to brush over the spot that had been elusive to any before you. My teeth nipping harder upon full lower lip, it was becoming almost impossible to hold back sounds and reactions as his mouth closed over the momentarily neglected nipple. Giving it the same brutally-sweet treatment as the first. I felt my hips curling toward his thrusting fingers; felt my body nearing the edge. I did not care how or why I was there in that moment, only that he sent me flying once more.

And then as if it had only been my imagination, he straightened and withdrew his fingers. Patting my lust-swollen folds with a feather light touch; he resumed the tender massage as if it had never stopped. I imagined his smirk at my small whimper of protest. It was an endless vicious cycle. For all I knew it could have been hours or minutes that he continued this sweet torture. I lost count after the fourth time he took me to the edge. I was sure that I had held out a time or two after that, surely I did.

But, it was impossible to hold out any longer. I did not care how weak it made me, did not care what anyone would think if they knew. But, the moment the massage ended, and his fingers lightly caressed my throbbing folds, I begged. I could not have repeated the words, for all I knew it was unintelligible; but I could not take another round. I begged to be allowed to cum, begged him to let me cum for him. I think I even begged for him to fuck me; if only to be allowed to cum.

He reached for a release on the table, I heard the restraints before I felt them close over my ankles as he moved my legs wide. I felt the caress of his calloused fingers securing my wrists, and then my waist. My breath was held in anticipation. I needed this orgasm more than my next breath, it seemed. So attuned to him, I knew as he stepped between my thighs. I heard the sound of a zipper being drug downward. I heard the sound of his hand stroking along his thick hard length.

I begged for it. I begged for him to fill me. But instead of stepping closer, instead of filling that void in me, I heard his hand sliding quicker. I heard his quick panted breath. I heard the small growl of pleasure, before I felt the heat of his cum spurting out over my body. The thick cream landing on my belly, and over my pussy; marking me in his cum. One hand reaching out, and rubbing it into my flesh as thoroughly as the massage oil from before.

I begged for his touch. I promised to be good. In that moment I would have promised anything. I heard his steps approaching the top of the table. I felt his head against my face. My lips opened instinctively as his hips thrust forward, thrusting his still semi-hard length between my lips. I tasted the oil, tasted the last traces of his cum. As he pulled back, he murmured something about me being good... and to sleep... for now.

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