Lovely Dove 04

Hannah lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The dim glow of the street lights filtering in through that gap at the top of the curtains illuminated the room in a hazy half-light, like sepia on old film. It felt like a dream sequence, a surrealist painting. The only thing that made it horribly real was the weight of the leather collar around her throat and the cold tag resting against her skin.

After she finished cleaning herself up, her captor had led her back into the bedroom, sitting up against the headboard and pulling her into his lap. He wrapped his hand around her throat and gave Hannah her phone, whispering instructions into her ear in a low, amused voice. Hannah barely remembered the actual phone call. Jackie made horrified, sympathetic noises and wished her well on her flight.

When she hung up, the man told her she'd done well. He held her, resting his chin on her head, idly stroking his hands over her body. Some time along the way she began to shake, then to cry. In the moment, she couldn't have told anyone which specific thing made her cry - that he'd successfully used her to buy himself an alibi, that she'd cut off her only escape route, or that he was being so gentle with her. He held her as she sobbed, kissing her temples and stroking her hair, murmuring soothingly.

Hannah hated him.

For the rest of the day, she was granted a strange kind of reprieve. Though he was never farther from her than arms' reach, he allowed her to wander through his home, getting a feel for her surroundings. The plug never came out, and although she couldn't feel his come inside of her, it was a constant reminder that she was not here willingly, that he would use her body however he wanted, even when he wasn't actively raping her.

At dinner, he made her kneel beside the table and fed her by hand. If she wasn't so starving, after not having eaten anything all day, she would have tried to fight it. As it was, she felt herself settling into a kind of detachment, like she was observing what happened to her body without feeling it. The inside of her mind was noisy - half-formed escape plans and jibbering horror at her own compliance - but she pushed it aside. For now, there was nothing she could do but take it.

She slept in his bed. The cuffs didn't come off - Hannah was beginning to suspect they would be a fixture as permanent as the collar for as long as she endured this - and he clipped them together before binding them to the headboard, keeping her from escaping while he slept. He held her in his arms like a lover, and it wasn't long before his breathing went soft and even.

Hannah contemplated smothering him with a pillow, but she didn't know how long it would take before he was missed and she couldn't get enough leverage to lift herself up off the bed. So she lay there, staring at the ceiling, unable to hold a concrete thought in her head. In the silent dark she realized that she didn't even know his name.

It would be better if he was cruel, Hannah thought. Really cruel, like torture and beatings. It would be better if he didn't hold me when I cried or tell me it will be okay, that I'll get used to him. I don't want to get used to him.

A tiny, traitorous corner of her mind told her that it would be easier if she settled in and stopped fighting - easier to turn her brain off and easier to endure, both. Hannah clenched her teeth and glared at the ceiling, shoving that voice down ruthlessly.

At some point, she must have fallen asleep, because the next morning she woke to sunlight on her face. For a moment she forgot where she was, but the second she tried to cover her face against the sun she was brought up short by the cuffs, and everything came rushing back. Hannah rolled over as much as she could and buried her face in the pillow.

"Did you sleep well?" He didn't sound nearly as threatening and cold when his voice was thick with sleep, but Hannah still didn't answer him. He waited for her to answer for several moments, and sighed when all she did was remain perfectly still with her head in the pillow. "Usually you wouldn't get away with refusing to answer me when I ask you a question, but I haven't had coffee yet. You get a pass this time."

Hannah wanted to scream at him, but she had a feeling that shouting abuse at her captor would make things worse. She hunched her shoulders and drew her knees up, curling into a ball as best she could.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, and again Hannah didn't answer. The thought of food made her stomach growl, though, and he chuckled. "I figured you were. You're lucky. Sunday is the only day I bother making real breakfast. Otherwise it would be yogurt and granola."

He got up and left the bed. Hannah raised her head from the pillow, tracking his movements with her eyes. He shuffled into the bathroom, yawning and scratching at his ribs. It was terrifyingly domestic, if you ignored the cuffs around her wrists, the collar on her neck, and the plug still resting inside her.

He left the bedroom, and a few minutes later the house was filled with the smell of coffee. There was a sizzling noise - bacon, or maybe eggs - and the ticking of a toaster oven. Hannah shifted uncomfortably. Now that she was truly awake, she needed the bathroom, but like hell was she going to beg him to come in and untie her. It would serve him right if he forgot about her and she wet the bed, but she didn't want to lie in it.

Eventually he did return, a mug of coffee in one hand. He ignored her for a few moments, setting down his coffee and shrugging on a dressing robe. Hannah tried not to squirm, but she couldn't help it - he eyed her with a smirk, like he knew exactly what was going on. Finally, he let her hands loose from the headboard. "Go relieve yourself, I'm sure you need to. The plug stays in. Then come to the kitchen for breakfast."

He left the room, much to Hannah's surprise. He hadn't unclipped her cuffs from each other, so the bathroom was a slightly awkward affair. The window in the bathroom had decorative, wrought-iron bars affixed to the inside. No possibility of escape that way.

She crept out into the hallway, trying to keep her movements as silent as possible. The second bedroom was locked; Hannah suspected it was an office, as she had not been allowed inside during her explorations the afternoon before.

The living area was closed off from the hallway by a pair of french doors. Hannah tried to open them silently, but the door stuck and came loose with a loud thump and a creak. Hannah heard footsteps behind her and whirled around. "I wasn't-"

The cold anger in his face stilled her tongue in her mouth. He grabbed her by the hair and twisted, pain sparking across her scalp, and dragged her into the kitchen. He shoved her into the kitchen table, the edge of it striking her bare hipbones painfully, and forced her down onto its surface, bent at the waist. Hannah braced herself and didn't cry out as his palm cracked across her asscheek, screwing her eyes shut and biting her lip to contain the pained noises that wanted to escape her as the spanking continued.

Hannah counted fourteen strokes before he stopped, his hand resting on the red, tender skin of her ass.

"I don't believe 'living room' sounds anything like 'kitchen,'" he said mildly. Maybe that was the scariest thing - his calm even when he was obviously angry with her. "I wasn't going to make you earn your breakfast - I already told you I dislike discipline before coffee - but you ruined that for yourself."

Hannah remained silent, but her heart started to pound behind her ribs. Breakfast smelled and looked delicious. Now that she was bent over the table she could see two plates laid out with toasted bagels with cream cheese and eggs. A steaming mug of coffee sat beside the plate at the head of the table. Her stomach growled. Dinner last night was barely enough after skipping both breakfast and lunch. Hunger gnawed at her.

He pulled her up by her hair and yanked her around the table, nudging his chair with his foot until he could sit with one arm on the table. He twisted his hand in her hair and Hannah couldn't help but gasp - it hurt, and it forced her to her knees.

"Stay there," he said. "If you don't, you will regret it. I haven't even begun to get creative with your discipline yet."

Hannah swallowed and stayed still, but when he undid the belt of his bathrobe and pulled it aside, revealing that he was already hard in his boxers, she immediately said, "No."

"No?" he asked, sounding amused. "You must not be hungry." He pulled his cock out through the slit in his boxers, stroking it idly. "If you want to eat, you're going to have to suck me off first."

Hannah stared up at him in disbelief. He wouldn't starve her, would he? Intellectually she knew that it would take more than a couple skipped meals to really impact her health, but what if she kept refusing him until she was actually starving? Would he force-feed her, or would he let her waste away until she starved herself to death?

"Hannah," he said, frowning at her. "Don't make this hard on yourself. You can have a very good life with me, or I can break you and send you somewhere else. I'm being gentle. I can be cruel just as easily."

Cold prickled in Hannah's gut. She hadn't forgotten about his threat the day before, to sell her - the very thought was absurd and surreal, but Hannah wasn't that naive. She knew she was a prime candidate for sex trafficking, and if her captor said he could get ahold of a buyer, Hannah didn't doubt him.

Which meant she wasn't the first girl he'd done this to, and she didn't doubt him when he said he could break her, either. She dropped her eyes to the floor, her mouth twisting. She wouldn't make this easy on him.

"Suit yourself," he said. "I am going to eat before everything gets cold."

True to his word, Hannah started to hear the sounds of a fork clinking against a plate, chewing and noisy sips of coffee. It made her stomach growl again. Reluctantly, Hannah lifted her eyes back up to his cock.

He didn't seem concerned by her lack of compliance, not like the anger he'd shown when she tried to go into the living room. She wondered if there was something in there he didn't want her to find - a phone, or an unsecured window maybe. Then again, maybe it was just that she'd disobeyed him. So far he seemed like the type that expected to be obeyed.

Hannah firmly believed that he would leave her here like this, on her knees and hungry, until she gave in. Was it worth fighting him over this? She was hungry, and cold eggs weren't entirely appetizing. She doubted he'd be willing to warm them back up for her if she took too long to do what he wanted.

Slowly, reluctantly, she inched forward on her knees until his cock was inches from her face. He ignored her, continuing to eat his breakfast, and bizarrely that made Hannah even angrier. If she was going to debase herself like this, the least he could do was pay attention to her while she did it.

It took her almost a full minute to gather her courage and push the disgust into the farthest corner of her mind. She could do this. After all, she needed to keep her strength up or she wouldn't be able to escape when he gave her the opportunity. She leaned in and licked the head of his cock.

Immediately, his hand settled on the back of her head. "No teeth," he said sternly. "Otherwise we'll find out how much you like getting your ass fucked dry."

The threat made her shiver. Hannah licked long stripes up the length of his dick, getting it wet and delaying the inevitable. Finally, when she thought he must be getting impatient, she opened her mouth and took him in, rolling her tongue over the head.

His fingers tightened in her hair and she froze with her mouth full of cock, not daring to move. "It took you too long to do what you were told," he said. "When I give an order, you don't sit there thinking about whether or not you're going to follow it. Take more."

Hannah's shoulders tensed and she glared at the bare stomach in front of her, but she opened wider and obediently took more into her mouth. The head of his cock bumped against the back of her tongue and she swallowed to keep from gagging.

"Disobedient sluts don't deserve to suck cock," he said. "Stay there, just like that, and keep my cock warm while I finish eating. Then we'll see if you can follow orders without thinking it over first. If you're good, you can have breakfast."

Her fists clenched, but she kept her jaw slack and her lips wrapped around her teeth. Her captor was back to ignoring her, steadily working his way through breakfast. She felt like a piece of furniture, or a toy, sitting there with her mouth stretched wide around his cock, saliva pooling behind her lips. Hannah closed her eyes and concentrated on keeping her breathing steady and her mouth open.

With her eyes closed, staying still like this, her other senses were heightened. He was hard on her tongue, the skin soft and faintly salty. He smelled of musk and soap, and very faintly of sweat - a clean, masculine smell.

He shifted forward to lift his mug and the head of his cock bumped against her soft palate. Her throat fluttered, swallowing convulsively, and his hand fell back to her hair, clenching in the strands. Hannah looked up at him to find a disapproving frown on his features and choked back a distressed noise that wanted to climb out of her throat.

Hannah took a deep breath through her nose and relaxed her jaw further, letting her eyes slip closed again and forcing the tension out of her shoulders. She thought she knew what he wanted now. He wanted Hannah to do exactly what he'd said - warm his cock while he ate. He didn't want to be reminded of her presence and didn't want her to distract him. She could do this.

Hannah's mind began to drift. She tried to think about other things, to distract herself from what was happening. More saliva pooled in her mouth, but she didn't swallow it or tighten her lips. Some of the drool escaped and dripped down his shaft. She didn't open her eyes. It was completely humiliating, worse than sucking cock, because at least then she had some control over what was happening.

Her jaw ached by the time his hand fell to her head again. "I bet you could take it all, couldn't you?" he asked, stroking her hair. "Let's see how well you swallow, Hannah."

Hannah's eyes flicked up to him for just a second, long enough to see the predatory smirk twisting his lips. She had half his cock in her mouth already. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose, relaxing her throat. If he wanted her to deepthroat him, she had a feeling she knew what was coming next.

He waited until she had taken the whole thing, her lips wrapped around the base, barely able to breathe and swallowing around the shaft. Then he rolled his hips, thrusting his cock down her throat. Hannah gagged, making a tiny sound of protest, but she didn't move to pull away and she kept her mouth open wide. Tears gathered in her eyes, and rage coiled in her chest. She knew how she must look, helpless at his feet, and she hated it.

"Good girl," he breathed, and thrust again. He kept his movements slow, almost gentle - not so much fucking her face as grinding his dick down her throat. Hannah's fingernails dug into her palms, but she held on, fluttering her tongue against the base of his cock and trying to swallow instead of choke. "You're doing so well. Such a pretty slut. Keep that throat open on my dick. I knew your mouth would feel good."

Tears slipped down her cheeks, and despite the prickle of humiliation across her skin, Hannah felt heat pooling between her legs. She was getting wet as he fucked her throat, praise falling from his lips - and God help her, right now she wanted to be praised. She could do without him ever touching her again, but something in the way he let out a long, guttural moan and said, "Good slut," made her shiver, and her cunt spasmed around the plug still inside it.

He stopped talking as his thrusts sped up, his breathing ragged. Hannah could tell he was going to come soon, and held onto that thought when the head of his cock jammed into the back of her throat and she choked, struggling to keep her lips around her teeth as she coughed and spit streamed from her mouth. The thought of him coming down her throat made her want to retch, but she tried to focus on how hungry she was instead.

She needn't have worried. Hannah felt his cock twitch, the big vein on the underside pulsed against her tongue, and then he pulled her off his cock by the hair and sticky wet stripes of come landed on her cheeks and in her mouth. She managed to get her eyes closed, but didn't dare close her mouth until he smeared the last of his come on her bottom lip with the head of his cock.

"You're learning," he said, smugly satisfied. He gently wiped away some of the come that had landed near her eye with this thumb, then pushed it into her mouth. "Swallow," he said, and Hannah did. "Good girl."

She opened her eyes, tears on her lashes, come clinging to her skin, and glared at him.

"None of that," he said. "Remember, you did this because you wanted something. I didn't make you."

Hannah wanted to scream. He hadn't pried her mouth open and forced it down around his dick, but he absolutely had made her do it. Instead, she tried to let the rage bleed out of her expression, widening her eyes and letting her lips part.

"That's better," he said, and pulled the plate over from the other place. He picked up her bagel and tore it into pieces, feeding them to her one by one until it was gone. Then he scooped up the eggs and fed those to her as well. By the time she was done, his come was drying on her face, tacky and itchy. He got up and took the plate to the sink, washing it off while Hannah stayed put on her knees.

He came back with a glass of water and opened his hand. In it were two pills - one she could tell was her birth control, and the other she recognized from a mishap a few years ago - Plan B. Apparently he'd remembered that she didn't take her pill yesterday, even when Hannah forgot. She didn't look at him as she reached out and took the pills and the glass, but she didn't fight him on it either. The last thing she wanted was to get knocked up with this monster's child.

"Up," he said, and Hannah struggled to her feet. She'd been kneeling so long that her legs were stiff, and she almost fell back down. He caught her by the elbows and turned her, pushing her down onto the table again.

Hannah stiffened, tensing as he palmed her ass and spread her open, then wrapped his fingers around the plug in her pussy. He drew it out slowly, making a disgusting squelching noise as it came out of her. Once she was empty, he coaxed her back up off the table and turned her to face him again, brushing her hair behind her ear.

"We're going to have company today, and as much as I like seeing you like this, I do want you presentable," he said. "We're going to go shower. You smell like come and day-old hangover anyway."

Hannah turned red in humiliation and felt more tears prick at her eyes. Company? He was going to parade her around in front of someone else? Was he going to make her fuck his 'company?' She remembered what he'd said the day before, that he would share her when he pleased, and shook her head mutely.

"Hannah, you look terrified," he said, but there was no sympathy in his voice, only amusement. "I will not let anyone damage you, never fear."

"Please don't," she whispered, and then cringed, expecting a blow for speaking out of turn.

It didn't come. Instead, he hooked his fingers underneath her collar and pulled her out of the kitchen, down the hallway into the bedroom. "I didn't think I would have to reiterate this point, but you don't have any choice in the matter," he said. "Be a good girl and behave yourself. You won't like what happens if you embarrass me in front of my guest."