Association

The theory was alluring, but sleep doesn't come easy in relentless confinement. My body was restless and itchy. I tensed my muscles, first all at once, then each separately, starting with my toes and ending with my jaw. Nothing helped. Nothing moved. I became so hot, I felt like I was jammed in an oven like a foil-covered chicken. The stupid image reminded me I was hungry, too. Not to mention thirsty. I was so fed up with these gags that kept filling my mouth.

And there was the other tension, which the lack of distraction forced me to address. The powerful orgasm that had shaken me while he was pulling off the clothespins was long forgotten. I needed another one, many other ones. And this unquenchable thirst for sexual relief was dumbfounding. It had made the pain and discomfort more bearable, but it multiplied my mental confusion by ten. I was reluctant to derive any pleasure, albeit involuntary, from my own imprisonment. And I hated to admit that, although I would have given anything to see Geoffrey burn in hell, I also wanted him to come back. And touch me. Finally, I detested the realization that I was becoming obsessed with one question: why the hell didn't he fuck me?

I fell into a light agitated sleep and dreamed X-rated visions all night.

***

DAY 7--SABRINA

In the morning, I neither heard nor saw Geoffrey come downstairs. But when I felt a hand touch my head, I woke up instantly. I was wet and sticky, and a dull pain emanated from all my body parts. An awful stench came through my nostrils, and I realized I had been unable to control my bladder during the night. What a nice way to wake up.

He began to unwrap the tape, starting with my head, and unpeeled the rubber hood. The fresh air on my face felt wonderful. He took the earplugs out so I could hear his cheerful "good morning, Sabrina." However, he didn't touch the gag, and continued unwrapping me in silence. Just as well. I needed time to recover. I kept my eyes closed to avoid the bright light from the ceiling and the darker light in his eyes. After what he'd done to me, I found it increasingly difficult to sustain a stare. My state of constant arousal didn't help, either. I couldn't hide some of the physical symptoms, but I would rather die then admit my need to him. And I mentally erased the perverted imaginings caused by a night in bondage.

When Geoffrey pulled away the last piece of tape holding my heels together, he helped me up and held my shoulders until I regained my balance.

"Can you stand?"

I nodded, averting his eyes. He hadn't made any comment about the unfortunate urine leak, but I knew he could always react later, when I least expected it.

Moving behind me, he ordered me to put my hands behind my back, so he could lock the leather mittens together. Then he knelt down and removed the manacles holding the iron balls.

"First thing you need is some soap," he said as he gestured to the stairs.

The shower was unlikely to be a moment of private comfort, but at least it was a better start to the morning than what I had dreaded. I preceded him up the stairs, hoping he would remember to pull out the awful plug that worked itself deeper inside my ass with every step.

--GEOFFREY--

Once in the bathroom, I took off Sabrina's ballet boots and bondage mittens, only to replace them with the iron collar and its manacle extensions. I whisked my prisoner efficiently through her morning ablutions--enema, shower, shaving--as if she were an animal being prepared for market. When I was satisfied with her cleanliness, I took off the collar, returned the leather gear to her hands and feet, and added a ring gag that forced her mouth to remain open in a perfect "O."

"Hands behind your back."

Click.

"Kitchen."

She wobbled unsteadily on her heels as we slowly made our way downstairs and through the living and dining rooms, but I was in no hurry. I sensed a definite change in her demeanor, but I couldn't really tell if she was simply accommodating me to keep me off my guard in hopes of mounting another escape attempt, or if she was starting to drift into new territories where desires overwhelm common sense.

I would bet on the former, because at worst, it helped hasten the latter.

Once in the kitchen, I directed her to kneel down and bend forward until her head was practically touching the ground.

"Stick out your tongue."

When she hesitated, I smacked her hard on her upturned ass, leaving bright red marks where my palm and fingers made contact.

"Press it against the floor, and leave it there until I tell you otherwise."

I turned away and busied himself at the stove. A few moments later, I stuck a steaming bowl of oatmeal laced with baby food near her face.

"Eat it. All. And lick the bowl perfectly clean. Or else you won't eat again today."

Smells from my omelet and coffee filled the kitchen as she lapped her gruel. When she had finished as instructed, I pushed a plastic bowl filled with water at her bowed head.

"Drink."

When Sabrina had licked every available drop, I grabbed her hair and pulled her upright, then began unbuckling my trousers in front of her face.

"And now, your dessert. Do a good job, and I'll give you another drink."

I guided my cock into the metal circle in her mouth, and didn't withdraw until it was completely limp again. Without a word, I picked up the water bowl and filled it at the sink. Sounds of her greedy lapping soon meshed with my dishwashing.

After the kitchen was cleaned, I helped her to her feet, only to push her down into one of the wooden chairs around the breakfast table. I pulled off his belt and wrapped it around her waist and the back of the chair, pinning her still-bound wrists behind her.

"Don't go away."

But I was only gone a moment, just long enough to get some rope and a few other supplies. I pulled her feet apart and tied them to the legs of the chair, leaving her pussy open wide. I repeated the process with her thighs, then took off the belt and unlocked her wrists so I could lash the mittens to the arms of the chair. Her waist and breasts were likewise encumbered with cord.

I unbuckled the ring gag and pulled it out, but her mouth's freedom was short-lived. The harness was a complicated affair, with leather straps running around her head, under her chin and across her face, all to hold a thick metal bit coated with rubber between her teeth. The harness also featured large flaps of leather on either side of her head next to her eyes.

"Must keep your attention focused," I noted as I adjusted the blinders to eliminate her peripheral vision.

Satisfied with my handiwork, I grabbed a fistful of her hair and wrapped a piece of rope around it, then tied it to a beam running across the ceiling. Gotta love that rustic design, I thought as I stood on a chair to knot it.

"Don't want you to hurt yourself by accidentally tipping over," I told her as I stepped down.

For the grand finale, I unveiled a black box with several wires running out of it, as well as an electrical plug, which I inserted into a wall socket. I positioned two of the wires underneath her crotch and taped them to the bottom of the chair. I ran the other two wires up to her tits and wrapped their ends around her nipples. With a grin, I twisted a knob on the black box.

"That's running a nice low-voltage stream of electrical current right now. Problem is, it needs to make a complete connection, and these two wires down here aren't quite touching."

I pointed to her crotch and smiled.

"As I'm sure you're aware, one of the best conductors of electricity is water."

The look on her face told I didn't need to explain her predicament further.

"But I've always been curious about something; when a girl gets, how shall we say, excited, does the lubrication she produces have the same conductive effect on electricity, as, say, pee?"

I placed the black box on the edge of the chair's seat between her thighs and taped it down, then turned the chair so she was facing a small television set on the kitchen counter.

"I'd hate to have you get bored while you ponder this scientific dilemma, so I've arranged a little entertainment for you."

I reached over and pressed "play." A few seconds later, an image of me strapping her to the cross in the basement burst onto the screen.

"I thought you might like a preview of your debut."

As muffled moans from both her mouth and the video harmonized, I turned off the lights and pulled down the shades, plunging the room into near-complete darkness.

"See you in a few."

The door slammed shut like a cannon behind me.

--SABRINA--

I closed my eyes to avoid watching my own crucifixion, but the mental movie playing behind my eyelids was just as unbearable. I couldn't get rid of the humiliation Geoffrey had imprinted on my body and soul. Nor could I decide which part had been worse: the bowl lapping, or the cock sucking. And to think I had always refused to swallow, even when the man in front of me was someone I cared for.

And now, this. If his theory proved right, I would soon experience a new aspect of electricity. Actually, I was already so aroused, it was a wonder the circuit under my crotch wasn't connected yet.

When the moaning sounds coming from the video became too distracting, I glanced at the screen and saw myself wiggling and squirming while Geoffrey affixed the clothespins on my breasts. The memory of the pain was still so vivid, my nipples hardened without further stimulation. I shivered. The inner folds of my sex contracted, squeezing out its juice. I closed my eyes again, just in time for contact. In the nanosecond before the sizzling stream of current hit my breasts and crotch, I wondered, rather incongruously, how long it would take for me to come.

Not long. The electrical waves seemed to make a loop inside my body, entering through my nipples, leaving through my vagina. Or was it the other way around? The direction truly didn't matter, especially when sweat began to glide down every inch of my skin, conducting the current to other sensitive places.

Forgetting the rope holding my hair up, I tried to roll down the chair in an attempt to dislodge the electrical plug from its socket, but I rolled back when I felt the sudden tug threatening to scalp me. But I was approaching a state of mind where losing some hair was the unfortunate consequence of saving my life. Shaking uncontrollably and not really caring where the shaking came from--pain, pleasure, madness, or all three--I rocked the chair in all directions, paying little attention to the pain in my skull. I just had to make it stop.

Time was no longer measured in minutes but orgasms. How many would it take before--

The current stopped. After a couple of final convulsions, my body relaxed. Keeping my eyes closed, not even caring to check whether I had actually pulled out the plug or the divine had intervened, I collapsed in the chair, feeling the heat glow from my bruised body like embers on a forsaken battlefield.

Well, not completely forsaken, I thought with exasperation when I heard Geoffrey's footsteps on the kitchen tiles. How long had he been there? Wasn't he going to give me a break? Though I heard him walk closer, I didn't bother to look up. I was certainly not going to offer him the additional satisfaction of reading fear or distress in my eyes. In fact, if it hadn't been for the monstrous gag, I would have yawned. Just a little treat to prove to myself that I was not completely defeated yet. I had to admit my flesh was yielding, but it would take a lot more than a little electricity to overcome my spirits. How much more was, however, the question I was too afraid to ask.

--GEOFFREY--

"Very good, Sabrina," I said as I stuck my hand under her still- trembling pussy. "I was afraid you'd have to spend the rest of the day in that chair to learn about controlling your bladder. But since you've done so well, we can move on to more constructive uses of our limited time."

I switched off the black box and removed the wires from her nipples and crotch, then unknotted her hair from the ceiling.

"And as a special reward..."

I unbuckled the harness from her head and pulled the bit out of her mouth.

"Lunch is served."

After feeding her, I removed the ropes holding her to the chair, and replaced the mittens and boots with a simple pair of handcuffs.

"Looks like you could use another shower," I said as I led her upstairs.

"Or perhaps you would prefer a bath?"

Silence.

"That was a question, Sabrina."

"Yes, please," she whispered in a tiny voice.

After washing her hair, I let her soak in various oils and lotions for almost an hour while I finished my preparations.

"Time's up," he said when I returned. "Mustn't let you get too wrinkled."

I toweled her dry, brushed her hair and pointed her down the two flights of stairs to the studio where I had erected a simple white backdrop on the stage. The steel scaffolding was decked out with a variety of spots and scrims to light the center from all angles. To the left was a movable clothes rack packed with leather apparel that gleamed darkly like a diamond in reverse. To the right was one of the larger boxes, the lid open to reveal more of the same.

"Even though the council thinks you've run off to comfort a friend in some far-off city, we still have work to do."

I pointed toward the stage and motioned her up.

"That's it...now, look up. Christ, you're going to need some war paint."

I hopped up with a small makeup kit and deftly applied foundation, eyeliner, blush and lipstick.

"That will do. Nobody's really going to be looking at your face anyway. Now, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. The easy way means you help me get the clothes on and off. The hard way means I do everything myself. If we do it the hard way..."

I picked up a butt plug big enough to frighten an elephant and waved it at her.

"Do you want to do it the easy way?"

"Yes...please," she added hurriedly.

"Excellent. Now, don't fuck with me, Sabrina, or all bets are off. Let's see, what to start with? This looks good."

I reached into the rack and pulled out a long leather tube with laces running down the middle of its center.

"A hobble skirt, they call it. Now, for shoes, you should probably wear something with closed toes. And maybe a halter top. Definitely a matching arm binder."

For the rest of the afternoon, I dressed and undressed her in a variety of corsets, bodysuits, bodices, bustiers and boots, then added bondage accessories like cuffs and gags. I wanted to make the most of the opportunity while she was still co-operative, so we tried some fairly awkward positions, including a "flying hogtie," and another session on the cross. There's nothing like effective advertising to increase a consumer's willingness to pay a premium price. Heck, I was even tempted to place a bid of my own.

When the rack of clothes was empty, I put down my camera and gave her a smile.

"Now, wasn't that easier than fighting me all day long?"

"Yes...please," she said with a hint of a sneer.

"By your tone of voice, I'm going to presume you really want to say something besides 'yes, please.' Quite understandable, actually."

I walked behind her and admired her naked ass framed by the sides and straps of the backless leather skirt she had been modeling. Time to get remedial, I thought to himself. A quick lesson before dinner.

First came the return of the ballet boots, then the mittens padlocked behind her back, plus a set of cuffs for her elbows.

"Open your mouth."

The trainer was dominated by a studded black faceplate, but I particularly liked the thick plastic penis on the other side.

"Spread your legs."

I removed the dress and began lubricating the butt plug between her legs, then took my sweet time inserting it one inch at a time.

When nothing remained visible but its base, I found my favorite crop and began painting her body at random with welts, paying closest attention to her trim bottom, her heaving chest and especially her moist pussy when she tried to escape the blows.

Satisfied that she comprehended the lesson, I walked in front of her and applied a pair of tweezer clamps to her nipples and a third to her pussy, all connected by a long chain that I used as a leash to lead her back upstairs.

I took her to the dining room and instructed her to sit on a chair to which I cuffed her ankles, then left her to prepare our supper.

But first, I needed to do a little work on the computer.

--SABRINA--

Once again, my body hurt like hell. Despite the cruel lashes from the crop, my sex was throbbing with unfulfilled desire. Or maybe because of them. Although I couldn't explain it, the combination had ceased to surprise me. I was drifting dangerously to a place where sex was the engine, with pain and pleasure acting as fuel. It was a brainwashing drug, and I was being forced into addiction.

I made a conscious effort to regain a sense of reality. Far back in my befuddled mind, there was something Geoffrey had let slip right before the modeling session. What had he said? "Run off to comfort a friend in some far-off city." Yes, those were his exact words. They meant that his line about the association abandoning me had been a lie, and he had simply, well, kidnapped me! Appalled to discover his treachery, I was also relieved. At least I hadn't lost my job, and I only had one enemy to fight. If only I could call someone.

I knew there was a phone in the living room, but it would take me too long to get there with my ankles cuffed to the chair. Besides, the noise would get his attention, and he'd be back in no time. Not to mention the fact that I would never be able to make a call with my hands imprisoned in leather mittens padlocked behind my back. I would have to wait for a better opportunity. Given how meticulous he was, it could take days. Or weeks.

Squirming on the chair to accommodate the hideous plug, I tried to understand the hidden reason behind Geoffrey's behavior. I supposed he worked for a pornographic ring, selling pictures at high prices, but I couldn't believe this was the only reason why he would keep a woman here against her will. His pleasure? To satisfy his sadistic instincts? But surely he could find someone who enjoyed those games. I knew there were such people.

I was still nowhere in my mental wanderings when I heard him walk, no, run down the stairs. And whistling, too! Too bad I couldn't ask why he was in such a good mood.

He glanced sideways to check, quite unnecessarily, whether I had moved, and then he went into the kitchen. I heard him move about and wondered what he was preparing for dinner. Then I realized something was wrong with me. I was naked, tied up to a chair, gagged, my anus indecently filled, and I was waiting for dinner to be fed to me, as if this were a normal way of life. I desperately needed to get out of this place.

Geoffrey reappeared with two plates which he left on the table before going back for a bottle of wine and two glasses.

"A small reward for a job well done," he said as he filled both glasses.

He removed the gag and let me sip the wine. My thoughts of escape were forgotten as I swallowed the precious liquid, already feeling its warm flow through my veins. The simplest pleasures--drinking wine, taking a bath--had gained an uncommon intensity. When he moved the glass away from my lips, a very natural "thank you" came out. I perceived the slow rising movement in his chest, made my case worse with awkward apologies and, totally lost, looked up to confront his stare. He kept his eyes on mine for an instant, as if he was trying to find malice or sneer. But I knew all there was to see was the fear of yet another punishment.

"I'll pass on this one, Sabrina, but watch out. I won't be so amenable next time," he warned.