Bound For Life

Maria gains consciousness to darkness.

Something is not right. Her eyes are open but she cannot see anything. Faint yellow light filters through the fabric that covers her eyes. Even more disturbing, are her hands, bound above her head with large restraints. She feels the surface of wood on the back of her hands. She struggles against them but it only raises the panic that builds in her chest.

The last thing she remembers is getting home from work and finding a glass of wine and a note saying 'For my love'. She assumed it was from her husband but maybe...

"Listen to me carefully..." Maria turns cold as she hears the voice just behind her. It raises the hair on her back to hear the harsh, metallic tone so close to her, breathing and sniffing. The voice isn't natural but altered in some way. "There are two ways this can end." The cold surface of a blade caresses her neck. Fear prevents her from breathing. "One, you do everything I say to my liking, unconditionally. No screaming, no protests and you get to go home at the end of this. Or this could go a very different way." The blade's edge press into the nape of her neck, piercing the skin even if only slightly. She nods her head. "I must hear you say it." No words find her. "Say it." He presses deeper.

"I will do it." Maria replies quickly.

"Do what?" The captor asks.

"Everything you say."

"Without question?"

"Yes."

The pressure of the knife disappears, replaced with a burning smell of alcohol. He cleans the area and applies tape over the wound, which confuses Maria. What man would torture her and then care for her.

"Who are you?" She asks, curious.

"Already breaking rules." Maria waits for a response. The captor regards the question before answering.

"Out there, in the real world, I am no one, an ordinary man." Maria hears the shame in his voice. He pauses for a minute as if for effect. "But tonight, I am your god and your devil." The vulnerability that present for a moment disappears and the cold man returns. He grabs a fistful of hair and pulls it back, extending her neck. The knife is back on her throat. "No more questions from now on."

Maria understands the man is volatile but she cannot help ask this final question before submitting to his will. "Just one more." She waits for her captor's consent.

"Go on." He says, his lips almost touching her cheeks.

"Is my family alright? You didn't do anything to my daughter?" Maria needs this one piece of comfort.

"Your daughter is unharmed." He says.

"And my husband?" He deliberately delays his response.

"That depends on your performance tonight. Satisfy me and you might see your husband sooner than you think." Maria does not like the uncertainty but all she can do is comply with her captor's orders and hope he keeps up his word of returning her to her family.

The man sniffs her scent, sweet rich perfume mixed in with the fear and desperation. He knows he has control over her. That she will do as he says.

He gazes down at her; the satin blouse with a low V-neck and tight skirt that hugs her wonderfully toned curves. He watched her every day, at her home, at work; stalking her as she teased other men. She is no tease anymore. He has total control over her and that power itself turns him on.

He traces the blade down her neck, into that deep V as she breathes in and out; an exercise to calm herself. Carefully, he pops the buttons of her blouse out, making her gasp every time. When he has reached the final one, he uses the edge of the blade to reveal her. He steps back and admires her curves, a body sculpted from hard work. At her age, after a baby she has worked hard to keep in shape.

He picks up the pair of scissors that he has assorted with other things tonight. He cuts her blouse and skirt methodically, without touching her skin. She stands there only in her pink lingerie and heels, almost hanging from the restraints. Her tits are mature, of a mother's, well proportionate and fit for a woman her age. She remains uncomfortably, balancing her weight from one foot to another. He circles her, watching the taut muscles on her thighs and legs work to keep her upright in heels. Her Lingerie is too fancy for work. He knows who she wants to impress and it isn't her husband.

He returns with the knife and uses the flat of it to caress her body.

"Tell me. Do you love your husband?" He asks her.

"What has that to do with anything?" He applies a little pressure with his knife for her to respond. "Yes, of course I love him." She says quickly. The knife slips in between the straps of her bra and in one fluid motion, splits them in two. She stifles a scream as her tits hang free. He cuts her bra off completely. There are better ways to confine them, the captor thinks.

The man is gone again. Maria's cheeks flush from embarrassment. She has an idea about how this will play out but with the short pauses and subtle nature of her captor's actions, she has grown uncomfortably vulnerable with time passing. He isn't going to end this quickly and the dread heightens her senses.

He is close again; she could feel him watching her intently. The knife is back but it is warm now, heated under a fire. He caresses the flesh around her breasts. Sometimes he uses the back of the blade or the flat of it and occasionally he uses the tip to inflict pain. He moves closer to her nipples with every circle. Strange sensations coarse through her body with every passing second. The caress followed by the pain mixed in with heat of the knife makes her feel something that she doesn't want to. Her nipples are firm in response. He reaches the summit of her aroused nipple and kneads into it.

"Tell me about Motel 69." Maria takes in a wisp of air.

"What?" This surprises her. How does he know about that she wonders? How long has this man been watching her? "I don't know what..."

"Do not think you can lie to me!" He warns her.

She decides to tell him what he already knows.

"It's where I stay when I don't want to come home from work."

"Were you alone?" He asks.

"No." She answers. Admitting this to another man is difficult but relieving to say out aloud, even if it is to a stranger and a psychopath. No one knows about her affair. It was only a few times but she was not proud of it either. "He is a man from my office, Gary. We work on projects together and it just happened one night."

"There were others, weren't there?" He questions her further.

"No! It was only Gary." She answers back.

"With this body, I bet you liked fucking them. Liked how they chased after your pussy."

"No!" She answers adamantly. "It was only Gary." She doesn't know why she is defending herself to this man. He is just toying with her emotions, her guilt.

The pressure of the knife disappears. "I will ask you again then. Do you love your husband?" These words sting her more than any knife could.

"Yes." She answers but with lesser resolute.

"Don't lie to me. I saw how you were with Gary. I bet your husband doesn't fuck you like he does; a pathetic man, who doesn't know how to please his own wife."

"No, you are wrong. Paul is a loving father and husband. He loves me and I love him." She states, more firmly than before.

"Yet, you cheated on him."

"It wasn't because of him. I was... the one who..." She can't put her thoughts into words as tears gather to spill out.

"You wanted more than a love life with your husband, you wanted to be fucked by someone else. It was the only way you could get off. Even now, you are turned on by a stranger with a knife, aren't you?" She keeps silent, her head hanging.

"If I bring your husband in here..." Something is different in his voice. "And I drive this knife into him..." Something is wrong. His calm nature appears to be slipping away. "Would you regret not telling him or would you lie to him again?"

"No!" Maria struggles, kicking and screaming. "Don't do anything to him! I swear I will kill you..."

She loses the bit of self-control she built to get through this. He has brought her to the edge and watched as she crumbled before him. Tears run down from her blinded eyes. She curses her captor and drains every bit of her energy.

All the time, he just watches her from a distance as she breaks down completely. All goes according to his plans. He waits for her to wear herself out.

She does eventually.

"I believe you love your husband and for being truthful he shall remain unharmed." She is exhausted but relieved. That one promise calms her. The strain on her shoulders has become intense and she sweats from it. She looks up in the direction she thinks her captor is watching her from.

"May I have some water to drink?" She asks him. There is no answer.

"Open your mouth." He commands. She does so and cold drips of water trickle into her mouth. It doesn't quench her thirst but soothes it.

"Your lips are dry." He says, placing an ice cube on them. He traces it to her edges and then back again. They partly open as she licks the water off her lips. A strong urge to taste her overcomes him but he reigns in his urges.

He used the ice to cool her body, her neck, her arm, and then her breasts.

"You like this, don't you?" He asked, circling her pink areola. Her mouth partly open, she breathes quickly. He asks again more forcibly.

"Yes!" She answers.

He smiles and moves on to the other breast. When he thinks both are numb enough, he brings in his special toy. "This will hurt." He announces and uses the nipple clamps on her. She winces in pain, for each nipple. They link together by chain. He slides his finger down on them and enjoys the pain she suffers from.

"Do you like this?" He asks.

"You are a sick man." She tells him. He plays with the chain, giving pressure on opposite directions.

"I am sick and so are you for enjoying this." He releases the chain and returns with an ice cube. He places it on her panties and waits for the cold to sink in. She tries to wiggle away from it but he maintains contact until her garment is soaked. He slides it up and down until the ice cube melts away.

Maria feels a number of emotions and sensations coarse through her; the fear, anger, confusion, the vulnerability, the humiliation mixed with the pain that she struggles to keep her sanity. And in spite of all this, she fears a tiny part of her actually takes pleasure from it and that she doesn't want to accept.

He returns and for the first time, she feels the man's touch. Throughout the night, he had used various objects to tease and torture her but never laid a finger on her but now, with an ice cube nestled in his palm, he slides his fingers into her panties. She senses little from the numbness of the ice but still feels the cube slip into the opening of her vagina. As he withdraws, his hand brushes her most sensitive part. She sighs from the touch.

The ice holds in place by her vagina and underwear as the chill spreads to her legs.

"Split your legs as wide as you can." He commands. She complies hoping it will reduce the discomfort. He places something in between her legs; crackling and emitting heat from below. "Don't move."

The heat is comforting, bringing life back into her legs. The ice melts, bringing with it a rush of blood into her pussy. An unspeakable urge to touch herself engulfs her and she moans from it.

Her captor repeats the task and every time she becomes more aroused than before. It drives her mad.

"Do you want me to relieve that for you?" She is an inch away from pleading. "No? That is fine. Soon you will beg me to." He places one more ice cube and removes her nipple clamps. The relief is unbearable but he doesn't stop there.

His tongue finds her erect nipple and with one long lick, sends her astray. He draws circles around them, nibbles the flesh and takes the tip in between his teeth. She moves her hips, her whole body towards him unconsciously.

"Please..." She pleads. He continues until she is able to bear no more.

"Please what? Please you. Not until you ask me properly." She doesn't.

He watches her reactions and decides to move on to the next part of his plan.

He removes the box of coal between her legs. By now, even her panties are dry. He rips it in one forceful motion. Her pussy drips water mixed in with her inner fluids. He finds the two specially made long leather thigh straps for her. He secures them properly around her thighs and tests them. The vibrators attached to the straps on the inner side buzz to life.

They are close to her pussy lips but far from where she wants it to be. The vibrations reach her clitoris but they are not nearly strong enough. She clasps her legs together in an attempt to do so but her restraints doesn't allow it. She can't hold on any longer.

"Please, help me!" She asks him.

"With what?"

"Make me cum." She felt relief just saying those words aloud.

These words are enough for her captor.

He grabs her waist fiercely, slides his penis beneath her pussy lips, and turns on the vibrator. His shaft is hard as stone and transmits the vibrations perfectly to her clitoris.

"You have to do the work here. I am only here to help." He doesn't move or try to enter her. His face is close to her that she feels his breath on her.

She rocks back and forth, rhythm increasing every time. Her clit rubs along his thick rod dripping her juices on it. She wants him inside her but this is just another way for him to torture her. It doesn't matter, nothing matters except the want of relief.

She is close; breathing heavily and about to cum when he stops the vibrator and withdraws.

"You expect to cum before me. How rude of you?" Still a little buzzed, she can't think straight.

"Please, you said if I asked..."

"In due time. Not yet though." Suddenly her hands release and she drops to the floor. Quickly he chains her hand and thigh straps together.

Maria just lies there, frustrated and at the same time relieved with the return of blood to her arms.

"On your feet." He commands. With bound thighs and arms, she can only get on all fours. Apparently, that is what he wants.

He grabs her hair and yanks backwards. She feels the head of his cock rub against her cheek. She knows what he wants and before he asks, she takes him in her mouth.

He grunts as he moves, choking out her breath. Her consciousness weans in and out, as he fucks her mouth with tremendous speed. She feels the throb deep within her throat as he withdraws suddenly and hot liquid hits her face multiple times. Once he is completely empty, he strokes her hair like patting a dog, or in her case a bitch she thought.

"For being a good girl, I am going to let you see your husband." She doesn't expect this.

"No!" She protests. "Not like this. Please no."

He removes the blinds off her face. Bright light blinds her vision until they accustom to it. She sees wooden walls, plain as new and a table with tools and odd items arranged on top. Before her, the naked man stands, his penis still throbbing from his orgasm. A black leather hood cover his face, except for his mouth. He pulls the mask over his head.

Maria cannot believe her own eyes. It is her husband; Paul who looms over her. She is drugged, she believes because her sweet husband isn't capable of doing these things. What shocks her more is the cheerful, remorseless smile he has on his face. It isn't him but a man who looks like her husband; she convinces herself.

"I know you think I am not capable of this." His voice, which was modulated, comes in clear, sharp quality of her husband. "But you don't know what desperate men are capable of."

"Desperate?" She asks. "How have I made you desperate Paul? You have everything, a home, a daughter..."

"And a wife who cheats, comes home and lies about it. Do you know how that feels?" His interruption fills with anger and hurt. Maria dare not meet her husband's accusing eyes because she knows he speaks the truth. She has been lying to him for months. "The worse part of it was realizing that you didn't satisfy your wife enough, that she sought it from another man."

"I never wanted you to feel that. All this is my fault. You did nothing wrong." She says trying to soothe her husband. However, the madness in his eyes only amasses.

"Don't patronize me. I did do nothing. I just sat there and watched while I slowly lost my wife."

"No, you haven't. I still..."

"You still love me, I know but that isn't enough right?" She has no answer to that.

They both calm down with nothing to say.

"How long have you known?" She asks finally.

"Does it really matter?" She asks again wanting an answer. "Three months." She can't believe it. She never even realised or maybe she didn't want to.

"You didn't say anything. Why?" She asks.

"To what end? Confront you, to fight, to break up, put our daughter through family counselling or a divorce. What do you think would have happened?"

"So, you came up with this, kidnapping and torturing your own wife?" She can't understand the reasons behind his actions.

"Drastic times call for drastic measures." The chill in his voice returns as he leaves her in the room, alone and bound.

Now, that she studies the place, she recognizes their summer cabin. He has modified the bedroom into a makeshift torture chamber. On the table, she notices a book leaning against the wall. The title read, 'Bound for life'. It is an old leather bound book. Is this where he found these ideas? She wonders. He has disappeared a lot the past few weeks and she thought it was for his work but now she knows why.

He returns, fully cleaned and clothed in the black suit that she got him for his birthday a year ago. He places a briefcase on the table and brings a glass of water to her. He removes the chains and bands on her. Her knees ache as she stands up. She empties the glass in one drink.

"There is a fresh set of clothes outside this room. If you want this to end..." He looks her in the eye. "Change and I will take you home. But if not, clean yourself up and wear what's in the briefcase and prepare yourself for the rest of the night." He leaves her to decide.

It is so simple. Of course, she wants this to end but the way he said it, meant much more. It is not only the night that will end but also the end of them as husband and wife. She knows that and knows her choice.

Paul waits impatiently by the car, wondering if his intricate plan will work. Everything until then has gone smoothly but it is the moment for her to choose and that scared him. She can leave him for good and she has the perfect reason for it too. A judge would love a kidnapper and a torturer. The worst of all, they could take his baby girl from him. His heart races when the doors to the cabin open.

Maria stands there in the black corset only. She shivers as she walks up to him. Relief washes over Paul.

"I am here but don't expect me to go out like this." She pouts which makes her look so immature. Paul smiles and opens the doors to the Porsche Carrera. He gestures to her to get in.

"Who's car is this anyway?" Maria asks slipping inside reluctantly.

"I borrowed it from a friend." Paul answers with a devious grin.

He gets in the driver seat and revs the engine to life.

"Where are we going?"

"To Gary's cabin." Maria thinks her ears have gone deaf because Paul couldn't have said 'Gary's cabin'. "I scratched his car a few days ago and offered to fix it for him." Now that she thinks about it, Gary does own a Carrera. "I called. He's expecting me with his car."

"Paul, why are you doing this?" The car speeds up; the trees turn into a mass of blur.

"Look in the glove compartment." He says while still speeding. Maria opens and finds a large dildo stashed in there. "Use it to pleasure yourself but don't cum." She can't possibly imagine doing this. She wants to get out the car and tell Paul to shove it but her hands involuntarily find her holding the dildo near her entrance. Paul zooms in and out, overtaking the few cars that use this road.