Captive in Dark Leather: Full Novel

I hear a loud industrial crack, and then feel sudden heat on my body, as if I stepped out into the sun.

"...Behold! A fresh supply of female slaves, procured just for you!"

The audience erupts in oohs and ahhs and applause at that instant. The crack and heat must be from big lights turning on. I'm guessing we were here in the dark waiting for our cue, and now we've been revealed in dramatic stage lighting.

"On this stage you'll find 22 brand new slaves, literally just off the plane. Fresh meat, carefully curated for your pleasure. Under my expert supervision, we have begun their training, to start the process of keeping them in line. But there is still a long way to go, and that's where you come in. They are yours to train, to mold, to discipline, to beat, to fuck, to torture, to interrogate, and anything else you may think of. Now, as part of their initial indoctrination here, they've been kept hooded and blindfolded for almost every moment of their stay. I think it's time to give them a good look at what's in store for them, and also see the pretty faces of our slaves."

More wild applause. I hear movement near me after that. Every minute or so, it's punctuated by more cheering and applause. This seems to go on for quite awhile, as the movement gradually gets nearer to me. I start to hear the sounds of muffled screams and crying here and there as well. And then I feel her, the Woman. I don't know how I can tell, but she's standing right next to me. Her voice is still amplified, but I hear it right beside me as well. Then I feel a hand as it caresses my leather-hooded chin.

"This little beauty is my personal favorite. In every collection, there is always one who is first to break, without need of the whip. One who follows commands so well, that she begins to crave them. One who is born to lick, to crawl, to pleasure, to debase herself for the taste of a mistress' boot. My little beauty has done so well so far. She has earned the time she will be spending as my personal little pet. But don't worry. Slaves are not exclusive here. You will all get the chance to use her if you so wish."

I feel activity at the back of my head now. The straps for the dildo gag are unclasped. It's yanked out of my mouth. I can't help it; a mouthful of drool comes flooding out of my mouth. Then my hood is unzipped, and unceremoniously yanked off my head.

I struggle to see at first. My eyes have been encased in darkness for days. There's a big black spot in my field of vision, with bright, blurry light around the edges. Slowly, the black spot in front of me revolves as my vision comes back gradually. It's a face, right in front of me. Our noses almost touch. It's a Woman. Mid-40's, close-cropped hair dyed jet-black, which offsets her pale skin, and blood-red lipstick. I look down, and there they are...those shiny black leather thigh-high boots. It's the Woman! I knew it! I lose myself in staring at them for a good long moment. I can't help it, I even salivate a little. Then my chin is tilted back upwards. The Woman's eyes are following mine back up from there. She knew exactly what I was staring at, and exactly what I was thinking. The Woman smiles. It is not a kind or friendly smile. It's the kind of smile that tells you she's going to enjoy what happens next, but you won't so much.

"I have been waiting to do this for three days."

Before I know what's going on, her lips are on mine. She grinds into my lips, then pushes her tongue through them. She grabs the back of my head, and pushes it in as she pushes her tongue as far into my mouth as she can. It's forceful, brutal, rough. There is nothing remotely tender or romantic about this. She's doing this because she can. She holds me like that for a moment, exploring my mouth with her tongue, then abruptly pulls out.

She moves away from me now, to my side. I realize that she's presenting me. My eyes have gotten used to focusing on her right in front of me. They have to re-focus now. I squint, struggling to take in the blur of light that seems to roll back for eternity. As my eyes adjust, I start registering shapes. Out in front of me is a crowd of people, staring at me. I can't tell how many at first, it could be a legion. But gradually, I begin to see walls, and a ceiling. I'd guess there are between 30 to 60 people in this room, on couches and plush chairs, all staring at me. I still can't make out much more than shapes. Very bright lights are shining on me.

Stage lights, that's what they are. I'm on a very low stage, just a foot or so off the ground. I look up and see lights there as well. I'm the show, and they're my audience. Wait, they're not just my audience. As I look up, I catch shapes in my peripheral vision. Now I turn to look. There's a woman right next to me, staring back at me. She can't be more than two feet away, and she's strung up just like me. Naked, bound, collared, with a taut chain stretching from the back of her collar to the ceiling. But she's not exactly like me. Her body, there are red welts all over it. She's been beaten, whipped. Could she be one of the first two women who didn't lick? She's blonde, with her messy hair not quite touching her shoulders. She looks about 40 maybe? 45? I see other shapes beyond her on this stage. Other women, all collared, bound and strung up like us.

Then I notice something. I know this woman! I mean, I don't know her, but I've seen her before. How do I know her? Where have I...I've got it! The plane. She was on the same plane as my husband and me. She was coming to the Bahamas, just like we were. Then I notice a woman just down from her. That woman was on the plane too. I look at the other women, and then I turn my head. The woman on the other side of me was on the plane too. She's a redhead. Young, has to be in her 20's. She isn't covered in welts. She must have licked when she was commanded, like me.

There are women all around me. And I recognize just about all of them...from that plane. So that's it. Club De La Desclos, that BDSM-themed resort that my husband and I thought would be a kinky salve for the next step in our marriage...it was just a front. A lure, to bring us all here for. It's so clever. The club exists, but it doesn't exist. The picturesque resort we were all sold on was just an illusion. This is the real club. And it's not for us. It's for them.

I should have known. We all should have. That fabulous package deal was just too good to be true. I'll bet we're still getting charged for it on top of all this.

As I continue to gaze at the women trussed up on this stage, I realize there is no unifying theme to us, except that we were all on the same flight. Our ages must range from the 20's to the 50's. Maybe even the 60's. Blondes, brunettes, the one redhead, some with a touch of grey, one with bright purple hair. White, black, Asian, Hispanic, Middle Eastern. Are we all women who were searching for something in a unique sort of getaway? Did we all come with our husbands? Where are the husbands, for that matter? Are they here? Are they being held somewhere else? I don't even want to think of alternatives beyond that. I am shaken out of my reverie when the Woman speaks again, looking out to the audience.

"One last reminder before we start. I say this from experience: this is not the week to hold back. It is not the week to temper your impulses. I guarantee you, if you do not give full vent to your most brutal, savage, cruel, sadistic urges, you will regret it. These are slaves, property, to be used, beaten, fucked, and subjugated. There are no safewords. Your only limits this week are the limits of your twisted imaginations. There is just you, your will, and these objects of your possession. And remember, their participation in our little excursion is not what one would call voluntary. There is a good chance they won't like the things that you do to them. You should use that to enhance your own enjoyment. I know I do. Although, there will be a few who take a liking to this sort of thing. There always are."

There always are. Am I one of those few? Is that why I am adapting better than others? Not out of fear, but out of some primal need to be taken and subjugated? Is that why even now, I crave the taste of her boot on my tongue?

The Woman has one more thing to add.

"The only guideline that I insist on, which you have agreed to, is that no permanent damage is permitted, beyond the odd scar or two for them to remember you by. Otherwise, they must be in shape to make their return flights home."

Odd scar or two!?! I look around and see women shaking and sweating. After three days of captivity, training, and punishment, we all knew things like limits or safewords didn't exist in our world any longer. But this is inspiring a whole new level of fear. But that mention of our flights, I hold on to that. This is not meant to be permanent. We will be let go. That must mean our husbands will be there as well. Sure, maybe that's all a lie to keep us in line with a slim thread of hope. Maybe I'll never know life beyond this ship, these bonds, and the taste of her boot. But I need that hope now, so I grab it and hold on to it.

As I've made that determination, the Woman turns from the cheering audience to face me again. She looks me straight in the eye.

"Now then...there's something else I've been waiting to do for three days."

As she says that, I can't help but stare down at the cruel looking leather strap in her hand.

Chapter 5

After three days, I've finally found some answers. I knew I wouldn't like them.

The Woman continues smiling, as she looks me in the eye.

"There's something else I've been waiting to do for three days. We'll get to it in just a moment."

I struggle to maintain eye contact with her, instead of staring at that cruel looking leather strap in her hand. I have followed every command she has given me without hesitation. I cannot recall the taste of anything else but the exquisite leather of her boots. She started my training yesterday, and I did so well I thought. I crawled when I was told, and heeled when I was told. She seemed so proud of me. So why the whip?

Something happens behind me. I feel a release, as the chain keeping me tethered to the ceiling is unclasped from the ring on the back of my collar. While maintaining eye contact, the Woman hooks her finger through the other ring at the front of my collar, and pulls. I am led forward as she walks. I struggle to keep my balance and keep up with her in my high heels, with my arms and wrists bound behind me. She leads me back and forth from side to side between the women on display and the people out there. She's parading me in front of the clientele, giving them all a good look. Then she stops in the center and addresses our audience.

"Notice how she struggles to keep up with me, but never falters, never gets out of line. She's not the youngest, and certainly not the prettiest here. But look at her body. Barely a mark on it. Why? Because this one knows how to follow commands. She is one of the easiest slaves to train that I have ever encountered. She listened to the sounds of punishment around her, and submitted instantly. She has yet to give cause for punishment. I almost hate to do this, because she has been so obedient. But I'm like you...I have my needs. And the more she has behaved, the more it's made me crave this."

I start to feel a panic in my stomach building. She pulls me, with that finger in the ring of my collar, over to a table that some handlers have placed front and center on our slightly raised platform (it's a stage, of sorts). It's padded around the sides. Why?

The Woman pushes me against the side of the table, and bends me over it. Handlers appear. Are they the same ones who have bathed me, fed me, caged me, and cleaned me after I've taken a shit in front of them every morning? I feel my legs spread apart while one holds me down against that table. My ankles are cuffed. Leather cuffs? My ankles are secured tightly. I can't move them. A chain is clipped to the front ring of my collar and pulled taut. I am immobilized, bent over this table. Now I know what that padding is for. I am grateful for that tiny mercy. A black ball is suddenly shoved into my mouth. It's pulled tight as it's strapped around my head. I've been ball-gagged. Even though it's nowhere near as intrusive as the dildo-gag that's filled my mouth for most of the last three days, it's still a gag. It's still de-humanizing.

"There's no need to muffle her screams here, of course. But we want just the screams...no actual words to get in the way of our enjoyment. A gag like this prevents her from being able to articulate anything. Now, we take a moment to savor this sight, and..."

Nothing happens for a moment. I can feel everyone's eyes on me in the absolute silence of this cavernous hold. The only sound is my breathing. Then, a quick swish, and...

Whack!

"Mmmmffffff!"

I scream through the ball-gag as leather makes first contact with my ass. She's right, there's no way to talk through these gags, just scream unintelligibly. The whipping hurts. Oh, why is she subjecting me to this? I followed my commands. Isn't that enough for her?

I close my eyes and tense up, ready for the next one, and...

Nothing. Nothing happens. I open my eyes to look around as much as I can. My body relaxes a bit. Why isn't she whipping me? Isn't this why she had me trussed up over this table?

"Now, anyone can whip a slave like this. But to truly get under her skin and make her feel the pain, you have to look for ways to make things...interesting."

I hear a sound in the silence. Shuffling, off to the side. It's faint at first, and then becomes clearer as I catch them in my peripheral vision. Two men lead a third person towards me. The men on either side are captors, handlers. They lead a naked person in-between them, another slave. A black leather hood covers the slave's head. Was that the same kind of hood I was trapped in?

This is a slow process. The slave's ankles are chained together like mine were. They can only move so fast because of this. The wait is agonizing. When they finally reach me, they stop about five feet in front of me and turn to face me. I am shocked when they do that. Why?

Because this slave is a man. His flaccid cock catches my eye first. It's encased in a leather harness of some kind along with his testicles. I can't seem to look away from it. But then I finally do, and take in the rest of him. His hands are bound behind him. He's naked otherwise, except for the chained ankle cuffs, collar and hood. He's also bruised. There are fresh welts on his body. This man has not been following his commands.

Isn't that crazy? The thought that goes through my mind is that he hasn't been following his commands? I'm adapting far too well to this place. After making a note of that, I start putting things together. This man proves that they don't only keep the women for slaves here. Presumably he's a husband...

Wait! The Woman strides up to him. She cups his cock and balls in her hand, gives them a gentle squeeze, and caresses them. It starts to stiffen, but only slightly. Oh my God, I know that cock. I know it so well. It's...

The Woman gestures for his hood to be unzipped, yanks it off with a flourish, and turns to look me in the eye.

It's Phillip! My husband! He's alive, but he's also here, a slave like me. I am frightened and relieved at the same time. I'm so glad he's alive, but with both of us here, I know there's no one searching for me out there. From the looks of Phillip, he's been resistant. It hasn't gone especially well. I hope he's learning his lesson, and becoming more obedient. It's the only way I can see to get through this horrible ordeal.

Phillip and I lock eyes. There's a mixture of panic and relief on his face. He's glad to see me, but not like this. He can't say a thing, because his mouth is jammed with a huge bright red ball-gag.

"Now then", says the Woman, "we have a slave ready for action down there on the punishment table, and her nice strong husband here."

The Woman caresses my husband's cheek.

"What to do, what to do" she murmurs as she strolls from my husband back to me. She's behind me now. I hear the swish of the whip, and...

Whack!

"Mmmmffffff!"

Another blow to my ass. Phillip flinches in the hands of his handlers, who hold on to him tight. I can see it in his face: he wants to find a way to get free and rescue me. But the Woman's not looking at his face. She's looking at something else, down lower.

"Isn't that something?"

She walks back over to my husband and takes his cock in her hand.

"I'll bet he's been fantasizing about taking the whip to her ever since they booked their little trip. Probably building it up in his mind during the long flight. But look at him now. Soft. So very, very soft. What's the matter, big boy, reality not measuring up to your dirty little fantasies?"

She gives him a little squeeze. He moans, and it's not a moan of pleasure. I can hear the fear, frustration, and pain in his moan. She absentmindedly strokes his cock while looking him in the eye. Then she caresses his cheek. Oh God, he looks in agony over this.

"Well, don't worry, I know how to handle cases like this. You'll like what I have in mind."

The woman lets go of his cock and his cheek and wanders back over to stand in back of me. Then she gestures to her handlers and snaps her fingers. One of the men takes my husband's cock in his hand, while the other cups my husband's balls.

"Now, then, I am going to finally take my pleasure with your sweet, obedient wife, and give her the whipping I've been looking forward to for three days. While I work her over here, my staff are going to work your cock and balls at the same time. I warn you, if you know what's good for both of you, you'll get hard fast. For you see, I am going to whip the living shit out of her...until you cum all over her face."

Suddenly, the room is filled with ooohhhs and ahhhhhs from the audience. They didn't see this coming. Neither did I, nor my husband, judging by the horrified look on his face. But unlike my husband and I, the audience absolutely loves this idea. They can't wait for the "fun" to start.

"I warn you, I'm not one to hold back when my fun comes into play. She is going to feel pain like she never felt before, and the louder she screams, the more I'll like it. But how long she suffers is entirely up to you. Her best-case scenario would be for you to be a premature ejaculator. That would sure get her off easy. But maybe you're the type who takes a long time to build up to it. Mmmm...that wouldn't be so good for her backside, would it?"

The horror of this plays out on my husband's face. To save me, he needs to get turned on by watching me be whipped.

"Don't worry, you'll have plenty of help. My men here are very experienced with this sort of thing. They've worked plenty of men to completion. You literally could not be in better hands. Now, if you want to spare your wife some pain, I suggest you get turned on real fast, and spray a nice gooey tribute all over her pretty face."

I can't see it, but I can feel the Woman's arm rear up in back of me. While that goes on, my eyes dart back and forth between my husband's eyes and cock. His eyes are filled with pure anguish. The hands on his cock and testicles are still. They're waiting for it. Then I hear the quick swish, and...

Whack!

"Mmmmffffff!"

As I scream into my ball-gag, the men start on Phillip. One pumps his flaccid cock, while the other gently massages his balls. Such a light touch for a man whom I'm sure can be called on to be as brutal as he needs to be. The audience roars at all this.

I hear another swish, and scream into my gag again as I feel the cruel leather against my ass. Then the Woman grabs a fistful of hair, pulls my head back, and starts really whipping me. She keeps to a steady, brutal rhythm, one blow after another. I pull and squirm against my bonds as I scream into that gag with each blow, while she keeps that tight grip on my hair. And while this goes on, my eyes keep going back and forth between Phillip's eyes and his cock. And I see a big problem as I'm being whipped...