Cleo's Extraordinary Education Ch. 2

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The continuing the tale of Cleo's training.
1.8k words
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Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 12/16/2001
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The sound of the car leaving, outside, compounded Cleo's sense of abandonment. She was completely alone. No-one knew where she was. A sense of desolating loneliness overtook her, a sinking in the pit of her stomach. She was also naked, and chained to a metal pillar no thicker than a scaffold pole. She rested her cheek against the cold iron and felt the tears leaking from her eyes and dripping on her bared breasts. Her bonds kept her in a constant state of physical discomfort. Standing as she was, facing the pillar, her arms shackled at full stretch above her head, if she turned her hands inward she could hold on to the metal pole and support a part of her weight, to ease the pain of the handcuffs on her wrists. But to do so she had to stand on the tips of her toes, and before long the strain on her arms and legs became unbearable and she slipped down, and the cold steel bit again at her tender flesh.

Spasms of anxiety overcame her: she had no idea what he intended to do to her when he returned: if he returned: and the thought of what he might do sent her gasping into the depths of depression. At the same time, the clamps on her nipples sent arrows of sensation through her body. She had been thoroughly aroused and the need and the desire called forth by her captor continued to echo on, long after he had gone. Cleo had to find relief and distraction somehow, and the pole between her legs was both the instrument of her captivity and the only means of pleasure at hand. She found herself pushing back against the belt around her waist and lifting her hips, rubbing herself against the hard iron, through the cloth of her kilt and thong, desperately trying to achieve orgasm but failing because she couldn't quite get the right angle to rub her burning cunt properly, to find the bud of her clitoris and stimulate it as it wanted to be stimulated.

The time for Cleo thus passed in a cycle of grief, self-pity, pain, sexual arousal, fear and uncertainty, and in constant small shifts of physical position. Soon, exhaustion was added to her plight and she entered a kind of dream state, a state where her thoughts became distant, like echoes of another time or another self, and she wept constantly, and cried out and talked to herself, hearing her own voice as though it was someone else's.

When she heard the car returning, and his footsteps on the stairs, she felt enormous relief, and a hectic hysterical joy. She greeted him with tears, and pleadings.....

'Ohh, thank you sir, please sir, I'll behave sir, I'll obey you...' His only reply was a cold silence which sent shivers through her, but at least he was another person and surely he could not be so cruel as to leave her again... Somewhere close by she heard a tap running, the sound of a bath filling with water.

The sounds ceased, and she could feel him standing behind her. She could hear the whisper of his clothes being discarded, the chink of his belt buckle as it fell to the floor.

And then came the vicious hiss of something in the air, and a narrow band of fire and agony leapt into life across Cleo's upper thighs. She screamed, and then screamed again as the blow was repeated, higher up, on the crown of her neat tight buttocks, a long hhhiiiiss sssmmmaaackkk!!!, and again she screamed and again the cane or riding crop came down, hhhiiiiss sssmmmaaackkk!!!, and again, and again. From mere passive misery Cleo was thrown into a lake of unbearable agony, agony undreamed of, she could hardly breathe and her own shrieks and cries were echoing and re-echoing around her.

The whippy implement struck again and again, pushing Cleo ever deeper into a dark world, lit by flashes of lightning, a world of intense and utterly helpless pain, soundless because stunned into deafness by the sheer volume of her own shrieks.

He thrashed her until her buttocks and thighs were crossed and crisscrossed with livid marks and she hung, barely conscious, by her sore wrists.

And then Cleo's mysterious captor released her and stripped her naked and carried her across the room to a huge old fashioned bathtub and lifted her in to the hot, soothing water and got in behind her and soaped and bathed her slowly and languorously, his hands hovering on her breasts, sliding down the delicate incline of her stomach, his tremulous finger tip gently sliding the length of her cunt, separating her cunt-lips, sending waves of intense pleasure through her. She felt the strength of his member upright and stiff between her buttocks, his fingers turning her head and his mouth pursuing hers relentlessly, assaulting her with his tongue. She relented and opened her mouth and they kissed for many timeless moments and she knew that she was lost, already, her personality changed, and falling helplessly in love with her ruthless captor and tormentor.

After the bath he wrapped her in a big towel and carried her to a large bed in another corner of the cellar. A big round bolster lay across the bed: he draped her carefully over the bolster, her ass in the air, her face turned and cheek against cool clean pillows, her arms and legs spread-eagled and bound by ropes to the corners of the bed. He blindfolded her again, then threw a cover over her and left her there, once more alone in the dark cellar. Cleo fell asleep instantly.

She awoke, some hours later, to the feel of his forefinger, nudging into her anal canal. The shock was like a bucket of cold water on her body. She struggled and mewed and protested: '...you've just earned another beating....' he said, flatly.

He gagged her, the tough plastic ball stopping her mouth. His finger bored into her, working her anal sphincter ruthlessly. She felt straps going around her waist and hips, and something hard, twice or more the width of his forefinger, penetrating her rear entrance deeply and being held there. Her abused muscles twitched on the intruder. The straps holding the butt plug parted on either side of her cunt, leaving that opening exposed. She felt him grasp her hips and felt his big cock slide easily home inside her, gliding on her juices, the sensation doubled and made more complex and ambiguous by the way her arse was already stretched. His hands took her breasts, and he began fucking her with a strong, regular, unhurried rhythm, then his thumbs and forefingers took her nipples, pinching and tweaking the pink morsels, sending little jags of pain through her.

He was riding her, deliberately, not fast but hardly slow, shoving into her tight wet tunnel and out again. Her mind span back to happier times and her riding lessons, the rhythm was exactly like that, the horse at an easy canter, the saddle pressing onto her sex and away, onto and away.... She moaned into the gag, helpless beneath his thrusts, being ridden, like a mare, the pleasure a little way off, the pain from her nipples and ass tormenting her.

Her captor was chasing his own pleasure, not hers, and the sight and feel of her young, strong, helpless body, spread-eagled across the bolster, her shapely hips and plugged ass, her auburn hair scattered around her, her head jerking on the pillows, aroused him immeasurably, his cock as hard as a rock pillar, fucking her. Fucking her. Fucking her...

He leant down and whispered in her ear, shoving himself into and out of her with each phrase..'this... is what ...you are ...going ...to become. A helpless .... vehicle ....of other's ...pleasure.... One ... who desires .... only this... And this. ....And this...' He thrust himself up to the hilt into her, trembling, feeling the shadow of his pleasure sweep over him, thickening and strengthening and becoming more real, and moved into a gallop, panting in her ear and twisting her nipples, accelerating, feeling his orgasm boil in his balls, hearing her gasp and cry out wildly, 'oh, yess, please, fuck me...', ploughing her with his big rigid cock jammed up her tight, so tight, cunt, feeling the first spasm and ploughing hard into her, to stop there for a trembling 30 secs then pump and pump and pump his hot come into her palpitating cunt.

Afterwards, his hands moved more gently on her breasts for a while. He twisted - still inside her - and dragged the coverlet over himself, leaving her naked from the waist up. Then fell asleep, his arms around her back. Cleo lay awake for a while, unsatisfied, his cock still in her, and only a little less hard than when he had been riding her, the butt plug making her ass muscles twitch and flutter. Until, finally, she too fell asleep.

She awoke to the glutinous feeling of the butt plug being extracted from her and the straps being unfastened from around her hips. His cock replaced the plug, nosing between her buttocks, and he began to push, slowly at first but with increasing force until the big empurpled head dove in through her tight ass-sphincter. She tried to cry out but being still gagged couldn't, and felt him riding her again, exactly as he had before but this time with his big cock part-way up her tight fearful ass tunnel, moving in her as regularly as a clock's pendulum.

She felt him shoving deeper into her tender virgin flesh hole and at first it was only pain, discomfort doubled and redoubled and amplified by the bruises where he had whipped her, but after a while her sphincter muscles relaxed and she began to experience a pleasure she hadn't expected, hardly describable, like being fucked but not, without the intensity or possibility of orgasm, darker and deeper, more demeaning, pushing her down into the depths of herself but at the same time welcome, she welcomed each advance for he was still pushing slowly against her tightness into her anal canal, shoving further into her with each stroke until with a groan he reached his limit and began ramming her with renewed vigor, sending her squealing over yet another edge of herself, down and lost in a sea of perverse enjoyment of her own humiliation. And then he stopped quite suddenly, and she felt his jism spattering deeply inside her.

He pulled out, and sprawled across her, his warmth and strength and weight on her back and legs, and once again fell asleep almost immediately. Cleo could not follow him, this time, the pain and discomfort in her buttocks and back passage keeping her awake and weeping silently into the darkness of her blindfold, the feel of his big half-tumescent penis in the cleft of her buttocks a constant reminder of her captor's power over her.

After a while she felt him stirring, felt the air colder on her back as he rolled off her, heard the pad of his naked footsteps cross the cellar floor, and ascend the steps. The door slammed, and she was alone in darkness and silence. Only then did Cleo, finally, drift into a troubled sleep.

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