Housebound Ch. 04

She failed.

His fingers released her, then, and she panted with relief until she realized he was digging in his pocket for yet another of his seemingly endless supply of devices. When he found it, he flipped her easily over onto her back and shoved his knee between her legs to hold them apart, even as one hand pressed between her breasts to keep her down. The other hand was tugging off the last scraps of her clothing.

Collared, nude, achingly wet against her will, with a string of beads shoved up her ass. Emma didn't see how her situation could possibly get any more degrading. That was, until he brought out a specially shaped clamp and set it on her clit.

"No!" she gasped, and bucked wildly, consequences be damned; but he just smiled and started to tap the face of his watch, still holding her down. Each shock was more painful than the last; she grunted with pain, then yelped, then screamed aloud by the time he got to ten jolts. Her muscles were shaking too badly to even squirm. He spanked her pussy a few more times, until her clit was throbbing and stiff, and put the clamp back onto it. He tightened it and flicked her once to make sure it was on firmly, as she gasped raggedly for breath.

Then he took the leash off of her collar and clipped it to the clamp.

"Up," he said, standing and finally releasing her. She failed to get her legs under her on her first try; he snapped the leash until she managed it, legs still shaking. Then he made her walk behind him, wrists still strapped to her collar, as they once again entered the room with the bed in the middle.

Emma was right back where she'd started, and even worse off. Her whole body ached. Heat burned in her lower belly, and she could feel a trickle of her own wetness making its way down her left thigh.

He pulled her to the bed, then pushed her down onto it, on her back. The last time he'd done that she'd managed to use the bounciness of the springs to get away from him, but this time there was no chance of that. She tried to squirm away, weakly, but he simply grabbed her collar and hauled her over to where he wanted her: horizontally splayed across the sheet, with her head hanging off the edge of the mattress.

"Would you like to be gagged?" he asked matter-of-factly, as he unzipped his black jeans and let them drop, then pulled his sweater off over his head. His cock wasn't huge, but it stood out rigid enough under his boxers until he pulled them down as well. "I ask only as a courtesy."

"Fuck you," Emma panted.

He grinned, clambering onto the bed above her and forcing his knee between her thighs again. Emma still hadn't quite recovered from her last bout with the electric collar; she couldn't keep him out. Soon he had her legs on either side of his waist, putting one hand under her hips to lift her wet pussy up toward his cock.

"You first," he said, and jerked the leash.

The pain in her clit was exquisite. Emma inhaled sharply and felt herself bucking her hips forward, forcing herself onto him to relieve the pressure, her body completely at his command. His cock impaled her and still he yanked at her clit-leash; she found her legs wrapping around him, pulling him as deep as she could bear into her aching cunt.

She learned the correct rhythm soon enough: he snapped the leash, and she pulled him as deep inside herself as she could; he released, and she slid back a little, just enough to pull him in again. Her ankles were crossed behind his back, and the bed was damp and cool beneath her with their sweat and her wetness. Jerk, release. Jerk, release. Fuck, release. Fuck.

It wasn't until he actually released the clamp and took it off her clit that she fuzzily realized he'd stopped using the leash some time ago, and that she was fucking him anyway.

"How does that feel?" he said, throaty and amused, as she hissed through her teeth at the tingling pins and needles that accompanied blood rushing back into her clit. The sensation grew suddenly more intense, then began to recede, and she glanced down in mid-fuck to see that he'd placed something new against it: like a little vibrating silicone cup, lubricated, at one end of a thick handle.

Even after all the abuse he'd dealt her pussy--perhaps because of that--it felt good. Really good. Emma's cunt was flooding anew, and she found herself fucking him even faster, because when she relaxed her trembling legs and pulled away he pulled the toy away too.

"Subject is nonverbal," he said, panting as he braced himself against her bucking hips, "but reaction is very positive. I've often wondered if I could control a slut like you purely through clitoral manipulation, Emma."

"--not a s-slut," she gasped, in the face of all available evidence, chest and cheeks flushed, body gleaming with sweat.

"Then stop," he whispered. "Try to escape again. Show me what you're really made of."

He pulled the toy away.

Emma, whimpering, tried to make herself unlock her ankles and push herself off his hot thick hard cock. Instead, she felt herself arching desperately upward, like a begging puppy, her clit following the cup.

He laughed and began to brush the tip softly and lightly against her, breaking her rhythm, until she was squirming like a marionette to follow his hand. "Now, now, a good slave must recite her lessons before she gets her reward. What did I tell you would happen, down there in the garage?"

"That I'd c-crawl," she managed.

"Crawl like what?"

"Like a little--like--aaAAHH!--like a l-little bitch!"

He gave her a brief burst of pressure, just as she pulled him deeper than ever, and Emma felt her mouth opening, eyes rolling back in her head. "Good! And then?"

Her mouth was so dry (yet she was so wet)--she had to lick her lips several times before she could continue. "Chain me to the b-bed."

"Oh! Do you know, I nearly forgot that?"

Her eyes went wide, and he reached down, roughly grabbing her pussy and shoving her away from him. Confused, she let her legs untangle from around him as he pulled out of her, but before she could have a moment to figure out what was happening, he'd flipped her over onto her belly.

His hand was at her collar, doing something, and then the straps binding her wrists came free of it with a metallic click. She had no opportunity to do anything about this (and at this point, she found herself wondering, what would she have done?), as he was instantly yanking her arms out straight and locking each wrist into a ring a couple feet up the tall steel bedposts.

She was almost kneeling, now, but pitched considerably forward, with much of her weight on her wrists. To get any kind of balance at all, she had to try to pull her legs under her--but his knees were pressing down hard on her ankles, so that when she did that, the only effect was to pull her body back a few inches.

Onto his waiting cock.

"I do think the cameras like this angle better," he breathed in her ear, as one hand began to tease her clit with the toy again and the other came up to pinch a stiff pink nipple.

Humiliatingly, Emma realized she'd already begun to fuck herself back against him again--but only because she couldn't help it, in this awkward position. Right? The question blurred into meaninglessness in her mind as she groaned with animal need, his cock now in the perfect position to grind against her g-spot.

"We haven't reached the end of the lesson yet," he reminded her. "What did I say I'd do next?"

"Ffffuckme," she breathed.

"Be specific," he murmured, biting her earlobe sharply.

"Ngh! Uh, v-violate my cunt!"

"And then?"

Emma's heart pounded. "M-mouth?"

The teasing pleasure at her clit suddenly stopped, and she found the pulsing little cup at the end of the toy before her lips. She could see the way it gleamed, her own wetness coating the tip.

"Open," he said.

Still fucking him, Emma sucked it clean.

He began to pound back against her for the first time, forcing the toy deep into her mouth; Emma knew he couldn't possibly last forever, and she could hear the ragged edge of control in his voice as he whispered again. "I gave you a rule to obey, didn't I, Emma?"

"Mmm nnn mmmm--"

"That's right," he said, pulling the toy out from between her lips with a pop, "you aren't going to come. Not today, girl. No matter how bad you want to." He pressed it down hard against her clit, now wet from her tongue instead, and she was sure he was wrong: she was definitely going to come, any minute now, she was so fucking close! But he pulled away at the last moment, and suddenly slowed his thrusts, leaving her balanced on the very edge. Thoughtlessly, Emma pushed back, trying to get his cock back inside her. She only needed a little more--

"No no no NO," he growled, and she felt the clamp snap onto her clit once more.

Emma squealed like a--well, like nothing so much as a girl throwing a tantrum, she had to admit, as her body thrashed wildly at the sudden pain. He rode her gyrations for a minute or so, enjoying her desperate squirming, before a tap on his damnable watch stilled her with a paralyzing shock.

"You skipped something, didn't you? Such a naughty slut, thinking she could be clever. I suppose I'll have to instruct you. I promised, Emma, to violate your cunt, your mouth, and... oh yes."

Emma hung in her chains, exhausted muscles twitching, dripping with sweat and her own arousal. She knew what was coming. She almost welcomed it.

He began to fuck her again, pressing the toy against her clamped and hypersensitive clit for a slow and measured second with each long thrust. Emma felt herself climbing to the peak of orgasm, getting closer and closer--and then, just as he rammed himself particularly deep, he pulled the first bead out of her ass.

There was pain to it, and pleasure, and shock, and somehow it was just enough to distract her from the attentions being paid to her pussy. Then he thrust again, rolling the tip of the toy against her, and she surged upward--and the second bead on the chain popped out.

Over and over he did it, manipulating her body with masterful precision, until she was too wild with desperate need to do anything but writhe and fuck... and beg him.

"No," she heard herself whimper, "please, don't, fffFFUCK, can't, c-can't, cunt, please, please please please nnnoooo--"

The words leaving her mouth seemed distant and independent somehow; she had no control over them, and wasn't even sure if she was begging him to stop or to just fucking get on with it. All Emma could think of was being bound here, wrists and cunt and clit and ass aching, always wet, always frustrated, always completely possessed.

She couldn't remember how many beads he'd put inside her, and she lost count at a ten on the way out. Then, when she finally felt the last one leave, he pulled off the clamp. Again, the pins and needles; again, the overstimulation and gradual relief of the toy, keeping her trembling on edge.

He began to push the beads back in.

Emma broke; she knew it, felt it happen. Her body ceased to be her own. It was his toy, his possession; she existed to provide him with a cunt, and her clit and nipples and mouth and ass were controls on her to be used as he chose. "Please," she whispered, "please, please, you win, your cunt, all yours, please!"

He pulled out, and she felt his hot cum splash against her back; she cried out with each spurt against her gleaming skin, feeling something happen inside her aching pussy that wasn't an orgasm exactly--a pulse, a contraction, a tightening of a leash that offered new heights of desperate pleasure without a hint of relief. Hanging there on her knees like a sacrifice to some ancient beast, dripping with sweat and wetness and his seed, Emma closed her eyes, unable to believe the deep satisfaction thrumming through her still-needy body.

His hand stroked her cheek. "We're going into the bathroom now," he said, his own voice a little raw. "You will crouch on the floor, where I will clean you, after I've cleaned myself. You will be permitted water and a little food, and then we'll go to the bedroom across the hall. I'll lock your collar to the end of that bed, and you'll sleep naked at my feet. Disobedience... well, I think I can rely on you to be tame for the moment, can't I, Emma?"

Without looking up, she nodded.

He unclipped her chafing wrists from the bedposts and locked the slender leash to her collar once more. He didn't even have to snap it; aching and stiff, she lowered herself down onto the floor, on her knees and elbows, fingers locked behind her head. She arched her back to look up and follow his finger. He pointed toward the door.

Emma crawled.