Kidnapped & Taken Ch. 01

I rubbed my cock through my slacks on the drive home. I had the bitch safely tied and gagged in the trunk and was enjoying the dark night, the anticipation, the pleasant feeling coursing through my cock as I alternately squeezed and stroked it through my slacks. I was going to have some fun with this one.

She was long-legged with raven hair, very fuckable – yep; I was going to have some fun. Who knows, depending on her sensibilities, she might have some fun too.

I pulled into my garage, being sure to let the overhead door shut all the way before opening the trunk. The look of fear that greeted me over her taped mouth was gratifying – we were nicely on our way. I untied her hands from her legs (she was currently in that most useful of ties – a hogtie, effective and humiliating at the same time) and muscled her out of the trunk. She still hadn't seen my face – I'd put my ski mask back on.

I pigeon-walked her to the house, leaving her hands secured behind her back and her feet separated by only a couple of linked double snap hooks. I also put a black hood over her head, not enough to interfere with her breathing (hopefully she didn't have a cold), but enough to obscure her eyesight. So, tied, afraid, in the dark – she was escorted into my lair.

There was no point in wasting any time. I pulled out my pocketknife and divested her of all of her clothes. The whimpering through the tape just served to make me stiffer and more determined to take as much fun from this as possible. After all, there was a significant chance (1 in 5? 1 in 4?) that I'd be going to jail – might as well make it worth my while.

She was now naked, except for some of the rope and metal jewelry I'd given her, her gag and her hood. I tied her arms securely around the load-bearing post in my hallway. It ran from the floor to the ceiling and supported the second story of my house at the front of the stairway. I took a moment to enjoy viewing her creamy white skin, her long legs and the curve of her breasts against her ribs. Her nipples were hard – maybe from their naked exposure to the air of my house, maybe from some secret excitement, more probably from fear. She had a nice ass. She hugged the post in fear – I could still hear her mumbled pleas for something (I assume mercy) through the tape on her mouth.

I unhooked my belt, slid it from my pants and began her introduction to my favorite kind of pain – sexual pain delivered by me. I concentrated first on her ass, moving from there both down to her thighs and up to her back. Her loosely tied wrists (around the post) allowed her some freedom of movement, but her closely-secured legs kept her basically in place and helpless. I enjoyed her thrashing around as she became intimately familiar with her situation. I took time out to rub my cock as often as I wanted since she wasn't going anywhere. It was going to feel good to have something other than my hand on it soon.

The red stripes that began to show up and down her body were very pleasing to my eye. The cries of pain, rage and despair were also pretty arousing as well! The mark of a belt always shows very nicely on a woman's flesh. With a hand, there's sort of an all-over redness. With a belt, it's much easier to see where you've kissed a whore's flesh with leather. A belt was also more suitable for this occasion, more impersonal, more in keeping with our rapist/rapee relationship. A spanking, especially at first, would be too intimate, signal more emotional involvement to "Raven" than actually existed between us. She was a bitch, getting strapped for no particular reason, in preparation for getting fucked. It was a simple concept, though I doubt she recognized the full implications.

I hadn't spoken to her yet, either during my snatching her from her home or during this first strapping. I know I was being a jerk. She must have been terribly confused, not being able to make the stock offer to "fuck her, just don't hurt her"...or "she wouldn't turn me in if I let her go now". We needed to get past all that. I wanted to reinforce to her as quickly as possible that she didn't have any say, at the moment. She was just a woman and I was a man taking my pleasure.

When she slumped against the post, hugging it tight, ten minutes later, I knew she'd had enough. It was easy to turn her around. She was exhausted. This time I tied her hands up and above her head (again behind the post). This lifted her tits nicely – they were begging for attention. Too bad I couldn't see her face (the hood and all). In addition to having a tight body, I knew that she was nice looking as well. I smiled quietly as I heard her muffled sobs begin again with the first strike of my belt across her rib cage, just below the swelling rise of her tits.

The red marks of the belt were more vivid here, if just because they were being placed on parts of her anatomy much more tender than her backside.

As I proceeded to redden her tits, tummy and thighs I continued to gently rub my own prick, keeping it hard, keeping it ready.

Of course, strapping a bitch (any bitch) across her tits and her tummy is much more personal, much more forward, than a traditional strapping. The quick sobs of pain, the abused and reddened nipples, the heightened fear that comes from this non-traditional area of the body creates a much more personal connection with a cunt than the more traditional ass or back strapping.

I took several opportunities to run my hands over her beautiful cream-and-red flesh, tweaking her nipples often, giving her a small break from the leather, while I manhandled her to my heart's desire. I put a couple of clothespins on her nipples and had fun striking them off with the belt, re-attaching them, striking them off again. It was a fun game for me. It kept her nipples hard, it kept the moans coming from her taped mouth and it kept my cock hard. A tri-fecta of accomplishment, I thought.

Periodic checks of her 'secret garden' revealed progress as well! At first, she was dry as a bone, but over time the ever-greater moisture on my fingers was an unmistakable sign, whatever her protests, that she was into this at some level. I was familiar with how a female could be trained to get wet just from a belt-spanking. It looked like this one could be good material for making a full-time sexual wench (though personally, I liked variety).

After another ten minutes of this attention from my belt, I asked if she was ready to suck some cock. She nodded so vigorously that I'm sure, if I'd allowed her speech, she'd actually be begging me (or some close approximation thereof). Evidently, I'd gotten my point across. She didn't have the strength to struggle at all as I untied her hands from the post before securing them again behind her back. She also made not a peep of resistance as I led her across the room and put her on her knees in front of me while I sat down on the couch.

I removed her hood, but tied a long scarf tightly over her eyes before removing my own ski mask. This left most of her face uncovered as well as her long hair. Her whole body was bathed in sweat from her ordeal. She looked lovely – helpless, hurting, silent, wet – the perfect woman. I pulled the tape off of her mouth, giving her the first chance to speak.

"Please let me go..." she whimpered, the inevitable request.

"Would you like to be tied again to the post?" I enquired smoothly.

She sobbed in fear, but said no more as I unzipped my fly and guided her down onto my cock. I got no further protests from her. Evidently she decided that her current situation was preferable to her prior situation. Besides, her body had betrayed her anyway. She was wet and I hadn't even shown any tenderness to this point (other than withholding my strength in my belt strokes). I took her request to "let me go" for what I knew it was – a way for her to maintain a little bit of dignity and deniability afterwards when she'd have to deal with the fact that getting raped was the best sex she'd ever had.

Her warm mouth felt really, really, really good!

I never worry that much about a woman biting my cock off in this situation, although the possibility is always there. I figure that women are made to suck cock anyway – biting probably doesn't occur to them as a first option – it's probably instinctual to suck rather than bite – a survival trait you know (past female biters wouldn't long survive to have female offspring to continue their biting ways). I also always rely on my 'foreplay' techniques to convince them to be 'good girls' when given the chance to experience something pleasurable (like sucking cock) as opposed to something not so pleasurable (like being whipped). Regardless, I'd made the right calculation here as well...she sucked with gusto and fervor – I was satisfied.

She was a beautiful sight in front of me. She was on her knees and her hands were behind her back. Her legs were still secured by just the two short lengths of a couple of double snap hooks. I probably could have had her in a kneeling hogtie, but this would have made her balance a little bit unpredictable and I favored enjoyment for myself, at the moment, over humiliation for her. She was naked. I'd left the clothespins on for this blowjob. I knew her nipples would get numb soon and she'd not feel much pain anymore and they were such a nice piece of additional jewelry for my own visual enjoyment.

Of course, they'd hurt like hell when they eventually came off as blood came back into the oxygen-starved nubbins of flesh, but that was more of a concern for her than for me.

Her skin, as she continued to suck my cock, was a beautiful combination of red and cream stripes, with little dark 'pin-prick' looking spots everywhere – those were probably areas that I'd visited more than once. I'd strapped her pretty thoroughly but even a man with all the time in the world can't visit every square inch of skin in a mere half-hour. In short, she was more beautiful now than when I'd first lain eyes on her – and she had my cock in her mouth to boot! Who said heaven wasn't attainable right here on Earth?

I gave her a few moments to 'get acquainted' before taking a more active role in my blowjob. I loved a woman's mouth on my cock – almost any woman's – it usually felt pretty much the same. Whether they were blondes, brunettes or redheads, I was an equal opportunity enjoyer of the female mouth. She was making a great effort to get me off. She took direction well from me. She was very responsive, just like a highly trained dog, to a hand in her hair, on her shoulder or on the back of head. In short, she was expert at playing the tube-flute with an experienced conductor like myself. This was to her credit, I thought.

Of course, I was enjoying another benefit of our rigorous foreplay (the belting). Women became very eager to please, very mindful of technique, very enthusiastic (most of the time) after such an experience. I'm sure she felt that the more enjoyment I got, the easier it would be for her in the long run.

Of course, she was right, but only on a comparative basis. Rape was, after all, rape.

The feeling of sliding into a woman's mouth is almost indescribable. I know it and can imagine it, but it's hard to put into words. It's a visual thing, a sensory thing, (maybe a vibration thing). The most unique aspect is when I slide my cock past that certain 'point'. I hit that spot where I begin to activate the bitch's gag reflex, where I begin to feel her mouth and throat start to tremor, to convulse – it provides an immensely satisfying feeling – before that point, it's one kind of blow job. After that point, it's a completely different kind of blowjob. If I discussed this with other men, they'd know what I was talking about. I can only feel it in my cock, nowhere else, the pressure of her mouth around the head of my cock increases immensely.

The depth of penetration required to get this gag reflex is different for different whores. Of course, sometimes that's as far as some bitches ever go down on a man's cock. They won't go past it. Some have trained themselves to go farther. Some are taken farther by the right man – whether he be a boyfriend that she really likes, a husband that she still likes or a rapist that demands that 'little something extra' in the cock-sucking department.

Of course, all bitches know where their gag reflex begins and, when sucking cock, many of them never even go down THAT far, much less beyond it. They spend all their time above that crucially important point in their mouth, that point where THEIR gag reflex begins. Those are the worst girls. They just don't know how pleasurable it is for a man to feel that convulsion of her mouth around his prick, that immense tightening, that reaction from her throat when he reaches her gag reflex. Those are the girls who need at least one man, at some point in their life, to demand better of them.

Of course, being in charge of this current situation, I was able to take Raven (that's how I thought of her since I didn't know her real name) to and beyond her gag reflex as often as I wanted...and I did! It was farther toward the front of her mouth than many girls. She had an extremely responsive gag reflex and I used it well to bring pleasure to my stiff cock.

I also took several opportunities to shove her shoulder-first into the carpet, with her ass in the air, spearing her from behind before moving her back into her previous oral devotion. I was gratified that the first time I fucked her she was well-lubricated. I slid in with ease. As I fucked Raven during these brief interludes, I could tell from her body language that she was having a great time. Her hips met mine on each powerful thrust. I felt small tremors underneath me that signaled (as only body language can) pleasure and maybe even some orgasms.

There are very few female problems, after all, that can't be solved with a nice, thick dick. Of course, I didn't enquire directly to her...that wouldn't have been in keeping with our rapist-rapee relationship. I didn't want to ruin the experience for her!

She was right not to protest as I transferred my dick several times from her cunt to her mouth over the next half hour. Over time, like all cunts, her true nature was revealed. Her moans of hurt and disapproval eventually turned, slowly but surely, inevitably, into moans of a different sort. There is no shame in that – she's only a woman, after all. Just as there are few problems that can't be solved by a dick, there are few woman that can't be brought to see the light by a worthy male, to enjoy their natural femininity, the way they're built by nature to be invaded and conquered and how men who are willing to invade and conquer are more worthy than those who aren't.

Near the end, her passion and enjoyment became crystal clear. Brief snatches of "Yes! Yes!" and "Oh my G*d! Oh my fucking G*d" escaped in murmurs loud enough to reach my ears – sweet music!

I often ponder whether I enjoy fucking a woman more or less than I enjoy getting my cock sucked. I used to spend hours contemplating this puzzle, to no avail.

I've come to the realization though, over the years, that there is no need to ponder that question too much. When there's no discernable reason not to get both as much as you want, what does it matter? Although the feel of a woman's mouth sliding up and down your cock is so personal, so intimate, so docile, and so great – the feel of your cock sliding in and out of a woman's cunt (or her ass) is so primal, so right, and so natural.

There really is no comparison between the two feelings. They're both equally right; they're both equally essential to a fully balanced enjoyment of the typical whore. Granted, some bitches are much more talented with their mouths (or have pussies that are just a bit too loose to enjoy fully), but then there are other bitches who have such a tight cunt that it feels like an E-ticket ride every time you slam it home inside them. The great thing is, even if some individual whore's cunt is not quite tight enough to live up to my expectations, her ass always solves that problem.

This one's cunt was tight. I almost couldn't bear the thought of pulling out and putting it back into her now-eager mouth. The only thing that let me pull out was the knowledge that I could put it back in her cunt often and at any time I wanted (or at least until I busted my nut). So I continued to happily fuck my raven-haired beauty's cunt and mouth with whatever cooperation she was willing to give.

I could tell, now, that she didn't want me to take it out of her cunt either. There were moans of disappointment, a reluctance to recommence her oral service, the beginnings of a verbal protest (if an effective protest can be made while you're blindfolded with your hands tied behind your back). These little hesitations I quickly suppressed with a strong right hand, liberally applied to cheek, ass and breast. She accepted my not-so-gentle rebukes with grace and wrapped her mouth around my cock again, resigning herself that she'd have my cock in her cunt when and how I wanted it, not when and how she wanted it.

I could feel the stirrings of an orgasm deep down in my balls. Now we were getting somewhere. It probably had to do with that little bit of resistance that I so efficiently snuffed out. I delayed my build-up momentarily by stuffing her brutally down the length of my cock. It always feels great to gag a girl with dick, feel her struggling for air... and the lack of friction up and down my pole served to temporarily stop the ignition sequence for my final blastoff.

But I had to face facts. I was near the beginning of the end. It was simply a matter of time and motion now, until her efforts would drain my sac, at least temporarily.

So I had to decide where to deposit my precious jism. Would it be down her throat? That was always a favorite of mine. How about in her cunt? Too conventional for me – this bitch probably experienced that honor too many times from other gents (whether they were as forceful as me or not). I dismissed the idea of spraying on her face or tits – that just wasn't my style – a senseless waste of cum, it never makes a lasting impression, physical or psychological – and it was messy to boot.

That left her ass as the only viable alternative to her stomach. I hadn't yet plumbed those depths and sometimes, I know, a woman never feels truly 'taken' until she's taken in that last hole. Just to make sure she knew the score, I'd have to slide my cock in there for at least a token amount of time before we finished here tonight.

I decided to defer a final decision on where she'd have the honor of receiving my seminal fluid in favor of the more immediate task at hand – and I had to get a move-on as even somebody who jerked off as much as I did (endurance training, you know – I can get women whenever I want and I DON'T have to KIDNAP them – I'm not a geek really) couldn't extend this party too much longer. I entered her cunt again, but also began to use her now-copious juices to 'prepare' her third corridor for my larger-than-average cock. As I worked my first finger into her tiny brown hole, I noticed a definite stiffening of her body underneath my pistoning prick. She momentarily broke her own rhythm, her doggy-style rocking and uttered her second complete sentence of the evening.

"Please don't fuck me there," she pleaded, music to my ears (the pleading, not the actual words).

"I tell you what, the next protest I hear from you and I'll get my broom. You can have my cock, or a 48" broom handle – it's up to you," I replied. "Personally, I think it's better for both of us if you just keep quiet."

This threat, real or not, had its intended effect. She protested no further as I worked a second finger, slimy with vaginal cream, down into her asshole, preparing the way for my larger and thicker one-eyed snake. I was gratified as she redoubled her efforts at meeting my thrusts into her cunt, shuddering in what was probably an involuntary orgasm once again – hoping against hope that I'd find my release sooner rather than later.