Tara in Space Book 01: Kidnapped

He had been the school and county free-style-swimming champion, talk of Olympics and possibly medals in the local press. Then amongst the girls in the fifth and six forms, his blue eyes, jet-black hair, his perfect pecs, the six packs and what seemed to be filling his blue wet speedos kept us dreaming at night. I had wanted him to be my first. Paul his eyes closed, his body tense the stomach muscles defined as I stroked his rigid penis. Paul naked in the grass, his strong thighs parted allowing his heavy balls to hang in their sac. I felt the heat of the shaft in my hand and with it the power. Slowly I sat up to let my arm do the work properly. Feeling less timid, I caressed the member; the hardness and the size making me flush across my face and neck. I slid my fingers along the big swollen vein, as far down as Paul's testicles, it seemed to grow in my hand, pulling my fingers apart. The thick taught threads of the veins like rope underneath arching the shaft towards Paul's tight walled stomach. Nothing was soft. Paul's shaft had grown so much that it seemed endless, my fingers unable to go all the way round. Even in the noonday sun, I felt the goose bumps on my skin. Down my hand went the skin stretching unveiling the domed head its tiny slit leaking a clear liquid. His hand coming up behind me forcing my head down to him, I looked at the clear crystal drop, and instinctively licked it without a thought. It tasted a little salty, but not soured as some of the girls had said. Now my damp palm begins to squeeze him, massaging the thickness and tormenting it, in long broad strokes and merciless little movement until my arm ached. I knew Paul was holding out, and I felt only the power between my fingers. I increased the speed of my stroking, his hard body lifting off the blanket, his tight cheeks clenching, as he moved with my hand. I twisted my hand stretching the skin almost spanking his balls. He grunted his hand keeping my head close to the throbbing shaft as it slid in and out of my fingers showing me how much I must open to him.

Paul came in long spurts over my hand, face, and hair. I tasted my first sperm, strange a syrup of many things, none of which I could put with anything. I had lain on his stomach looking at the part of him, which would soon see inside my body. I knew it would probably hurt, but I wanted it so. I licked down his belly my hand holding him for my mouth. I lay there my mind made up, slowly in my hand it began to throb again as I moved down to take it in my mouth, and prepare him for me.

The tractor had come through the gate and into the field and stopped. We quickly dressed and ran for the far gate and our bicycles. Paul was angry, as for me, I had a fit of the giggles. We agreed to meet three days later, where I promised to give myself to him.

The next day he had been wiped out on a bend by three joyriders. The mangled remains of his bicycle the front page of the local paper. I had cried for a month.

The next man who entered my life was the total contrast, for he was a lot older, and in a combination of frightening, and exciting me totally confused me. I had come back from shopping with my mother. The reasons new bras as always, and the way I was growing out of them at an alarming rate.

The man had stood in our farmhouse kitchen drinking coffee chatting to my father. He was looking for a substantial house and grounds; my father an estate agent listened. He turned on hearing my mother and I enter the kitchen. He was tall, and big, yet his size was proportioned not bulk. The heavy shoulders tapered to slim hips, the trousers perfectly cut hid nothing of his strength.

Nevertheless, it was the rugged face framed by shoulder length black hair. The prominent chin seemed to support the lips that opened in a smile of perfect teeth. Above them light grey eyes separated by the straight Romanesque nose looked back at me, and for a few seconds held my mind. I shivered realizing I was in the presence of perhaps the most powerful personality I had ever met.

"This is my daughter, Tara," my father said. "Tara," he continued. "This is Mr Jonathan Ruddick a business friend. He is a very important client Tara so be nice to him." I smiled back at Dad as he winked at me. Ruddick's strong hand closed over mine. It felt callused by hard work, contradicting the expensive suit.

I suddenly felt his eyes roam over me and my flowery mini dress. Underneath my body tensed. He let my hand go with a sardonic smile, and turned to look at my Mother. Who looked like a moth mesmerized by a flame?

6.

Sabina suddenly climbed off the bed. "Come on Tara I have a surprise."

Turning I noticed again the scaring on her left thigh. A strange symbol cast in the light and shadows on her burned skin. She looked down and looked back at me peculiarly startled by my gaze. She had told me it had been done when as a young girl an electric heater had burnt her.

Standing her thighs parted her hands on her hips, her concave tummy highlighting even more of her bulging pubis. Sabina gave me a mock growl, and I rolled off the bed and kissed her between her parted thighs. She giggled and turned for the door and I followed.

Through a maze of corridors, we came to the back of the house and into a room lit by three large roof windows, strangely new for such an old house. Around the walls light grey curtains hung from floor to ceiling cancelling out the brightness of the sunlight.

In the centre now, holding my eyes was a portable silver dance pole. Around its base white fur, rugs were scattered, and to the side the cannon SLR waited on its tripod. Standing in a corner ignored and abandoned stood three lamps. It would seem natural sunlight would be enough.

On a table against the wall, I noticed a discarded box with the word Cannon, and a leatherette case open showing two lenses. In a bucket, a bottle of wine was cooling.

Two glasses of wine later, I was kneeling, sitting back on my heels, and except for the thin white silk thong that hid nothing I was naked. I arched my back proud to display my body to the camera, no longer embarrassed by what it could see. I looked past the lens at Sabina.

The camera shutter clicked.

Alana had sailed away for the summer holidays in a cruise ship with a very lucrative contract to keep the passengers from putting on to many pounds. Sabina had come over with Ruddick a few days later.

Sabina full of life and fun had invited me over to the house and I had accepted. The seclusion at the back of the house meant we could swim naked in the huge pool, and get an overall tan on the sun loungers. It also meant in the end, through the occasional teasing, and touching, in and out of the water. Sabina had become my second lover. The strange thing was I never saw Ruddick. Although what his relationship with Sabina was, she never mentioned, and I strangely never bothered to ask. Her frequent comment, only saying he was away a lot because of his business. Although sometimes from her attitude, I did feel he was close, even watching us. When she mentioned him, her voice always seemed to be almost deferential.

The camera shutter clicked again, and her voice invaded my thoughts.

"Come on slow coach I want to see the slave pleasure her Master.

I looked up at her from the floor. I had talked with Sabina about my pole dancing routines, and the strain sometimes on my shoulder after inverting and finally doing the splits. Sabina seemed fascinated in the beginning, and on one occasion had asked me how I did it. I tried to show her but she feigned she would never be strong enough. Surprisingly her next questions had related to the pole, and my rapport with it.

"It's a pole, just a pole, silly." I laughed.

To my surprise, she had argued no Tara, it is your partner, your lover, your tormentor, and maybe even, you're Master. I had chuckled at the thought of something lifeless as a pole being my Master. Yet afterwards I had thought about it. The pole was an integral part of me. Just the same, as my dancing partner would be in a waltz, tango, and jive.

The conclusion was simple. If I was not to be just another pole dancer, I need to put something different in my dance routine. Alana had said a dancer needs to be a show off, and I had done a few routines with just a thong and even without one. Being naked was never a problem, I had a good body after all. Yet there I would be a stripper nothing more. Men would come to look and gawk at me, fantasize about me, or just simply look between my legs.

In my mind, I tossed ideas around about being a jungle girl, a twist on a ballet dancer and a Tango pole dancer. I had tried them all and rejected them. Next had been the bond with the pole within the dance choreography. A lover perhaps, possibly my tormentor, and finally maybe even my Master. I shivered the latter being the easiest to play, but the hardest to make convincing. Yet in my sleep it haunted me. Sabina was in some ways dominating me, maybe by a simple suggestion here and there, and the returning question could I be a slave girl. The mind-set required me to read a few books on slave girls in harems, and strangely, I wondered what it would really be like to live in a huge palace, the pampered pet of a Sultan. There to lie on a soft ornate couch, waiting for the command to come to his bed, I shuddered at the thought of some fat old man sweating on top of me. Now if Paul had been the ruler of the harem. A little tear ran down my cheek.

Next day I collected a peculiar stare from the Librarian, when I placed my three books on the counter for date stamping. I quickly got them up into my bedroom and began to read them. Formulating in my mind the new dance routine from the adventures of the fictional females locked up behind high walls. It was the last book which made me shudder. The story had been about a girl, taken by a warrior after a raid on her village. The strange mood swings between them, there taunting of each other, and his final mastery of her. The final scene of surrender from the girl I could not get out of my mind. Slowly I began to build a dance around it.

I first placed the mirror on the floor, and teddy on the bed as my judge. I positioned myself on my knees. The complete slave girl I had seen in countless images on the internet. My head lowered my hands on my thighs or behind my back, thighs parted in submission. I had shivered at my naked flesh in the mirror, my breasts high and proud my nipples hard and the lips of my sex parted to show my excitement. I shivered it looked so erotic, I was on display showing my body and what natured had designed it for. I wanted to touch myself, but I giggled remembering I must wait for my Master to command me. My thighs parted wider my body arching to thrust out my breasts. I stared I felt hot and excited. Behind me a shadow stood holding a chain. I blushed and tried to slow my breathing. I was in a room full of men, all were talking and glancing at my kneeling naked body, as the shadow moved the chain coming from my collar. I shook my head and cleared my day dream. Those thoughts created the problem of what I should wear, too much would cancel out my role, too little, and I would revert to a stripper. Too many bangles would hinder me when I swirled around the pole. Nothing at all would again make me just something to gawk at. I needed to link not in words but in actions. In this routine I was the slave to the pole. For the moment, I would wear just a thong until I could sort out my dance routine, the risky formulation of my dance movements made me excited. With the easy part done for now, I needed to work out the hardest part of my arrangement. Other dances came and went, the real trick was to bring a combination of submission, erotic pain, and finally pleasure together, a seriously heady mixture for an eighteen-year-old girl to handle. Therefore, I had gone back to the dance school and in between the dancing classes I started too worked out a routine. The submissive slave girl living in fear of not pleasing her Master, it was not too far from the truth, for on the pole I was that slave girl wishing to please my audience.

7.

"Now go for it Tara, let yourself go. Your Master commands you to please him," Sabina's voice strange and hard yet at the same time excited.

The dance had begun with a solitary drum beat from the speakers.

I knelt before my Master. I could feel his presence, my body filled with tension; a shiver runs through me, I lick my lips to show my eagerness. I wait, still and silent, letting him exam me.

Sabina moved around me the camera shutter clicking remorselessly.

I ignored her.

I lay back on the hard floor my hands slid over my body. Capturing my straining breasts, I display them to his eyes, my nipples eager to be touched. I lean forward my hands on the ground.

I crawl towards him, my breasts swaying gently in their fullness between my arms. I come to the base of the pole and my master's feet, my bottom open to show the tiny strip of cloth covering me between my parted cheeks. I am a sensual slave girl for a demanding Master. At the base amongst the furs, I draw myself up onto my knees my thighs widely spread, my thong taught across my swollen lips. I slowly arch my back, my hands caressing the concave bowl of my belly drawing circles up and around my throbbing nipples, my head rolling and tossing from side to side. A fire burns in my pleading eyes as I lift my hands seeking to touch him. He is cruel, brutal cold and hard.

I kiss the base, and slide up along his hard cold body, my own warm and submissive wrapping itself around him. Slowly I let my body slide over him, feeling his hardness parting my breasts, running down my belly and between my legs. My lips kiss the pole through the thin silk of my thong. I move in close standing with my back to the pole, and grab for it, with both hands behind me and just above my head. My hips sway from side to side as my bottom grazes the hardness. I slid down the pole my bottom cheeks pushed apart my thong pulled hard into me. Running my hands down the front of my crouching body, I slide them over my thighs forcing my knees apart. Slowly I raise myself into standing positions, and moan in torment as he spreads apart my quivering cheeks.

The spins come quickly now, and my body shines with my workout, Sabina looks on over her camera, hardly clicking. I don't want to stop, I feel the pole and we become one. My body lays its self across it around it and down it. Aerials and splits are my favourite, and the most erotic the backward inversion extension, where I arch like a bow upside down, my thighs grip the pole on either side, as my pussy kisses the pole through my soaking thong. The crescendo builds the drumming growing faster, making more demands of me. I stand before him and slightly to one side to offer my slave flesh to him. Free standing for a moment I go again for the shoulder mount. I pull my shoulder hard into the pole, continuing the kick upwards with my right leg to gain height, my left leg leaving the floor. I feel my muscles in my shoulders; back and belly tighten like straining ropes, holding my horizontal body away from the pole for just a moment, my right leg moves further up the pole preparing to hook on above my head. Quickly I fasten my right ankle around the poles rigidity, and my other ankle follows. Stretching the length of the pole, I look down at the floor. Slowly I move my body using it to grip the pole, as I part my thighs into the splits for the perfect Aisha position. The drums have ceased their demanding rhythm, and I hang there for a moment my heart pounding inside my ear. Suddenly a single finger strokes my sex. I can see Sabina but she is too far away to touch me. The finger moves across my stretched thong, pressing down on the cloth. It is not Sabina's. I try to see who it is and find I am staring at a pair of boots. In my shock, I try to swing out and come down put the hand pushes me against the pole.

"Stay still girl I wish to see your eagerness to please. In a single tug, I feel my thong ripped from my hips, and a moment later, the torn wet rag falls to the floor in front of me. The laugh is cold the voice hard. "By the gods, you are an eager slut." His hands cupping my straining cheeks, I feel the hot breath touch my drenched sex.

With a spank on my right cheek, he steps back. "Now off the pole girl and kneel on the floor, and keep those thighs separated. I wish only to see your fervour from now on."

Arching over I see Sabina for a moment, come away from the table, standing her head bowed her hands behind her back.

I look at Jonathan Ruddick standing by the pole. I can only gawk at him in amazement. He is dressed now in black leather. The tunic secured by a single button was tight to his chest, and framing in its parted edges the muscled outline of his stomach. His bare muscled arms looked tanned and showed scars crisscrossing the dark skin. The black trousers encasing his legs showed powerful thighs. On his feet, with their metal buckles along one side was calf length boots. Around his hips hanging from his leather belt, I could see the butt of a large weapon holstered to his right thigh, and secured by cord, and on the left side clipped to his belt a coiled leather whip.

He nods to Sabina behind me.

I sensed Sabina come close and I suddenly feel a small pressure point on my left shoulder. Quickly warmth spreads into my body and I feel the blackness engulf me.

8.

The Slaver

I snuggled down on my belly, feeling my welcoming bed under me. I spread out my body. I search for Teddy but he must have fallen to the floor. I felt clean, scrubbed, oiled and strangely smooth all over. I felt a tremor run through my body. I floated half a sleep, my body open to the air. I nestled deeper into the softness, and wondered why it excited me. The feline snuggled into her bed contently. Naked I felt natural, I wanted nothing to cover me and stop those wonderful emotions. I wanted to explore them alone in the security of my bedroom.

The nightmare was over, and I was back in my bed. I burrowed further down feeling the fur brush my nipples.

I shivered, and a moment later wondered why my cotton bed sheet should touch my nipples in such a way. My eyes stayed closed. I resisted the coming of awareness. I did not wish to emerge from my bed. Consciousness seemed to come slowly, dimly. I wished to prolong the warmth, the pleasantness. I moved my head. My neck seemed to wear a weight; I squinted and see white fur. I close my eyes and then squint again, the white fur looks back at me. Next to me, I could see a small round bowl of water. I touch the cool ceramics, quickly looking around; I gasp in shock, my heart racing, my body tense with the vision before me. Beyond the bowl are the bars of a cage, running all the way around and above me, in horizontal rods of dark threatening iron.

The cage is too low for me to stand. I lean across for the bowl, and feel something hard rub against the skin of my neck. I look at the water, and ignoring my curiosity for the moment. I take a sip feeling it immediately cool my parched throat. I quickly gulp down the rest. With my thirst temporary quenched. My fingers move up to my neck feeling the metal on my skin. It feels like a collar. In my panic, I try to lift it up over my neck but it fits to tight. I look down and gasp, I am naked and between my breasts, a slim chain loops out from the ring on my collar, to graze my right nipple and pass through the bars, and onto a ringbolt in the grey padded wall.

What am I, and what has happened to me? I pull on the chain but it does not give, I look again at my body. I touched the skin it is so smooth, so tight and so sensitive, I touch my extended nipples, and immediately feel a shock wave shoot into my belly. I let out a moan. I squat down and immediately feel my hair touch my lower back grazing the top of my cheeks.