The Taking

Its 5 o'clock in the evening and everyone is starting to leave the office. "I think I'll stay late and catch up on some paperwork," she says to her boss. She has been meeting with clients all day, and is looking forward to some time alone if only just to be able to finish a thought without interruption.

After everyone is gone, she goes and turns up the music in her office; there is something special about being in the office alone, like she is the boss now, in control. She goes back to her desk, and stretches, kicking off her high heels, looking over the piles of papers on her desk. Her beautiful large Mahogany desk, it is big enough for two people to work at if needed. Her mind starts to drift to thoughts of being taken on this desk...it was what first attracted her to it, and she just had to have that desk. Best not to get distracted she tells herself or you'll get nothing done.

She shakes the lusty thoughts from her head, and tries to organize the papers into workable piles. Her mood is high, and she starts to sing out to the old rock and roll music that is belting from the speakers, almost loud enough to drown out her voice. "Roxanne...you don't have to put on the red light...Roxanne..." she sings loud but very badly out of tune.

Suddenly, something in her intuition tells her she is not alone. Her heart pounds as she remembers she never locked the front door after everyone left. She stops singing abruptly, but before she can turn around or call out, a leather hood is pulled over her head, and she is quickly pushed down onto her desk, papers fluttering everywhere. In her panic she couldn't scream, it is stuck somewhere in her throat. Not that it would matter... no one would hear her. She grunts and groans against her attacker, trying to somehow get free. But he is too strong; too big for her to have any real affect...it only amounts to a bit of wiggling, which most is enticing to her attacker. He presses her down over the desk, holding her down with his own weight, his thighs pressing her legs apart, bruising her against the edge of the desk. He quickly gets ties around her wrists and binds them tightly behind her back.

There is something familiar about his movements. All her senses are on alert, as she breathes in the heady leather scent of the hood. Could it be her boss...she has noticed how he is always trying to catch a look down her blouse. She has found her voice now and begins to scream,,as that is all she can seem to do. At least she is doing something, trying to fend off the attack. All this does is earning her a smack upside the head; she quickly stops, seeing stars in the darkness of the hood. "OK, I got the message", she says to herself, best to wait for your moment she thinks. "Wouldn't want to upset him, maybe if I go along, I'll at least stay alive". He pulls up her skirt, revealing her pink panties, he then smacks her ass hard, and then tares the panties from her, she senses his growing anger, he continues to spank her till she feel tears stinging her eyes. "No" she screams at herself,"don't cry or you'll lose all control."

Now he reaches to tie her ankles together and bending her legs back quickly binds them together with her wrists, hogtied; she feels completely helpless now. He steps back, knowing he has captured his prey. He admires his little handy work seeing how her cheeks have taken on a nice glow from his attentions.

He jerks her head back by the hood, picking up the remnants of the panties, pulls back the hood just enough to stuff her own panties into her mouth. Then quickly the hood is pushed back down, forced now to breathe in through her nose, the raw scent of the leather once again engulfs her. She tells herself to calm down, she needs to focus on breathing for fear of passing out. She needs to be alert to look for her moment when she might be able to escape. Even tied up where she can't move the fight is still strong within her, her will is high. He steps back again and watches her futile efforts, "such fight this little one has", he thinks to himself,"well that won't last for long."

He rolls her to her side, and easily pulls apart her blouse, buttons flying, reaching in and pulling each breast out to see, roughly twisting them and pinching them; it is a shame she has to have the hood on, for he would love to see the expression on her face. A groan comes from the mask, she tries to pull back from his touch, recoiling from his touch, and he then begins to even more roughly squeeze each breast as if to show, the more she resists the harder he will be with her.

He has bigger plans for her this evening, but right now his need is great, and he takes her now. Pulling her to the edge of the desk, he reaches between her legs and smiles to himself, she is soaking wet, and bringing his fingers to the nose holes in the mask he presses them into it. She cringes at her own betrayal of her body,"how could I be arouses at this attacker?"

He holds his fingers to her nose, then suddenly she feels him slide easily and deeply into her, he fucks her madly, with his animalistic need. He wants and takes what is His now. Her naked skin sticks to the slick surface of the desk, with each deep hard thrust, she feels her body pull against her breasts, his weight pressing down on her, she wishes she could brace herself against the on slot of his forceful thrusts, but she is helpless to do anything except accept him. Cold reality comes to her, when the thoughts of her Master comes to mind...what will he think, say or do...feeling she is betraying Him, her fight is renewed. She tries to scream again through her muffled panties, her fingers seeking something to scratch, to buck back, arch back, any small movement, but this only proves to fuel his hunger. Reminding him the lesson he is here to teach. Just as quickly as he entered her, he pulls out, and a groan escapes from her lips, he smiles to himself, as her body betrays her once again, he knows if he had kept it up longer, she would be begging to cum. Well tonight isn't about her will; but Mine he says to himself. With that thought he picks her up slinging her over his shoulders, like a side of beef, and carries her out to his truck.

He drops her into the bed of the truck, she falls hard but just before she would hit her head he catches her; in some bizarre way this comforts her if he cares enough to keep her from getting accidentally hurt, and then maybe he won't hurt her after all. He unties her wrists from behind her back then ties them to anchors in the bed on the truck, spreading her arms out, taught. He does the same with her ankles, now she is in a spread eagle position, beautiful he thinks...her skirt is bunched up around her waist, her breasts overflowing from her bra, her blouse laying open exposing her to him. He cinches down the ties even tighter, and then pulls a tarp over her. He gets in the truck and pulls away. She is thankful for a few moment to gather her wits about her, trying to judge the turns the truck makes, a left then a right; winding turns; she senses he is going up to the mountains, after what seems like forever he turns onto a gravel road. He stops the truck and gets out, but doesn't come for her right away. Now that he has her away from the office, there is no need to rush... he has all night.

Finally he comes for her, flinging back the tarp revealing what is His, His property, His captured prey. He fastens a chain around her neck. Then he unties her from the truck, shackling her ankles together, and binding her wrists once again behind her back. He pulls her off the truck, helping her to find her balance then pulls the chain forward. She hobbles ungraciously trying to keep up with his tugs, fearful of falling. Once he has her in place, she is standing between two trees, which he has already set up ropes to tie her to, she smells a fire nearby. He releases her wrists again, only to pull her arms over her head and tie them up again. He watches her... watching her taking a deep breath, seeing the beads of fear on her chest. He pulls out a knife...pulling her head back again; he touches the tip to her throat, then slowly running the blade down between her breasts, then swiftly cutting away her bra, slicing easily through the lacy fabric. He makes quick work of the remaining pieces of clothing, till she is standing before him naked. He stands very close to her now, his cheek pressed against hers, feeling the rhythm of her breathing. He wonders, has she figured out that it is Him? He waits, and he senses her breathing slow a little. He then removes the hood; released from her leather confine her eyes struggle to adjust to the light. He pulls the panties from her mouth, and then as he comes into view, she cries out...Master!

Tears spring to her eyes as the full recognition comes to her. In an instant what was once fear is now replaced with shame. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" she pleads with her Master.

He looks her in the eye and wipes away a tear brushing it aside wiping her cheek with his thumb. And says..."I Know".

She turns her cheek towards His touch, wanting so much to feel that everything is ok. He walks around her, inspecting. Her heart is pounding, as she recalls how she fought against Him, her Master, something she would never even think of. He leans in standing behind her, whispering in her ear, stating more than asking, "You didn't even know it was me?"

"No Master...i didn't", she cries out, "please forgive me, i was so afraid".

She bows her head, how could she not know, the hands that knew her body so well, how many times has she felt their touch. He spins her around, twisting the rope that holds her wrists over head, pulling her up just a fraction more; she struggles to find her balance again.

"Look at me!" He commands.

He squeezes and twists her breasts in much the same manner as he had done back at the office. She looks in Him the eyes, pushing her chest out for Him, accepting his rough touches, her eyes pleading to be taken, she will give Him anything. There is no fear in her now, only wanting more than anything to please her Master, and earn back His good graces. By the time this evening is done, she will learn His touch over every inch of her body.

He reaches for his flogger, the long leather straps kissing her backside. He works it over her back, her thighs, letting it flicker around her side so that it snaps at her now tender breasts. She struggles not to cry out, as she accepts, she knows from experience that this is not the punishment, and also knows that punishment will most certainly come. More than once a well aimed strike hits a tender spot and lifts her to her toes.

Her breathing has become very heavy now, He pauses a moment, then goes and picks up his knife, tucking it into his belt. It is a menacing thing, a six inch blade that curves up at the tip, and notches along the top edge. The black handle is beautifully carved a work of art that has a nice balance in the hand of the wielder. He knows she has a great fear of knives; he wants her to struggle between her own fear and trust of Him. She catches the glint of the blade at His belt; her natural reaction causes her to catch her breath. He notices, He notices everything about her. He grabs her by her hair, pulling her hair back, "look at me" He again commands...He sees her eyes have become glassy,

"Look at who is your Master","don't forget who owns you," bringing her thoughts back to Him. Releasing her hair, He pushes two fingers into her mouth, pushing her head back, testing her gagging reflex; she keeps her eyes trained on Him, "tell me who you belong to?" He asks.

She struggles to answer with his fingers in her throat, but does the best she can, "You, You are my Masther", her reward is a tight pinch on a nipple.

"What will you do for me?" he then asks his words slow and calculating.

"Anything, everything Masther", she responds. Again she is rewards with a pinch to the other nipple. He pulls the knife from his belt, once again pulling her head back grabbing a bunch of her long dark hair. His moves are quick, but she keeps her eyes trained on Him, seeing his intensity. He traces the edge of the knife down her throat, leaving a faint white scratch line in its wake. He is very slow taking his time, talking to her all the while.

"I take what I want, do you understand","yes Master" is her constant reply.

"Your body is mine, to do with as I wish", "yes Master."

"You will never fight me again","yes Master".

After a long pause, he then says very softly "I'm very disappointed in you tonight"

A tear springs to her eyes at his last comment, his face is so stern, "after tonight, you will never doubt that it is your Master who is touching you".

"Yes Master" she answers most pleadingly.

The knife has traveled over her breasts, down her waist, and across her ass, she can feel the blade crossing over welts that have begun to rise up from the flogger. She is thankful, thankful that He is taking the time to teach her this lesson, she so desperately wants to prove herself worthy, and the tear escapes the corner of her eye.

He grabs her pulling her tight to him, and kisses her crushingly, bruising her lips, taking what is His. As he lets the tip of the knife press against her ass as he pulls her to Him. She totally surrenders to His kiss, feeling His power over her, she never even notices, that the knife has pierced her skin...just enough for a drop of blood to arise against the pearl white flesh. He quickly releases her, leaving her gasping in her passion and swiftly cuts the rope that hold her arms over her head. After being held up for so long her body forgets how to balance itself. He orders her to her hands and knees. Thankful for the change in posture, she quickly complies. He sees the small trickle of blood, and bends to kiss it away, then giving a hard bite on the very spot, causes her to yelp, just a little. He sees that she is trying so hard, but some lessons are hard to learn.

He orders her to kneel in front of him. "Look at me" comes the same command again. He removes his belt; she has come to fear the belt, as that has always represented a punishment in the past. Her eyes drop from nerves, for just a moment,

"Look at me" he yells. He squeezes her face in his hand.

"Keep your eyes on me always, don't ever look away", his stern voice is barely a whisper.

She answers though her pressed cheeks, shaking her head, "Yes Master", as he pushes her away.

She strengthens her resolve, she can do this, and she will do anything for Him. She watches as He removes his clothing. She admires His body, as she always does, although never before has she been so boldly allowed to look so openly. He again picks up his belt, and wraps each end around his hands, putting the leather strap behind her head. He uses this to pull her towards him.

"Worship me, learn my body, and know ME" he commands.

She gently takes Him into her mouth; breathing in the heady animal scent that is Him, to her it is the sweetest perfume. He puts more pressure on the back of her neck, with the leather belt, pulling Him more deeply into her mouth. She struggles to accept the length of Him, feeling the pressure on the back of her throat, fighting the urge to gag; she keeps his eyes focus on Him. She relaxes, wanting to please her Master; she doesn't need to breathe or to exist, but only to please Him. Her eyes water with the strain, and He releases her, she gasps, before she can fully recover, He enters her mouth again.

"Worship me" He commands again, releasing the length of the leather belt, to allow her more freedom.

She takes her time, licking over the length of Him, feeling the heat of His body, tasting Him; she is intoxicated with her task. He feels her devotion to him. She takes Him slowly deep into her throat, again and again. She feels Him pulsing in her throat, her big brown eyes looking at her Master. Then he pushes her head deep into him, holding her there, gagging her with his cock, testing, she feels He is about to cum, a moment later she tastes His release, taking His gift. She is most thankful, and feels every fiber of her being sink at His feet. She is careful not to waste a drop, and holds Him gently in her mouth. When he at last pulls away, she whispers "thank you Master".

He orders her now to put her head down, on her hands and knees, her face to the ground, rising her ass high in the air, the last sight she sees is her Master walking away, dangling the leather belt from His hand.

She smells the earth beneath her, feels the warmth from the fire nearby, crackling, as well as the welts already beginning to form on her skin. She listens, hears him walking around, taking a drink. He watches her from the corner of his eyes. Looking for signs of denial, of her own will fighting against what she knows is her proper place. She doesn't move, only the slight wiggling of her toes betrays a little nervousness.

He snaps his belt in the air, and watches her reaction as she jumps as the sound. Then they come, a torrent of lashes with his belt, with no time to catch her breath between strokes. It takes all her will to accept them, but she stays in her place. Strikes land on her shoulders, her arms, her back, her feet and her already reddened ass. Her breathing is ragged now, her body His. He positions himself behind her, and quickly takes her ass. She cries out, and then quickly surrenders all her being to Him. He takes her roughly, slamming himself against her, again and again, her hands grasping at the earth and grass. No she will never forget His touch, she is His completely.

When at last He is spent, she collapses on the cool dewy grass, grateful for the cool feeling it allows her. He gives her these few moments to recover, when he sees she is beginning to shake, He brings over a blanket and wraps her tightly in it, laying next to her, He holds her tight, as her body begins to register all that it has borne this evening, "i'm sorry" she whispers again...."shh little one... all is forgiven" She knows that all is forgiven, but that nothing is forgotten.