But she wasn't allowed to climax.
5. Cold Shower
Her captor pulled his fingers out of her and moved away instantly.
The sound of the shower nozzle running captured her attention, and then suddenly freezing cold water fell on her pussy, spraying on her clit and up between her legs. She screamed louder then, in disbelief and disapproval, but the icy cold water continued to torment her, flowing over her breasts, her neck, hips, back and her ass. Arms cuffed above her head, she shrieked, twisting and turning helplessly, trying to escape this unexpected arctic torture. Sir was remorseless however, covering every inch of her body with freezing cold water.
The water turned off abruptly and all was silent except for Elizabeth's indignant panting.
"You did not come?" he asked.
"No…" she said. Her voice rasped in disgruntled frustration. "I didn't come. Sir."
He laughed then and with one careless finger flicked a taut erect nipple. "The water was very cold, yes? Forgive me, Elizabeth, it was not nice, no? It was unkind. But I am a little bit cruel, I warn you, and I had decided that you were not yet allowed to climax. And still I wanted to eat and taste you, with your clean shaven flesh, so red and plump - swollen with desire."
The feel of his body pressed warm upon her icy skin as he gathered her to him, against his chest and his erection. He nuzzled up against her ear and said, "I enjoyed thrusting my fingers inside you, mon cher. I felt you clamp down on me hard - like you did with my cock. You have such amazing cunt muscles, remarkably powerful. They squeeze so tight! I enjoyed that very much, as did you. But you are not allowed to come, Elizabeth. Not without my consent, you understand?"
Angry, she remained silent and he twisted one hard nipple. "Do you understand?"
"Yes Sir," she said sullenly, and he laughed once more. The warm knuckles of his hand ran down her face in his familiar, soothing manner as he backed away from her. "Do not be angry, mon cher," he said, "for I will make you climax on the bed, where we can be comfortable and I do not worry about you falling in this bath. Come now, there is still much to do. Turn around."
His words puzzled her and she tried to interpret them through her sexual haze. It seemed as if Sir didn't want her to orgasm because he was afraid she might fall. Was he really concerned for her? The idea that he cared made something in her stomach flutter, because it just seemed so damn sweet. But he wanted her to turn her back to him now. Why? All this talk of butt fucking made her hesitate. What will he do next? she thought, and will I be able to deal with it? Befuddled and emotionally overloaded, she didn't move.
"Turn. Now," Sir's voice cracked like a whip, and all indecision and confusion disappeared. Frightened, she spun her back to him.
"Good girl," he said, placing his warm hand on the small of her back, just below her ribs and above her hips. That gentle possessive touch sent of roll of sensation up her spine, out through her breasts and down into her clit. How did he do it? How had her captor made her so wanton? One subject in Elizabeth's Law degree had covered Stockholm Syndrome, also called 'capture-bonding.' She recalled the definition: "Strong emotional ties that develop between two persons where one person intermittently threatens, abuses, or intimidates the other."
Yep, she thought. Talk about 'if the shoe fits.' Except in this case it was more like 'if the handcuff fits', and boy did it fit. Bonded and bound, she felt physically and emotionally attached to her captor.
Elizabeth heard the squirt of Shea butter soap and smelled it once more. He began to message her shoulders and the nape of her neck, in a soothing sensual manner. As he had done with her front, Sir attentively examined and soaped the back of her body, her arms, hips, legs and thighs. She was cold from the freezing water, but his hands warmed her, and from time to time he pressed his firm, broad chest up against her back, heating her both inside and out. It felt divine.
"You see? I make it up to you and warm you once more. This feels nice?"
"Yes, Sir," she breathed.
His hands returned to her ass, his palms and fingers gripped it and she stiffened as she recalled what he had said, "Mon cher, I am glad you are an anal virgin. It will please me to break you in, and make you an anal slut, for you will like my cock in your ass."
Ever attentive, Sir felt her tension under his clever hands, and paused then gave a low chuckle. "Elizabeth," he said as he spread her cheeks, "I only wish to see if there is hair here to shave. I do not fuck your ass right now." He seemed to quietly study her for a moment, one finger lightly stroking between her cleft. "Mais no, so thin and blond," he said. "We can leave this soft hair here to guard its shrine, the entrance to our citadel of pleasure. For we will both receive pleasure from this tight little hole."
He dropped to his knees then and spread her ass cheeks even further apart. Elizabeth felt his breath hot against her skin. He was silent for some time.
"Fuck, you should see this ass. Mon cher, this ass and tight little hole should win a prize, they are both so beautiful." He began to rub a finger along the rim of her anus, never probing within, just circling. Elizabeth pulled away but Sir simply held her hips and pulled her back, so he could continue his actions. Then she remained very still while he touched her, trying to decide if it felt good – him touching this forbidden area of her body, this dark place where it was wrong to enter. It wasn't really bad, it was …interesting.
"Elizabeth," he reminded her, "your body is mine to do with as I please for the next six days." Again she stiffened. "Speak, Elizabeth. Tell me what you are thinking."
"I don’t want that, Sir. I told you. I've never done that."
"Never? Not with anyone?" Sir suddenly tensed, his hands gripping hard against her hips.
"No, Sir."
"Mark never asked to fuck you there?"
"No, Sir!"
"He has never placed anything inside your ass, not a finger, not a thumb?" Sir's tone was one of surprise, and barely concealed untamed excitement. Elizabeth swallowed. She was absolutely certain that the thought of her untouched anus had turned her captor full on - not unlike the ignition sequence for a rocket launch. The man was excited and going to fire. Elizabeth licked her lips and considered that she looked forward to Sir exploding and jetting his hot, thick, strings of cum anywhere he liked - but please God not in her ass!
"Elizabeth?" he said, recalling her to the question.
She cleared her throat. "No, Sir, Mark has never touched me there," she said in a small tight voice. "And I really don’t want you to either. I can't stop you of course, but can't we do other things? Why does it have to be that?"
Clearly amused, he chuckled, and gave her a spank.
"Ouch!" She screamed out loud because it hurt! It was hard enough that she was sure he had left a handprint. He rose and she felt him press up against her, his front to her back. His rigid erection was hard and ready between her buttocks, but he was so warm, and he drew her against him by cupping her breasts, and teasing her nipples.
His face was alongside her cheek as he nuzzled her and said, "Mon cher, I think your husband has been very careful with you. It is because he loves you, I think. Love is a wonderful thing, but it can complicate oh, so much."
The feel of his warm hands upon her, softly stroking combined with his compelling words mesmerized her. "I know what a woman wants," he crooned to her in a soft, sultry voice. "Shall I tell you?" His cologne and the erotic male scent of him came to her nostrils and she breathed in deeply, attempting to compose herself.
When she trembled slightly at his words, but didn't reply he gently squeezed her breasts. "Shall I?"
"Yes," she whispered, "Yes, Sir."
6. What a Woman Wants
He turned the shower nozzle on, briefly rinsed her body, and presumably his own. Whatever he planned, he didn't mean for soap to be a part of it. When he finished he turned off the tap.
"Elizabeth," Sir whispered in his sensual French accent, "Women want a man to lick and suck and squeeze their breasts." He rubbed his erect
ion up against her buttocks, while the fingers of one hand cleverly manipulated one taut nipple, rolling and pulling on it at first gently, and then a bit harder. Elizabeth moaned. His other hand moved down across her flank, and lower. It trailed enticingly between her legs, flicking her clit with his thumb and putting a finger inside her wet pussy. Her body reacted instantly, an uncontrolled reaction, as her spine arched with need.
"Women have unfilled places where they feel so sad, so empty," Sir said in a deep seductive voice, while moving two fingers inside her - in and out, in and out. A flood of arousal covered his fingers, easing his access, making her even slicker. "A woman's sex is one important place, an aching void. Women need to be filled. They want to be stretched and filled by a man's cock." He sucked on her ear, nibbled and kissed and nuzzled her some more, moving his heated male flesh against her, stroking her clit and the inside of her pussy, squeezing each nipple. "Women hunger, mon cher, they need a man's cock."
He brought his hand up to her mouth and she smelled the rich scent of her own juices. "Open up, Elizabeth." She opened her mouth and he placed one finger, covered with her essence between her lips. Without thinking she shut her mouth and began to suck on him, her tongue and jaw working as she sucked.
His soft chuckle was deep with lust. Hard and ready, his rigid erection stroked between her butt cheeks, in a measured, hypnotic manner. "Women have strong oral needs, too. A woman's warm wet mouth is another such empty place, mon cher. You showed me how much you loved sucking my cock this morning, didn't you? You wanted it as much as I did," and then he added, "Do you like it, Elizabeth? I smell your arousal and it makes me so hard that I have been stroking myself against you to ease my need. I find your scent and taste sweet. What does it taste like to you, mon cher?"
"It tastes like me, Sir," she whispered as if not wanting to be overheard. The words this man spoke, in his deep seductive voice thrilled her. They were profound. It was as if she was in a church library, or perhaps confession. She felt in awe, standing in some sacred place where important secrets were discovered or discussed.
Sir's hands grabbed her butt cheeks and squeezed. She tensed. "The ass is the last place, Elizabeth, the last empty place on a woman's body. You do not believe me now, but you will," His voice lowered further, into a sensual whisper. "You will be an anal slut, mon cher, because you are a woman, and because your ass will open for me. I will make you so hot you will beg to be allowed to push your buttocks down against me, to impale yourself upon me. I tell you, you will beg for my cock in your ass, mon cher."
With that, Sir reached up and unhooked her arms from the fastener above her. He was at least a head taller than she was, but at five foot three pretty well everyone was taller than she was. He helped her lower her handcuffs so they rested in front. He had one hand on those cuffs, holding her, controlling her, and with his other hand he drew his knuckles down one cheek in that sexy way of his. His seductive voice, his smell, his actions – everything about him mesmerized her.
"Elizabeth," he said with a dark chuckle. "I swear I will not fuck you in the ass unless you yourself beg for it. And you know that you will." Sir grabbed her chin and gave her a possessive kiss, thrusting his tongue inside and dominating her in a way that made her knees week and her pussy clench with need. Quivering, Elizabeth was unable to subdue her moan.
"Come, mon cher," he said. He uncuffed one wrist and put it around her back, fastening her arms behind her once more. Then, holding her captured hands, he bent her over the raised edge of the tub. In a mindless sexual buzz, Elizabeth hadn't been paying attention. Sir moved her with such speed that she was bent over and restrained before she was aware of it. One strong hand held her cuffed wrists hard against her back, a reminder that she was his prisoner.
The other held her lower, with a firm grip just above the crease of her bottom.
Elizabeth lay on her stomach, over the side of the bathtub as adrenaline spiked through her. Sir's words he had said earlier echoed in her mind: I might choose to bend you over the tub and take you in the ass. Restrained and unable to escape, she was exactly where her captor wanted her.
With her naked ass exposed and vulnerable, sticking up in the air.
7. Anal Play
Not only did she think No! It was more like, HELL NO!
Mortified and embarrassed, Elizabeth had never let any lover examine her ass as he obviously was. She imagined what people would think if they saw her bent over the tub, openly displayed and burned with shame.
"What? What are you doing?" Elizabeth said in a shrill voice, and then remembering his laws she added, "Sir, may I speak?"
"Not now, Elizabeth, and I mean it. You will remain silent for I am speaking now. I warned you that I am going to make you do things that you will not want to do. This is one of them, but it will not be so very bad."
She struggled against him but he held her down with one knee, and reached for something nearby. Elizabeth felt him stretch, felt his knee press with more pressure against her back. Then something came up against her asshole, it was wet and lubricated, some sort of rubber device. Panicked, she thrashed and struggled even more.
"Obey me," he growled.
"I don’t want it. I don't!"
"You are a bad girl, Elizabeth, and I shall have to punish you," he said, his tone filled with disapproval and sinister intent.
Sir brought her up and over his lap then, and slapped her butt hard with one firm hand. She screamed and thrashed and he pinned her down with one of his legs and strong thighs covering her legs, and one hand at the nape of her neck. She tried to buck, but found herself immobilized, shaking with fear, or anger, or anxiety – she wasn't sure exactly, perhaps all three. But whatever it was, it was an overwhelming, fierce emotion.
Her face felt hot as Sir's left hand rested on one exposed butt cheek for a moment. "Prepare yourself, Elizabeth," he said.
Crack!
His shockingly hard palm descended at speed with a resounding smack. Elizabeth shrieked as an intense pulse of pain rolled through her, taking her breath away. Merciless and implacable he continued to spank her, left cheek, then the right, alternating his blows. A number of hard strikes, one after another rained down upon her unprotected flesh, and she squirmed and yelped and cried like a baby. It really, really hurt. But it also, in a weird way, didn't. Her belly clenched and her pussy throbbed and seriously, she didn't actually like him spanking her, did she?
"Please, please stop, Sir," she wailed. It was embarrassing, it was demeaning, her eyes filled with tears and she felt like a child. Sir ran his hand over her trembling butt cheeks, soothing the pain. "I did not intend to spank you, mon cher, but you must not disobey me. Will you behave?" He squeezed her smarting flesh, "Or shall I give you more?"
She gasped, "I… I'll do as you say, Sir."
"Good girl," he said, once more smoothing his hand over her punished and sore bottom. She felt it flinch and quiver at his touch. He held her hands that had been cuffed behind her, restraining them against her back, making his point: I am in control of you.
"Stay here, on my lap," he said. "This is better. Do you remain still now?" he asked.
"Yes, Sir."
"Bon." He took his thigh off her leg, unpinning her, trusting that she would wait submissively on his lap as she had agreed to do. Then he blew on her sore ass cheeks, soothing them with a gentle caress. "Your white skin is very pink, mon cher," he said, continuing to stroke and fondle her buttocks. "I can see my handprints where I have marked you. Mon Dieu, spanking you has made me hard as stone." He blew out a deep, lust filled breath. "Spread your legs, Elizabeth," he ordered, and she did as he asked instantly, without one single thought to disobey him.
"You are so very good, mon cher," he crooned affectionately in his deep sexy voice, as he trailed his hand up to stroke between her legs. "And wet. I think you did not dislike your spanking so very much." He used his fingers to message her clit, and placed his thumb deep in her slick channel. Elizabeth gasped. Automatically her pussy
tightened around his thumb, and his approving chuckle was dark and erotic. He rubbed his engorged cock up against her hip, and said, "I will need you soon, mon cher. I will use your body to quench this fire, this lust that you have created."
Elizabeth noticed that his French accent always seemed stronger and he used more French words when his cock was rock hard, so she wasn't surprised when added, "Will you be pleased à remplir…to satisfy me, Elizabeth?"
She swallowed. "Yes, Sir. I…want to satisfy you." It was so weird, but she really did. She wanted to please her kidnapper.
He cupped her face. "Mon cher, je vous assure, the wait is difficult for us both." Using both hands he spread the burning cheeks of her buttock, exposing the tender inner flesh. "Be still now while I take my pleasure, for j'adore your virgin hole." He pressed a finger just inside the rim, as if wanting to show her exactly what he liked. Then he firmly held her butt cheeks apart and bit her on the sensitive inner flesh. He began his unique biting progression once more, taking a fold of skin, licking and teasing with soft caresses of his tongue, sucking hard enough to probably leave a bruise and then letting it go. It was exactly as he had done with her inner thighs and pussy, and the thought of that ratcheted her arousal, creating a warm, sensual buzz. Sir bit, teased, licked, and caressed, and each time he circled, moved closer to her anus.
Tense and frightened of anal violation, Sir's actions, so methodical, sensual and predicable put her once more into a submissive headspace. It all felt so good, but why, she couldn't say. He spoke to her, soft erotic words when he wasn't biting, and his voice carried a compelling charisma. Elizabeth couldn't help but curl around his strong male legs, pressing her face up against him, her cheek rubbing against skin and coarse male leg hair. She felt as if she was melting – or perhaps floating. Her captor was strong and domineering - in command of her every movement, and if this moment could last forever she would probably be glad of it. Never had she felt so untroubled, because all of the choices were his.