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bulldog080808 -> Jake Chapter Five (2/7/2010 6:33:17 AM)
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“Master, why do you keep doing this to me?”
Her question was more of a pleading then a need for an answer; her voice weak and just down to a whisper.
Time was vacant to her as she had no way of telling of its passing. The light over her beamed down constantly; there were no windows to see a sunrise or sunset. Sounds of the outside were kept from her by the thick walls of the cellar she was imprisoned in. Only the dripping of water coming off the wall kept her company during the times he was away and she was awake; hitting the floor every sixty-five seconds, according to her count.
She had repeatedly gone in and out of consciousness depending on the pain that he inflicted upon her. He seemed to know exactly what it took to cause the black-outs and knew what to do too revive her. She knew by his actions and his care of her wounds she wasn’t his first captive. Her body did its best to protect her from him, passing out when the pain seemed unbearable but even that was getting to be further and further between times. Her defenses were wearing down from the seemingly constant affect of pain upon her.
She was able to move her head around and her eyes had adjusted to take in the room that kept her. She was strapped to some sort of chair she knew she never saw in any store; its features odd except for the purpose of her ordeal now. It was like an exam table from a gynecologist office in that her legs where in stirrups spreading her open fully exposing her but unlike the doctors table, her legs were pointing almost vertical to the ceiling; putting her body into the most vulnerable position possible. Her back was lower at the head which arched her belly towards the ceiling. A padded bar supported her neck but left her head almost floating in air. It was designed this way she knew to be level to his groin which has positioned itself several times in perfect alignment for the best access down her throat for him.
The last visit by her captor had almost killed her from suffocation. His cum had dried over her nose blocking the air passage from his previous visit anytime his cock filled her mouth. Had she not calmed her fears during the fucking of her mouth she surely would have gagged to death. Although the thought of biting off his dick ventured into her mind each time, he had well prepared for that by inserting a metal tasting device that kept her from biting down but allowed for just enough movement of her lips to close around his manhood to provide the suction he wanted.
Only once could she recall being washed by him and only then it was a half hearted sponge bath. A bucket had been put in place just under her to keep the body waste from spilling onto the floor as when that was required. She had been given some food although not recognizing the taste and a straw had been positioned near her mouth so she could pull a liquid from a water bottle.
Basically she knew her position allow him to have access to her for whatever he wanted to do. If he wanted her to suck his dick, she was exactly at the height so to give him the least trouble. If he decided to fuck her, her legs were out of the way. If the urge to whip her was his desire, it was fully exposed for that or his lustful pounding of her ass. She was in the perfect chair for his sadistic urges as long as the comfort level of those who sat in it wasn’t a concern.
“Because I can.” She heard the reply which she didn’t expect.
She thought, “He’s talking to me.”
Repeatedly she had tried to start a conversation hoping to make a mental contact with her captor in hopes of convincing him to release her. Her promises not to tell anyone had gone un-answered. Her crying had only brought on a swift beating from him.
“My name is Vicky, Master.”
Finally, she spoke her name to him. She wanted to personalize their contact. If he, she thought, could think of her as a person, maybe just maybe, she could rely on the decent nature that was in everyone to come to her aide.
The smack of the whip across her ass reminded her she had asked a question without properly doing so by his previous instructions.
“Master?” She tried again, remembering the way he wanted it done.
“Can I ask a question please?”
The silence was almost as bad as the whip as she waited for a response, her body tensing for a blow from him.
“Yes. You may ask a question.”
His voice was calm not rough as she had imagined it would be. Actually it surprised her as it sounded so normal; like a voice that might be heard in any mall or function. In her mind his voice had to sound evil for the things he did to her; not like a neighbor next door.
She hadn’t expected a reply as he had never responded before and it caught her by surprise; now her question fled from her. Her mind wrestled in anguish trying to remember it. She started to cry thinking the amount of time to respond was rapidly disappearing; her chance to survive going with it.
“Am I going to live through this?”
There it was. It just came out from nowhere and even surprised her by the calm in her own voice.
Tears running into her hair as she knew the answer before she even asked it. But for some reason she had to hear it. Now she wondered if he would lie or tell her the truth. Lie to give her false hope continuing fucking with her mind even more or tell her the truth, to finally break her spirit with the reality of her demise.
“Why should you live? You are just like the other bitches.”
“No! I am not Master!”
“Really? And what makes you different?”
What could she say ran through her? This was a chance she hoped for, prayed for. She knew pleading for her life was anyone’s first instinct so she forced herself to think of what he might want to hear.
“Because I desire to serve you better Master.”
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