strayangel
12-20-2008, 12:52 AM
She thought she would slide all the way into the water but he held her tight by the hair. "Shut up!" he growled, and since she was still struggling the best she could he slapped her a third time right on her mouth causing her head to reel. She stopped trying to scream and looked up at him with great fear in her eyes. He pulled the plug out of the tub.
"Be still and do as your told," he whispered as he pulled her up close to his face by her hair. His grip on her hair was so tight that she was afraid that he would pull it out, so she stopped struggling.
Then he took her face in his free hand and squeezed her cheeks so hard she couldn’t help letting out a little squeal. "I've been watching you slut, and I see from the little set up in your living room that you know what being a filthy whore is all about don’t you?"
Cher didn’t answer and the stranger shook her by her hair pulling it even harder and slapped her face again. "Don’t you?" he demanded again.
"Yes Sir," she whimpered.
"That's right. Call me Sir bitch, and don’t forget it," he said in a hoarse whisper.
"Yes Sir," she repeated. She was trying to identify his voice but the whisper was so low that she could not make it out.
With a vice like grip still on her hair the stranger pulled her up a little and reached around her waist with his free hand. With one smooth move he lifted her up to a sitting position on the side of the tub. Then with strong arms he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder as if she was weightless. That got her attention then, and she relaxed a little.
The only one she knew who was strong enough to lift her was her Sir. With a little private smile she began to think that it must be him, and that this was the kidnapping scene she had wished for. She let him carry her into the living room and only struggled a little to give him the impression that she still thought he was the stranger.
When he got her into the living room he unceremoniously threw her to the floor. She landed with a thud and before she knew what was happening he had rolled her on to her stomach and put his knee, with all his weight, painfully in the small of her back. She cried out as he grabbed one of her wrists and twisted her arm behind her back. He snapped a handcuff on her wrist and quickly twisted the other arm snapping the second cuff on as well.
"There you fucking bitch, now stay put if you know what is good for you," he growled in her ear. He yanked her head up by her hair again. This time there was forcefulness and violence in his movements that she had never experienced with her Sir. She was alarmed.
Her arms were hurting from the rough treatment and she tried to wriggle out from under him but he slapped her hard on the back of her head then before she could move again he stood up and stepped on her head pushing her face down on the carpet. Her face and nose were burning from the friction of the carpet and she was suddenly afraid because she could not move enough to get her breath.
She opened her mouth and gasped. He pushed on her head harder forcing her face even further down on the carpet. Now she was unable to move or breathe. Alarmed, she started kicking her feet and trying in vain to move her head out from under his foot.
"Listen you cock sucking bitch," he said in a rasping voice, "I told you to stop and if you ever want to breath again you will stop struggling now or your man will be ordering a casket for Christmas. Believe me you are going to get fucked tonight dead or alive, and I don’t much care which. You are mine now and I am going to do whatever I wish with your useless cunt. Do you understand whore?"
Cher was afraid to respond and she was running out of air. She used all her will power to lay still and not struggle, but she was running out of air. "Is this it?" she wondered, "Is this how I will end my life? Please God, no. I must survive to see my Sir once again."
She was about to give up but as soon as she stopped struggling the stranger lifted his foot enough for her to start breathing again. She could feel the hot tears forming in her eyes. This could not possibly be her beloved Sir. He had never been this violent with her.
A sinking feeling took over her mind as she began to really fear for her life. If this was not her Sir who could it possibly be? And what was he planning to do? She loved her Sir and she had learned to trust him. She was willing to submit to anything He wanted because He had always taken care not to harm her, but she felt sure now that this stranger was not Him and that he would not care if he really hurt her. Trying to hold back her tears so the stranger would not see how afraid she was she willed her whole body to go limp and she laid as still as she could.
"That's better," he said. Then he rolled her over with his foot. She looked at him with great fear in her eyes. He kicked her thigh with the toe of his big thick black boot. "Don’t look at me you dam fuck bitch," he growled and kicked her again.
"Yes Sir," she said as she lowered her eyes from his face. However, she could see everything else about him very clearly and was disappointed to find that there was simply nothing to distinguish him from anyone she knew.
The stranger stooped down and grabbed her smooth shaven cunt with his hand and squeezed it hard. Cher stifled a painful groan.
This man was beyond rough she thought. Holding her cunt tightly in one hand he reached across and slapped her face again. "You will do exactly as I say do you understand slut?" Then from nowhere he produced a switchblade about six inches long and flipped it open with a click.
Cher's eyes widened, "Yesss Sir," she whined as she choked back a sob.
She was terrified as the man held the razor sharp blade to her cheek. He ran the blade over her cheek and slid it under her chin until it rested at her throat. Pressing down just enough for her to feel the pressure on her skin, he pressed the tip down on the middle of her neck. It hurt and she was afraid of feeling the puncture of skin and hot blood flowing from her. But then he moved the tip of the blade down the front of her chest and ran it around the outside of one of her breasts.
"Nice tits," he mumbled with an evil little chuckle, "How about if I cut this sweet little nipple off Pet?" The word Pet sent a chill down her spine. Her Sir was the only one who used that term with her. She strained to identify his voice again but he only used the low raspy voice from before.
"Please let it be Sir playing a prank on me," she thought.
Then the stranger pushed the tip of the blade up under the edge of her nipple and scrapped it up lifting the entire breast a little with the metal edge. Cher held her breath thinking he would surely tear the tender skin. This surely could not be her Sir because he would never cut her.
The stranger scrapped the nipple up and down and then went to the other nipple scrapping it harder than he did the first one. She caught her breath again. Then he ran the tip of the blade down the middle of her stomach and on down to her naked cunt. She watched him breathlessly as he ran the blade around her pubic area in little circles. Once he pressed a little harder and she half stifled a groan. The eyes behind the mask became hard and cold as he pressed the tip down harder.
She held her breath, but the man was not cutting her so she thought maybe it was her Sir trying to thrill her with a good scare, a mind fuck, as he would call it. She told herself that this must be her Sir and that she was safe. She relaxed a little and chanced a look at his face. She half expected to recognize a smiling glint in his eyes for her. This must be Sir.
... to be continued
"Be still and do as your told," he whispered as he pulled her up close to his face by her hair. His grip on her hair was so tight that she was afraid that he would pull it out, so she stopped struggling.
Then he took her face in his free hand and squeezed her cheeks so hard she couldn’t help letting out a little squeal. "I've been watching you slut, and I see from the little set up in your living room that you know what being a filthy whore is all about don’t you?"
Cher didn’t answer and the stranger shook her by her hair pulling it even harder and slapped her face again. "Don’t you?" he demanded again.
"Yes Sir," she whimpered.
"That's right. Call me Sir bitch, and don’t forget it," he said in a hoarse whisper.
"Yes Sir," she repeated. She was trying to identify his voice but the whisper was so low that she could not make it out.
With a vice like grip still on her hair the stranger pulled her up a little and reached around her waist with his free hand. With one smooth move he lifted her up to a sitting position on the side of the tub. Then with strong arms he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder as if she was weightless. That got her attention then, and she relaxed a little.
The only one she knew who was strong enough to lift her was her Sir. With a little private smile she began to think that it must be him, and that this was the kidnapping scene she had wished for. She let him carry her into the living room and only struggled a little to give him the impression that she still thought he was the stranger.
When he got her into the living room he unceremoniously threw her to the floor. She landed with a thud and before she knew what was happening he had rolled her on to her stomach and put his knee, with all his weight, painfully in the small of her back. She cried out as he grabbed one of her wrists and twisted her arm behind her back. He snapped a handcuff on her wrist and quickly twisted the other arm snapping the second cuff on as well.
"There you fucking bitch, now stay put if you know what is good for you," he growled in her ear. He yanked her head up by her hair again. This time there was forcefulness and violence in his movements that she had never experienced with her Sir. She was alarmed.
Her arms were hurting from the rough treatment and she tried to wriggle out from under him but he slapped her hard on the back of her head then before she could move again he stood up and stepped on her head pushing her face down on the carpet. Her face and nose were burning from the friction of the carpet and she was suddenly afraid because she could not move enough to get her breath.
She opened her mouth and gasped. He pushed on her head harder forcing her face even further down on the carpet. Now she was unable to move or breathe. Alarmed, she started kicking her feet and trying in vain to move her head out from under his foot.
"Listen you cock sucking bitch," he said in a rasping voice, "I told you to stop and if you ever want to breath again you will stop struggling now or your man will be ordering a casket for Christmas. Believe me you are going to get fucked tonight dead or alive, and I don’t much care which. You are mine now and I am going to do whatever I wish with your useless cunt. Do you understand whore?"
Cher was afraid to respond and she was running out of air. She used all her will power to lay still and not struggle, but she was running out of air. "Is this it?" she wondered, "Is this how I will end my life? Please God, no. I must survive to see my Sir once again."
She was about to give up but as soon as she stopped struggling the stranger lifted his foot enough for her to start breathing again. She could feel the hot tears forming in her eyes. This could not possibly be her beloved Sir. He had never been this violent with her.
A sinking feeling took over her mind as she began to really fear for her life. If this was not her Sir who could it possibly be? And what was he planning to do? She loved her Sir and she had learned to trust him. She was willing to submit to anything He wanted because He had always taken care not to harm her, but she felt sure now that this stranger was not Him and that he would not care if he really hurt her. Trying to hold back her tears so the stranger would not see how afraid she was she willed her whole body to go limp and she laid as still as she could.
"That's better," he said. Then he rolled her over with his foot. She looked at him with great fear in her eyes. He kicked her thigh with the toe of his big thick black boot. "Don’t look at me you dam fuck bitch," he growled and kicked her again.
"Yes Sir," she said as she lowered her eyes from his face. However, she could see everything else about him very clearly and was disappointed to find that there was simply nothing to distinguish him from anyone she knew.
The stranger stooped down and grabbed her smooth shaven cunt with his hand and squeezed it hard. Cher stifled a painful groan.
This man was beyond rough she thought. Holding her cunt tightly in one hand he reached across and slapped her face again. "You will do exactly as I say do you understand slut?" Then from nowhere he produced a switchblade about six inches long and flipped it open with a click.
Cher's eyes widened, "Yesss Sir," she whined as she choked back a sob.
She was terrified as the man held the razor sharp blade to her cheek. He ran the blade over her cheek and slid it under her chin until it rested at her throat. Pressing down just enough for her to feel the pressure on her skin, he pressed the tip down on the middle of her neck. It hurt and she was afraid of feeling the puncture of skin and hot blood flowing from her. But then he moved the tip of the blade down the front of her chest and ran it around the outside of one of her breasts.
"Nice tits," he mumbled with an evil little chuckle, "How about if I cut this sweet little nipple off Pet?" The word Pet sent a chill down her spine. Her Sir was the only one who used that term with her. She strained to identify his voice again but he only used the low raspy voice from before.
"Please let it be Sir playing a prank on me," she thought.
Then the stranger pushed the tip of the blade up under the edge of her nipple and scrapped it up lifting the entire breast a little with the metal edge. Cher held her breath thinking he would surely tear the tender skin. This surely could not be her Sir because he would never cut her.
The stranger scrapped the nipple up and down and then went to the other nipple scrapping it harder than he did the first one. She caught her breath again. Then he ran the tip of the blade down the middle of her stomach and on down to her naked cunt. She watched him breathlessly as he ran the blade around her pubic area in little circles. Once he pressed a little harder and she half stifled a groan. The eyes behind the mask became hard and cold as he pressed the tip down harder.
She held her breath, but the man was not cutting her so she thought maybe it was her Sir trying to thrill her with a good scare, a mind fuck, as he would call it. She told herself that this must be her Sir and that she was safe. She relaxed a little and chanced a look at his face. She half expected to recognize a smiling glint in his eyes for her. This must be Sir.
... to be continued