Entangled [closed for ezwriter]

[ezwriter]

Moments ago, when Kendall's inclination had been far less insolent, she had taken a good deal of care to my undressing, laying my clothes carefully and neatly over a nearby upholstered armchair. That's what allowed me to snatch up belt so quickly. I grabbed the wide leather strap that was folded in two over my pants as I wheeled and clenched her curls in my fist.

Surprised at my quick response or perhaps by the brazenness of her own refusal, Kendall did not react as I brought the stiff doubled leather belt down swiftly across her ass. She shrieked in pain, but the next blow was already being delivered. The second of five quick severe lashings I'd administer to her firm sweet ass.

"This is for wasting my time," I hissed as my hand brought the belt whistling through the air with a crack on her reddening rear.

Her shrieks and her sobs filled the living room, and that was fine. My neighbors were off to work - a daytime silence and isolation I relished for my days of work... and my daytime pleasures.

As she reached her hand back to fend off another blow, I grabbed her forearm strongly and then gathered up her wrist, crossing and pinning them against her back in one hand while my other hand wound the belt through the buckle, looping it around her crossed wrists before finally cinching it tightly with the tab through the eyelet.

"And this is for being such an insolent little bitch."

Kendall, balanced awkwardly on her knees with her hands bound behind her back, fell forward as I grabbed her by the hair and brought her face down to the cold gobs of my cum congealing on the floor. I pressed her lips into the thick splatter and swabbed the floor with her mouth. Whether she opened her mouth to lick it, I didn't care. I dragged her face the length of the trail that I'd ejaculated moments earlier, then threw her down, prostrated on the floor in my cum.

"Who do you think you are, girl? You're the help. You're the maid. I make a mess, you clean it up. Or are you too good for that?!"

 

[impatient]

Face… cold and wet…throbbing pain right shoulder…backside burning….my mind processing bodily parts and senses….As my head clears, I realize where I am- Face down on the hardwood floor laying in puddles of Jackson’s cum.

“Jackson, pleeassse!” I shriek, and continue to shamelessly sob lying prostrate on the floor, writhing as best as I can with my arms pinioned together. What I must look like, I’m thinking. But that is second to the raw emotion coming up from my gut, in absolute disbelief that he would do such a thing. “How...how…could you?” I holler, more an accusation than question.

My voice stills, as it takes all my energy to fill my lungs. My body strewn on the floor in such an awkward position with my arms unable to support me, I collapse in defeat.

 

[ezwriter]

Kendall's mouth pleased me a lot more when it was attending to my cock, balls and ass than when it was mewling some whiney, pathetic protest. I found her panties on the floor and, holding her nose shut and steadying her squirming head, managed to cram them past her cum-smeared lips.

When my visitor was slilenced - or at least muffled - a sorry wreck with her hands bound and her cheek sliding in a slick of my jam - I phone the bookstore and told them Ms. Moore was having some car trouble and might be delayed awhile, and not to expect her soon. I apologized for the trouble I caused and did convey how sorry Kendall was that she'd be tied up for the afternoon.

I hung up the phone and returned to the petulant young woman on my floor.

"Come with me," I bade her, clenching my fist in her curls and marching across the wooden floor. Without use of her hands, Kendall slid on her knees across the oak surface. When we got to the hallway where the carpeting began she was forced to clamber awkwardly on her knees.

We moved down the corridor until I reached the spare bedroom. Turning the knob with one hand, I dragged Kendall inside and flicked on the lights. She would see the room outfitted with special apparatus: pulleys on the ceiling threaded with ropes, manacles bolted into wall brackets at various heights and one in the center of the floor, a gynecologist's examination chair I found on EBay, a long wooden table and several cabinets against the wall for assorted paraphenalia.

I marched her to one wall and faced her toward it, her body struggling, writhing again as I held her in place. Loosening the rope fastened on a halyard in the wall, a leather collar clipped to the rope lowered from the cieling. Slipping the collar around Kendall's neck I clasped it behind her and tugged gently on the rope, the tension and my grip in her hair pulling her up, raising her up on her knees, he bound hands falling to the small of her back. Her spine straightened,the collar held her upright and kneeling for me, faced to the wall, as I wound the rope once more over the halyard cinching it in place.

"Now, Ms. Moore... Now I will give you time to think about how a guest should behave when she's a visitor in someone's house. I was sorely, sorely disappointed by your demeanor just then. And after it seemed we'd hit it off so well. When I return, we will try again. Until then, I have writing to do."

I crossed out of the room and turned off the lights. I'd installed thick black double shades and blinds for privacy. So when I shut the door behind me... the room would be quite dark.

 

[impatient]

Had I been angry before? That was a minor irritation to what I was feeling now…

How dare he! Who does he think he is? Gagging me with my own panties, tying me up, collared and bound to the wall…in the dark no less. I hate him!

What am I going to do now? How long is he going to leave me here? I started to sob again…what have I done? I’m sure my husband will be wondering where I am eventually…

If Jackson thinks that this…this…whatever he is doing to me right now is going to endear me to him, he has another thing coming….Is he just going to torture me until I submit? Fine, I will eventually give in to the pain, but it won’t make me want him. And to think that it had been going so well…I thought he could fulfill my needs, but maybe he doesn’t know me as well as he thinks he does…..

 

[ezwriter]

Time slows down when one is left with little to do but wait. Kendall's anger wouldn't last long. Her futile seething and pointless rebellion would quickly subside in the dark, empty chamber. Replaced with what? Uncertainty. Helplessness. Fear. Regret. Loneliness. Self-recriminations. Fear. Muscle discomfort. Thirst. Humiliation. Depression. Fear.

No. The book shop knew she's driven up here. If she'd disappeared this would be the first place they'd look. Her car was here. Her clothes. Or they were. Jackson was out there on the other side of the door with her clothes, her keys, her handbag, her phone with all of her personal data. Suddenly she felt even more naked, more violated, more victimized.

A new wave of anger... then more sadness, loneliness, helplessness,desperation, the unalleviated ache in her knees and back as labors in this forced upright kneeling posture for... for how long now?

Twenty minutes.

Jackson was back in his study typing away at his computer, well into Chapter 3 of his latest. His dealings with Kendall this morning - not entirely unpleasant - had pushed his writing schedule back. Diligence was a major part of writing, he'd once been told, and it had proven to be true. He complete his two hour morning of work before taking a break to check on his visitor. Today it would likely be an extended break. This one was feisty indeed.

When the timer sounded, Jackson finished the paragraph he was working on - a passage where his blackmailed heroine was being coerced into snapping some rather compromising photos of herself - and hit SAVE.

He rose and exited into the hall, striding down the hardwood floor till he reached the spare room and turned the handle.

Kendall turned her head toward him as he entered and slid the door shut behind him, sealing out the first light she'd seen in hours.

She could feel her move towards him.

"Now Kendall," he spoke. "You came back here on your own accord, and entered into a tacit agreement about how our relationship might develop. Now, suddenly, is this reluctance on your part? If so, I won't abide a waste of my time. Or maybe you're dull and don't understand how these affairs are conducted. In which case, I will teach you. Trust me, I can teach even the stupidest girls. Or perhaps this is a game you're playing. Believe me, it's a game that I will win, darling.

His hand flashes out now in the darkness, swinging in a low arc that catches Kendall's breasts as they hang from her chest. His hand continues to the other side and back, smacking, stinging her tits with the back of his fingers. And again, and fourth time, swatting the tender flesh with such suddenness and force, Kendall gasps through her makeshift gag.

"Impolite guests are treated accordingly, darling," he cautions. "But I'm not such an inconsiderate host. Here. Lunchtime."

In the dark, the rustle of his hands on his belt and the jangle of it unclasping, the zip of his fly and now his pants opening, sliding down his thighs.

The thick blunt knob of Jackson's erection is pressing her lips now, and he is saying, "Be a good girl and finish your lunch, and perhaps I'll let you sit with Me while I work later. Would you like that? Or would you like to stay in your room this afternoon?"

 

[impatient]

Working at the bookstore afforded me time to indulge in a favorite guilty pleasure. Reading has always been a passion of mine, and I almost considered not taking the job at Stormys. I didn’t want it to ruin my love for books, the daily tasks making it pure drudgery to come to work. I needed have worried; it only fed my addiction- almost like a junkie to a meth lab. I read everything I could get my hands on, from Tolstoy to Nietzsche, world news to Harlequin romance- you name it. I was a good student in school, doing fairly decent without having to study. But despite my intelligence and being rather well-read, I could never shake the childlike innocence that has followed me throughout my life. And how I have tried!

I always believed that people had the best intentions; gave everyone the benefit of the doubt, what have you….

That is what made it almost impossible to comprehend the situation that I have found myself in. Locked in a dark room, gagged and bound to the wall, a hard leather collar with chain holding me upright on my knees. Can this really be happening?

Sensory deprivation is an amazing thing. The strongest individuals can be broken down in a mere 15 minutes, and I was no different. My legs felt like I was kneeling on pencils, along with numerous body aches and needs. The silence and darkness was excruciating and I could easily see how captors become protectors in the kidnapped mind.

So when the door finally opened, the light and his voice were an absolute treasure and I was completely broken. Even his biting swats on my breasts were a welcomed touch.

"Be a good girl and finish your lunch, and perhaps I'll let you sit with Me while I work later. Would you like that? Or would you like to stay in your room this afternoon?"

I needed not a second to decide. I spit out my panties and placed my lips around his crown, swallowing the sweet nectar he fed me as if I had been deprived of water for days.

“Master…” I whimpered.

 

[ezwriter]

Kendall sucked with reverence and need. The hunger with which she coaxed the cum from Jackson's balls was far more than a physical one. And when he did release, she swallowed his seed down, relishing the thick salty gobs that filled her mouth.

He takes her chin in his hand and turns her eyes up to his, looking down on her from such a great distance.

" 'Master,' yes," he tells her. "Much better than 'no'. I won't 'no' from you anymore will I, girl? I trust not. I have just a few more hours with you today. Let's try to make them productive. You're no use to me bound up in your chamber, but I will return you here at any time if that insolent attitude returns. Understand?"

"Let's get you outfitted," Jackson smiled and patted Kendall's cheek, moving away from her to a far wall where some apparatus hung from pegs on the wall above a cabinet. In the dim light and with Jackson's large body blocking her view, Kendall could not see, only hear what he was up to. There was metallic clinking and rifling through a drawer... small clipped annunciations as Jackson selected some items.

There were small distinct clatter as Jackson placed each item in turn onto the metal tray of a rolling cart, which he now wheeled across the floor toward her. The height of the tray was above Kendall's eye level so she could only guess what awaited her.

Jackson spoke to her as he fitted her with the items. The ball gag first: a yellow rubber orb secured into a nylon strap harness that he pressed between her teeth then cinched behind her head.

"Every artist needs a muse, as you know, Kendall. In my field of writing you can imagine it's especially important... to keep the creative juices flowing as it were...."

He was careful in securing the nipple clamps onto her, taking hold of each of her pink tender tips between thumb and forefinger and stretching them sufficiently for the teeth of the clip to take hold. The chain was a medium gauge steel that hung in an elegant catenary between her clamped tits.

"The other side of that coin is that there's a fine line in the world of erotica between being inspired and distracted..."

Jackson placed a blindfold over Kendall's eyes and secured that too behind her head. Now his hands moved down to release the clasp that fastened her collar to the upright cable extending to the ceiling. With his finger in the D clasp of the collar he helped her lower her face to the floor, the release from being held a upright, no doubt a welcome relief.

"When the passages I'm writing get me aroused, I work faster and I know my book will excite my audience as well..."

He replaced the belt that bound her hands behind her back with velcro wrist cuffs.

"But working with an erection for too long, as you can imagine, becomes distracting and I need to relieve that tension..."

On her knees with her face to the floor, Kendall's rear presented prominently. Jackson squeezed a dollop of lube into the pink puckered entrance of her rectum and slowly but steadily worked the knob of the anal plug against it.

"Let this in, darling," he told her.

"Of course I can jerk myself off into a wad of tissues, but that gets old pretty fast. I found it much more enjoyable to cum into the mouth or cunt or ass of an assistant. ...And that's you. Judging from the way you scarfed down your lunch, I think you'll work out. There."

The thick latex plug was buried deep in Kendall's ass. She had very little time to adjust to the intrusion before she felt a new pull at her collar as Jackson affixed a lead to the clasp and coaxed her forward.

"Let's get to work."

Without the use of her hands, Kendall could at best inch forward knee by knee, her cheek and tits sliding against the cold wood floor as her new Master led her out of 'her room' into the hallway and turning there after a long ten feet into Jackson's carpeted office.

He led and prodded and positioned her under his desk. Then he dropped the lead and she could hear him settle into a thick leather chair and begin to click away at the keyboard. The bottoms and insoles of his boots occasionally pressing, sliding across and resting on her legs and back.

 

[impatient]

It took everything in me not to cry….

I could feel the sobs welling up in my chest, and could only watch as silent tears fell on the carpet under me, the tiny balls of liquid eventually disappearing in the blonde fibers- so apropos.

Plugged, stifled..My identity gone- now a mere footstool.

My breathing became more and more labored as the panic inside me rose. Keep your cool, Kendall, I thought and tried to think of being anywhere but here, under his boots. The bookstore and my life seemed miles away but my mind kept trying to imagine me there. My hum-drum life looked idyllic to me now, and I cursed myself for wanting something different. This was not at all what I had imagined. It can’t go on like this….how does he honestly expect me to want to stay? Or does that even matter? I scoffed internally.

 

[ezwriter]

The new one shifted restlessly underfoot, trembling, sometimes sobbing, her body tense and resistant to its new restraints, insults and penetration. He wouldn't have her for long today, but that was fine. Whether it was her exquisite body stripped and bound beneath his desk or just a particularly juicy bit of Chapter 3, Jackson found his dick rising up stiffly inside his pants once again as he described the seduction of one suburban soccer mom of another, with a promising new storyline to follow in the pages ahead.

He checked the clock. It was 2:30. Saving his work, he rolled his chair back and took hold of the lead that hung from Kendall's collar and coaxed her to the center of the room. He unfastened the velcro closure of the blindfold he'd placed over her eyes and, taking hold of the chain depending from her clamped nipples pulled her upright on her knees.

Kendall found herself in Jackson's study, kneeling in front of a mirror., the author standing over her, unbuckling and unzipping his pants and now sliding his pants once more down to his knees. This time, it was her magnificent tits he wanted for his dick. As he unclamped them, the blood would flow back into the bruised-purple nipples and she would give a muffled yelp of pain through the ball gag.

"If you discharge these duties to my satisfaction, I'll find you more responsibilities to take on. For now, you're my cumslut Kendall. You start at the bottom, like everyone else."

Taking her mounds in his hands,he wrapped them around his gorged shaft and humped her chest as she kneeled helplessly awaiting the thick hot jets of cum he'd soon discharge onto her chest and neck and tits.

When he was done with her, he wiped the last drops of semen off onto her cheek. Then he zipped back up and reached around her to uncuff her wrists.

"You're dismissed for today. You'll return the apparatus to your room, washing thoroughly what needs it. You'll find your clothing folded neatly there. And you'll see yourself out Tomorrow, you'll call to schedule your next visit. Good day, Kendall.

Jackson left the room, leaving her alone. No. Not alone at all. Left her to face herself in the mirror, gagged and clamped and plugged.

 

[impatient]

“Motverphfuckeer!” Kendall mumbled as best she could under the ball gag. She immediately undid the straps and inhaled long and deep, finally able to take in some air. Kendall bore down, grimacing as she did so and expelled the anal plug. The collar was the last restraint she had to remove-and God, did it feel good to be free!

The mirror showed a very different Kendall- this one a battered, disillusioned, cum soaked mess compared with the confident, beautiful and sexually excited woman who first arrived.

That which doesn’t kill us will make us stronger though, she thought.

Kendall reached over Jackson’s desk to grab a wad of tissues and wiped off the cold goo that splattered her chest and face. She shuddered.

Picking up the restraints and paraphernalia, she glanced around the room once more and sighed. Tip-toeing down the hallway so as not to draw any more attention, she entered “her room” and quietly washed the hardware. Her thoughts were racing, while memories of this horrifying encounter flashed in her mind. She shook her head, as if the images would all stop and sprinkle out, never bothering her again.

She dressed quickly, feeling more and more like the Kendall she knew and loved.
Almost there, she thought, her heart thumping - freedom nearly in sight.
She had just passed his office door, and paused. She smiled. Jackson’s computer was lightly humming-in all the excitement he had forgotten to turn it off. “I think it’s time that Jackson learns a thing or two about me,” she whispered, calculating her next move.

She walked over to his desk, sat down and jimmied the mouse, realizing that he was just sitting here not too long ago, and she was shackled under the desk. She felt it necessary to slide down in her seat, using her feet to jockey the footstool just out of reach on the floor, and nudge it forward under her heels- vindicated. "Footstool, HA!" she uttered.

She googled the words that replayed in her head, the words that she thought Jackson needed to read and hopefully ponder. She clicked on a word document, copied and pasted the definition, and left it up in big bold letters.

~Power Exchange - a relationship or activity in which the submissive gives to the dominant partner power and authority over the submissive's body in exchange for the submissive's happiness and health.

She exited the house, got in her car and sped away, relishing her freedom as she looked in the rear view mirror and saw Jackson’s house getting smaller and smaller, until it was gone. Kendall inhaled deeply and released. Her entire body relaxed and she smiled. It’s over.