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Behind closed Doors (Lily X QB

Melissa Winford stumbled away from her car. She'd seen the chimney in the distance, and it would be the best place to stay for the night until she could get help. Someone had to drive by here eventually.

Her car had broken down, and the young seventeen-year-old wasn't savvy enough in mechanics to know what to do with the thing. Her old clunker had sputtered out of life, still with a half-tank of gas and no notification to change the oil. She had sighed and headed out. She couldn't sleep in her car in the pouring rain. As she had been driving, she had seen the chimney of an old house peeking out through the trees. That was her best bet at the moment. She'd take spiders and bats over rain and a cold car any day.

She threw on her jacket and stumbled out into the rain. Her red hair clung to her wet face, and her green eyes darted around, searching for an easy way. She held a flashlight in her hand, shining her path. Frogs jumped out of the beam of light and various other critters skittered away.

She trudged in through the thunder and lightning, all the way up to the house at the top of the hill. She had no idea where she even was. She had left her home so that she could travel to a college she wanted to attend, and several wrong turns later, here she was. Her phone had no signal, but she'd brought it anyways in the hope that it would have a signal at the top of the hill. No such luck, of course.

The home looked entirely abandoned. The girl opened the door, looking in the dark foyer. "Hello?" she called. She slowly began to walk through, shutting the door behind her, as if anyone would care. The house was still furnished quite well. It made her think of a farmhouse, and she thought she'd seen a fence surrounding what would have been a garden. She trudged in, lightning occasionally lighting the room. She bit her lip and headed in, finding a kitchen. The girl sighed and walked through the hall, into a living room. As she was walking, she bumped into a table, and a crystal vase trembled and fell to the floor. She yelped in surprise, looking down at it. She looked around, but she didn't hear any response. She sighed and began to explore the living room.
 
The power had gone off atleast three hours from before. Karel was busy fixing the generator, mostly cursing and kicking it around. Being a bachelor who lived in the farmhouse and mansion, he regularly used his car to get to places. Today he was just planning to take it easy, maybe watch a few movies or so? Sadly the Thunderstorm had to strike and he was left without power and subsequently, in the darkness. Having re-configured the back-up generator, he only needed to wait until the people were able to restore power and fix the grid in time. He was about to return upstairs until he heard the smashing of glass. Eyes widening, his heart jumped in pace. Could a bandit have infiltrated his house?! He had to take things to his own hands!

Drawing a knife that he always kept during these times, he slowly advanced up, trying not to give himself away as he slowly walked closer and closer, a silent figure that snuck right behind a human-like silhouette holding a flashlight in the living room. Scanning the light around, she must have picked up the soft sound of his feet gently walking, though he managed to get the first strike as he grasped her body, wrestling her down when he grasped both of her hands. With a squeak he managed to tie her wrists down with a scarf, having improvised on the fly as he tied it very tightly. Turning her struggling figure, he made the 'thief' look him in the eye.

It was a she! A gorgeous red head, a good 7 years younger than he, with eyes that displayed her fear, surprise and vulnerability. "What are you doing, breaking into my house?" he asked, taking the flashlight and shining it towards her way. Grasping her collar, he lifted her and pressed her against the couch. "Were you trying to steal that Vase? It's worth a grand, you know!" he said, pressing her down a little more. Leaving her onto the couch for a bit, he grasped up a coil of rope from the drawer, ones that he used to create knots for sailing, grasping her arms as she would feebly struggle while her arms were bound in a box-tie, both hands bound to 90 degrees palm to elbow on both arms. The electricity was coming on just now, he moved aside the table and looked towards his captive. "What do you have to say for yourself, girl?"
 
Melissa paused when she thought she heard someone coming. That couldn't be possible. This house was abandoned, right? She kept looking around, stepping around the broken vase. She kept shining her light around, but then she felt someone grab her.

The girl squealed and began to kick and struggle. She kept elbowing him, fighting him off. She wailed and twisted in his grip, and he kept holding onto her. She wrestled against him as he got her on the ground. She kept screaming and wailing, grunting as she tried to free herself. Her cheek was pressed to the floor, and she felt a soft scarf wrap so tightly around her wrists that her hands tingled. She dropped her flashlight, watching as the beam of light landed a short ways away.

When he turned her over, she looked up at him with wide, frightened eyes. She was trembling fearfully, still squirming against him. She squinted against the flashlight shined in her eyes, turning her head away. "I-I'm sorry, Sir!" she said nervously, squirming beneath his weight. She didn't like feeling trapped like this.

She looked up at him, yelping as he hauled her to her feet and pressed her down on the couch. "No!" she cried. "I swear I wasn't!" Her clothes were soaking, and he should be able to feel that. "I just needed shelter! I didn't know you live here! I swear!" When he began to tie her arms together up to her elbows, she whimpered and squirmed. "No! Stop it!"

When he finally stepped back and looked at her, she whimpered. "I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to break the vase. It was dark and I ran into it. And I'm sorry for breaking in. I needed shelter and your front door was unlocked. The outside of the house made me think it was abandoned." She bit her lip, her face showing her innocence.
 
Eying his intruding captive, Karel looked down on her wet, shivering and bound figure. The Vase was quite expensive yes, but his eyes were affixed over her figure. So that was her story, huh? "I don't buy it." he replied curtly. From her dress he deduced she was a city girl, the kind who lived in metropolis. Her car story sounded so phony to him that he had no choice but to walk over, grabbing a knife, which he brought to her neck. If she moved...she would cut herself. Badly.

"I don't believe that. For all I know you could have been wanting to steal that vase but you dropped it just to save yourself. Now, the Police station in this county is quite far and the power is gone...so I can take justice to my own hands and kill you. I can bury you in an unmarked lot where they'll never find you." he threatened. Given the sporadic settlements, that much was true, even more was that if she was buried in the wilderness at his estate, no one would ever find her body.

Of course, there was a force rising in him. One that scanned her feeble, yet gorgeous frame. Long Red-hair sticking to her skin, he stroked through her hair. By then, it should insinuate that he did find something in her, more like her body. "So, let me tell you this: I can report you for breaking into my house and get at the minimum a Four-year sentence and a strike on your permanent record, or you can pay for it." he said, "With cash, of course. I can sue you for damages breaking into my house, so I'll let you go if you can pay me a good... Twenty Grand." It was an outrageous price, but that would be the maximum compensation he could gain from her.

The ropes must be rough against her silky smooth skin, the box tie already so straining the way she was bound.
 
Melissa shivered with cold, looking up at her captor fearfully. Her emerald eyes were wide, her entire body trembling. She was terrified of being here. When he stated that he didn't believe her, her eyes got even wider, and her lips parted to protest. But, all that came out was a quiet squeak as he pressed the knife to her trembling neck.

She listened as he told her what he believed. He was going to kill her? She couldn't believe it! He would kill her just to get back for something that she didn't even do! She whimpered and looked up at him fearfully. What about her parents? They'd wonder what had happened, why she had never checked in at the college, where she had gone. She was frozen in place with fear at the knife at her neck and his threats to kill her. She whimpered and sealed her eyes shut.

Her emerald eyes flashed open when he stroked her hair. Normally, that would've felt so good, but now, it sent shivers down her spine. She looked up at him, her eyes wide. She listened as he gave her lists for what would happen. When she heard the amount, her mouth parted in protest. She shook her head slightly. "I-I don't have that much," she said quietly, her voice barely more than a whimper. She struggled a little against her bindings, afraid that she'd cut herself if she moved too much.

"B-but you can go down the hill. My car is down there, and it won't start. Take me with you if you think I'll run away. Please, just don't kill me! I swear, this was all an honest mistake! Why would I steal a vase, when my parents have money to give me if I so desire?" She bit her lip. Yes, they would give her money, but not for mistakes like this. They would make her fix her own mistakes.

"Please, just let me go."
 
Karel, if he was compassionate, would have believed her and got right on that. But, that was quite the contrary. She had a beautiful figure, one whose breasts didn't sag nor whose behind was too large. Just the right proportion, as some would say. Her breasts were enough to be accosted when bound, her pert buttocks firm, atleast from what he presumed. Her uniform and clothing really did add to the appeal, a checkered skirt all too fitting when it matched her red hair and green eyes. Instead, he drew yet another lock of rope, turning her around, forcing her torso to the ground, while her buttocks were raised up, showing off white panties to the stranger. With a soft snicker he rubbed her ass gently, before he got started with the ropes, tying up a length of rope below and above her chest, passing around her arms to cinch it all in place, connecting the ropes inbetween to firmly accost her breasts with the rope harness.

"You say you don't have that much, so you're going to do it the hard way: you will have to stay here for four years, the equivalent of your jail time, to pay off the amount I asked for." he said, smiling as he got to work at her waist, disregarding her slight fidgeting as he tied a rope around her waist, using another length to run between her crotch, positioning the rope so that it was snug, tight and that it dug between her clit and pressing onto her labia. The arousal softly came when the ropes would rub at any movement of her legs, letting the hemp rub against her gentle folds.

Locking ropes around her knees, he bound them together as to prevent her from running off or kicking at him. "Just wait right here, sweetie." he said, letting her test the binds and the crotchrope as he left her there. All alone in the darkness, though the clouds had cleared up the rain still hit the window. He eventually returned, holding a ball-gag harness as well as a black leather collar. "Know what these are?" he asked, strapping the collar snugly around her neck. Placing the harness just near her body, he gestured as he had the ball close to her mouth. "Open wide. Say ahhh!" he said, softly pressing the ball gag inside, behind her jaw as he strapped it. Then, he stepped back, to admire his new specimen.
 
Rachel could see the lustful look in his eyes, and she didn't like it. She may have been innocent, but she knew enough to know when a man was looking at a girl the wrong way. She trembled quietly, wishing that she could just escape. She whined as he rolled her over and pressed her to the ground, her butt in the air. She tensed as she felt his hand rub over her firm ass. "Don't," she protested. She fought and struggled as he began to rope her up over her clothes. She didn't like the feeling of the rope squeezing her breasts and rubbing against her labia. She fought and shook her head, her eyes wide in terror as he told her what was going to happen.

"Four years? You can't do that! I'll have you arrested!" She hated that he was using this whole accident against her. He was trying to imprison her against her will. When she got out, she was going to make sure that everyone knew. She growled and shook her head, feeling him cinch the ropes tightly. She whimpered and kicked at him just before he bound her knees.

He tied her up completely, and she was trapped there. She whined and rolled over on the floor, desperately trying to escape while he left her alone for the short time she had. When he came back, she was lying on the floor in defeat. She looked up at him, seeing the collar and gag. She whined as he clasped the collar onto her neck. She squirmed and shook her head, and when he pressed the ball gag to her teeth, she had no choice but to open up before he broke her teeth. She whimpered and looked up at him spitefully, drawing her legs back and kicking him again. She wasn't about to let him do this.

"Ggllleh ehh glo." {Let me go} Her emerald eyes stared up at him, and she squirmed and thrashed.
 
"Oh, and who's going to stop me?" he asked in return, softly patting her head before he slapped her harshly across the cheek. Her training was to begin today, to mold her into Master's little pet slut. Karel picked her up roughly, only to fall back when he was kicked feebly by her foreleg, letting her fall back once again. Without her thigh to help her out her kicks were softer, but hitting his shin square on made him hiss then groan in pain, grasping his leg instinctively. He drew his knife and thrust it into the ground beside her, just a hair close form hitting her jugular. "Do you want to die instead then? I can just claim it was an act of vigilante justice for someone who broke into my home."

He looked very serious, given all the things he had done it was quite obvious to anyone that he would not hesitate to go through with his claims. For example, he could easily rape her, kill her off and hide the body, never to be seen by anyone ever again. The rain had covered her tracks, so there was literally no more evidence of her the moment she walked in. All it would take is a little cleaning up and then he would get off Scott free.

"I'll give you a choice: either you stand up and follow me to your new room or I will tie you up in a way that will slowly but surely, kill you. One nod for the first, two for the other." he said. Her slave training was to begin soon enough, he expected her to give it her all while she would invariably suffer.
 
Melissa cried out in surprise when he slapped her across the cheek, making her head turn from the force. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she whimpered. She was unfamiliar with this territory, the one of harsh men who were willing to beat a woman into submission. She was used to the sweet, lovey romances of high school. Where she came from, this sort of violence was almost unheard of except in foreign slave countries. Not here in America, just a few hours from home. When she saw him raise the knife, she cringed, sealing her eyes shut and watching as her life flashed before her eyes. She felt wind as the knife slammed down into the ground next to her. She slowly peeled open her eyes and looked at the wobbling blade beside her, whimpering.

She could tell that he was serious. He would kill her if he wanted. The rain provided for a good way to cover up any tracks, any trace that she was ever here. She wouldn't be found for the four years, so long as he got rid of her car. She looked up at him with wide eyes, whimpering. She nodded once, very carefully. She'd rather live and get a chance of escape. She knew there was a gas station about fifty miles down the road. She could get there, somehow. She'd ride a bear if she had to.

She waited for him to help her to her feet, and she quietly began to waddle after him, her eyes downcast as she struggled to walk in her bindings. She was terrified as to what her 'new room' implied. She expected a dungeon.
 
And rightfully so, it was a Dungeon. Leading her down the stairs to the basement, he turned off the lights. The room before her was filled with many kinds of BDSM furniture: a Saint Andrew's Cross, a Wooden Sawhorse, a pillory a pair of manacles dangling from the floor, a bunch of pulleys and ratchets on the roof for suspensions and a vaulting horse among many other things. Other such oddities was an odd chair, the shelf behind it hanging many kinds of BDSM tools, both new and old. There was even a neck violin and a heavy pair of stockades, beside them were a pile of rope coils, presumably just for the use of restraining any poor soul caught within the confines.

Giving her a moment to gaze upon her new 'room' , it was nothing more than a bland cell, though wide it held nothing aside from a toilet, a small faucet, a shower head on the corner and a bed. Eyebolts were affixed at the top, the door a padlocked jail cell. The iron was very sturdy, whoever made this truly knew what they were doing. "Welcome to your new home." he said, smiling wickedly.

He threw her down to kneel on the floor, where he stood over her. "I have a few rules down here and I expect you to follow them: You will call me Master all of the time. Your body is not your own, so when I am in your presence you have to ask me about anything. This includes but isn't limited to orgasms. You will answer my every question, silence will be treated as the answer that will most displease me. Am I clear?" he asked, insinuating that he would not repeat himself as he drew a small crop. If she had been a good girl, she would be spared a good caning.
 
Melissa's eyes widened in distress and she began to struggle as she was led down to the basement. She wailed and groaned. "Nghhh. Uh ooh agha eee hahkeh own ghere." {I don't wanna be taken down there.} She fought against him the entire way down, her eyes settling on every horrid device she saw. She whimpered and shook her head, wishing she had just slept in her car. If she'd done that, she wouldn't be in this situation. She whimpered and jerked around, her body rubbing against the ropes that bound her. At least she still had her clothes.

She saw her 'room,' which was hardly more than a jail cell. She whimpered, knowing she couldn't escape from that. She fell to her knees roughly, feeling pain shoot up through her legs. She whimpered and raised her eyes to him. She didn't like this. Not at all. She could see too many things happening in four years. Multiple children. Moving to another country. Rape. Abuse. Sickness. She didn't want any of that. She sealed her eyes shut and lowered her eyes, not saying anything for a moment before she remembered that he didn't want silence. Hoping it wasn't too late, she looked up at him again and nodded, her little tongue twitching beneath the ball gag in an aching attempt to make noise. She looked up at him fearfully, wondering what he would make her endure. She didn't doubt that every one of these devices would be used on her. She wondered why he even had a room such as this.
 
He hadn't heard her respond in return. Had she forgotten already? "My, it looks like it'll be awhile before you learn how to be a proper slave." he said, smiling as he pulled her up despite her futile struggles, tying a rope that connected her box tie to another rope above on a ratchet. Pressing a button, it forced her bound arms slightly in a gentle strappado, forcing her up slightly on her feet. There, he took the cane and began lashing down on her buttocks, firm strokes delivered. Though the blows were extremely harsh, the cloth on her buttocks did cushion the blow, somewhat.

"I will keep striking you until you correct yourself! Count to ten and I'll stop lashing at you!" he said, delivering blows at her thighs as well, leaving non-permanent red weals on her skin, sure to go away after awhile but enough to inflame her body. He could easily whip her until she bled, but of course, he was planning to actually free her by the end of the 4 years, so he had some obligation to care for her.

Whipping and striking her buttocks and lower area a smile was fixed onto her bod as if...hey genuinely enjoyed all of this. After he had his fill of whipping her, regardless of whether or not she had indeed counted down, he simply stopped. Untying the ropes and removing the gag, he simply left her in the room, looking down on her frame. "Remove your clothes. You'll get a cold. I'll be back with your dinner. Behave and relieve yourself if you need to. Am I clear?" he asked, holding the crop ready if she were to forget the second rule he so tried to get her to understand after that caning while she was bound.
 
Melissa cried out in protest and began to fight and squirm, kicking at him as he tied her arms above her head, forcing her up on her toes. She whimpered and looked up at him, shaking her head stubbornly. What was he doing? She looked at the cane, whining in realization and beginning to struggle. She felt him begin to strike her firm butt, and she protested in response, fighting and squirming desperately. Each blow made her ass sting, and she cried out with each one. She sealed her eyes shut and whimpered.

When he told her to count, she did so, each of her numbers accented with wails. The different numbers were barely distinguishable between each other. When he finally stopped, she relaxed a little, falling to the floor as she was untied. She looked up at him, panting. She trembled and whimpered, waiting and nodding. "Yes, Master," she said quietly. She bit her lip, sitting in her cell like a good little slave. She didn't want to get caned again. She trembled quietly, finally taking off her clothes like he told her to. She didn't like it. She whimpered and trembled, going over to her bed and curling up there, waiting for him to return. She shut her eyes and shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. She grabbed the blanket and pulled it around herself.
 
With a loud roar he let the engine loose, the car door open as he placed the brick on the pedal, letting the car veer forward as it fell from the cliff, crashing twice against the floor hitting the wreckage before it fell into the very deep part of the lake, forever gone along with all of the evidence she had. He had crushed her cellphone within the purse she had, anything remotely trackable like her blackberry was also destroyed along with her iPod. Taking her clothes and remainder of the things she brought, he walked back towards his home. Setting up, he placed her bag of belongings on a shelf outside of the jail cell, walking back inside holding a long nightshirt, a pair of her undergarments, cute sky blue with blue stripes and laid them out before her. "Put those on." he commanded.

After the deed was done, he looked towards his slave. "You look gorgeous. Did you choose that dress yourself?" he asked, gently stroking her hard nipples from the thin, almost see-through slip. What was a girl like her doing with something like this? A girl would normally ask for fancy lingerie when they were older. Regardless, she looked absolutely gorgeous with it. Opening the cell, he motioned for her to walk outside, where he bound her arms with a manacle and attached something small to her collar. Locked with a small padlock, it glowed red a few times, blinking. Little did she know, it was a tracking device, in case she did hide or run away.

"Come." he commanded, leading her upstairs. "Clean up your mess." he commanded, fitting a pair of shackles on her hands, but they had enough space to be spread out a little, handing her a broom. The knives were hidden in the shelf, presumably to prevent her from arming herself. Handed a dustpan and the broom, he wanted to make sure she would work her worth of debt entirely. After she was done, he fished something out of the fridge. "You allergic to fish or something?" he asked, looking back towards his slave. She was to stand down and not to resist, but for him to act so kindly...it was rather strange.
 
Melissa could faintly hear the crash as her car tumbled to its death. She whimpered and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to bring comfort to herself. She leaned her head on the wall of her cell. She would not see anyone for four years. She was terrified that when he let her out, she wouldn't want to leave. Or he wouldn't let her leave. She shut her eyes and waited, and when he came down with her suitcase, she looked up. She watched as he handed her some of her clothes. She frowned, not liking that he chose what gave him easy access to her body. She obediently stood up and put them on.

She shook her head. "No," she murmured. Her boyfriend had. She felt a pang of sadness when she realized that she wouldn't see him. When she did see him again, he'd probably have moved on, gotten a new girl. Or maybe he'd be so loyal that he'd still be mourning over her when she came home.

She walked out obediently, looking up at him, and waited patiently as he bound her wrists. She was just waiting for an opportune moment to strike. She was feigning obedience now, as if this were actually how she acted. She felt him mess with her collar, and when she put her chin down, she felt something attached to her collar. She sighed and shook her head. Probably something to make sure she didn't escape.

She followed him upstairs and let him refit her with shackles so she could clean up the glass. She swept it up as she crouched, sweeping up as much of the glass and crystal as she could. She heard his question and shook her head, before she remembered. "No, Master." She stood up and brought the dustpan filled with glass into the kitchen, dumping it in the trash. That vase was worthless now.

"What am I going to do for you in these four years?" she asked.
 
She was getting quite used to the routine he had mandated for her, but as he knew, she must be biding her time waiting for him to drop his guard, then she will make her move. In kind, he only pretended to be playing along, smiling and showing his appreciation to her submission when able. Hearing the sound of Glass shards piling on top of each other, she had finished the chore at hand and he was pleased. "Good work there, Slave." he said, softly patting her shoulder. Normally, he would not answer a slave's question, only because it went against his credo. Leaning against the fridge, he looked at her holding a glass of water on his right hand. "Normally slaves are not allowed to speak unless they are told to, but considering you've done quite well today, I'll entertain that question." He said, pausing for a moment as he drank the water he had in his glass.

Walking over, he put a TV dinner in the microwave, timing it to 2 minutes and 30 seconds as he let the frozen meal cook. Turning back to his slave, he gently rubbed her left nipple with his left hand, rolling it between his index and middle finger. "You will do as I ask you to do, unconditionally. Such things may range from chores, sexual service, submission or being my new farmhand. Of course, everything has to be done manually, it's all a part of your slave training!" Making sure to emphasize the last two words, he made it awfully clear that she was to be his slave for those 4 years. No rights, no freedoms and certainly no control over her fate.

Removing the steaming hot meal, he placed in another and led her forward. "I have a few critiques. You will always include Master in the words you say. You must also notify Master of anything that you do, whether it be finishing a task or asking of something." he said, pinning her against the wall gently, holding out his thin wooden crop. "Even if it is still your first day, you need to be disciplined to become a good slave! Isn't that what Slut wants?" Referring to her as Slut only to acknowledge it must be a harsh sting to her pride, much like his crop as it lashed gently against her nipples three times.

Then, afterwards, he put down a dog bowl, pulling the food that he had heated before onto it. The Dog bowl was rather large atleast, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, meatloaf and the desert all lumped up on top of each other. "Go on, eat! Slaves don't eat at the table unless their Master allows them. If you've been a good girl you will be able to eat with me!"
 
Melissa tensed slightly when he told her that slaves didn't speak unless spoken to. She nodded a little, waiting as he answered the question for her. She watched carefully as he walked around and prepared dinner. She thought he was only making dinner for himself. She didn't want a tv dinner. She'd rather just starve.

She backed up, whimpering as he teased her nipple. She didn't like him touching her. She didn't want to do anything for him, especially not anything sexual, though she could imagine he would make sure that would happen in the four years. She looked up at him with wide eyes, her body trembling a little. She felt self-conscious, standing here with him as he teased her nipple through only a thin layer of cloth. She blushed quietly and watched him.

He put another dinner in the microwave, and she found herself pressed up against the wall. Her heart pounded wildly, and her fearful eyes showed her discomfort with the situation. She looked down at the crop and swallowed. Apparently he carried that thing around with him. She heard him call her Slut, and she shook her head, flinching as he hit her with the crop. She didn't want to be called slut. She didn't like the name and what its connotation brought. She squirmed quietly, her cheeks bright pink.

She saw the dog bowl, and she frowned, looking in disgust at all the food clumped together. The small girl shook her head. "I'm not very hungry, Master," she said quietly. She didn't like the look of her food piled on top of each other. She hated when her food was touching. It just made it more disgusting. She also didn't want to eat out of a dog bowl. She felt like an animal eating at his feet rather than at a table. Just another way to control her and her pride.
 
Without warning he kicked the dish harshly, letting the food splatter on the floor. "Since you're so ungrateful for food, I'll see to it that you won't get your next meal." he barked out. "Clean that mess up." he commanded, pointing to the food that was scattered around. To think just a few moments ago he was so endearing and kind, but now he reverted to that cruel Master that he had made himself out to be. She was to spend 4 years of her life under the thrall of such a cruel man?! Starvation was a good tool to use when breaking a slave. Forced to work for sustenance was sure to convince her that relying on her master was the only way to fulfill her needs.

Once she was finished, he yanked the chain closer, forcing her towards the Living Room. Sitting down, he made himself comfortable on the couch. "Kneel, slave." he commanded, drawing the crop threateningly, perhaps to compel her to obey what he was to command next. "Listen here, Slave: you'd best stop resisting and throw away all of your dignity. It will make your stay here much more enjoyable and fulfilling if you stop thinking of me as a bad guy." he advised her carefully, using his crop to lift her chin up slightly. "Hold out your palms, sing to me jack and jill. if you pause, I will punish you."

When she did hold them up, he began to strike her palms, alternatively, striking her left palm, then her right, then her left back and forth, back and forth. If she were to concede and lower her hands, it would obviously be seen as disobedience and an infraction! Going at the 10th stroke, he wondered how long until she broke, totally submitting to him.
 
Melissa threw up her hands to shield her face from the flying food. She looked up at him in distress, slowly getting to her feet and cleaning up the mess, putting it all in the trash. She frowned unhappily, not looking forward to her life here with him. She bit her lip and glanced up at him, knowing he was watching her, waiting for her to finish. She didn't want to obey him. She didn't like him, and she didn't understand why he would do this to her. Why he was so cruel, why he was so adamant about being her master.

When she was yanked off her feet into the living room, she whimpered and knelt, looking at the crop nervously. Her eyes went up to his face, biting her lip. She listened and growled quietly. She would never lose her dignity. That she was sure of. When he lifted her chin, she looked up at him and sighed. "The nursery rhyme?" she murmured. She quickly began to sing it with her hands out.

She yelped when he began to strike her palms, trying desperately to keep holding them out. When he reached the 10th, she quickly pulled her stinging hands back, looking up at him. "What is the point of this?" she demanded, not sure why he was hitting her. She rubbed her sore hands, looking down at her red palms. She whimpered and tried to scoot away, knowing that she had disobeyed in putting her hands down. She looked at him with wide eyes. "I don't understand what's going on!" she cried, backing up until the chain was taut.
 
Karel remained silent as she talked on and on. He would let her finish before treating her as how he planned on treating her: like a slave, to remind her that she was worth nothing while she was busy paying off the intrusion to his home. When she was done, he smirked when she tried to scoot away, though the collar he held on one hand did stop her from inching a way farther than usual. Resistance was to be met with some punishment, but not too much. He wanted to prolong her breaking, to convince her that disobeying him was the very root of her wrongdoing and that it would simply make it worse for herself. Tugging the collar forward, Karel grasped his crop rather harshly and smacked her a bit at the thighs, continuing to let loose a few red weals on her skin. "Were you given permission to talk, slave?" He asked, slowly repositioning the crop as he lashed at her feet then.

Then, deeming that she had enough, he began to pull her downstairs. "Move it, slut!" he commanded, forcing her to walk down the steps while she was led by a chain to her neck. Leading her just below a ratchet and a chain, he took a handful of rope, a ball-gag and predictably, a vibrator. "Kneel." he commanded, taking a bar-spreader from the cabinet, affixing it to her ankles as they were spread out a bit, forcing her to a kneeling position. Uncuffing her, he gave her a bit of freedom, just to contemplate on her new position before the strain was to begin.

He turned around for a bit, looking through different vibrators, browsing his arsenal of sex pleasure toys. "Mmhmmm...You look like you need an orgasm or two to loosen you up..." he said to himself, choosing what looked like the right kind of vibrator to use against her. It was a small bud vibrator, complete with a remote. Walking back, he tossed a bright red ball gag before her. "Put that on, strap it behind your head and put the ball behind your teeth." he said, his orders strict.
 
Melissa whimpered, knowing that she'd done wrong. He dragged her forward, and she wailed pathetically, fighting as he began to slap the crop on her thighs and feet. Her toes curled against the strange sensation on her soles, and she clenched her fists and struggled. "N-No Master, you didn't!" she answered obediently, whimpering and looking up at him with wide eyes when he finally stopped the assault.

The girl stumbled to her feet and stomped after him, feeling him leading her. She whimpered and hurried down the stairs to keep up with him, and knelt obediently when he told her to. She looked up at him with wide eyes, whimpering as he affixed the spreader bar to her. She didn't like that. It just made her more open to attack. She shut her eyes and waited, her body trembling. He gave her the gag and she obediently put it in her mouth, tightening it behind her head as best she could with her chained wrists. She whined into the gag as he contemplated the vibrator.

He brought over the bud vibrator, and the girl struggled and scooted back, shaking her head. "Ah thunt gannt aht. Thunt oose ith un ehhh~!" {I don't want that. Don't use it on me!}
 
Truly, trying to train this girl would take some time. Ignoring her pleas, he unchained her wrists and simply grabbed her arms behind her, putting them elbow to elbow as he bound her arms together in an extremely straining manner. Noticing her elbows square off by instinct, he laughed. "You're rather flexible. I like that." he commented, softly spanking her buttocks with the thin wooden crop, spanking her gratituously, making soft red x's onto her cheeks. smiling softly, he bound a length of rope from her wrists onto the ratchet. Tying a seperate lock for both of her ankles, he smirked softly as he knelt down right before her. He wanted her to see him as the torture begins.

The moment would mark the first time she would experience hardcore endurance bondage. Pressing the button, it slowly forced her arms up, nearly vertical as it pointed up towards the roof. The rope at her ankles forced her to her knees, where the pressure would be concentrated. Her feet and her foreleg was no longer where the pressure rested, forced to her knees to say nothing of the strain her arms must be going through. With the strain of her arms it was only natural for the head to be bowed, a natural 'position of sorts for her.

She can move, however it would be nothing more than a few inches from where she knelt bound or turning around. He slowly let it all in, hearing her pained cries and moans arousing him in turn. "Turn around." he commanded, raining her thighs and her buttocks, slightly raised up from the bondage with strikes from the crop.
 
Melissa cried out in distress as he grabbed her elbows and forced them behind her back. She looked up at him pleadingly, wincing as he tied her up tightly so that she couldn't really do much with her arms. Her emerald eyes silently begged him, and she whimpered quietly as he held her in place.

When she felt her arms get forced up toward the ceiling and her body weight was transferred to her knees, she whined and wailed, shaking her head and wriggling. She couldn't do anything here. She was totally trapped. She whimpered and looked up at him best she could, but it was just so much easier to bow her head.

She whimpered in pain, trying to find a comfortable position, but she couldn't get far enough that she could find any. She shut her eyes in pain and whined, shaking her head. She heard his command to turn around, and the small girl bit down on her ball gag and waddled on her knees, slowly but surely turning around. She didn't look up at him, just shut her eyes and whimpered in embarrassment and pain. She trembled desperately, wishing she could go home. Had anyone discovered she was missing yet?
 
The sight of her bound, disheartened and whimpering body was a pleasurable sight to behold! By then the way her body was bound it forced her chest area to proudly jut out, however her bowed head prevented him from seeing her taut nip-nips from being seen. This was her 'first' bondage session and already she was on the brink of giving up. Was her body that tender, sensitive and delicate? Karel had fun striking at her thighs, her belly, her chest and onto her butt with the crop, raining gentle yet firm strokes against her body. A Master needed no pretext to do anything to their slave. He was demonstrating that to her just now, striking at her body despite having no reason to do so.

"Are you comfortable there?" he asked, kneeling face to face with her, poking the soft red ball gag caused her to drool, humiliated and utterly tormented by the ropes, his fingers began to stroke only to discover she was wetter than before. Was she secretly a Masochist? Even if she wasn't, he would definitely change it so that SHE becomes his own masochist. "Sing me twinkle twinkle little star and I will untie you! But if you stammer or stop, I will ask you to start over!" he said, turning up the vibrator a tiny bit, then spanking and striking at her bare feet, alternating from foot to foor.

"Oh my, are you about to cum?" he asked, noticing her body shuddering. While that could be because of her body begging him to put an end to this senseless torture, he mistook it or an orgasm just so that she would end up begging him not to provoke her body any more. The day was long, with her car breaking down, being held captive and the only chance of escape gone, probably fifty meters down the water? Waiting her decision, he continued to strike at her thighs, toes, feet, buttocks and even to her breasts when he slid it just below her chest.
 
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