Finding Joy with Her Idnapper

Thank you to everyone for all of your encouraging votes. This is the first time I've shared any stories so I would love to get your feedback. I'm trying to develop the character and scene a bit more in this chapter so it may not be as sexy as you like but I hope you still enjoy it!

Thanks.

*****

Once again, I awake in darkness. I'm assuming its night but I really have no idea what time it is, let alone what day. How long have I been here? Is anyone looking for me? If I'm going to be honest, somehow I don't think anyone would have even noticed my disappearance. I haven't spoken to my mother in years and I'm not exactly the social type.

My only measurement of time now is whenever he is here. His visits are the only events that break up my time between extreme boredom and extreme excitement.

But something has changed with him. He hasn't touched me since he violated my ass, stealing my last virginity. Now he just talks to me from the other side of the room. He fluctuates between what feels like complete adoration and obsession over me and my body, to complete hatred of me and everything I do.

Honestly, his mood swings give me whiplash! But he never lays a hand on me.

It's been roughly 2 days I think, and he hasn't touched me at all. He doesn't even come close to me! I'm starting to think that I smell or something because I definitely haven't had a shower since I've been here but have participated in some pretty strenuous physical activity. I resolve to bring up the hygiene issue next time he visits.

On the plus side, I'm no longer tethered to the bed when he leaves. The chest of drawers and the doors are all covered in padlocks, and I think the window is made of reinforced fibre glass, so there's no chance of escape, but at least I'm able to walk around and stretch my muscles.

Something I also didn't notice before is the toilet and wash basin discretely hidden in the corner of the room. He really has thought of everything! I try and clean myself with water from the basin but I really need some soap. He brings me food every now and then as well. I'll often wake to find a fresh bowl of fruit or some toast and water next to the bed on the floor. No cutlery.

Just like a prison.

I'm lying back on the bed making a note of all of the classes I've missed at university thanks to my captivity when I hear the locks on the door slide back. Finally something to break the boredom! I sit up on the bed and hug my knees in an attempt to cover myself - he still hasn't given me any clothes - and I feel goosebumps rise on my skin as he ravages my body with his eyes. I can see the hunger deep inside him for my body, but he continues to stand across the room, never touching me.

He stands there staring at me for about 5 minutes and the tension building up is so unbearable I decide the break the silence for the first time.

"What's your name?" I ask

"That's not important" was his blunt reply. His deep gravelly voice sends shivers up my spine and I still can't tell if the shivers are from fear or anticipation. I decide to take a different approach.

"I need a shower. I've been here for days and I stink. And I need some different food, I really don't like fruit. I need a watch too so I can keep track of the time. And maybe some coffee, I'd do anything for a coffee." I'm rambling now, hoping my sudden chattiness will put him off guard.

"You don't need anything. Only I decide what you need" and with that he spun on his heel and left the room, slamming the door violently behind him. Damn. I guess I pushed him a bit hard. I go back to lying on the bed daydreaming about my uni classes.

After about an hour he's back at the door and comes in with a large bucket and some towels. It dawns on me that I'm about to get a sponge bath. I'm about to protest, desperate to uphold some sort of dignity when he grabs me roughly, shoving me back on the bed them tying my hands above my head with his shirt. Oh boy, he certainly keeps in great shape. His chest is perfectly toned; his arms are almost brutish in size, and his abs look like chiselled marble.

I know the game is lost now and there's no point fighting it. Things usually work out better for me if I just let him do what he wants.

He sits on the bed beside me as he dips a cloth into the bucket and brings it over to my body. The water is so nice and warm, with a hint of lavender scent I think. He slowly rubs over my belly, down my sides, up my arms, very obviously avoiding any direct contact with my skin, especially over my breasts.

He works me over with the cloth, giving me a good clean, as I'm starting to feel vaguely human again. If only I could brush my teeth as well!

The slow luxurious movements of the cloth over my skin, combined with the warm scented water, are so relaxing I feel myself truly calm down for the first time since I was taken.

I close my eyes and relax my head back and let him explore my body with the cloth. A small part of me wishes he would be a bit more adventurous and is aching to feel his skin on mine, but I quickly squash the thought. No sane person would wish for the sexual attention of a maniac like my captor! Would they?

Suddenly his demeanour changes and he jumps up and straddles my hips. The hunger in his eyes returns and I notice the massive bulge in his crotch. Uh oh. I swallow audibly and he chuckles at the sudden look of fear that must be plastered over my face.

He dips the cloth in the water again and brings it over to my sex, dripping water between my legs. The warmth feels so good!

He puts a knee between my legs as he slowly moves the cloth down and starts to clean between my legs. God this is embarrassing! But I can't deny how good it feels it be touched there again!

I squeeze my legs together to try and create some friction and stimulation but he just chuckles and forces them apart with his knees. He starts rubbing harder with the cloth, opening the lips of my sex to find my pussy already wet. He chuckles again at my obvious need and desire.

Slowly and delicately he cleans my sex thoroughly, leaving no part untouched by the cloth.

I ache for him to touch me without the cloth, to push his fingers inside me and to rub his thumb over my clit. But he's so careful! The torture is agonising and I find myself biting my lips and pushing my hips into his hand. Again he chuckles - that damn chuckle! - and he pulls away, getting off the bed leaving me panting and wanting. He stares down at me and I meet his gaze, certain that his own hunger is now reflected in my own eyes.

I start to shiver a bit as the water dries on my skin, stealing my warmth. There are goosebumps all over me now and I'm no longer relaxed and comfortable. He must notice the change as he swaps the wet cloth for a big towel and starts to rub me over, drying me off, his movements no longer sexual. I sigh when I realise the moment is gone and the bulge in his pants isn't as obvious.

Feeling like I'm going to cry from the lack of attention I turn my head away and close my eyes. I hear him leave the room, but not before he's untied my hands and dropped something on the bed next to me. Toothpaste and a toothbrush! Thank the lord! I jump up and immediately dash over to the sink to brush my teeth.

Once I'm done I walk over to the door and call out a soft thank you. I don't know if he would have heard it. But that doesn't matter.

My body is aching with need again as I lay back down on the bed. The frustration is so distracting I can't even day dream! What's to stop me from relieving the ache on my own? Oh what a mischievous thought! I cringe at the idea of what he might do to me if he catches me pleasuring myself without his permission. How embarrassing that would be! Not to mention the fact that I know I would be thinking about him while I 'flick my bean', or so to speak.

But once the thought is in my head I can't get it out. I try walking around the room but the friction between my legs only excites me even more! Oh screw it! I throw myself down on the bed and take a few deep breaths to calm myself.

Slowly I move my hand down towards my sex and part my lips to dip my fingers in my wetness.

I've always had trouble getting myself off on my own. It's like there is this barrier that stops me from going over the edge that I just can't push myself through. I compare it to trying to make myself jump in front of a moving train - I just can't take that first step. So quite often I only end up frustrating myself even further, but I can't resist at least relieve the pressure that's quickly building inside me.

I start circling my clit in slow agonising movements, occasionally flicking over the top, sending a quick little spasm into my belly. I continue this pattern for a while as I feel my breath start to pick up and the muscles in my legs start to shake.

I start flicking over the top of my hard little knob faster and harder, building a rhythm until the pleasure moves through my whole body. My eyes roll back in my head and my fingers take on a life of their own. Circling, flicking and pulling.

My legs are shaking and I feel myself start to approach that brick wall. In my mind I stare at his eyes and lose myself in the dark depths of his desire. I imagine his hands all over me as he tortures the orgasm out of me. My back arches and I scream as I break through the wall and my orgasm rips through me, leaving me sweating and shaking and moaning.

A loud bang breaks me out of my reverie as I notice he's stormed in to the room. He has a panicked look on his face which confuses me. Then as he realises my current situation his expression turns dangerously dark. Oh shit. All feelings of pleasure are gone as I look in to those eyes and catch a glimpse of the world of pain I'm about to enter.

He shuts the door behind him and walks over to me as he pulls his belt from his jeans. He wraps the belt around my wrists tying them together above my head. He starts unlocking the drawers and pulls out a blindfold and a ball gag then straps them to my face. I can't see and I struggle to breathe around the gag as I'm still recovering from my gut wrenching orgasm.

He picks me up and I hear a chain being lowered from the ceiling. He pulls my arms up and hooks the belt onto the chain, then raises the chain so I'm stretched out but still able to stand. I feel him strap a cuff around each of my ankles as he then attaches the spreader bar between my legs like he did that first night I was here. Oh God this is bad! I knew I shouldn't have touched myself.

He tells me how disappointed he is in me. He thought I understood the situation but obviously he needed to outline the rules a bit more bluntly and I needed to be showed just exactly what happens to sluts when they break the rules. I hang my head in dread, panting around the gag, terrified of what is about to happen.

I hear the chink of metal as he stands before me. He grabs one of my nipples, pulling and pinching it to attention before attaching a nipple clamp to it. My nipples are always more sensitive after an orgasm and the pain is excruciating as he attaches a clamp to my other nipple.

I feel him tug on the chain between the clamps as he pulls it up to my mouth and hooks it to the gag somehow so that my head is constantly pulling upwards on my nipples and there is no relief from the sweet agony coming from my chest. I moan around the gag, trying to speak and explain my actions but only muffled noises come out.

He tells me that I am expected to obey him and submit to his will at all times. I am to always make myself available to him when he needs me. My body belongs to him and only he is allowed to use it and enjoy it. I am not allowed to have an orgasm unless he has given me permission to do so and under no circumstances am I to touch myself unless instructed to do so.

My head is reeling as I try and focus on his voice and absorb what he is telling me. It's becoming clear that my situation is much worse than I thought. I'm not just his captive, I'm his slave, and he is planning on breaking my will so that my whole world revolves around serving him. Fear and grief builds up inside me and I sob behind the gag as tears start welling in my eyes, soaking the blindfold.

He ignores my obvious distress and continues his sycophantic rant about his rules. If I ever disobey his command or break one of the rules, my punishment will be decided by him, depending on the severity of the infraction, and will be carried out immediately. He tells me that he will open my eyes to a whole new world of pain and pleasure and one day I will begin to love him, as he loves me.

My ears perk at the word love. How could this creep expect me to ever love him? What sort of sick perverted version of love does he understand if he thinks tying me up and torturing me is love? I try and struggle against my restraints but all it does is send shockwaves of pain through my nipples as I'm reminded on the clamps. I try and take a deep breath to clear my head. I had to get out of here! But I won't be going anywhere if I'm tied up.

And suddenly it's like the sky has cleared and I can see clearly again. I have to get him to trust me and believe I have submitted to him. Eventually his guard will drop; I'll be given more and more freedom until I can finally escape.

My body slumps and dangles in front of him. My head resolved to withstand anything he can throw at me. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel now. He must notice the submission in my posture; the lack of defiance. I feel him move closer to me and he strokes my hair, whispering in to my ear, calling me a good girl.

He unhooks the nipple chain from the gag, allowing my breasts to relax. He removes the gag and asks me if I understand all he has told me.

"Yes, Sir. I understand. I'm sorry"

This seems to satisfy him and I hear him walk over to the chest of drawers. He tells me that he accepts my apology, but I still need to be punished to discourage any future behavioural transgressions.

Suddenly I hear a swishing noise and a sharp crack before I notice the stinging pain on my stomach. Whack! Another sting and I realise he is whipping me with something, probably a riding crop. Whack! He brings the crop down on to my breasts, just near the clamp.

Oh the pain! Tears over flow from my eyes and I cry out in shock and pain. He's hitting me harder than ever before. Whack! Whack! Whack! He hits me all over my chest, back and stomach, then down my thighs and in between my legs. Close to, but never quite touching my sex. My body is stinging everywhere and my mind goes numb from the pain. I've lost count of how many times the crop has made contact with my body. My pale alabaster skin must be red and swollen and by now.

And then he stops. No more stings. I hear him drop the crop then feel his lips on my neck, kissing me along my jaw, murmuring incomprehensibly into my skin. I manage to control my breathing and thank him for stopping, again apologising for breaking the rules. I promise to not break them again. He chuckles, and tells me the punishment has only just begun, this was just a warm up.

My body trembles as his words sink in. He moves away and I hear the chain being lowered, allowing me to hold my hands in front of me. I hear him leave the room for a moment and return dragging something heavy with him. He drags it in front of me then bends me over it.

He has my upper body lying over some sort of leather bench, bent at the hips. He brings my arms above my head and attaches the belt to something so I can't move my arms. The nipple clamps are being pushed in to the bench and the pain in my nipples is almost excruciating. I feel him attach a belt of some sort over my back and I realise I'm being lashed on to the bench, with my ass exposed at the end. My breathing picks up and my body shakes with fear.

He tells me that he is now going to spank me with his hand. My transgression has earned me 15 spanks and he wants me to count each hit. If I lose count, we start again, until I make it to 15. He tells me that if I make it to 15 without losing count on the first try then the punishment will end. But if I screw up, there'll be more hell to pay once we eventually reach 15.

I hear him take up position near my ass and feel a sharp smack on my cheek. It wasn't too bad, I could handle this. I quickly count one out loud before I get told off. As the word left my mouth the next hit came on my other cheek. A little bit harder than the first but not too bad. Two. Another hit. Three. Another. He keeps directing the hits to different areas around my ass so he doesn't hit the same spot twice in a row.

I'm gritting my teeth as the hits start getting harder and harder. Seven. Smack! Oh God! That one hurt. It brought little white dots to my eyes. I gasp out eight, then smack! Another hit right in the same spot! I cry out in pain and almost bite my tongue. I try and draw in a deep breath to help control the pain. He tells me to count and I stutter as I almost forget what we're up to. I yell out nine before he starts to think I've forgotten.

The smacks are so hard now it takes me a minute or so after each one to recover before I can mutter out the number. He must realise how much pain I'm in because he doesn't push me to count faster. He just waits patiently before bringing his hand down to slap my ass again. It's around the 12th spank that I bite my tongue so hard I can taste blood in my mouth.

After the 13th I swear I'm close to passing out. It's all I can do just focus on my breathing. If I get through this and don't lose count, he'll leave me alone. The 14th hit makes contact and the pain makes me shriek. I breathe deeply and count, willing it to be over. The 15th smack hits as I yell out 15 then pass out from the pain.

I wake up on the bed, my body aching all over. The blindfold has been taken off, along with the nipple clamps and other restraints, and I see him standing at the edge of the bed, smiling down at me. He tells me how proud he is of me for making it through the spanking and tells I've earned my very first reward.

The pain in my body, and in my ass especially, is still so acute that I can barely comprehend what he's saying to me. He tells me that he is going to pleasure me gently, and when I feel it, I am allowed to cum and do not need to ask his permission.

I try and move away from him as he tries to touch me, certain he is going to hurt me again. But the pain stops me from being able to move far. He grabs my legs and gently spreads them as he pulls me towards him at the end of the bed. He kneels down and rests his face between my legs, softly blowing on my sex. The cool breeze feels good and I start to relax a bit. Maybe he isn't going to hurt me.

Gently, he parts my lips with his tongue and lightly runs his tongue up and down my sex. The warm attention feels so good compared to the brutal agony he just inflicted on my body. How can one person be so cruel and hurting one minute, then loving and gentle the next? Slowly, his tongue dips into my vagina, which he finds wet and waiting for him (much to my surprise!), then he moves up to my clit, slowly circling the little nub, enticing it out of its hood.

I can't ignore the pleasure building up inside me. Slowly the pleasure starts pushing away the pain and I relax in to his touch, letting my legs open wider, gently pushing my hips towards his face. I let out a soft moan. His tongue starts flicking gently over my clit as I feel one of his hands move up between my legs and slowly slides a finger into my warm and welcoming pussy.

Feeling him inside me spikes up the pleasure which has taken over my body so I no longer feel the pain. His tongue starts working harder and harder as he draws my clit into his mouth, sucking and nibbling on it. The pressure inside me continues to build as he works his finger in and out of my hole. I start panting as my legs start shaking. The orgasm is building higher and higher and I try to control it before I realise he has already given me permission to cum.