
                              Stockholm
                               by Rider


DISCLAIMER: This story contains graphic depictions of sex, especially
paedophilic sex.  If this offends you, please do not read them or
download them.  Please read the subject header for info regarding
story content.  I am trying my best not to offend anyone, and I ask
that you consider the story content as described above before you
read the stories.

This is intended for adults only.  If you are offended by graphic
descriptions of a sexual nature, please, don't read this or download
it.

If this is illegal wherever you are reading this, stop now.

          **************************************************

Introduction

I would like to explain what this story is and why I decided to write
it.

Plot summary:

A young girl is kidnapped and held prisoner.  She decides to
cooperate to avoid harsh punishment but eventually becomes attached
and cooperates as much from desire as fear.

I won't spoil the ending, but I would like to explain some things.

This is a psychological drama.  It is named after the syndrome where
a captive becomes loyal to his or her captor(s).  It became better
known in 1976 when Patty Hearst was abducted by members of the
Simbianese Liberation Army and participated in a bank holdup
appearing to be as much a member as anyone else in the group.  I
began to wonder if the same type of psychology might not apply to
some other kidnapping situations, so I tried to depict a fictional
situation and see if it could be believable.

In order to accomplish that, it was necessary to build slowly.
Consequently, the first chapter has very little of what I consider to
be sex (unless you happen to like bondage).  In the second chapter,
however, there is a lot as the girl begins to develop a sense of
belonging and emotional attachment to the man that kidnapped her.  I
have decided to call this "nonconsensual" although that may be
debated.

Additionally, I have left the ending open.  The girl is now advanced
sexually far beyond her years and I am considering what that would do
to a "normal" girl.  Conceivably, this might lead to promiscuity or
incest.

The point of view is unusual.  The reader is the proverbial
fly-on-the-wall with the added advantage of access to the girls
thoughts, but not the man's.  He remains mysterious to her and the
reader except through his actions that speak volumes about who and
what he is.  I wonder what he did with the...

Well, let me know if I pulled it off.

          **************************************************


Chapter 1

Sitting in the dark room, Sandy struggled against the ropes that
bound her wrists and ankles.  With a gag in her mouth and her hands
tied behind her, she made little progress, but she was a determined
little girl.  She could feel liquid running down the fingers of her
right hand and figured she may have rubbed herself so raw that she
had begun to bleed, but that didn't stop her.  Perhaps the fear of
another encounter with the nameless man that put her here gave her
inspiration.

The only thing that could make her cry was thinking about the way
things used to be.  She missed her mother and father.  She missed the
sunshine and her friends.  She missed good food.  When her thoughts
strayed to these things, she would cry.

The bare floor was cold on her butt and wet from her own urine.
Although there was a corner she used to defecate and urinate, the
room was small and the urine flowed all over the floor.  The stench
was getting unbearable as the urine degraded into ammonia and the
quantity of feces had grown.  Naked, except for the ropes and gag,
she tried sleeping in a sitting position so that she would not have
to lie in the stench.  She finally found that if she leaned into a
corner, she could rest for a while.  Everything was dark and quiet.

Suddenly, a bright light shown from across the room as the door
opened.  It was so bright she could not even tell if there was
someone standing in the doorway.  She knew he was there, though.  It
was always him.

There was no movement or sound for a while.  Then footsteps clicked
across the cement floor and she felt a hand on her leg.  The ties
around her ankles soon loosened and the rope was removed.  Nothing
was said.  The hand gently grabbed her arm and pulled insistently and
she struggled to her feet.  Her hair, once beautiful, was a scraggly
mess that smelled of urine and hung down in her face obscuring her
vision.

Stumbling towards the light, she thought it actually felt warm, but
it wasn't sunshine.  She was led from her stagnant cubicle through
another room into still another.  Her eyes slowly adjusted to the
light and she could identify bathroom fixtures.  She was not angry
now; just dazed, confused and fearful.

She felt the hands untying the gag and removing it, but she did not
scream for fear of what he might do.  Besides, she was fairly sure no
one would hear.  As she stood with her hands bound, naked and
trembling with cold and fear, she watched as he filled the bathtub
with water and tested the temperature with his hand.  As he was bent
over the tub, she contemplated possible actions.  She could kick him,
perhaps forcing his head into the wall and knocking him out.
Glancing at the door, she also thought about running.

The man stood and she turned her head, but she noticed that he was
also looking at the door.  And then he looked her in the eyes.  She
looked away at nothing in particular, the tile, the floor, the grout,
expecting that he would walk over to the door and close it, or hit
her if he figured out what she was thinking.

Nothing happened.  She did not return his gaze even after it was
apparent that he would not do anything, but kept her eyes almost
motionless to cover her thoughts.  Her plans had not been completely
blocked, but she lacked opportunity at the moment.  But when the
moment was right...

She felt his hand on her shoulder and pulled away towards the tub,
now almost full.  His hands continued to urge her from behind and she
decided to go along and get into the tub.

A delicate soapy odor permeated the room and she noticed that he had
added bubble bath to the water.  What a curious thing!  Bubble bath!
She was pleased and angered at the same time.  After keeping her
locked in that nasty room, he had the audacity to try and make this
bath "special."  But, oh how she loved bubble baths!  She wanted to
kick him some place special to thank him.

After she had stepped into the tub, he untied her wrists.  She
brought her hands to her front and felt the unnatural pull on her
shoulders from having been behind her for so long.  Blood was caked
onto her fingers on the right hand and the wrist bore abrasions that
were raw and tender.

She slowly began to sit in the bath and felt the bubbles tickle her
hairless pussy and the backs of her thighs before she felt the warm
soothing water.  She decided to lean back and hide her naked body
under the bubbles, but the water stung her wrist so much that she
cried out briefly.  She held her wrist for a moment and swallowed her
tears before she again lowered herself into the water.  This time,
the water stung, but she put the pain out of her mind and submerged
her body as much as she could.  Her legs were too long for the small
tub and her knees stuck out above the water.  She moved some of the
bubbles to cover her knees, wanting to become invisible.

She cringed as he approached the tub with a washcloth.  Although it
was likely he was going to wash her, she dreaded his touch and closed
her eyes to avoid seeing what he would do.  She felt the water move
as he moistened the cloth and then the cloth touched her shoulder.
As the cloth gently rubbed her skin, she resigned herself to being
washed and did not make any move to resist.  She lay there as he
washed her shoulders and arms.  His hand behind her neck prompted her
to sit up and he then washed her back.  The motion of the cloth, the
warm water and the gentle sounds of dripping and splashing water
relaxed her despite her intent and she fought to keep alert so that
she could find an opportunity to escape.  She soon realized, however,
that escape would have to wait for a while, and she was so tired from
her lack of sleep that she allowed her captor to wash her quite
passively.

She closed her eyes and kept them closed as the man washed her face.
She gave no resistance as he lifted her injured wrist from the water
and patted it with the washcloth.

Her brow wrinkled when the washcloth disappeared beneath the water
and began to rub her stomach, but she gave no other outward sign of
displeasure.  Her expression did not change as the washcloth passed
between her legs and gently rubbed her hairless labia and around her
anus.  Mentally, she had divorced the washcloth from the hand.  At
least, she thought, it was not his hands touching her.  It was the
washcloth that caressed her legs, not his hands.

His hands did touch her head as he applied shampoo and scrubbed the
strands of scraggly hair, but that did not evoke any new disgust.  In
fact, she was glad to finally get the grunge out of her hair.

After rinsing her hair, she again felt his hand on her arm imploring
her to stand with which she complied.  A clean dry towel was wrapped
around her shoulders and she grasped the front and held it to cover
her nakedness.  She stood perfectly still as she felt his hands
through the towel patting her dry.

She was led through the door into a hallway and then into a large
room.  A large bed covered only with sheets occupied the center.  The
rest of the furnishings were unremarkable: a nightstand, a lamp, a
chair or two, and the floor was covered with blue carpeting.  There
was another open door besides the entrance that led to another
smaller bathroom and, most notably, there was a window.  Curtains
covered the window and there was no way to see outside, but she could
tell it was night.  That was the only way to tell the time since
there were no clocks, no television, no radio, and no telephone.

She gave a little resistance when he removed her towel, but finally
stood there and covered her privates with her hands.  He gestured
towards the bed and she slowly moved and sat down on the clean
sheets.  It was the softest thing she had sat on in what seemed like
a very long time.

"Lie down," he ordered.  It was the first time she had heard his
voice.  It was not gruff, as she expected, but normal.  Just like
anyone else's.  She sighed and lay on her back with her knees bent
and her hands still covering her privates.  He closed the door and
walked to the dresser where he removed some cloth and returned to the
bed.  He took her left arm and tied the cloth around her wrist and
then to the metal bedpost.  With her right wrist, he first wrapped
the wrist with a soft cloth before tying that one to the other
bedpost.  She struggled briefly when he grasped her right ankle, but
then gave way to avoid arousing his ire.  After tying it to the lower
bedpost, he took the final piece of cloth and walked around to the
other side of the bed.  She didn't even resist when he grabbed her
left ankle and straightened the leg out before securing it with the
cloth.

For what seemed like a very long time, he stood by the bed and
stared.  She bent her neck and looked down, wondering what he was
staring at.  She had a flat chest without even a hint of tittie like
a woman has.  Her pussy was completely hairless and smooth and she
knew that women had hair on their pussies.  So what was there to look
at?

As he turned and walked to the door, she finally got the courage to
speak.

"Hey, mister!  What if I need to pee?"

He turned around and replied, "Just yell," before he continued out
the door leaving the light on.

Her brief thoughts of screaming for help were dashed by this new
instruction.  Evidently, there was no one around besides him to hear
her, so there was little point in attempting to attract attention.
The last attention she wanted at the moment was his.

As the door closed, she was alone again.  Reflecting on her new
circumstances, she decided that they were definitely better than
before.  She was clean and dry, relatively warm, and lying on a soft
bed.  The ties were cloth instead of rope and she was not gagged.
She wanted to turn over, but the ties prevented her from moving so
she lay there and closed her eyes.  As she drifted off to sleep, she
remembered she had not eaten in at least a day.

The aroma of fried bacon, toast and eggs wafted through the room and
she thought she was still dreaming.  As she opened her eyes, however,
the man was setting a tray on the bed.  It was covered with breakfast
food in separate plates and there was orange juice in a plastic cup.
As she stared at the tray, he untied her hands.  The man moved to the
foot of the bed and sat in a chair, leaving her with her arms free
and a tray full of food within her reach.

Although she was hungry, she hesitated.  Was this a trick?  Was the
food poisoned?  As she eyed the food and then the man, she decided
that it didn't matter.  Besides, why go to all this trouble to kill
her now when he could have done it easily last night or any time
before?

Despite her ravenous appetite, she made a pretense of being calm and
collected as she picked up a piece of bacon and put it into her
mouth, followed by buttered toast, and eggs and more bacon, rinsing
it down with orange juice.  Soon, she gave up the pretense and began
voraciously chowing down.  She made no effort to conceal her exposed
cunt, despite the fact that he was clearly positioned for the optimal
view, but ate like she had never eaten before.

The portions were generous, but there was no food remaining when she
finished.  Her hunger satisfied, she leaned back on her elbows and
returned the man's stare.  Feeling somewhat emboldened with a full
stomach, she decided to engage the man in conversation.

"What now?"  she asked, slightly concerned that he might actually
tell her.

After a brief hesitation, the man answered, "Put your hand between
your legs."

She saw no problem with covering herself and moved her hand quickly,
placing it over her pussy.

"Now rub yourself," he commanded.

She failed to see the point in this request, but decided to obey.
She moved her hand slightly up and down and kept it placed where it
would continue to cover her pussy.  She kept up a steady motion as he
watched for several minutes and, although it was pleasurable, it was
not exceptionally so.

She thought to herself, "So this is what you have to do for breakfast
around here."

He finally arose and moved to replace the ties on her wrists.  As he
took her left wrist, she asked, "Can I go to the bathroom now?"

After removing the empty tray, he released her wrist and untied her
ankles before stepping back to let her get up.  She slowly sat up on
the side of the bed, still warm from the tray, and then walked to the
bathroom.  She no longer used her hands to cover herself, recognizing
the futility of such a gesture.

Upon entering the bathroom, she closed the door and felt a sudden
rush of excitement.  A chance to escape?  There was no lock on the
door and no window.  The ventilation was too small for her to fit
through and too high to reach in any case.  There was only a toilet
and a sink with no medicine cabinet or closet.

Sighing at the unfortunate conclusion, she sat on the toilet and both
urinated and defecated.  There was toilet paper which was a welcome
sight.  She washed her hands and took one final look around for
anything that could be used to help with an escape.  She inspected
the workings of the toilet for sharp objects and scrutinized the
plumbing, but she finally reconciled herself to the fact that there
was little of any use.

Fighting the desire to just stay in the bathroom, she finally opened
the door.

The man was nowhere to be seen and the bedroom door was closed.  She
was alone!  And untied!  She felt almost free as she walked over to
the window, lit with daylight, and pulled back the curtains.  The
bars on the other side reminded her of her prisoner status, but the
view onto a pasture was a delight.  Except that there was no evidence
of humanity anywhere to be seen.

She spent most of the rest of the day exploring her new space, but
finally tired and lay back down on the bed.  She got under the thin
covers and curled up in a ball.  Even without a pillow, this was
paradise.  As she fell asleep, she dreamed of walking in the pasture
barefooted and naked.

It was evening when the man returned, again carrying a tray of food.
Again, there were no utensils, but the food was delicious and missing
lunch had made her quite hungry even while she slept.  When she had
finished, he came and moved the tray.

Returning to his seat at the end of the bed, he sat still for a
moment.  The silence was frustrating, so she again asked, "What now?"

With less hesitation, he instructed her to lie down.  She lay on the
bed with her legs together and looked at the ceiling.

"Raise your knees," he ordered.  She did as he said, keeping her
knees together.

"Now separate your knees."

Having been naked and totally exposed before, but being untied and
well fed now, she decided to follow his instructions.  There was
little to lose since he could just as easily tie her in whatever
position he wished and she was hoping to keep the small degree of
freedom that she had.

For several moments, she lay with her hands beside her and her knees
up with legs spread wide.  She could see no point in not explicitly
following his instructions.  Exposed is exposed, so why not give him
what he obviously wanted?  She was not clear why, but she did know
that he was intent on viewing her preteen pussy and she thought
cooperation might lead to better things than resistance, at least for
the time being.

"Put your hands between your legs and pull the lips apart," came the
order.

For a moment, she hesitated.  It wasn't that she didn't understand,
she was contemplating disobedience.  Could she deny him the pleasure
of seeing her innermost private recesses?

His glance towards the dresser immediately shocked her back into
reality.  There was no denying this man who could just as easily
remove the freedoms that he had granted.  To avoid being tied, she
immediately pulled her cunt lips apart as far as they would go and,
to emphasize her compliance, lifted her hips.

When she was sure that her compliance had averted being restrained,
she slowly let her hips return to the bed.  She watched him for a
while, but her neck got tired so she rested her head back on the
matress and looked at the ceiling as she kept up the uncomfortable
traction on her cunt lips.  Minutes went by, but he just sat there,
staring.  It was as though she were a photograph, placed in this way
for his amusement.  She felt like saying, "Take a picture.  It will
last longer," but she kept her silence, fearing that he might demand
more liberties if she were insolent.

That evening began with a repeat of the earlier bizarre request and
she snapped her legs apart and pulled her lips apart almost before he
had finished making his request.  There was something new this time.

First, he made an additional demand.  "Put a finger into your cunt."

The word "cunt" was one she had heard, but it had vulgar
connotations.  Still, she wasn't about to quibble with his vocabulary
under the circumstances, so she put her right index finger at the
entrance to her pussy and slowly pushed it in.

"Move it in and out."

She began to move her finger in and out and watched her hand move
between her thighs as she kept an eye on him.  She became briefly
frightened when she saw him undo his pants and pull out his penis,
but he remained seated, massaging his cock and that seemed harmless
enough.  It was now obvious that he derived sexual pleasure from
watching her.  She assumed that had been the real reason for her
imprisonment from the start.

In spite of the discomfort of keeping her head elevated, she watched
intently as he held his cock in one hand and rubbed it with his other
fist.  She had seen a penis before, but it had not been erect, nor
nearly as large as this one.  Despite herself, she felt twinges of
pleasure from the friction of her finger, but she dismissed them as
she kept her attention focused on her captor.

He soon ejaculated as she watched in fascination.  Once again, she
had heard of this, but only in the clinical drone of her sex
education teacher.  She had never seen anyone enjoy such intense
pleasure as he appeared to be experiencing.

He stood, still holding his cum covered cock, and approached the foot
of the bed.  She almost panicked.  Removing her hands from between
her legs, she put them at her sides preparing to flee.  His movements
were slow, however, and she lay still.

He took some cum from his cock by scooping it onto his finger.
Slowly and deliberately, he wiped his finger on her hairless cunt
lips and the slit between.  As he turned to walk back to his chair,
he zipped and fastened his pants, wiping his hands on his thighs.

She wasn't sure what he had in mind, so she just lay there.  She
could see some of the cum on her pubis as she looked between her
still spread legs at the man.  A short time later, he rose and left
through the door.

She returned her attention to the white liquid on her pubis.  She was
both disgusted and curious as she gingerly touched it with her
finger.  It was slippery and gooey; not at all like she had pictured
from the descriptions she got in sex ed.  She lifted her finger to
her nose and smelled.  Wrinkling her nose, she decided that she did
not like the smell and quickly wiped it on the sheets.  Feeling her
pussy, it was evident there was still a lot remaining and she rose
and went to the bathroom where she used toilet paper to wipe off the
rest.

Sensing that his actions might become even more aggressive sexually,
she again determined to escape.  Looking around her now familiar
surroundings, a plan took shape.  She decided to hide behind the
door, which opened inward, and leave some clue that she was in the
bathroom.  When he walked into the room after opening the door, she
would quickly dash through the door to freedom.  She would only have
a short time before he knew she was gone, but long enough to reach
the outside if she could find her way through the halls to an exit.
She remembered every detail of what the hall outside looked like, and
that gave her some advantage though not a precise guide.

There was no way to predict the exact time of the morning he would
return, so after her preparations were made, she stood where she
would be hidden by the opening door for so long that her legs began
to ache.  When she heard the handle jiggle, her heart began to race.
She could hardly breathe and didn't want to make noise anyway, so she
flattened herself against the wall and waited.

When the door opened, she knew the man would see the empty bed.  She
also knew he would be carrying a tray of food that he would need to
set down before he did anything else.  No matter where he went to set
the food down, the door would remain open and his back would be
towards her and the door.  That would be the time to move quickly and
quietly into the hall.

The door opened, and there was no immediate indication of movement.
She could not hear him move or see his shadow, so she continued to
listen quietly, scarcely breathing.  Was he waiting for her to exit
the closed bathroom door?

Suddenly, his face appeared and she didn't know what to do.  Her
plans had been dashed and it appeared that he had already anticipated
this ploy.  She backed up along the wall, but he didn't move.  He
just stood there holding the breakfast tray and, as his eyes followed
her, she could see disappointment and anger in his expression.  When
she was a few feet away, she walked quickly to the bed and lay down
with her legs straight and her arms by her sides.  Although looking
straight up, she saw him move out of the corner of her eye to the
dresser and she began to sob.

She put up no resistance as he placed the ties around her wrists and
ankles and secured her to the four corners of the bed.  Although she
had closed her eyes, tears continued to flow down her temples and
into her ears.

She did not hear him leave, but after the door had shut, she looked
up.  There was no tray of food and, even if there were, she couldn't
get to it.  She cried for her failure, her hunger, her lost freedom,
and -- just because.  She sobbed quietly for a while longer before
boredom took over and she slept.


Chapter 2

An urge to urinate awakened her.  She was also hungry, but she
*really* needed to go to the bathroom.  Lying with each of her four
extremities tied to a bedpost, she contemplated urinating on her bed,
but then she would have to sleep in it.  The horror of sleeping in
the smaller room with the odor of urine and feces caused her to feel
sincere regret at her previous attempt to escape.  Perhaps there was
something she could do to avoid a repeat of that nightmare.

She remembered that he had said to just yell if she needed to go to
the bathroom when he first tied her up.  Maybe he didn't want her to
mess up the bed either.  She yelled, "Hey Mister!  I need to go to
the bathroom," but was rewarded with only silence.

Now she knew she had really screwed up.  She thought about what he
wanted; to look at her.  Maybe to do more.  She weighed the situation
and determined never to lie in her own urine again if she could avoid
it, regardless of the cost.  Anything would be better than that.  Her
discomfort convinced her that it was now or never; time to act.

"Mister!  I'll do anything you want.  Anything!  You can watch me or
touch me.  Just tell me what you want!"  she cried in desperation.
"I promise never to try that again.  I'll be a good girl!  I promise!"

It was getting to the point where she had to grimace to avoid wetting
the bed.  It had been many years since she had done that and she was
not about to do that again.

The door opened and she saw him standing there.  She was hoping he
had come to let her go to the bathroom, but regardless of his
intentions, she was grateful to see him.

"Thank you for coming back," she said.  "I meant what I said."

She heaved a sigh of relief as he began to unfasten the ties around
her wrists and ankles.  She appreciated his helping hand as she sat
up on the side of the bed, no longer jumping at his touch.  He
escorted her into the bathroom and, instead of waiting outside,
walked in with her.  She was sure it was because he distrusted her as
she turned and sat on the toilet, putting her elbows on her knees and
resting her chin on her hands.

Just as she was about to start urinating, he touched both of her
knees and pushed them gently apart.  She did not resist and even
moved them voluntarily when she realized he wanted them apart, but
she was not clear about why he was doing it.

She saw him squat in front of her with all of his attention focused
between her legs and she realized that he wanted to see her pee.  Or
else he picked a strange time to start his looking.  Not able to hold
back any longer, she stopped her contemplation and started to pee.
The sense of relief was exquisite and she sighed again as the urine
flowed into the toilet.  She noticed his eyes following the stream
and made a note to herself that this was interesting to him.  It was
another pleasure that she could give him, and she figured the more
she could please him the less likely he was to keep her tied up.

She didn't know if there was anything she should be doing besides
urinating, so she didn't take any chances.  Finishing after what
seemed like minutes, she stayed with her legs spread until he stood
again.  She followed his gaze for clues about what to do next and, as
he stepped back, she wiped herself with toilet paper, flushed the
toilet, and followed him back into the bedroom.

Keeping in mind the promise she made to herself, she decided to
anticipate his instructions to the extent that she could given his
previous requests.  She immediately lay down on the bed and spread
her legs wide as she watched to see what he would do.  As she had
hoped, he walked to the end of the bed and sat in his chair.
Remembering the last time he had her do this, she took it upon
herself to resume the motions as he had instructed her.

She spread her smooth pussy lips, stuck her index finger into her
vagina, and began to move it back and forth as before.  He unzipped
his pants as before, so she was comforted to know that she could
still stimulate him.  She was doing all this without being tied, and
still grateful for being untied.  Her determination focused on her
goal of regaining the freedom and trust she had before her escape
attempt.

"Move your hips up and down while you do that," he softly ordered.

She did as he ordered and found it easiest to move her finger in
while her hips moved up and move it out when her hips returned to the
bed.  Up and in, down and out she repeated over and over,
concentrating on getting it just right.  To accentuate her
cooperation, her movements were almost exaggerated: She stuck her
finger in as far as she could, clear up to the knuckle, and moved her
hips as much as they could move while she was on her back.  She
hardly noticed as he rose and walked to the bed.

At first, she thought he had come for a closer look at her handiwork.
When she saw his erect penis in his hand, she wondered what else he
might have in mind, but she decided she didn't care.  She kept up her
enthusiastic fingering even as he got beside her on the bed and held
his cock over her stomach.

Her movements continued uninterrupted as she watched his cock in
fascination.  So close up!  She could see every detail as she stared
unabashedly while he stroked it back and forth.  She only paused
briefly when the penis began to squirt liquid.  He seemed to be
aiming it as he squirted first on her abdomen, then her chest, then
back to her abdomen, finally dribbling the remainder onto her
hairless pubis.

Even though he was finished cumming, she continued the fingering and
hip movements until he took his right hand and gently grasped her
right arm.  She passively allowed him to move her arm to her side,
noting that some of the cum from his hand stuck to her arm.  He
lifted her hand and slowly licked and sucked her index finger that
had been in her cunt.  She noted that he liked the taste of her cunt
juices.  That, too, she would remember.  When he lay her arm by her
side, she let go of her other pussy lip and lay her head back, lying
with her arms by her sides and waiting for his next move.

She followed his hand with her eyes as it reached for her abdomen.
Not even flinching, she watched his hand trace patterns in the cum on
her abdomen and chest.  In so doing, his fingers became coated with
cum.  He then lifted his fingers to her face and she looked into his
eyes as he gently spread the cum over her lips.  With slight
pressure, he indicated that she should open her mouth.  As soon as
she understood, she cooperated without hesitation.  His finger,
coated with cum, slipped in between her lips, lubricating as it went.
Remembering how he had licked and sucked her finger, she decided
that was what he wanted her to do, so she proceeded to lick the cum
from all sides and swallow his finger as deep as she could.

He withdrew his finger and returned his hand to her abdomen.
Scooping up a generous quantity of semen, his hand lifted to her face
again, but as she opened her mouth, expecting to be fed the expended
cum, he wiped her cheeks, chin, and nose.  She kept her mouth open
slightly nonetheless and a drip fell from her nose to her upper lip
and then slowly fell into her mouth.  Without closing her mouth, she
gingerly stuck her tongue to her lip and removed the remaining cum
there.

The salty taste was not that unpleasant, she decided, and compared
with the alternatives she envisioned, it was downright tasty.  Being
hungry didn't hurt.

After he watched the movements of her tongue, he moved his hand to
her flat chest and scooped up another large dollop.  Lifting it to
her face, her mouth still open, he poured the now sticky cum into her
waiting mouth.  She closed her mouth long enough to swallow and then
opened up again.  The sight was strangely reminiscent of an adult
bird feeding its young.

He placed the flat of his hand onto her chest and rubbed in generous
circles around where her breasts would be before moving lower to her
abdomen.  When he started to rub towards her pubis, she anticipated
his move and, spreading her legs, tilted her hips so that his hand
glided effortlessly onto her hairless vulva.  As his hand lingered
between her legs, she moved her hips up and down to save him the
effort of moving his arm.  His hand gradually increased pressure and
she continued to hump his hand when she noticed a brief and exquisite
sensation that was distinctly pleasurable.  Her hip motions increased
in frequency as he held his hand still and she had yet another,
stronger sensation that took her breath away.

From watching his face, she could tell he was pleased; his attention
focused on her smooth cunt slick with his cum and her movements.
Soon he removed his hand and, ironically, she had wished it to remain
for a while longer.

He sat back on his heals and his eyes traveled over her cum-slick
preteen body.  Although she wasn't sure why, she moved her own hand
to where his was and resumed the humping motions until she finally
felt the same sensation, so intense that she closed her eyes and
cried out briefly before she relaxed totally and completely.

She could feel the cum on her face beginning to dry as he stood and
motioned for her to follow him saying, "Come on."

Without a word, she rose and took his hand as they walked into the
hall.  He led her along the familiar passageway to the bathroom where
he had first bathed her.  She looked into the mirror and saw streams
of cum over her cheeks and nose.  Her body was shiny and slick as she
moved her hands over her chest and abdomen before she turned her
attention to the man.

The tub was filling as he monitored the temperature with his hands,
seemingly paying no attention to Sandy.  At the moment, she had no
inclination to escape; her thoughts rested on the bath and perhaps
food later.

When the tub was full, he turned off the water and stood back to
allow her to enter.  She noticed that this time there was no bubble
bath and wondered if this was part of her punishment.  As much as she
despised the bubble bath before, she missed it now.

Sitting in the tub, she let him bathe her as before.  She did not
resist and even helped him as he washed every part of her body.  Some
of his actions were clearly not only intended to clean.  When his
hands moved to her inner thighs there was no washcloth, no soap.  She
spread her legs as far as she could to let him reach between and his
hands spent time running over her soft silky cuntlips before he
resumed washing her legs.

After a gentle shampoo and rinse, she stood and dried off with the
towel he offered.  This time, she left the bathtowel on the floor as
she again took his hand to walk back to her bedroom.

He let her lay down and pulled the sheets to cover her still naked
body.  She curled onto her side as she watched him leave and drifted
off to sleep.

It was only a few minutes later that he reappeared with supper and
sat quietly as she ate.  When she had finished, she thanked him.
Just a brief "Thank you," but it meant more.

After that, it was a rare thing for him to sit and just watch her.
He became increasingly involved with direct contact in one form or
another.  Finally, he would remove all of his clothes when he came
into the room before approaching the bed.

After breakfast, about a week later, he lay down on the bed naked
while she lay on her side and supported herself with her elbow.  He
reached out and took her other hand and guided it to his erect penis,
folding her fingers around it.  It seemed massive to her as she held
the rigid cock and examined it.  When she didn't move, he put his
hand on her arm to show her how to move her hand to give him
pleasure.  She learned quickly and moved it up and down, recognizing
the movements as similar to what he had done before to himself before
he would cum.

The now familiar expressions on his face told her that the time was
close and she increased the speed of her movements.  With a spasm and
a groan, he shot cum onto his abdomen and streams fell down the sides
and around her fingers.  When the twitches from his cock ceased, she
slowly removed her hand and, making sure he was watching, licked the
cum off of her fingers as she had licked it off of his before.

Looking at the cum on his stomach, she first thought of rubbing it
in, but then decided to try something she thought would please him
more.  She bent over and slurped the droplets of cum that were
scattered from his upper to his lower stomach, licking some and
sucking others into her mouth.  His cock was still partially erect
and covered with cum.  Not sure if he really wanted it, she slowly
and hesitantly grasped his cock and milked out another couple of
drops which she gathered onto her tongue.  With her tongue holding
the drops, she turned her head and saw the expression of pleasure on
his face.  She made a big deal of swallowing the collected cum before
returning her attention to his now somewhat more erect phallus.

She was about to lick it when he said, "Put your mouth over it."

She grasped the base and wrapped her lips around as much as would
fit, but then remembered she had promised there would be no halfway
measures.  Realigning her body, she forced even more into her mouth.
Meeting resistance and the gag reflex nearly stopped her, but with
patience and relaxation, she finally had his entire cock in her mouth
and down her throat.  Her nose, buried in his pubic hair, inhaled the
aroma of cologne and sweat.  Not at all unpleasant, she decided.  She
became somewhat alarmed at first as it began to get even larger, and
she was not able to breathe, so she pulled back for a moment before
slowly plunging it in again.

"That's it," he groaned.

It was the motion, she realized, that had pleased him.  She began to
make her whole body move back and forth to reproduce the movements
she had seen his hands make, breathing when the penis was shallow and
falling into a rhythm that was slow and deliberate.

She was slightly taken aback when he soon grabbed her head, held it
and thrust into her mouth and throat until she felt the warm liquid
easing down her throat and knew he had cum again.  He quickly let her
up and she coughed and caught her breath.

"Was that ok?"  she asked.

"Perfect.  Absolutely perfect," he replied as he gently wiped the cum
into her lips.  She stuck her tongue out and caressed his finger
until he withdrew it.

Several days passed when all they did was fondle.  He encouraged her
to massage his penis as he rubbed her cunt and she learned what
pleased her as well as what pleased him.  Finally, she took the
initiative of placing her mouth over the head of his penis.  Instead
of letting her continue, he lay her back and spread her legs.  He
placed himself between her legs and his cock on the lips of her pussy.

"It won't fit!"  she thought, but he simply rubbed the head against
her lips and clitoris and then moved his hips as though fucking her,
but with the phallus rubbing her pubis.  She was expecting him to cum
like that when he stopped, sat back and began to massage his own
penis.

"I'm going to cum in your mouth," he said.

She opened her mouth wide in anticipation and he straddled her chest.
Rather than putting his cock into her mouth, he held the head on her
bottom lip and continued to stroke himself until finally he began to
shoot volumes of cum into her mouth.  She lay still with her mouth
wide open and collected the semen as he finished with a dribble.

Her mouth now open and almost full of cum, he stared for a few
moments and then moved to the side.  She closed her mouth and
swallowed as he looked on.

That night, captor and captive slept together, and she felt warm, and
comfortable, and completely at ease.  She was entirely dependent upon
him, and content to satisfy any wish he may have.  It was no longer
fear that motivated her.  Well, not entirely, except for the fear
that he would abandon her.  Her joy was proportional to the amount of
time he spent with her and when he was not there, she was alone.  All
of the sorrow and misery she felt she began to attribute to his
absence.  She had become so devoted to him that he could do no wrong.

There was a new addition to the room soon.  He had installed
television cameras in several places and other types of photographic
equipment.  He would ask her to pose, or dance, and she would pretend
she was a fashion model and acted as sexy as she knew how.  Their
intimate moments were also photographed and taped.  She imagined he
wanted to have those to remember her with forever.

Even after the sex, there were photo's to be taken.  He once asked
her to close her eyes and smile as he came on her face and then,
afterwards, took close-up pictures of the "results."  At other times,
he would cum on her abdomen, chest, pussy, or even her butt and then
take photos -- some of which he posed with himself in the
photographs, or at least his cock.

He never showed her the photographs.  Once taken, they seemed to
vanish, but she felt sure he kept them somewhere.  Although she never
saw them, she could imagine what they showed, and she did her best to
be sure they showed plenty.

He did finally bring some magazines to show her.  They showed women
and men in various poses of a sexual nature and he would suggest they
try this or that.  She never refused him.  There was no suggestion,
however, of vaginal intercourse.  She was just too small.

She did see some photographs of women with cocks in the anus.  "I bet
I could do that," she declared.  And she got her chance.  Later, he
brought lubrication into the room.  He lay her on her back with her
legs in the air and got between her legs before he spread lubrication
on his cock and her vulva and anus.  As he pressed into her delicate
orifice, she worried that the pain would be too much, but with
determination and his encouragement, he was able to penetrate.  She
watched his face as he held her ankles and thrust and felt the penis
going in and out.  Her body moved to and fro from the force and she
felt like a part of him.  She was his entirely now.

At other times, he would approach her from behind, doggie style, and
at yet other times, she would sit on his lap while he thrust into her
anus.  She could actually experience tremendous pleasure this way.
She was totally opened and facing a camera, with him inside of her,
legs spread to show her pussy and his cock entering her anus, and the
pleasure would become excruciating.

There were the "toys" too.  Various items of different sizes that he
would put into her vagina or anus before taking a number of pictures
from different angles.  Over time, the items that he would stick into
her vagina increased in size, and discomfort, but she would get past
the pain and smile during the photographs.  It became apparent that
her vagina was stretching and, when it had reached an appropriate
size, she knew she could take his penis in her vagina.

As he prepared to insert his well lubricated cock into her anus, she
reached between her legs and took his cock into her hand, guiding it
to her pussy.  As he remained motionless, she moved her body towards
him and slowly engulfed his cock.  It burned some, but she didn't
yell or cry and when he was in as deep as it would go, she moved her
body back and forth as she did sometimes when he had been in her
anus.  When he came, the pain was intense.  Even after he withdrew,
she continued to burn.  There was also some blood.

Although there was pain and even bleeding, she knew he had been well
pleased, so she planned to continue to fuck him despite the pain.  To
her surprise, the next time was not nearly as painful.  The next,
hardly painful at all and finally, there was no pain.  That was when
she experienced such orgasmic delight that she passed out.

When she awoke, he was lying next to her stroking her head.  She
reached up and placed her hand behind his neck and pulled his face to
hers for her first kiss.

As they lay there naked, the door suddenly burst open and a policeman
grabbed the man and pulled him to the floor.  Sandy was shocked and
immediately grabbed the lamp on the nightstand and began to strike
the policeman on the head.

"Leave him alone!"  she cried as she continued to batter the
policeman.  A second policeman grabbed her and pulled her back.  The
first policeman was not really hurt since the lampshade was about the
only thing hitting him, but he rubbed his head and looked at her for
a moment before placing handcuffs on the man.

"Go away!"  she kept crying as tears poured from her eyes.  "Leave us
alone!  We didn't do anything wrong!"

It was much later while sitting in the police station, fully clothed,
that she started to think about the rest of the world.  Her family!
Where were they?  Almost as soon as she thought about this, her
mother walked in and hugged her.  The familiar hair, the smell of her
perfume, and even the dress her mother wore all hit her at the same
time.  She hugged her mother back and began to cry.  She had
forgotten how much she missed her family.  She cried for joy and she
cried because she felt guilt at having forgotten those who loved her
the most.

Her world was turned around for the second time in her young life.
The part of her that knew the intimacy of sex and the pleasure of a
man was not gone; it remained dormant under her little girl clothes.
Her mother could not know, but her little girl would never be the
same.

End of Stockholm by Rider

Rider in the Sky <Rider@nym.alias.net>

