The Return part 1 by Foxbat  (MF NC, abduct, bondage, breath, anal, slow) 

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The Return part 1 by Foxbat  (MF NC, abduct, bondage, breath, anal, slow)

   The girl who sat across from the psychiatrist was different from his other clients.  She was dressed respectably although in jeans, with a red-star army cap and her blond hair back in a bun.  She wasn't quite small enough to be petit, but she had the cute graceful energy to her movements characteristic of small women.  Her face radiated confidence, but boredom as well.  She was a middle child (two sisters), parents divorced (father was a deadbeat) from a lower-middle class family.  She held the doctors gaze when he looked at her.  Most long-term kidnap and sex abuse victims could not do this.

   "How have things been?"

   "What am I supposed to say?  I'm a semester away from graduating college.  I'm older than everybody."

   She had been abducted as a high school sophomore and kept for three years.  Oddly, her captor had enrolled her on correspondence college courses, but there was of course no transcript.  Nonetheless, with understanding from the College, she had enrolled in college after coming back and was graduating early now, three years after mysteriously reappearing one night in her old bed in her mother's home.  

   "Do you know what you want to do afterwards?"

   Hesitation.  "I have a few plans.  Maybe be a secretary.  Maybe model.  Maybe both."

   "Love life?"

   "Sucks.  College boys don't know anything - in bed, or even about how to get in it.  My experiments with older men have so far been disappointing too."

   "Sex?"

   "Are you asking me about the thing?"

   "Do you want to talk about it?"

   "Fine.  Yes, I've orgasmed without, twice, masturbating both times.  Still nothing with other guys.  And I really don't think there's anything wrong about it - people have way weirder things.  Maybe that's just mine."

   "How's your health been?"

   "Well, going from daily yoga to Thursday night keggers added a few, but I'm back in good shape.  It's important."

   "Yes, I agree.  Any other thoughts?"

   "Life just seems kind of trite right now.  Maybe that will change when I get a job."

   "Still smoking?"

   "Tobacco?  No.  Weed?  A lot."

   "Is it helping?"

   "Are we done?"

   "Has Norman tried to contact you?"

   "Who the fuck is Norman?"

   "The name you chose last session to divest your former captor of linguistic control -"

   "Oh yeah.  Master."

   "It's an important part of therapy to -"

   "Yeah.  I know.  Norman.  Fine.  Oh - no, no contact.  And yes, if there is, I will report it.  Can we remember for a minute here that it was *my* ass that got raped for two years?"

***

   She had not told the shrink about the "anniversary present" she'd mysterious received a year ago - it was a black leather locking collar (with a key).  A simple card accompanied it, signed only "Daddy."  That had been her thing - but he'd encouraged her to work it in and had deployed it with devastatingly orgasmic effect several times.  She had not disclosed that to the shrinks either.

   She rolled over on the bed, one hand drifting up to finger the collar, which she now wore underneath a hooded sweatshirt.  The other hand drifted downwards.  

   The alarm clock beeped.  She was late to chapter meeting.  Joining a sorority had been such a stupid idea.  She had disappeared during rush week, after pledging.  Coming back, it had seemed like a good way to meet people, to get out.  But it was just full of more young and vapid girls.  And the fraternities were even worse.  Even when she'd bagged the most notorious womanizer, he'd asked her at least 7 times if he was doing it right, even if one or two were solely to elicit praise.  Even the one really sketchy towny she found to treat her rough and slap her around came too soon, leaving her with a fat lip and no satisfaction.

   Taking off the collar to get dressed up, she thought back with what she had come to accept was a kind of fondness.  She had been the head of the house - a perverted sort of secretary and personal assistant.  Among all the slaves, she assigned duties and privileges, scheduled the Master's time, made sure his evenings and weekends were exciting, and supervised daily activity and meal preparation.   She ate at the table with Master; she slept in Master's real bed, upstairs.  She knew his tastes, his twisted desires like none of the others.  She was an artistic director also - of the taped pain/sex-performances Master loved - casting, blocking, and directing, sometimes filming.  She was occasionally punished, sometimes for the bad acts of slaves under her supervision, sometimes for her own behavior, sometimes just because Master needed to.  He had only tortured her seriously once or twice.  She knew she lacked now the sense of purpose, of urgency, that she had had back then.  Being a secretary to a powerful man was about as close to recapturing that as she thought she could get in a job.

***

   She gave him two condoms.  Both packages with the foil torn open, but neither with the condom removed.  

   "First, finger my ass roughly.  Just work it a little bit.  Smack my ass if you want to.  Then, after a few minutes, whenever you're ready, fuck my ass.  Just put the lube on your dick, and don't worry about me.  At some point, I'll tell you to switch.  You'll then use the second condom and fuck my pussy.  Please don't come before that, but feel free to any time afterwards."

   She had chosen him from over two hundred replies to her craigslist post for an older man who could follow directions in mistreating a hot college girl.  

   She was already naked and got down on her hands and knees on the floor, her ass arched invitingly upwards.  He straddled her facing the other way, and probed her anus delicately with one finger.  

   "Cut the foreplay."

   He shoved his finger in to the knuckle, twisting it, but not wiggling it side to side as Master used to.  He continued finger fucking her without change until she barked at him just to skip this part and fuck her.

   His cock was just as his photo had suggested, but his curvature was somewhat different from Master's.  She felt him push in, slowly, waiting for her to adjust.  

   "What part of 'roughly' did you not understand?  Fuck me!"  She pushed back against him twice, causing him to take two deep strokes.  This part wasn't that bad.  

   He took the suggestion, and began fucking her in earnest, slapping her ass and leaving large red handprints as he did.  He pushed her down further with one hand on her back, and she held off the urge to masturbate.

   Giving out, her hand shot to her clit.

   "Put it in my pussy now."

   She heard the sound of him changing condoms.  She waited.

   He entered her more forcefully this time.  

   "Pull on the fucking leash.  Choke me.  And fuck me harder.  And don't ask if you're doing it right."

   He complied, and two minutes later she came.  Not hard, but not a meager orgasm.  It would satisfy her for a while.  She dismissed the gentleman, and took a hot shower.  Master had said he would be in contact.  

   ***

   She thought back to the night a week before she left Master's Household.  She knew all his slaves rotated - none stayed more than four years (except the gimp of course).  She had just expected she would be there for four as well, but he had pulled her aside one night after dinner to have a private conversation where he'd explained her options for leaving.  She had chosen just to "reappear" back in her old life in exchange for limited cooperation with police.  She had believed him when he said he would be monitoring her - he must have been a very wealthy man.

   He had read her an old proverb that he said had hung in his grandmother's house.  It was the only time he'd ever mentioned a family member, and it seemed strange.  The proverb had read, "If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you, it's yours. If it doesn't, it never was."  It was also strange, because her entire relationship with him - established from the start of her captivity - was that he owned her.  She was happy to leave on the one hand - the anger and fear and resentment of her first days were not totally forgotten.  But she was also disappointed, upset.  

   She had been a virgin when she was taken.  For the first week, she'd been kept high on scopolamine, a drug extract from a South American tree which leaves is takers extremely compliant while they're high and completely unable to remember that time after they come down.  Her much later research revealed that the CIA used it as a truth serum periodically.  During that time, she was interviewed for hours.  About her family, her health history, her romantic history, her sex history, her fantasies, her masturbation habits, her dreams, and her anxieties.  He'd shown her parts of these recorded interviews, but only later.  It had emerged that she was a virgin, despite being somewhat popular and very attractive.  After the end of the week of interviewing (his "preview" week, as Master called it), she awoke from the drugs to be informed that he'd decided to keep her on for a longer term and train her as a slave.  She would be forced to do anything commanded, but that he would respect her virginity, as least vaginally.

   That last week, before she awoke back in her mother's house, she had finally lost her virginity to Master.  She'd always assumed he would just lose patience and take it one day despite his promise, but he always held back.  He had learned to make her cum with tendon-popping toe-curling orgasm from stimulation in other ways, but he had never once even tried.  She had invited him to, and that last week had been memorable indeed.


***


   She waited nervously, naked other than knee socks, but not bothered by that.  She had spent three years almost continuously naked.  But the waiting was hard.  It had always been.

   This was her second Craigslist encounter.  The first had been kind of exciting, but she'd been trying too hard to re-create an experience with Master, and had been mentally grading her "nsa friend" for his shortcomings compared to Master.  She thought she might take it slower this time, and try to make it a little more original, organic.  Perhaps she should just imagine it as being one of the "scenes" she sometimes directed/filmed/edited/acted in with Master.

   Her pacing was interrupted by a knock at the door.  She rushed to the door, and, making sure the safety latch was secure, opened it a crack.  Her heart froze as she peaked through the crack and saw Master.

***

   It was two minutes later, and they were seated inside, she on the couch and he in an armchair.  

   "This is kind of awkward, but I think I'm sort of expecting someone."

   "Oh?  Oh - Robert, from craigslist?  Yes.  I took care of him."

   "took care of him?"

   "Yes.  I caught him outside.  Told him you were a post-op tranny.  We don't have to worry about him."

   "How..."

   "I always know."

   Silence.

   "Why are you here?"

   "You tell me."

   "Are you going to take me back?"

   "You know that's not the case.  Acknowledge what you know."

   "You're here to ask me if I want to come back?"

   "Yes.  From here onwards, you have a choice.  You may come back whenever you want, and you may leave whenever you want.  But if you choose to leave a subsequent time, it will be forever.  If you say yes and come back, you will belong once again to me.  You will submit to my will, and live to serve me.  That will not change.  But you will have more privileges than before, including some communication and occasional trips into the outside world.  You will not disappear, but instead you will choose openly to work for me and to live with me.  A small cottage will be prepared for appearances' sake.  You need not decide right now."

   "Thank you, Master."

   She looked still dazed, like it hadn't quite yet sunken in.  The sun glinted in her blond hair through the blinds as she wore an expression of expectance, of need.

   "Here is an email address by which you may reach me if and when you decide to so."  He placed a small plain card with a handwritten address on the end-table.  "And I suppose that, before I leave, I should give you what you were looking for on craigslist..."  


***

   He took off his belt and put it around her neck, holding on to the non-buckle end and pulled it just tighter than snug in an upwards direction.  Her hands, previously passive, flew to the belt as it cut slightly into her neck.  He then pushed two fingers of his other hand roughly into her pussy, curling them until he found just the right spot and then roughly jerking them upwards and forwards, back and forth.  One of her hands dropped to grab his wrist and arrest the movement.  She gargled around the belt and her eyes fluttered.  It was the spot he'd found during their last week together, and it triggered endless savage orgasms.  He wrapped the belt one turn tighter in his hand, his other hand moving faster and more forcefully now.  The color of her face, already red, deepened, and the belt choked what would have been screaming.  Her whole body spasmed and then dropped, and he momentarily loosened the belt, enough for her to have one giant heaving breath before it again clamped down.  High from the oxygen rush, her eyes rolled back in her head, only to be brought front as he slapped her face hard twice.  When he then slapped her exposed pussy several times rapidly (but hard), her vision exploded in stars and swirls and she spasmed again just before blacking out.  Her hands had remained at her sides the whole time, and she had made no attempt to block the blows.







---
Foxbat



I'm sorry I've written so little the last year or two.  I think this has to be potential to be a fertile world for some good plotlines I've had kicking around.  Also, I'd love to hear if you particular enjoyed any of the Snippets (1 or 2), and would like to see an expansion of it.

As always, I love hearing what you think (good or bad) and anything else on your mind.

Fox





