Whip me, I'm Yours

I was thinking of all the things I have to do when the car careened out of control and nearly hit the concrete abutment on the side of the road. As I recovered from the skid I knew the cause was so much stress at work and chores at home that I couldn't keep my mind on what I was doing.

When I arrived at home I asked my husband Kevin to take make me one of his good martinis and take me out to dinner. I didn't change my clothes so I was still wearing a dress and heels as I sat down in a dimly lit, secluded, booth.

You cannot just walk away from a career. Work was too demanding and even if I were to schedule a vacation I was booked for another 2 months before I could get a week off. I felt I had trapped myself

I spilled my troubles out with tears at times. Kevin listened attentively and occasionally offered suggestions, maid service to help with the house work and the like. He told me to take a vacation maybe half with him and half by myself. He told me I needed a distraction from my career and something new to think about. I appreciated Kevin. He was always sensitive and often had good solutions.

This time I had let things build up too much and we hadn't had sex for I don't remember when. I began weeping softly feeling guilty for not being the wife I wanted and promised to be. I don't even remember when I had gotten home before 9 PM and I worked weekends at our home office. The chasm between my career and my personal life was so wide I couldn't see how to get them back together.

Kevin ordered me another dry gin martini. He took me home and he made love to me for dessert. It was very touching and took the edge off enough so I orgasmed instead of crying.

As I rushed off to work the next morning I didn't notice my stockings had a run in them and my skirt was too short for our dress code. I hadn't worn this skirt and blouse for 2 years. Wearing the wrong clothing was a symptom of my stress level, nothing more.

As soon as I got to work I took time to set up a vacation for as soon as possible. Days end found me with my short skirt and mismatching blouse on and no hose due to the run. I ran out to the car and started home.

While waiting for the red light at Main Street and Washington Avenue my door popped open and I was dragged out. I started to struggle already finding myself on the floor of a van. I tried to sit up and bite the hands holding me down. The next thing I knew I was blindfolded and in handcuffs which was about five seconds.

I began to think, Why me? We don't have money. I'm not pretty. My husband is not important.

It was what seemed like ½ hour when the van stopped and I was roughly pulled from the vehicle and with someone bunching up my hair pushed me in front of them.

I started to get my wits and tried to take note of anything that would give me clues to tell the police for later. I felt my legs collapse as it came to me that I may be killed. I couldn't get my breath and I remember my mind began to swirl and I started to shake then a prick in the right elbow vein in my arm made my vision somehow narrow.

Next I was shivering when I came to. My hands were tied together and I was hanging from the ceiling and the toes of my high heels were all that were on the floor. My wrists hurt and I was still blinded. It was drafty making my skirt flutter a little.

As my mind began to clear again I tried to take note of noises and sense clues as to where I was. I jumped when someone near me spoke realizing that nothing had been said up until now. I hadn't spoken either. The voice was male but sounded muffled without inflection of emotion.

I was informed that he had nothing to do this weekend and decided to get a pretty girl and teach her bondage and discipline. I had never known that much fear before and my teeth chattered as I felt my blouse being opened without unbuttoning. My bra was next followed by my skirt leaving only my panties and shoes. I heard what I thought was a whip crack and felt a sting on my ass making me cry out. Fully awake now it occurred to me that I might be heard and subsequently rescued so I began screaming.

My wrists were suddenly let go and I fell to the floor in a heap and then thrown to a mattress with a satin sheet on it. I heard and then felt the whip again. It didn't really hurt me, but it did humiliate and anger me at the same time.

I had stopped screaming when I heard the voice again, "your panties are wet so you must be enjoying this."

I was shocked to think someone thought I enjoyed this, and yet, why wasn't I struggling? Why didn't I keep screaming? Why was I wet between my legs? My panties were ripped from between my legs. The disembodied voice boomed again" you have the worst fashion sense."

I thought I had good fashion sense! Well, lately I wore whatever I found in the drawer or closet, but that was because I was too busy to clean and wash my clothes.

When I thought about it he was right; I looked ridiculous in some of the outfits I'd been wearing to work. The colors didn't match and just today absentmindedly wearing that short skirt and torn pantyhose and black shoes with a white skirt. The panties were stained and didn't match my bra. I used to be caring about my choice in lingerie, my outfits matched.

The crack of the whip in air and a sting on my rear made me instinctively yelp. I thought of Kevin sitting at home waiting for me. Wondering what happened to me. The police would be involved due to me taken in front of witnesses. My car abandon at a traffic light.

I heard the whip again and sting and I yelped again. I felt the wetness of tears on my cheeks and the wetness of excitement between my legs. In between the stings of the whip I tried to ask what I had done and in between stings I was told to keep silent like a good slave until I was told I could speak.

I was between a betrayal of my own body and a betrayal of another human being to his fellow man. I might die! I realized the whipping had stopped. The voice told me to stand up and turn around 180 degrees. I held my breath and began to move but not fast enough for this man. Sternly he repeated get up! I stood a little quicker but he didn't wait for me to turn around he grabbed me roughly and spun me around. His hands were calloused and large but dexterous. He had a musky scent of a hard working man about him that always made my juices flow even though I'd never told anyone. It made me think of Kevin with the police thinking up a plan to save me, wire taps of the phone and so on.

My captor seemed to be more than a man looking for money. Even though my blind fold was on I sensed that he just wanted to what he called earlier teaching me bondage and discipline.

The voice began again talking of disciplining me to be a slut and love sex and start wearing sexy clothes. He asked me if I loved my husband enough. It suddenly came to me I hadn't said anything yet, all I had done vocally was yelp and occasionally scream. I was thinking that maybe I should not say anything when the man roared answer my question! Do you fuck your husband enough!

I reeled with fear and immediately spoke a word that came out before I thought it. It came from my subconscious mind that controls morality and deep thoughts of right and wrong.

"No! I answered softly but distinctly."

Silence reigned over a few seconds. Then quietly my antagonist responded, "So you admit you don't please your husband. What is he a wimp?"

The question infuriated me; I don't let anyone talk about my husband this way.

"You dirty bastard don't talk" the sting on my right cheek along with the slapping sound cut my sentence short. The blow made me lose balance as my hands were still cuffed. Falling backward on the mattress I felt the cool satin sheet envelope me.

The worst thing was is he knew I actually felt that way. I often wished Kevin was more confident. But he was the lovable Teddy Bear type, humble and sensitive.

The man grabbed my wrists and stood me with my arms extended and I was again tied to the ceiling with only the toes of my high heels touching.

He said he was disgusted with a woman who would marry a man and then not please him. His questions became graphic.

"Do you give him blowjobs?"

"No"

"Do you ride him with you on top?"

"No"

"Do you let him lick your cunt?"

"No"

"Do you keep yourself clean and available without panties so he can fuck you anytime he wants?"

"No"

"Do you let him fuck your ass?"

"Certainly not"

"Maybe It's about time you did act like a slut. You're an 8 on a 10 scale, I would say your around 40, you won't be worth looking at in another 15-20 years. Maybe it's a good thing that I nabbed you when I did for your husband's sake. He may appreciate that I whip some slut into you. While I have you, if you learn well enough, he may consider adding income by making you a whore?"

"I have a career" I was crying as I yelled.

"Men do too but they don't give up they're sexuality. They find sex somewhere. If I had you for a wife I'd be off looking for a slut to keep on the side."

It never occurred to me Kevin would look for another woman. What this man was saying was right. I knew down deep I neglected his Kevin's carnal needs. I just couldn't bring myself to do those dirty things.

"You're going to learn to be a slut no matter how long it takes me. I will train you to become a slut slave. You will discover how good it feels when you offer your sexy charms to any man. From now on you will call me Master or Sir and you will curtsy to me until I release you. Am I clear?"

I nodded my head only to hear the crack of the whip and as I corrected myself by saying "Yes Sir" simultaneously I felt the sting on my right tit.

Being blinded is a truly interesting experience because you learn to trust your own instincts. I was now having to trust myself to keep from being killed. My hands were let go and untied. This time I didn't collapse. I stood where I was until given directions from my Master.

"Kneel!" He took my hand and he placed it on a cock. I think it was his cock; after all, someone had to drive the car while I was being restrained. The Master spoke; "hold the cock in your hand like you shake hands with another person. Now slowly massage it." The man I could tell speaking to me was not directly above me. So I was stroking someone else.

"You are going to be doing a lot of fucking and sucking until you get it right. Now open your mouth." I hesitated. The crack of the whip and I had my mouth open as I felt the sting on my left tit this time it came from behind me.

As the cock slid in I bathed it in saliva. I thought I would gag. My hands untied I thought I might try to get my mask off. I thought better of it thinking if I could identify my captures might need to kill me I heard the crack sting on my left lower back.

"Suck it" the man demanded. Whosever's cock I had in my mouth wasn't saying anything. I didn't know how to do this. I began licking it like a lollypop. Then sucking on it as I do an ice cream cone, the job seemed to be getting the response that they expected. The cock I was sucking was attached to a groaning man at this time. I heard the whip and felt a sting around my left buttock. I heard a stern command from my master "suck harder and deeper."

I did not want to be whipped again although I was getting used to it. The last sting I didn't hardly flinch at all. I stuck my tongue out and licked the balls I knew would be there and elicited an eeyooww from the man attached to the appendage I vacuumed. For the first time in my life without warning the cock twitched and spurted salty nectar in my mouth. The second I felt it I wished with all my heart it was Kevin's at least the first time.

I figured I was done but I heard the crack and a sting on the globe of my left breast.

"Keep sucking to clean it" I was commanded. Momentarily my mouth did not have cock in it so I automatically responded "Yes Sir!"

I went back to sucking as I had before until the man himself removed it from me. I was trying to understand myself when I was ordered to lie on my back and spread my legs as far apart as I could. Why was I giving myself to this? Did I truly like it? Was I a whore and a slut at heart? Was this kidnapper and rapist and probably murderer, opening up something in my life that I repressed and never allowed the signals to surface before? I suddenly felt weight on my body a cock pushing at my perineum and the wetness from my cunt oiling my love triangle with a viscosity to allow painless penetration into my soul. A man's cock not of my choosing pushed its way into me and I said nothing. I didn't scream or say stop, I just relaxed and let the male have his way with me.

Did he know I would be pregnant with this coupling? Did he know he would have a child? Did he care? Was I crazy or was I experiencing something I hadn't known was inside my psyche before.

The feeling of a slight tingle began to blossom quickly into a gigantic orgasm. Surely I wouldn't let this attacker know I enjoyed this. The man was strong and each collision between my pelvis and his made me grunt which made another orgasm of the same magnitude surface and I couldn't quell the eruption of my ecstasy as it came from deep within me and out my mouth in a yowl and ended in a squeal. Warmness flooded my vagina and it became slippery and wet. The man had in all probability had impregnated me.

I don't think whoever it was cared about me because he pushed up from me causing his cock to be yanked out and he said lay there and think on your husband and caring about something other than your career.

I found myself dreaming about a lover.

Wait for chapter two.