Trapped and Tamed Read online

  The “much greater” compensation under Jones was intriguing. So was the secret of his plan and the idea of a great purpose. It was hard to believe any of that but she was also curious to see his residence.

  “Well, since you’re paying for dinner I guess our little date -- ha ha -- can end with a drinkless nightcap at your place. ”

  Nothing about the nightcap at Dr. Wayne Jones’ place had gone as Dr. Lynne Stanford expected.

  First of all, his home. It was out in the country, a broad two-storey massive structure formed primarily out of grey granite blocks that were probably originally intended for use in the making of a pyramid. It was sort of creepy.

  Secondly, Jones had somehow become charming just due to his suave verbal maneuvering and air of mystery and supreme confidence. She started to feel… swept up.

  Thirdly, she’d drunk more wine after all. Jones going on about manners and her being a guest and bad luck not to follow tradition and all that. Two more tall glasses of wine and it was something fancy and old. And quite tasty.

  Fourthly, he still hadn’t gotten to the point of revealing this grand plan of his and she was still at his place an hour after she thought she’d be back home in bed.

  And fifth… she was nearly naked, arms chained wide, bare breasts roughened by contact with the particular granite block she was up against, and she was about to receive her first whipping.

  She heard Jones dragging the leather strand of the whip on the flagstone floor, snaking it back and forth. Was he trying to get a feel for its weight?Was he attempting to notch up her fear?Was he just trying to get the leather dirty before striking her bare skin with it?

  How the Hell had she ended up in this hellish circumstance?

  She remembered she asked about his doctoral qualifications hoping to get a read on what his plans were for the clinic. After all, if he was a Podiatrist they’d probably all be scraping corns and treating jungle rot. He’d set his left hand on her right thigh and rubbed it boldly back and forth like someone already comfortably familiar with her body. He’d done it as if he were comforting her. It hadn’t seemed sexual at all even when his fingers dipped to press her dress into the crux of her crotch. It had seemed purely clinical.

  Then he told her his expertise was in pain therapy.

  She’d never heard of that but assumed it was a branch of anesthesiology. The digits examining the contours of her pussy mound were having the opposite effect on her actually making her more and more sensitized. So much so she closed her eyes not really wanting to see his face in combination with the sensations from those invasive fingers.

  His voice was rhythmic and hypnotic as he explained pain therapy. The furrows on her pretty brow rose from scrunched down furrows of concentration on the sparks of delight his fingers rubbed into being, to high furrows of surprise when he told her with pain therapy he did not relieve pain but actually purposely caused it.

  It was hard to get her mind wrapped around that idea as his right hand came up and wrapped possessively around her right breast which was the one closest to him. He grasped the orange-sized breast firmly and twisted it slightly in its entirety as he worked his hand from base to top over and over like he was shaping wet clay on a spinning wheel.

  What kind of patients would pay to have pain inflicted on them and to what purpose?She mumbled something along those lines to Jones. He chuckled and said the services of the clinic would not actually change, just the clientele. She didn’t understand that just like she didn’t understand why she was allowing him to take such liberties with her body.

  His left hand went under her dress and pushed at her lace panties while the fingers of his right hand captured her nipple and tugged it back and forth like it was on a leash. Damn, if he was as good at making pain as he was at producing pleasure he must be pretty good at his pain therapy profession.

  He told her she needed to understand in order to help him, to join him, to please him, to obey him, to serve him.

  It didn’t sound right and she mumbled pleasurable doubts. She was leaned back and she spread her legs so his struggling fingers would have an easier time examining her. Wow, if this fingers examination took too much longer she might actually come on them. That would be embarrassing!

  Jones explained in a rational common sense tone that just like members of law enforcement were sometimes required to purposely allow Mace to be sprayed in their faces and eyes in order to responsibly understand the impact of their possible future actions, Lynne, herself, should experience some levels of pain in order to at least understand the therapy.

  Internal cynicism tried to take form and voice itself but was dispelled by a persuasively vicious tweak to her hardened ultra-sensitive right nipple. That pain in combination with the index finger crooked up into her vaginal sheath were a powerful mix. Maybe some strategic pain could be therapeutic!

  Did she agree to take off her clothes or did she just follow his orders?It wasn’t clear now. She blushed remembering she tried to remove those lacy panties, her final article of clothing, but he insisted she keep them on. Perhaps she’d been moving too fast for him!

  He’d led her down the basement steps and up against this cold granite block. She remembered she was surprised when he manacled each wrist out wide above her head but it had still made perfect sense at the time.

  Once she was helpless, that’s when he notified her he was going to whip her. It was then that things started making a lot less sense to her and now, here she was, incredibly, about to be whipped!

  Whip her?He had to be joking!Clearly she was in for a good thorough fuck however unwise that might be but an actual whipping made no sense so it just could not happen. He didn’t need to whip her. He didn’t need to whip her into obedience. She was helpless and he could have his way. For some reason she wasn’t even protesting. What man would whip her when he could go ahead and fuck her?

  Dr. Wayne Jones.

  He would whip her and then he would still fuck her. Instead of choosing, he would get both options.

  This Dr. Jones seemed far too clever for her own good.

  She thought he never could have expected to get this lucky with a woman so young, smart, and beautiful and he must be exhilarated with the triumph, like a Hyena somehow pulling off taking down a fast, healthy Gazelle.

  However, he sounded quite casual, “Normally, to the previously uninitiated masochist, I would use a light short whip. In this case, though, you’ve had quite a few glasses of wine. From your dossier I imagine they haven’t dulled your nerve endings as much as some would think. Still, I definitely want you to get the full experience. Therefore I have upgraded the quality of the whip to a real heavy striker. I’ll keep it up until you’re in a good blubbery sobbing state. ”

  “What?!No, I thought… well, I didn’t think at all but I don’t want pain. I don’t need any pain experience. Let me go!”

  Lynne felt relief she’d finally spoken up and derailed this train to Hell. She didn’t know how or why she’d gone this far down the tracks but the important thing was not arriving at the station Conductor Wayne Jones intended to drop her off at. “Blubbery sobbing state” indeed!What a silly notion anyway. She was no crier and, if she’d had to, she was tough enough to take some pain without wimping out.

  She got impatient. Several seconds had passed, plenty of time to set down the whip, and he should be taking off the manacles by now. Or maybe fucking her. It was impossible to see him because of her upright bound state facing the granite and the fact he’d moved directly behind her but about ten feet away.

  “It’s not what you want, it’s what you need. Besides, it’s not about what you want, it’s what I want. ”

  Lynne tried to organize a comeback to his alarmingly confident and patronizing statement.

  He didn’t give her enough time. Despite all the previous indicators the strike of the whip
was still a surprise. Surprising that he really would whip her. Surprising that she would ever in her life be whipped. Most of all, surprising how incredibly painful it was.

  “Ahhhhhh!Oh, shit!”

  “Don’t be profane. So unseemly, you fucking cunt bitch. ”Jones punctuated his words with a whip strike across her shoulder blades and spine that was louder than a gunshot.

  “Ahhhhhhh!Ahhhhhhhhhhh!”

  Jones quirked a one-sided smile not sure if she was just purely reacting to the pain and was too filled with agony to form words, profane or otherwise, or if she’d actually had the focus to adjust her behavior to suit his request.

  He began working her over like a mad scientist trying different actions to gauge the reactions. He whipped her back and watched her. He whipped her shoulders and the back of her arms and watched her. He whipped horizontally, vertically, and diagonally at different times on different areas. He used the whip to slash at her ass cheeks, mostly not covered because her struggles and muscle-tensing caused the panties to slide and bunch into her ass crack, and basked in the sight of her contortions.

  “Aaarrrgh!Nooooo!”

  He lashed up and down the rear of her left thigh, then the right, the severity of the whip strikes causing her well-toned muscles to jiggle and ripple.

  “Aaaah!Aaaah!Oh, aaaargh!”

  When she twisted about in mindless pain, because her arms were bound above her, he saw her sides were stretched taut and they would swing vulnerably towards him with each twist. Hmm, nice target. A bit of a challenge but he was an expert marksman with the whip. After all, practice makes perfect. He nailed her right side stroking the whip in a long lash from the tender side of her breast all the way down to her hip bone.

  It was so painful she could only make a choking sound, could not even scream. In instinctual self-defense she spun her wounded right side up against the cool granite block in order to protect it from further blows.

  Ideal. The move had rotated her left side towards him and she even held it relatively still as if she was trying to aid and abet his plan to even out her pain coverage. That wasn’t the case but the effect was the same.

  The whip slash down her left side began at her extremely tender arm pit and continued to her side above her hip. She found her voice and issued two screams and then four loud sounds that could generally be filed as yells. After that she simmered down though he knew the pain was still boiling inside her. He heard new sounds now and Jones recognized those sweet sounds. An adult and intelligent woman wailing mindlessly.

  He traced the unwhipped areas of her skin on her upper and lower back with his fingertips. She flinched at first, then held still. One would think delicate caresses would go unnoticed amidst all that percolating pain but they definitely got her attention.

  “Let it all out. ”

  As if she’d been waiting for permission or he had powers of sorcery, her tearful crying transformed into loud, shaky, blubbery sobs.

  Jones nodded to himself, satisfied but not at all surprised. Goal achieved.

  He lifted his hand off her hot skin to push her hair to one side so he could study her crying face. Her eyes were scrunched tight but tears flowed from them surprisingly freely despite the constriction. He waited for her blubbering to reduce to crying and then ratchet further down to pitiful sniffles.

  Time to move to the next stage.

  “Good, good. You’ve taken your whipping well, Lynne. Your pain therapy is successful. Would you like your reward?”

  She stopped crying, opened her eyes with a series of blinks as if she was waking up. He saw her pain no longer ruled her. Well, it did, but that one sensation no longer blinded her to emotions not relevant to it. She was curious.

  “Your reward is that I am willing to fuck you if you ask me nicely. ”

  Her encounter with anguish allowed her to feel one emotion at a time currently. The curiosity was satisfied and gone, there was no room for outrage, so all she felt was disbelief.

  “I couldn’t. Not after… that. ”

  “Yes, you can, more so after that than before. Your body wants it. Your mind just needs to catch up to your body. ”

  He let her hair fall back on her cheek and moved that hand down to her rear, firmly handling and stretching each ass cheek. She groaned form the mixed sensations of intimate contact and resurrected pain in the whip welts his fingers contacted. He ran his fingertips down the back of her right thigh and then up the back of her left thigh gently before grabbing the waistband of her panties and jerking them roughly down to her knees.

  He rudely shoved three fingers gathered in a triangle up her pussy. They went in surprisingly easily. At least, surprising to her, not to him. He jammed the finger pyramid up and down harshly as if he was trying to bruise her sex. Lynne gasped and moaned. Briefly she tried to stand up off the fingers but that was no good. The fingers felt shockingly wonderful. Thoughtless, she spread her legs and jammed her pussy down to meet his finger thrusts, making the colliding contact all the harsher. But even better as well. She felt all mixed up.

  She breathed harder and harder and began to anticipate achieving a pinnacle.

  He jerked his fingers free of her trapped body.

  She felt cheated.

  His fingers were slick with pussy juice. Her dew was gathered wherever his fingers joined. He moved the finger pyramid up to her face, hesitated to let her see and smell her immediate fate, then spread them and wiped them back and forth, up and down, across cheeks, nose, and mouth.

  “See?Proof your body wants to be fucked. Let me know when your mind agrees. Until then, let’s get some soothing lotion on those trophy marks of pain therapy. ”

  “Oh, can’t you just… let me go?”Lynne was disturbed that she’d almost said ‘just fuck me’ before catching herself in time.

  “No, no, that would be malpractice. Pain, then pleasure. That is the therapy. Pain, then pleasure, then pain-pleasure, then eventually, miracle of miracles, pleasure is heightened pleasure and pain is also pleasure. That is only the beginning good Dr. Stanford. There are many bad things that can be made into useful pleasures through my processes. To leave you only pain now, with no pleasure, would be unconscionable. Once the treatment has begun it must be pursued to its illogical but successful conclusion. ”

  “Ohh, oh no. ”

  Lynne was lost in dismayed contemplation of what had transpired so far and her total lack of options to adjust the course of her immediate future. She wouldn’t beg him… to let her go or to screw her. It would only turn him on. She wouldn’t give him… or herself… that satisfaction.

  She heard a door open behind her but didn’t look around. Dr. Jones must be retrieving that ‘soothing lotion’ from a cabinet. It was probably some supposed aphrodisiac gel he purchased from a sex shop. Lynne had seen the like before and remembered she’d been a little curious.

  She felt warm breath on the back of her thighs. The sensation accentuated her vulnerable position and abused state and all of it caused her arousal to spiral unexpectedly high. Gentle palms and fingers rubbing a warm slick lotion onto her thighs pushed her heat higher. She was shocked by her profound need and that the cruel Dr. Jones could be so gentle.

  The hands moved in tandem soft but deep up and down her thighs, the backs of them and both sides, then spread the lotion all over her still-stinging ass cheeks. The contact felt so good!Soon it was frustrating. It was nice to have the pain so soothed but her pussy had a far greater need than the simple need to be free of pain.

  She tried spreading her legs to give him a hint but that didn’t work. She pushed her mound back a few times when his fingers or hot breath seemed near but that didn’t work.

  Suddenly Jones’ mouth was close to her ear but the hands were still vigorously rolling her ass cheeks, “We both know what you want. Why torture yourself?That’s my job anyway. You
know what you have to do. Just go ahead and beg. ”

  He’d already dragged her past various mental lines in the sand tonight but this would be yet one more. How many lines in the sand, how many markers in the desert, could she be pushed and pulled to and past until she’d have no hope of finding her way out of the desolation?

  She didn’t know and she no longer cared.

  “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Please!”

  “Dr. Lynne Stanford, you’re sounding much more agreeable. I have to be sure, you understand, you’ll agree to anything. You will, right?”

  “Yes. Anything!Please, please, please, just fuck me. ”

  “Would you, for instance, agree to have your pussy licked and your ass fucked?”

  Lynne wondered for a wild moment which he would do first before she felt a lotioned finger slide up into her anus. She realized he’d probably start there. Jones seemed quite agile to keep his mouth to her ear while perfectly targeting her little hole.

  “Would agree to that, that and anything else I want?”

  Well… beggars couldn’t be choosers, could they?

  “Yes!”

  “Yes, what?Since you are a slave to your needs and I the Master of them do be sure to call me Master from now on. ”

  Master?

  “Yes, yes, yes, I agree -- I beg my Master -- for my ass to be fucked and my pussy licked. Please, Master!”

  “Immediately. ”

  The finger popped out of her butt and a moment later his cock slid home with matching grunts from both of them.

  Impossibly, she felt her pussy being sucked and licked.

  She’d never been ass-fucked before. Did a cock up her ass cause those slippery slithery tonguing sensations on a girl’s pussy?It seemed so real….