Writer's Block - Emma needs help visualizing a scene for her book.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The sound of an approaching car kicked up the terror burning in my chest. I yelped and fell to the ground, wrapping my arms around my body and trying to be as small as possible. The car, a red sedan, went by me and passed. I tried to relax, to breathe, but my body was too tense to allow it.
It was fine, I told myself. Most people kept their eyes on the road, not looking to the sides at all the houses. Still, just the possibility of some stranger seeing me naked was terrifying.
Why? You had no qualms about David seeing you naked.
That’s different, I told myself, my eyes filling with tears.
Or was it? Did I secretly crave that sensation, of someone seeing me at my vulnerable, exploring my naked body like David had? Being controlled?
Another car approached. It moved down the street like the other one did, but I could’ve sworn it slowed down, just slightly, before passing. I swallowed. Had the driver seen me? What did they think? Did they think that I was being coerced outside naked? Did they think I was enjoying this?
My legs were starting to fall asleep. I stood up and walked back-and-forth on the patio. The sensation of bare feet on the concrete and the cold wind on my crotch felt odd.
Another car came down the street, faster than the other two. I didn’t have time to retreat to my fetal position. Instead, my eyes saw two people in the car, one in the passenger seat. The occupant of the seat looked bored, staring out the window. His eyes widened at the sight of me, and I knew that he could see everything. I groaned and retreated to my position. My cheeks turned red, and my crotch, still sensitive from my orgasm a little bit ago, burned.
The car passed, but the damage had been done. I could hear more cars coming. I turned around and pounded on the door.
David opened the door immediately. He must have been waiting, I realized, expecting me to cave. His eyes were full of concern, and from the way he looked at me, he fully expected me to finally say the safe words and end the experience. He was still holding the knife.
Except, I didn’t. I had every intention of saying them when I started knocking, but now that I saw him, something powerful came over me. A desire—no, a need—to be completely controlled by him.
Completely dominated by him.
It took him a second to regain his composure when he realized I wasn’t going to say the safe words.
“You’re marooning isn’t over,” he growled. His eyes ran up and down my body, and I blushed.
“Please, let me back in,” I begged.
“Those aren’t the terms,” he said. “It’s barely been ten minutes.”
“Please. I’ll do anything. Just get me out of here!”
David narrowed his eyes. “What will you give me?”
“What?”
“You said you’ll do anything. Make me an offer.”
Distantly, I wondered if the safe words would even have any power at this point, that David would even honor them.
“I’ll...I’ll be your slave.”
For a moment, he looked surprised at my offer. “For how long?”
For how long? He wanted to make this thing last longer than one evening? How had this experience gotten so out of control? “For the weekend,” I said. “I’ll come over this weekend and you can do whatever you want to me for two days.”
“Hmm...2 months.”
“What? No way! 4 days.” My words made my throat dry. Holy crap, I was actually going to let him enslave me. Every time I bargained, the amount of time he owned me would grow and grow.
“A month and a half.”
“A week.”
“14 days.”
I opened my mouth to bargain again, but his eyes made me whimper. He wasn’t going to budge. I could hear another car coming, and I realized my ability to negotiate my sentence was dwindling quickly.
“F-fine, but only if I stay inside.”
“I’ll pick the time and location, wench.” He grabbed me by the hair and pulled me inside.
He shut the door and grabbed me by my hair again, pulling me up to my feet. I whimpered at the pain. He wrapped his arms around me, one around my neck and the other holding the knife to my cheek. “You are my slave, and so there are some rules. You will not question my orders. You will do everything I ask without complaint. You will not cover yourself, ever. Do you understand?”
I nodded, the sensation of the knife on my neck terrifying. The tears that had started outside were coming in full force, heavy, fat droplets running down my face. “Y-yes.”
“Finally, this is your sentence, and it is non-negotiable. You will not beg or bargain for release.”
The real meaning of his words was clear: The safe words were no longer safe. I had no more power to save myself.
His hand released my neck and twirled itself through my hair. I shuddered as the knife dragged down my cheek and towards my breast. Much like my pussy, the feeling of the sharp edge of the knife on my nipples was terrifyingly stimulating. He alternated between each breast, just dragging it across my hard and erect nipples. I moaned, nearly collapsing right there.
He half-carried me, half-pulled me up the stairs back to my room. He threw me back on my bed, spread out my limbs but didn’t tie me up. I realized he expected me to simply hold myself down as he did whatever he wanted to do to me. I resisted the urge to roll up into a ball to cover myself. I could still feel my wet sheets from where I had orgasmed before.
“T-this is day one, right? Of my sentence?”
He glared at me. “What did I say about negotiating?”
I blushed and whimpered demurely.
“No, your sentence doesn’t start until tomorrow. The rest of today is just a payment of good faith.”
The thought of two whole weeks as a slave was daunting. If I could do anything to shorten it, I would. “P-please...”
He rolled his eyes, annoyed. “You need to be quiet. Perhaps one of your panties will serve as a suitable gag.” He pulled my drawers up at random, rummaging through.
“Wait--”
“Emma...what’s this?” I blushed furiously at the sight of my secret vibrator in his hand. He walked to me, towering over me like a giant. I whimpered. “David...”
“Quiet!’” He shoved the vibrator into my pussy, and my slick lips gave absolutely no resistance. I screamed, my limbs flailing. The fact that I wasn’t tied down made it even harder, as I had to resist every urge to jump out of my bed and run, which would only make my punishment worse. The sensations of the vibrations running through my body were mind-shattering, and I groaned as another orgasm bubbled up to the surface but didn’t crack. Holy crap, I needed release.
David pulled the vibrator out, slick with sweat and my insides, and threw it aside.
“Wait...,” I said, my voice hoarse.
“No negotiating.”
“Please...finish me. With the vibrator. I need...”
He grinned. “What will you give me?”
I swallowed. He was going to make me do this again? “A-another week,” I said.
“Not good enough,” he said, turning away.
My crotch wouldn’t let him leave. “Fine! A month!”
He paused but didn’t come closer.
“Two months!” I shouted.
He grinned. “Good. You’re being a good slave, so I’ll make it a month and a half.”
I blushed, deeply grateful for the reduced sentence. However, the realization that David had the power to reduce my “sentence” highlighted his complete control over me. It also made me want me want to please him in any way I could, knowing he could bestow rewards or take away punishments. Those two thoughts were enough for me to know that I was completely his slave, to be completely owned by him.
He pushed me back onto the bed and replaced the vibrator. I squealed as the sensations returned. He pushed down, hard, the vibrations increasing in intensity. I had never orgasmed so much in such a short amount of time in my life, but my stimulated body offered no shortage of bodily fluids to release. The dam burst, and cum squirted out of me. Not as much as the first time, but still a substantial amount. I collapsed onto the new pool of cum, completely spent.
“My slaves should always be clean,” he said. “Get up.”
I moaned softly as I rolled off the bed, my weak legs barely enough to keep me upright. I followed him across the hall to the master bathroom. What was he going to do to me there? He brought me to the threshold of the shower, one of the glass see-through showers.
“Bathe,” he said.
There was a slight barrier to the shower, just a couple of inches, but it might as well been mountains. I was afraid that if I lifted my legs and parted my pussy at all, I was going to collapse.
David, sensing my problem, grabbed my legs near my pelvis, pulling them up and over. I groaned at the sensation, and then my bare feet were touching the rough surface of the shower floor. I felt hot water come over me and purred at the sensation.
Captain grabbed a chair from the master bedroom and brought it into the bathroom and took a seat, just watching as I bathed. Again, I resisted the urge to cover myself. Showers were a safe place, a place one could be alone. The idea of someone watching me perform such an intimate activity felt like such a violation.
I stood there for a moment, my face towards the showerhead so David could see my butt, just letting the hot water clean me of the leftover cum in my pussy and the sweat that had accumulated over the last hour. Crap, had this whole thing only been an hour? It felt like an eternity since I asked David to strip me. David was gone, though, now. No one left to protect me. Only this pirate watching me wash myself.
I heard Captain shuffle behind, and the sound of a zipper, and then the soft thud of clothes falling to the floor.
I squeaked as Captain came up behind me, wrapping his arms around me and squeezing my tits. I felt his cock press against my leg. He reached up to grab the shampoo, slathering it on his hands and threading his fingers through my hair. I purred at the sensation of his fingers on my scalp, stroking my head as the smell of the scented shampoo filled my nose.
He grabbed the body wash next. Peach Blossom. His soapy hands ran up and down my body, lathering my skin. His wet hands explored my stomach, back, neck. He grabbed both of my tits and squeezed, making sure to get a generous amount of soap in my cleavage and nipples. He took extra care to explore my privates, probing his scented fingers into my pussy. Already over-stimulated, I gasped, unable to breathe. As he proceeded, my hands just hung there, unable to resist.
His fingers entered my crack, pulling and kneading my cheeks. I moaned intensely, the stimulation maddening. He chuckled and gave my butt a few swats. He turned the water off, but didn’t leave, instead just standing there behind me, breathing on my neck. “Turn around. On your knees and hands on your head.”
I could only nod as I turned and knelt on the ground. My hands felt heavy as I forced them onto my head. He stood there, naked like me, but with a certain aura of control. There was no question of who had the power here.
His cock was stuff. He grabbed my hair and shoved me into him. He held me there for a few seconds as my tongue explored his shaft, almost involuntarily.
He pulled me out. I took a deep breath, but before I could get any air in my lungs he pulled me back in.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
His pace quickened, and I found myself short on breath, gasping every time he let me come up for air.
He groaned as he climaxed, and I felt hot cum slither down my throat, and I nearly gagged.
He stumbled out of the shower, his legs looking as weak as I felt.
“One moment.” He said.
“No...” I mumbled, but he was already gone. I groaned, knowing that whatever he had planned would be even worse than before, if that was possible. Every part of my body was on fire. I had been stripped, clothes cut off, fingered, thrown outside, and then fondled in my parents’ shower. All while I agreed to be my friend’s slave for nearly two months. It felt like a fever dream. There was no way this was actually happening.
He returned quickly, this time holding the rope and hunting knife. The two things that had been the source of my torment throughout the whole experience.
He carried me to the master bed and started to tie me up. But instead of bounding me in the spread-eagle position, he started to curl my limbs in the hogtie position, jutting out my chest and pelvis. I groaned as my shoulder tightened as he bound my arms behind me. He pushed me onto my side so my breasts and pussy were completely exposed to him.
He grabbed a tuft of pubic hair and started to cut. I squealed at the sensation of a knife instead of a razor cutting off my hair. I felt pressure, and I tensed my crotch to pull back from the knife, but I couldn’t move in my hogtied position.
Apparently satisfied with my shave, he dragged the edge of the knife against my now-bare pussy. Despite the sensation of the knife dragging across my pussy being familiar from earlier and my body being so tired from abuse, it still made me scream. He ignored my body’s pleas and continued to let the sharp edge drag down towards the opening in my vagina. He was going to stick the knife in!
He wouldn’t, would he? Honestly, I didn’t know. But the thought of David or whoever inserting something sharp into me drove me crazy.
It was my last chance to say anything. I didn’t even know if saying the safe words would do anything, but it was my only defense.
He continued to drag the knife painfully slow across my crotch. I groaned.
I needed to say the words. Now.
The knife was at the tip of my folds. A mere centimeter and it would enter me. Complete and utter terror filled me.
“Wait! Wait! Please! I’ll do anything!”
He paused.
The words wouldn’t come. Instead, there was only one thing I could think of to offer. “I-I’ll be your slave forever!” What was I saying? What was I doing? A slave forever? It didn’t stop the words from spilling out of mouth, though. “Whatever you want, I'll do it. Whenever you want! Just please don’t...”
David pulled back, but kept the knife in his hand. “You realize what you’re offering?”
Tears were coming freely, and my whole body ached. My mind, on the other hand, was going crazy. Was I really going to completely surrender myself to this? To repeat this evening day after day? All I could think about were those moments, letting David continue my torment after being stripped naked, being carried outside. The desire to be completely controlled. “Y-yes. Please.”
He nodded. “I accept. A lifetime of servitude to me. Your body is mine.” He stroked the side of my stomach tenderly. “And a beautiful body it is, Emma.”
I groaned and collapsed on the bed. David had known what he was doing. Everything he had done to this point was to get me to this moment, to completely surrender
The next thing I remember is waking up in my own bed. David was gone.
A week passed. David and I went back to our lives, back to being friends, like nothing happened. My parents returned from their trip, oblivious to what had occurred, and my life returned to what it was. I began to wonder if what had happened had actually happened, or if it had all been a dream.
My phone
*dinged*, and my heart nearly leapt out of my chest.
It was David.
My place. 4 o’clock.
I swallowed, my fingers trembling as I set my phone down after I responded that I would be there at the time requested. I thought about not showing up, but I knew that I would never be able to stop myself. I belonged to him.
Still, I had a few hours before I needed to head over. I pulled open my laptop, created a new document, and started to write.
I groaned and pushed my chair away from the computer. My eyes burned from staring at the screen for so long, and my legs were cramping up.
David looked up from his homework. “What’s up?”
