punishment.”
He nodded. “Rule four: you will only speak when spoken to. You will never protest or say no to me. If you do, you can expect immediate and severe punishment.” Again he pointed at her.
“I will only speak when spoken to,” she began. “I will never say—”
“You got it wrong,” he interjected. “You will never protest or say no to me. Go on, say it and finish the rest.”
“I will never protest or say no to you. I—I won’t…” her lower lip began to tremble and tears spilled down her cheeks. “I can’t remember. Eric, please. I can’t do this. I’m so hungry I feel sick. You’ve kept me tied up and terrorized for hours. I’m so frightened. Please stop this. I’m begging you.” She began to cry in earnest, dropping her head into her hands.
Eric hardened his resolve. He wouldn’t let a woman’s tears get the better of him. But it was late and he felt suddenly drained, as the adrenaline ebbed away. There was time, plenty of time, to train her properly. He’d type up the rules for her in the morning and make her memorize them. Meanwhile, he said, “Okay, enough for tonight. You may crawl to the sleep cage.”
“Aren’t you going to let me eat? I need food and water,” she wailed.
He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “You should have thought of that when you peed all over my carpet. Remember, I promised you a punishment for that. This is your punishment. You won’t starve to death in one night.” He pointed toward the sleep cage. “Now crawl on all fours like a good little slave to your bed and go to sleep. If you behave, I might let you have some food in the morning. It’s up to you, J.”
Sniffling, she wiped her face with the back of her hand. Eric’s cock still ached and he briefly considered forcing her to suck him off before he left her, but decided she had been through enough for one day.
They had time—all the time in the world.
~*~
She had never believed she would fall asleep, locked inside that claustrophobic cage, her stomach howling, her mouth dry as sand, her pussy aching from the rape, her mind in turmoil over her terrifying predicament. She couldn’t reconcile the Eric she thought she knew, the reasonably pleasant, if sometimes arrogant boss she’d worked with for the past two years.
In retrospect, she guessed it had been kind of stupid to divert the new memberships to a second account, but she’d been so furious at his blackmail that she couldn’t think straight. At the office it had been next to impossible to resume the meek, bland persona she’d perfected over her time there. She was so filled with impotent rage and fury she could barely do her job. She’d nearly confronted Eric in front of the guys, but hadn't quite had the nerve. His threat about the police and the IRS had stung, and she hadn't been willing to take the chance that he wasn’t bluffing.
Still, she never would have dreamed that Eric Chapman would have dared imprison her like this. The rape itself was bad enough, but she could understand on some level an isolated act of passion or, more accurately, of rage. If she had a cock and a hundred pounds on the bastard, as he did on her, maybe she would have been the one holding him down while he squealed like a pig.
Was he really going to keep her down here? He seemed to be intent on turning her into some kind of zombie sex slave. Where the hell was that coming from? Calling her by her first initial, like that stupid book, Story of O —he thought he was so clever, but he was just obvious and stupid. All that talk of slave girls and rules—did he really think that stuff he watched on the Internet porn sites was real ? Was he really that clueless?
And yet, this was real, terrifyingly real. The bars of this cage were real, and the fact that she was being held against her will, and not a soul in the world other than Eric knew she was in this dungeon was real too. If he chose to, he could let her starve to death. He
He nodded. “Rule four: you will only speak when spoken to. You will never protest or say no to me. If you do, you can expect immediate and severe punishment.” Again he pointed at her.
“I will only speak when spoken to,” she began. “I will never say—”
“You got it wrong,” he interjected. “You will never protest or say no to me. Go on, say it and finish the rest.”
“I will never protest or say no to you. I—I won’t…” her lower lip began to tremble and tears spilled down her cheeks. “I can’t remember. Eric, please. I can’t do this. I’m so hungry I feel sick. You’ve kept me tied up and terrorized for hours. I’m so frightened. Please stop this. I’m begging you.” She began to cry in earnest, dropping her head into her hands.
Eric hardened his resolve. He wouldn’t let a woman’s tears get the better of him. But it was late and he felt suddenly drained, as the adrenaline ebbed away. There was time, plenty of time, to train her properly. He’d type up the rules for her in the morning and make her memorize them. Meanwhile, he said, “Okay, enough for tonight. You may crawl to the sleep cage.”
“Aren’t you going to let me eat? I need food and water,” she wailed.
He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “You should have thought of that when you peed all over my carpet. Remember, I promised you a punishment for that. This is your punishment. You won’t starve to death in one night.” He pointed toward the sleep cage. “Now crawl on all fours like a good little slave to your bed and go to sleep. If you behave, I might let you have some food in the morning. It’s up to you, J.”
Sniffling, she wiped her face with the back of her hand. Eric’s cock still ached and he briefly considered forcing her to suck him off before he left her, but decided she had been through enough for one day.
They had time—all the time in the world.
~*~
She had never believed she would fall asleep, locked inside that claustrophobic cage, her stomach howling, her mouth dry as sand, her pussy aching from the rape, her mind in turmoil over her terrifying predicament. She couldn’t reconcile the Eric she thought she knew, the reasonably pleasant, if sometimes arrogant boss she’d worked with for the past two years.
In retrospect, she guessed it had been kind of stupid to divert the new memberships to a second account, but she’d been so furious at his blackmail that she couldn’t think straight. At the office it had been next to impossible to resume the meek, bland persona she’d perfected over her time there. She was so filled with impotent rage and fury she could barely do her job. She’d nearly confronted Eric in front of the guys, but hadn't quite had the nerve. His threat about the police and the IRS had stung, and she hadn't been willing to take the chance that he wasn’t bluffing.
Still, she never would have dreamed that Eric Chapman would have dared imprison her like this. The rape itself was bad enough, but she could understand on some level an isolated act of passion or, more accurately, of rage. If she had a cock and a hundred pounds on the bastard, as he did on her, maybe she would have been the one holding him down while he squealed like a pig.
Was he really going to keep her down here? He seemed to be intent on turning her into some kind of zombie sex slave. Where the hell was that coming from? Calling her by her first initial, like that stupid book, Story of O —he thought he was so clever, but he was just obvious and stupid. All that talk of slave girls and rules—did he really think that stuff he watched on the Internet porn sites was real ? Was he really that clueless?
And yet, this was real, terrifyingly real. The bars of this cage were real, and the fact that she was being held against her will, and not a soul in the world other than Eric knew she was in this dungeon was real too. If he chose to, he could let her starve to death. He
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