I used to be a soldier. When the rules of engagement got to favoring the enemy over our people I quit. With not much skill beyond killing, I became a mercenary. I made quite a bit of money at that until I became too disgusted with the people who could afford to hire me and quit again. The money I saved (and some that I stole) has been invested and is growing nicely. I don't use any of it to live on. Now I am reclusive by choice and a horse rancher living on my own small spread in northern Arizona.
I don't actually breed horses. That requires too much investment. I attend the BLM (Bureau of Land Management) auctions when they cull the wild horse herds that roam on government land. Most of the animals go straight to the dog food factory but there always four or five likely animals and I am about the only one willing to offer a good price for them. I bring them to my ranch and get them broken to the saddle and then train them to be cow ponies.
I know most of the cattle ranching is done from jeep and helicopter these days but there is always some terrain where the work has to be done from the back of a horse. My reputation for sound, well cared for and well trained horses is pretty good so I never have any trouble selling the animals I train. I don't make much money but it lets me live away from people and keeps me in food. My investments continue to grow for the day when I decide that the horses are getting too tough for me. All in all it is a good life.
That's why I wasn't very happy when I got a telephone call from Phil Robinson. Phil and I had served together many years ago. We had grown together but Phil had remained in the service when I left. I hadn't heard from Phil in years and wasn't too happy when he told me his problem. Still, it is hard to blow off a guy you had been in combat with and I reluctantly agreed to fly to the San Fran and meet with him.
Phil had become an entrepreneur and ran an electronics firm. His problem was an industrial espionage one. As he explained it he had found that a secretarial worker was copying research documents. He didn't want to confront her for several reasons. First, it was a hard crime to prosecute, especially if you didn't want the confidential research documents becoming part of the public court records. More importantly he wanted to find out which of his competitors, and who at that company, had put her up to this. The woman was just a pawn and if he confronted her she would probably deny everything and leave town and he would be left looking around for the next attempt. No, what Phil wanted was for me to kidnap the woman, interrogate her, learn who was behind the espionage and then put a stop to it.
I looked at him as though he had two heads. I pointed out that kidnapping was a federal offense. He countered that we had done much worse in the old days. I reminded him that that was in other countries and that we had the force of the government behind us. He pointed out that mercenaries had done similar and far worse. I denied having ever been a mercenary (which got me a bland look that said, ‘I won't argue with you but we both know better') and pointed out that even if I had been I was now retired from all that cloak and dagger business and was now a small rancher.
Phil had two arguments. He apparently had some government connections because he knew about some things that I had participated in that I had thought were totally secret. His other argument was that I had always been willing to take risks for the good guys when there was a clear right and wrong. In this case he needed help and was being wronged. I was weakening. Ranching was fun but it was a pretty quiet life. Finally I told him that I wouldn't do it unless he, as the saying goes, put some skin on the table. He would personally have to participate in the kidnapping and the transportation across state lines. He didn't like the idea but he realized that it was a fair request and in the end he agreed.
In the end it went ridiculously easy. I rented a Lincoln Town car with a big trunk and Phil purchased a stun gun. He had installed security cameras over the copier and had noted that the woman generally stayed late Friday evenings to ‘catch up' on her work. It appeared that this was when the copying generally happened. The next Friday, Phil followed the secretary into the parking lot and used the stun gun. I drove up, popped the trunk in the Lincoln and together we hoisted her in.
It only took a few seconds to secure her wrists and ankles. I used wire ties. They are plastic strips with a hole at one end and a point at the other. The idea is to pull bundles of wire together into a neat cable. The ties are designed so that the pointed end goes into the hole and while it can be tightened down, it won't loosen up. The only way to open them is to cut them and the plastic is strong enough that I have never seen anyone break out of them. They are a little short for securing two wrists (or two ankles) but just fine for a single wrist. I tightened one over her right wrist and then slid the second through that loop and then around her other wrist. Then I did her ankles with another two ties. Just for good measure I pushed a gag into her mouth though I doubted that any sounds would be audible over traffic noises. Then I wrapped a belt around her thighs and around her back pulling her legs against her chest and ran a rope between the plastic hand cuffs and the plastic ankle cuffs pulling her into a tight ball. Just to keep her off balance I pulled a sack over her head. This would serve to disorient her even further.
We slammed the trunk shut and I followed Phil to the airport where he parked his car so it would be available for his return. With two of us driving we stopped only for food and gasoline until we reached my ranch. When we got there I backed the car into the horse barn.
The horse barn had heavy stalls with each stall having three wooden floor to ceiling sides and a forth side of wood about four feet high with strong metal bars running up to the ceiling. They had been built to hold randy horses when we didn't want them to mate and they were ideal as holding cells. Each stall had a number of attachment points and beneath the straw was a grilled sluiceway or channel to simplify mucking out the stall.
We opened the trunk and took the woman into an empty stall. I looped a chain around her neck and padlocked it. The other end was locked to an attachment point at the rear of the stall so that even if free she would be unable to reach the door. I removed her hand and wrist cuffs, the belt holding her folded over and pulled off the sack and the gag. She was stiff, hungry and dehydrated but although she couldn't move very much she managed to glare at me. I brought in a dog dish with a can of dog food and a second one with water. I pointed to an empty bucket in the corner and said “Toilet. “ Indicating the two dog dishes I said “Food and Water.” Then I turned to leave, locking the stall door behind me.
Phil then took off in the Lincoln for Phoenix where he would turn in the car and fly back to the coast. He would fly coach on Southwest where last minute one-way fares weren't out of the ordinary. I went into the house to prepare my supper and get some sleep.
After breakfast I went into the barn and unlocked the stall. I picked up the toilet bucket and went to empty it telling the woman, “Strip!”
She asked, “What?”
I responded, “Take off your clothes.”
She glared at me and finally said, “Up yours.”
I turned away with the bucket but had to smile at her spirit. I had gotten my first look at the woman in the light and, while she was obviously not at her best after the treatment she had received, she was an attractive woman. I guessed that she would be somewhere in her late 20s or early 30s, though it was possible that she was a bit younger. Hours in the trunk of a car and then sleeping on straw chained in a horse stall does not, as I said above, leave a woman at her best. I emptied the bucket, cleaned it out and put it away. Then, grabbing cuffs and rope I went back to the stall.
Now where does an Arizona rancher get cuffs, you ask? Many years ago in a country that shall remain nameless, I had picked up some bondage gear including lined nylon cuffs with a lockable buckle and a ball gag. I had found them useful when I had interrogations to conduct. They weren't military issue and had managed to stay with the rest of my gear, though I hadn't used them in quite some time.
As I had anticipated she was still dressed. Without further words I pulled her to her feet by the neck chain, spun her around and cuffed her hands behind her. I had moved quickly without words and caught her by surprise but she recovered quickly. With her hands behind her she lashed out with a foot. I half expected this and grabbed her leg and, using it as a lever pushed her back down. I straddled her sitting on her abdomen and ignoring her string of invective I unbuttoned her blouse. I couldn't help noticing that she had nice sized breasts. When I was done with that I lifted myself up and rolled her over so that she was face down. I dropped down sitting, this time, on her ass. It felt firm and shapely but I didn't waste any time observing.
I pulled her blouse down off her shoulders and then unclasped her bra. I pulled the bra back over her head and unbuttoned the cuffs on the blouse. Then I took some rope and tied her elbows together. I couldn't make them quite touch, but I pulled them together until she had plenty of tension on her shoulders. I pushed the blouse and bra as far down as I could, and then tied her wrists together. Only then did I take off the nylon cuffs.
I reversed my position so that I was sitting on the small of her back and her tied wrists, facing her feet and opened the button and zipper on her skirt. I pushed the skirt down off her hips. She was wearing panty hose over her panties and I grabbed the waistbands of both garments and pushed them down over her ass. It was, by the way, a very nice ass. She tried to resist by pressing her abdomen as firmly against the ground as she could but she had little leverage and I worked the garments down past her knees. After tying her knees together I finished stripping her.
I wasn't really upset that she hadn't removed her clothes. I rather enjoyed stripping her. The only reason I had told her to strip was that I understood that forcing a woman to undress was even more humiliating than undressing her. Fear and humiliation were the best tools an interrogator has. They are much better than whips and canes, though these are sometimes required. The problem with pain as an interrogation tool is that the ‘subject' often is unable to think clearly and may say anything to get you to stop. Even though I wasn't upset that I had needed to undress her, I didn't want her to know that.
I yanked her to her feet and marched her to the room where we washed the horses. Along the way I got my first good look at her. She had a nice figure. Her breasts were obviously not perky teenaged breasts but they didn't sag overly much and were very nicely proportioned to her frame. Yes, I know many of the pictures you see on the web show large breasts with no sag. But this is the real world. Unless your woman is silicone enhanced (or, I guess, saline enhanced these days) if she has nice sized breasts gravity will cause them to sag. To my way of thinking the more realistic shape (that is with some sag) is more attractive. After all I prefer playing with real women more than playing with plastic dolls. In any case this woman had nice full breasts with just enough sag to lend a lovely shape that told you she was all natural. I was surprised to note that she had nipple rings and that her pubic hair had been neatly trimmed.
Once in the wash room I ran a line through a ceiling pulley to her wrists. Pulling on the rope I forced her to bend forward. I didn't have a spreader bar but I ran a chain through a length of pipe. One end of the chain was fastened to one of the nylon cuffs which I wrapped around her right ankle and then I tied a rope to the other cuff and wrapped it around her left ankle. I fed the rope through the chain link at the far end of the pipe. I untied her knees, pulled on the rope to her left ankle and forced her to spread her legs to either end of the pipe.
After I secured her ankles in the improvised spreader bar I pulled up further on her wrist rope putting additional strain on her shoulders and forcing her up onto her toes. She was quite attractive this way with her torso parallel to the floor and her breasts hanging away from her chest. I noted that at some point her nipples had become hard. Damn. Was she getting turned on or was it just that without clothes the air was cooler? I palmed her pussy and found it moist.
Since humiliation was a part of breaking her I said, “You must like it rough. I can see you're getting turned on.”
“Is this where you rape me, you bastard?” she spat back.
I said, “No, I'm not into rape. This is when I punish you. You failed to obey my order to strip. That's five strokes. Then you tried to kick me. That's another five”
She made an obscene suggestion which had to do with a physically impossible action, and tried to turn her ass away from me. I used one arm around her waist to hold her and the other to swat her ass with a riding crop. Since she obviously wasn't broken I swatted pretty hard raising red marks as I counted out the strokes. She had managed to avoid crying out but I could see that she had felt the strokes and was struggling not to cry.
I decided the next step was an enema. I am not into feces games, or water sports for that matter, but most people find an enema humiliating, especially if it is forced on them. Then too I planned to make it uncomfortable for her. I had a balloon nozzle that inflated inside the anal canal sealing it against the sphincter preventing leakage. I greased it up and worked it into her, much to her chagrin. She tried to tell me, “Stop that!” And then she asked, “What the hell are you doing back there?” I had to admire her spirit but I ignored her, carefully worked the nozzle in and then, to the accompaniment of more protests, inflated it. I am certain this was physically annoying but no more so than a butt plug.
I used a mixture of hot water, liquid soap, baking soda and Tabasco sauce which I had found to be particularly nasty. The baking soda bubbles inside the colon keep the mixture moving around and prevent the pain from dulling to an ache. The Tabasco just creates a burning sensation on the internal membranes and feels like you are being burned, even though it is actually pretty harmless. I mixed up a full two quarts, hung the bag from the same rope that pulled her hands up, plugged the hose to the nozzle and released the clip. There were no more questions as to what I was doing back there, but the woman did tell something to the effect of my parents not having been married. Since this didn't happen to be correct it didn't bother me at all. In fact I sort of admired her feisty spirit. When she had the full two quarts in her I replaced the clip on the hose and removed the bag for clean up. She had stopped swearing at me but was groaning as the mixture went to work on her.
After I had cleaned up the bag I went back to the woman. She was clearly feeling the solution working on her as she was sweating and trying to move a bit. I could see the slight distention of her belly. Without thinking I gently touched her flank. Apparently that reminded her that I was there and increased her humiliation because she let out a huge wail and then began sobbing. I made a mental note that this might be a useful tactic. After all I wasn't too old to learn new things.
I checked my watch and found that she had been holding the solution in her for a full 20 minutes. Standing well to one side to avoid spatter, I held the hose and opened the valve to let the balloon nozzle deflate. As I expected she expelled her bowels in a gush. I tossed the hose and nozzle in the sink for later clean up and picked up the garden hose.
I sprayed water into her still open sphincter and down her legs and then along the floor until everything was clean. She had reacted with shrieks as the cold water had hit her and danced about as much as her bondage would allow. Remember, her legs were spread wide in my improvised spreader bar and her arms and wrists were pulled up behind her back forcing her to bend forward. Then I decided to have some fun. I brought the hose up between her spread legs and let the cold water splash against her breasts forcing them to dance about. She tried to protest but I just moved the hose slightly and splashed water over her face reducing whatever she had been about to say to sputtering gasps.
I continued to move the hose up until the water was slipping into her pussy. Now most people look at a stream of water and think of it as a solid. Actually it is a very rapid stream of droplets, especially with the nozzle I had on that hose. The effect is that of a very high speed vibrator. Even with that knowledge I wasn't above stacking the deck in my favor. I had attached one of those massage shower heads to the hose and now turned it to full pulse power. Moving my wrist very slightly I was able to keep her from protesting by giving her water in her face, and still keep the pulsing stream flowing into her pussy and around her now very prominent clitoris.
She fought her rising orgasm but I had all day to play and the ultimate outcome was never in doubt. She didn't want to be brought off by her captor, especially in this offhand manner, but I was relentless. It was all part of the ‘I own you, your body is mine and I can make it do whatever I want' humiliation.
I have to tell you that, in my not particularly humble opinion, when women have an orgasm they are at their most attractive. The sheer animal response of their body wipes away all artifice and the raw, unbridled reaction of the body makes them a beautiful sight. Take this woman. She had had a rough day, night and morning so far. She clearly looked somewhat the worse for the treatment she had received. Still, when she came, I thought she looked marvelous.
As I shut off and coiled the hose she said, “I thought you weren't going to rape me?”
I responded innocently, “I won't. I just had to get you cleaned up though. Why, are these sore from the water?” As I said the last I cupped and gently squeezed her breasts, noting that the nipples were hard and elongated. She didn't respond directly but moaned as I played. I guess her breasts were sensitive but whether from the water, a result of her orgasm or just her natural state, I couldn't tell.
I decided that she had been in this strained position long enough. I didn't want to have to deal with a shoulder dislocation which was a real prospect if I left her this way for the next part of the session. I ran a thin cord from each of her big toes to her corresponding nipple ring. That prevented her from moving her body up even when I loosened the rope and let her arms down behind her back. She groaned as the strain came off her shoulders.
She asked, “Well if you aren't going to rape me, why did you kidnap me? I know I'm not such a beauty that you just want to gaze on my nude body.”
“Well, you have a pretty attractive body but you are right. What we want is the name of the person who employed you to steal engineering reports and what your specific instructions were.” I had to admire her spirit.
“I never stole anything. You've made some sort of mistake.” She protested.
I didn't dignify that with a verbal response. Instead I gave her a ‘don't bullshit me' look and reached for her sides. I began with her ribs using just the very tips of my fingers. She hadn't expected to be tickled and hadn't braced for it. Her reaction was shrieks and peals of laughter as I continued down her ribs. I think she managed a “stop!' or two but mostly she was just screaming and twisting.
Oh my, was she twisting. Tied as she was, she couldn't get away from my relentless tickling but she twisted and jerked back and forth. All of which did marvelous things to contort her body and make her breasts jiggle and bob most attractively. Of course that also tugged at her nipple rings limiting how far she could twist and turn. I was enjoying this. I found that her tummy was also ticklish but had the best results on her ribs so I focused there. I guess I could have brought her feet up and gone after her soles but her ribs were so responsive that I didn't bother.
Eventually she was gasping and she lost control of her bladder, pissing along her leg. I stopped tickling her and picked up the hose. She was gasping for breath but I gave her no respite as I used the cold water both to clean her and to drive her to a second orgasm. She was panting but glaring at me when I put down the hose, but she realized that her position was hopeless as I reached for her ribs again.
“All right, enough all ready! I'll tell you what you want to know.” She gasped as she backed up as far as her bonds would allow.
I began by asking her real name which she reluctantly gave me. It was, as you may have assumed from the title, Jenifer. Then she told me the name of Larry Hatch, the VP of Research at a company that competed with Phil's. She claimed that she had been blackmailed first into having sex with the man (though she used a much less complimentary name for him) and then into getting a job with and spying on Phil's company. I asked her what he had to blackmail her with but she refused to tell me. I decided a different sort of torment might be fun. She did say that she thought, though she couldn't be positive, that Larry had hatched the scheme without anyone else being involved.
I untied the loops from her toes and allowed her to stand upright for the first time in several hours. I left the twine attached to her nipple rings and her wrists and elbows tied tightly behind her. Finally I unlocked the improvised spreader bar and turned her around so that she was facing me, bent down, pushed my shoulder into her and wrapped my arm around her legs. Then I stood up lifting her over my shoulder. I am a pretty good judge of character and was pretty well convinced that she had been telling the truth, but I was still interested in what was the basis of her being blackmailed.
As I walked towards the house I brought my other hand up to steady her. At least that's what I told myself as I placed my hand on her ass. It was a nice ass and with her folded over my shoulder it was very taut and firm. OK, so I fondled it a bit. Hey, if I am the dominant one, I can do what I want with my captive. Besides it was a very nice ass.
I took her into my bedroom and dumped her across my king sized bed. Grabbing some ropes I tied one ankle to the headboard and the other to the footboard forcing her into a split that effectively immobilized her. Only then did I untie her wrists and elbows. As you might suspect, after being tied in that strained position for so long she couldn't really move her arms very much. That made it easy to tie one wrist to the headboard and the other to the footboard. Now she was spread eagled across my bed with her legs a full 180 degrees apart and that very nice ass just at the edge of the bed.
Her arousal was apparent. Sure enough when I knelt I could see the lubrication on her labia which were slightly turgid and swollen. I leant forward and pushed my tongue as deep as I could into her slit. I heard her gasp as I moved lapped up as much of the liquid as I could. I slowly built her up, alternating swipes up to her clitoris and deep probes into her. Eventually her stomach and abdomen muscles pulsed as she passed over the edge. For her next orgasm I used my fingers searching in and out rubbing over her ‘G' spot and my mouth over her clit. It took very little time to bring her to another strong orgasm.
Now you may be wondering what I was doing here. It doesn't seem like punishment or torment to bring a woman to two orgasms. I know most women are multi orgasmic and can cum repeatedly. But you have to remember what I said about humiliation being the interrogator's best tool. Also, frequent repeated stimulation with little or no pause or focus on any other part of the body can become very disturbing. Have you never heard of too much of a good thing? Remember this is delicate flesh and no matter how much she might enjoy the first couple of orgasms, continued stimulation with no ability to move, no breaks and no control over what is happening soon become painful. And having enjoyed the intimacy of the first two orgasms I now turned to my big artillery.
No, no! I am not bragging about how I am hung. In any case I had already said that I wasn't into rape. No, I meant the big plug in vibrator that was advertised as a muscle relaxant. Well it certainly wasn't a clit relaxant. I spread her labia with one hand and placed the vibrating head directly over her clitoris. Then I turned it on.
She was already protesting and begging for “No more,” and for me to “Stop, please stop,” but I simply said “Tell me about the blackmail,” and turned the vibrator up a notch. She resisted as best as she could but I kept the vibrator on her clit moving only slightly to change the angle and keep her from becoming numb in one spot. Eventually (after three more rapid fire orgasms) she gave up and screamed “OK, I am a whore and a bondage slut. Now please stop.”
I gazed at her lovely body covered in a glowing sheen of sweat and lying in a puddle of her juices and turned off the vibrator. She gasped for breath while I said, “Let's have the whole story.”
Reluctantly, under threat of more torment, she told me the entire story of why she was vulnerable to blackmail.
The story was an old one. Jenifer was a bright young girl studying electrical engineering at college. She became pregnant. When the guy wanted nothing further to do with her, she got an abortion. Her parents had disowned her and she dropped out of school. A series of not very interesting jobs and eventually she drifted into prostitution. Actually she was pretty lucky there as she got hooked up with an escort service and was a high priced call girl and never got involved with street pimps or drugs.
She worked as a call girl for almost twelve years and actually saved and invested a fair amount of money but she realized that as she passed 30 she couldn't expect to command the same high prices for ever and that she would have to try to get out of the business. She took secretarial courses and then bought false identification using her real first name and the surname of a soldier who had recently died. With a story making her out to be a widow who had been a stay at home wife in order to cover her lack of work experience and the very recent date of her secretarial diploma, she managed to get a legitimate secretarial job. So far things were going well. She lived off her salary and the money saved from her call girl years was invested and growing nicely. She was bright and got promoted to personal assistant to the VP of Research, good old Larry Hatch.
That was when things fell apart. With her promotion to a relatively sensitive position, the company had a background check made, which revealed her real past. The VP (the aforesaid Larry Hatch) had called her into his office one day and confronted her. She was panicked but he offered to cover for her if she provided sexual favors. Unhappy but realizing that her position was tenuous she reluctantly agreed and consummated the deal bent over his desk while he screwed her, both literally and figuratively, from behind.
Unfortunately things got even worse after that. Larry was a real sleaze who forced her to move in with him. He didn't hide her position as his mistress and she lost the few friends she had made as they came to believe that, though she had seemed like a nice woman, she was just a slut who was sleeping with Larry for the promotion. In other words no better than a tramp. Of course good old Larry did nothing to dissuade that belief. Further he found that Jenifer was turned on by bondage and began making a series of videos featuring her at her horniest usually while tied. When he came up with the idea of industrial espionage he threatened not only to fire her but to post all of the videos on the internet and warn any new employer about what sort of a slut she really was.
Now, I guess I didn't really think that having a past as a call girl was that bad but I guess Jenifer had some residual shame and she was convinced that Larry would be able to prevent her from getting a straight job and terrified that he would drive her back into her old profession but probably a few notches down the ladder due to her age and what she viewed as her deteriorating figure. I couldn't help thinking that if she viewed her figure as having deteriorated she must have truly spectacular standards as I couldn't imagine her being any better when she was younger. In any case she eventually agreed to spy on Phil's company for Larry.
I was pretty certain I was getting the true story but I knew we would have to get Larry in order to be certain and to validate that there was no one else inside his company that was involved in the industrial espionage. I would have to call Phil and set up a way to capture Larry. I decided to get Jenifer out of her very strained position so I untied both ankles. She moaned in relief as she brought her legs part way together. I guess her pussy was too raw to bring them all the way closed. Given her very visible exhaustion I also untied her wrists and had her sit up. I fastened her wrists behind her with rope and moved her from my bed room to the house's main room. This ran the entire width of the house and had two pillars supporting the main roof beam.
I took one of the strings that was still dangling from her nipple rings and wrapped it around one post with a slip knot. Then pulling to a point about equidistant between the posts I tied her other nipple ring to the second post. I left some slack in the ropes so that she could move a step or two but not enough to allow her to reach either slip knot. Then I untied her hands. You get the picture, don't you? If she moved left she would tighten the rope on her right breast and tug at her nipple ring. Moving the other way would tug the other breast. Other than the two ropes through the ring she was completely free. The slip knots were in plain view but she couldn't reach them. Similarly she didn't have enough slack to sit though she might be able to kneel if she kept her torso rigidly upright. I watched as she tested the limits of her bondage and slowly became frustrated. So simple and yet she was so completely controlled. The frustration on her face was marvelous to behold.
I talked to Phil and he agreed that we would have to grab Larry and see if the two stories jibbed. I pointed out that I couldn't leave Jenifer alone in the ranch house as it would take the better part of a day to get to San Fran and another to get back. To that we had to add the time to get Larry. Phil suggested just chaining her in a horse stall with adequate food and a couple of latrine buckets. After I hung up I decided that I could do better for Jenifer. I guess I was growing fond of her even back then.
I hunted around the barn and found a large metal screw eye and a length of chain. Going back to the house I screwed the screw eye into the rear wall of my log home, in my bed room. Then I padlocked the chain to the screw eye. I trailed the chain back to the main room, wrapped it around Jenifer's neck and padlocked it to itself. Jennifer protested at ‘being chained up like an animal', but when I told her that I would be away for two or three days and the choice was being chained in the house or in the horse stall, she quieted down. We checked to be certain that the chain was long enough to let her get to the kitchen. The bathroom was accessible from my bedroom so that wasn't going to be a problem.
Finally I took my pistol from the table next to the bed and both of the telephone sets out to the barn. Fortunately there was no cell service so she would be incommunicado while I was gone.
As it happened snatching Larry was as easy as Jenifer had been. Apparently he had thought she had run off and he had taken no special precautions. I got back to the ranch late on the second day. I was hot and tired from having spent almost two days in the car. Larry was strung up in the empty horse stall that had been Jenifer's first night's lodging. I left him with his hands cuffed in front of him and pulled up over his head and his ankles locked into my improvised spreader bar. He could flex his arms and bend his knees but didn't have enough slack to do anything but stand. Poor old Larry was in for an uncomfortable night. I left him hanging there and went to the house.
Jenifer was in the kitchen unloading the dishwasher. She was wearing what appeared to be one of my old T shirts and she certainly looked good enough to eat. When she realized that I was there she sank to her knees and pulled the T shirt over her head. Then she spread her knees, crossing her ankles behind her, straightened her back and placed her hands on her thighs, palms up. She looked like the cover for one of the ‘Gor' books. She then said, “Welcome back Master, shall I prepare a meal for you?”
I was still stunned by how lovely she looked and mumbled some thing about having eaten on the road but that I needed a shower. It wasn't until I turned to go that I realized that she couldn't have gotten a T shirt on or off with the chain around her neck. I looked back and sure enough she was unchained. “What happened to the chain?” I asked.
“I told you I didn't like being chained like an animal. Now go, take your shower and I will explain everything.” She responded.
I half expected to hear cars of FBI agents (they handle interstate kidnapping) pulling up to the house but if she had called in the authorities, the deed had already been done. For some reason, probably because I was punch drunk with all the driving, I really didn't mind her telling me what to do. In fact in my fatigued state it sounded like a pretty good idea so I just went on to take a shower. I had just got the water adjusted when I felt cold air on my back as the shower door opened. I started to turn but stopped when two very female arms came on either side of me and took the soap out of my hands. If I had any doubts about the sex of those arms, the feeling of two soft (well not all that soft) breasts pushing against my back confirmed that there was a nude female in the shower with me. Since there was only one female anywhere near the ranch I knew it was Jenifer.
She began soaping my front with one hand, while remaining behind me. As she was doing this she said, “I was an engineering student. Electrical to be sure, but even so I know all about Archimedes and his ‘give me a long enough lever and I will move the world.' As soon as you left I began looking for something to lever the screw eye out of the wall. I failed a couple of times but eventually I got your broom and mop and used their handles to get it to turn.”
I felt her soapy breasts rubbing against my back as she slipped down. The hand in front thoroughly soaped my rapidly hardening penis and testicles and then moved on down the front of my legs. As she worked she continued her explanation, “Then I borrowed a pair of your boots, walked over to the barn carrying the chain in my hands and found a saw. I cut through the padlock and left the chain in the barn. On the way back I brought back your telephones and your gun and put them all where they belong.”
Since I was facing the shower heads my front was pretty well rinsed by the time I felt her grasp my hips and swing me around. I thought this was to rinse my back, and that may have been the secondary purpose, but as I turned I saw than Jenifer was still kneeling. Without hesitation she took my penis into her mouth. I was a bit in shock, still trying to absorb how she had removed the chain when my groin told me that I didn't really give a damn.
Now, I know, Jenifer had been a prostitute but that night I learned that she must have been a damn good one. The woman licked, sucked, hummed, suctioned and blew. Heck, I can't begin to describe all the sensations. I once had a woman tell me that she could suck a golf ball through a garden hose. I think Jenifer could have done that. Suffice it to say that I erupted into one of the finest orgasms of my life. Of course, I tried to warn her but whatever I said she just pushed me deeper into her and held my hips even tighter.
After I had finished, or more accurately after she had finished me off, we got out of the shower and began to dry each other. It took me a few minutes to get back to reality (though I did have enough presence of mind to dry her breasts very thoroughly) and asked, “What brought that on?”
She smiled at me and said, “It is to make certain you last longer when I seduce you and you tie me to your bed and take me.”
“I told you I'm not into rape.”
She gave me a look mothers reserve for particularly dense children and said, “It isn't rape if the woman wants it, silly. I am going to seduce you and then give you the best screwing you have ever had. Then, when I have you in a post coital stupor, I will ask you for a favor.”
“Post coital stupor?”
“Yes, I've found men to be more malleable after you fuck their brains out.”
Now I don't make any claims at being brilliant. I am, however, smart enough to know that when a woman like Jenifer offers to screw me into a stupor, it would be stupid not to let her have her way. I decided to make things a bit harder for her (no pun intended, though the sight of her nude body was, in fact making me hard) so I crossed her arms behind her back and tied her left wrist just above her right elbow and then tied her other wrist above her other elbow. This is a pretty comfortable tie but certainly prevents her from doing much with her hands.
I couldn't resist checking the night stand. Sure enough my gun was back in its accustomed place. I reached for it and Jenifer said, “Careful it's loaded.”
At that point I realized this lady was so far ahead of me that I was unlikely to catch up with her. I decided that if she had some sort of trap prepared for me I might as well let it happen. Having decided that, I lay back on my bed and looked at her. Jenifer smiled at me, telling me that I was a good boy and knelt on the bed. She swung one leg over me and knee walked up until her abdomen was touching my now very erect penis. I could feel the heat of her body and without conscious thought I twitched. Jenifer rose up a bit and tried to fit me into her but it was pretty slippery and she couldn't quite capture me without her hands. Actually the attempts as she rubbed her labia over my penis were very nice. As she positioned herself her breasts swung from side to side enticingly. After several futile attempts she said, in the most seductive voice I have ever been privileged to hear. “Please Master, help me.”
I don't think any man, at least any heterosexual man, could have resisted and I didn't even try. I reached down and held myself while she slowly slid down. I, quite naturally swung my hips up but Jenifer was having none of that. She said, “You just relax Master. Please let me do this.”
Well, she did say please. What followed was one of the most marvelous experiences I have ever had. Jenifer had fantastic control of her groin muscles and she proceeded to slowly work me to the edge of orgasm, grow still until I was back from the edge and then repeat. I lost track of how many times she did that but each time I was a little further along. Part of the fun was watching her move on me. I tried to stay passive and did pretty well for a while but couldn't resist pulling her down so that she lay on top of me with her clit rubbing my pubic bone each time she slid up and down. I think she had a couple of orgasms but after a brief pause she resumed this marvelous massage. Eventually I came, of course but it seemed to take hours, never coming down, just building further and further.
Even while I was coming she continued to clench and manipulate me with her groin. I felt as though she milked gallons from me though I know in reality it was probably only ounces. The feelings were just that intense. This was my second orgasm of the evening and I was done for the night. Still exhausted or not I wrapped my arms around her and told her how wonderful it had been and how very special she was. After a few minutes of feeling he body comfortably on top of mine I asked, “What's the favor?”
She raised her head so she could look me in the eye and said, “I want to be the one to question Larry in the morning.”
Now this was a bad idea. I didn't want her to lead the subject, I wanted his story. On the other hand if she had told the truth, and I was pretty certain that she had, I couldn't let her injure Larry no matter how much he deserved it. It really didn't make good sense. On the other hand this was a pretty remarkable woman and if her story was true she had been pretty badly treated. Instead of answering directly I changed the subject and asked, “Why didn't you run after you cut the chain off?”
Jenifer sort of sighed and said, “Where would I have gone? Back to Larry's place? With me here or without me Larry is toast. You and Phil both know the story and I don't think you are the kind of guy who will just let bygones be bygones even if you don't have me to tell what happened.”
I had another question. “Why didn't you use my gun and try to turn the tables on me? I walked right in without thinking.”
She stared at me and then said, “I don't think you are the sort of guy who can be bluffed and I didn't want to shoot you.”
I decided to negotiate. “With Larry, I'll have to be in the room and you have to get him to tell the story. You can't put words in his mouth.”
She lifted her head again and I'll be damned if she didn't glare at me. She said, “Do all men think that if you have a nice ass you have no brains? I understand what you want! I just want to be the one to get him to spill the beans.”
“OK, I grant you that you are intelligent. There's one other thing though. You can hurt him but you can't injure him. I don't think he will get the law involved, but if he does I don't want any evidence other than bruises.”
Realizing that she had what she wanted Jenifer leaned up and kissed me very gently. All she said was, “Pity, but thank you Master.” Then she put her head on my chest, slid a bit sideways, wriggled around a bit to get comfortable and went to sleep. I must say I like a woman who knows when it is time to shut up and enjoy her victory.
In the morning I untied Jenifer's arms and we showered and cleaned up. I didn't get a blow job in the shower but I suspect I could have if I had asked for one. Instead we groped and played a while and I shampooed her hair. I think she was surprised when I did this but judging from her soft moans she enjoyed it. It turns out Jenifer had found time to launder her skirt and blouse and iron them while I was on my trip and this morning she dressed as she had been at the office. Well, almost. I watched as she got into her underwear but made a face when she reached for those damn panty hose. She saw my look, wadded them up and tossed them in the waste basket. I smiled. There is something about a woman who can understand you without a lot of words. Also, since she had no stockings she wore a pair of my slippers instead of her own shoes. Together we walked to the barn in a companionable silence.
As you may have realized I had come to pretty much accept Jenifer's story as true. In my mind this Larry guy was the villain. At the same time he was the head of research at a pretty big corporation so I guess I thought he was pretty smart. That opinion changed as soon as he saw Jenifer and began cursing at her. Here is a guy who has been kidnapped and bound and is being approached by an apparently free woman who has plenty of reason to be angry with him. If it were me I think I would be trying to get on her good side or at least keeping my mouth shut until I learned what was going on. Not good old Larry. He cursed, called her a whore and a bitch and threatened all sorts of things once he got out of his present position.
Jenifer just stood in front of him until he ran down. Then she said, in a quiet, quite civilized tone, “Good morning Larry. This gentleman would like to know what my instructions were.”
Larry still didn't get it. He screamed, “Let me down you stupid cunt. I don't know what the hell you're talking about. And don't think this stupid cowboy is going to scare me. Damn it let me go.”
Jenifer smiled and said, “I am so glad you are talking that way. Let's have some fun shall we?” She unbuckled Larry's belt, unbuttoned his pants and pulled down his zipper.
She ignored Larry's curses as she pulled his pants and underwear down. With his ankles held apart by the spreader bar they only went down to about his knees but when I stepped forward to see if she wanted help she waved me back. She turned to me and asked sweetly, “Do you have that twine you used on my nipple rings the other day?”
I really didn't understand Larry Hatch. He was so full of himself he wasn't afraid. I didn't know Jenifer all that well but I knew her well enough that her sweet quiet demeanor was beginning to make me afraid, and she was nominally on my side. I gave her a length of twine. She promptly doubled it and formed a loop which she slipped over Larry's testicles. He protested but aggressively. I think I might have been begging at that point.
Jenifer just stepped around behind Larry and looped the ends of the twine under the spreader bar. With her left hand she yanked the bar back lifting Larry's feet off the ground while with her right she took up the slack in the twine. Of course, when Larry tried to get his feet back down the bar pressed on the twine which pulled, rather painfully, on his testicles. That finally got through to Larry who now fell silent. Jenifer continued to raise the bar and take up the slack until Larry's heels touched his bare butt. Then she tied off the twine to the bar so that Larry couldn't move his feet without castrating himself.
It was a pretty nasty tie and one I had never used. They say the female is the deadlier of the species and I think I was beginning to agree with that. In any case I just watched as Jenifer removed Larry's shoes and socks leaving his bare feet exposed. Then she picked up a riding crop and whacked the sole of his foot. It was a hard whack and while the sole is tough it is also filled with sensitive nerve endings. The interrogation followed with Jenifer asking questions and punctuating each word with a vicious whack to one of Larry's soles. Of course he jerked his legs and pulled on his testicles. I don't think Larry was at all happy.
“Larry… whack… what… whack… were… whack… my… whack… orders… whack?”
“Wrong… whack… answer… whack… Larry… whack. Try… whack… again… whack.”
Well, I won't bore you with a word by word playback. Suffice it to say that Jenifer was relentless. She never varied the technique though she did switch the angle or move from one foot to the other just to keep the shock of the impact fresh. I was really only interested in the industrial espionage but Jenifer wanted the full story including why she had agreed and what he had threatened to do to her. I don't know if that was for my benefit or just that she wasn't done with payback. I suspect it was a little of both. In any case I let her extract her full pound of flesh. She went after others in Larry's company pretty hard but he insisted that it was only him. By that stage she had broken him so completely that I was inclined to believe him. Then she tossed the crop down and said, “I would recommend tiptoes Larry.” She untied the twine from the bar and let Larry drop his feet.
The dummy still wasn't smart enough to listen to her and tried to stand on his inflamed and welted feet only to discover that hurt worse than hanging by his wrists. He soon was balanced precariously on his tip toes. I wondered how long his calf muscles would let him stay in that strained position as I walked Jenifer out of the barn and back to the house.
I called Paul and filled him in then went to take care of the horses. This was still a working ranch. To my surprise Jenifer showed up and pitched in with the chores. She had changed from her office clothes and was wearing one of my cotton work shirts and an old pair of my cut off jeans. The clothes were too big for her so she had tied the shirt off below her breasts which showed an interesting bit of tummy as well as some very interesting cleavage. My jeans weren't too bad around her hips and she had cinched the waist with some of the rope I had left lying around. On her feet she had some of my work stockings and a pair of old sneakers she had found in my closet.
When she first came out I thought she looked ridiculous. On second look however she looked damn tasty. In any case, she wasn't playing games. She pitched in and worked hard. She didn't know much about what needed to be done but once told she picked it up and worked steadily. I was thinking about this as we headed back in for dinner. It was strange, we hadn't said much except to talk about what needed to get done but the afternoon was fun. I guess it was sort of companionable.
In any case I let her shower while I called Phil for a progress report. He was a very happy man. He had met with the head of Larry's company and the guy was very upset at the allegations. He was going to look into it and promised that if the evidence supported what Phil was telling him Larry would be fired. Phil thought that we might as well bring Larry and Jenifer (Phil called her ‘the woman') back down to the bay area and release them.
I was headed towards my shower when Jenifer came in with a bowl of watery oatmeal and asked if she could feed it to Larry. I told her to stay out of reach but to go ahead. I told her that both of them would be released tomorrow but for some reason she didn't seem as happy as I had anticipated. Oh well, I had long ago given up on trying to understand women. After I finished my shower I got dressed and headed towards the kitchen to fix dinner. Imaging my surprise when I found Jenifer had prepared dinner. We sat down to eat and she dropped a bombshell on me.
I was just finishing my first sip of beer, when she said, “I don't want to go back to the bay area. There is nothing for me there.”
I said, “OK by me. Where do you want to go?”
“I could stay here. Look, I don't have anything to go back to. I am a pretty good cook and while I don't know much about ranching, I am a hard worker. I could keep the ranch accounts up to date and you would have your own personal little bondage sex slave to tie and play with.”
She must have seen the frown on my face because she continued, “OK, I get it. You don't want some aging whore around the place.”
I said, “No, Jenifer, that's not it at all. I would love to have you stay. And cooking and handling the accounts would be great. It's just the sex slave part that gives me a problem.”
Boy, that woman could lose her temper! She glared at me as she said, “What the hell do you mean? Don't tell me you didn't enjoy the sex. It was really great and it doesn't get that good unless both partners are enjoying it.”
“Sure I enjoyed the sex. I am a guy and you are one of the most fantastic women I have ever met. You have a great body, neat personality; you are smart and skilled in bed.” I looked down and groped for words. “It's just that you have had a long string of men who just wanted to use you for their pleasure. There was that asshole in college, then your customers and then Larry who not only blackmailed you into sex he made you into a thief. I like you and I don't want to be just the latest guy on that list. So here is the deal. You are welcome to stay as long as you like. You can pitch in with the cooking and chores and do the books to pay your way. I want to have sex with you but not as part of the rent. I want to have sex with you when you want to. And yes, I will tie you up because it turns you on, and yes I will play with your body but only when it is OK with you. And if you decide not to have sex you can still stay.”
I looked up and saw that Jenifer was crying. Oh shit, I must have said it wrong. I said as much and she interrupted me saying, “No you idiot. You didn't say it wrong. It's just been a long time since anyone cared about what I wanted.”
With that she plunked herself down in my lap and added, “And you are going to get sooo lucky tonight.”
And I did!
Well we did have fun and games that evening, but there was more to it than that. I learned more about Jenifer. As I did I came to hate the abuse she had been put through and respect the fact that she was strong enough to survive. I don't think I realized it at the time but, in retrospect, I think I fell in love with her, or perhaps I was already in love and I fell even more deeply in love. One of the things that I learned bothers me to this day. Jenifer is immune to what I would call foreplay. She had been so groped, petted, mauled and, I suppose, fondled that she has shut her body off to the sensations so that she could deal with the sex act without emotional involvement. At least she was immune to foreplay while free. Placing her in bondage seemed to throw some sort of internal switch that let her enjoy all the nasty (well, not really) things I wanted to do to her.
That evening I tried to arouse her without binding her and had no success. I asked her how she had gotten wet enough to take a man when she was a call girl. The answer was vaginal cream. It seems she would excuse herself to go to the bathroom, artificially lubricate herself and then come out and ‘take care of business' with the usual false moans and noises. I guess I could have settled for that approach but there were a couple of problems. First, as a bachelor who was rearing horses on a remote ranch I didn't have any vaginal cream or any reasonable substitute. Secondly it was an ego thing (male egos being the fragile thing that they are). I didn't want to depend on anything artificial with Jenifer.
I remembered how wet she had gotten when I had tied her so I decided to try that. I tied her wrists to her ankles and then tied her elbows to her calves just below her knees. That did the trick as she was wet and ready for my attention. I put her on her back and began to play with her body. In this position her knees were about shoulder width apart which gave me plenty of room to stroke fondle and tease. It was also easy to hold her calves and push her wider open. That let me taste the lovely smooth flesh on the inside of her thighs. Soon I had her begging me to enter her but I wasn't certain how long I would last so I decided to eat her to her to her first orgasm.
After that I rolled her over on the bed so that she was head and shoulders and knees down with her perky butt up in the air. This is a good position as it allows me to really penetrate her. I had planned to go slow but as soon as I slid into her she began to rock back and forth, forcing the pace. Realizing I wasn't going to last anywhere near as long as I had planned I reached around her hip to rub her clit and bring her along. Of course this position also keeps her butt available to be fondled and, rather gently, swatted but realizing I didn't have much time I let that pleasure for another day (night?).
Jenifer was right I got very lucky that night and the next and the next. In fact my life had definitely taken a turn for the better. I think I could say we lived happily ever after, or at least I could if it wasn't for the problem that arose when her friend disappeared. But that's another story (called the Pro Bono Mercenary) for another day.