Kinky Kidnapping
Good morning my corporate slut,
Every now and then I have to do something that is truly diabolical.
Sometimes it’s mostly about the planning. You have no idea how many orgasms I have simply during the preparation stages of the plot I have in store for you. Perhaps I am buying some new toys, maybe I am getting together with girlfriends over drinks to discuss how we are going to pull it off. Maybe when you are sound asleep, I am next to you with my fingers between my legs, eyes closed, imagining how it is all going to play out. Sometimes these little diabolical plans of mine never see the light of day.
Other times, though, they do. Like this time. This little plan of mine – I call it my Christmas present to myself – has been in planning for months now. It’s been the reason for a dozen lovely orgasms just this week as I felt the last pieces of gear in my fingertips and made the final arrangements on the plot. You probably noticed I’ve been smiling a lot more lately and I’ve been somewhat secretive about what is going on this coming weekend. All of that is not a coincidence.
It’s not a coincidence that I’ve kept you in tight chastity for three weeks now. It’s not a coincidence that I’ve milked you increasingly during the time period, and now we are up to twice a day, as painful as that is for you. I know that you strain when the cage comes off and the device is pushed deep into your ass, and you grimace so beautifully when the creamy white cum drips from your nearly useless cock. It all seems so routine now. Or does it? I suppose you probably could never get used to having your cum milked from your body, devoid of absolutely any pleasure.
Regardless, there is a reason for this, and a reason for all the planning I’ve enjoyed so much. You see, my slut, it’s been far too long since I have abducted you. Since I have put all the effort behind a true, painful, realistic kidnapping that leaves you feeling so completely helpless and afraid that I have to silence your pleading and whimpers by sitting on your face and making you surrender to the most important thing you know; my pussy, and my pleasure.
There’s something about reducing you to a complete victim, a toy, a helpless man, through surprise and restraint. Whether I have to drug you, use friends, or even use people I hire to overpower you and put you into shackles, spreader bars and ultimately a tightly laced hood over your head. You will never know how it is going to come to be. In fact, you won’t even know when it is going to happen. I’m only going to tell you that it will be happening in the next thirty days. And, that when it does happen, you are going to simply disappear for 48 hours. Disappear from work, from your friends and your family. Disappear to a dark, lonely place where you will be stripped down to nothingness, retrained to my specifications, face the ultimate dark corners of humiliation and come out of it with a new level of devotion to me.
You can see why my pussy aches when I think about these plans. It’s not even the 48 hours and what I have in store for you, it’s the image of you writhing, struggling to get free, kicking your legs, crying out for help, as the restraints are applied and you find yourself totally helpless. You know I will be watching. You won’t be able to see me. But I will be close by. I will be there, in a short latex skirt, a gloved hand sliding up my thigh to my pussy. I may finger myself just enough to bring moisture to your lips and let you have a taste, to remind you once again that there’s a reason for your suffering.
Or, perhaps, I may choose to abduct you in a very special way, where my assistants pull you down and pin you from behind as I place my moist panties tightly over your nose and mouth, applying the duct tape so quickly and deftly that you cannot even manage a muffled whimper before you’re silenced. The scent of my pussy will overwhelm you. Every time you inhale, you’ll be assaulted with the knowledge of how aroused I was; those panties, taped over your face, just came from between my legs, after all. My own little special drugged panties, so to speak, designed to make you succumb, stop struggling, and allow the last of the shackles to be locked into place. From there, though, you are really doomed.
It’s a dark, dreary little place I have picked out for your seclusion. I wanted it to be far away, I wanted it to be scary and intimidating. The floors, the walls, the ceilings are equipped with eye hooks so that I can fasten the shackles, the sunken bath tub has metal bars that I can bind you do for your bathing. The dining area is equipped with a cage that you will find yourself in at meal time, earning every little scrap of food. When we sleep, you will realize your place again at the foot of the bed, restrained in the clothing I select for you, my vibrating plug deep in your ass, reminding you again that your holes are for my use.
Perhaps the best part of all will be that you have no idea when it will end. You have no idea what friends I have invited to participate. You have no idea which limits of yours I will so deliciously push, leaving you frightened and vulnerable, each time, lowering my pussy on your face as a reminder that there is a reward. I look forward to your pleading between my thighs, your muffled whimpers as I squeeze my legs tight enough together that I nearly choke you. I look forward to the look in your eyes when you realize you must accommodate my new, largest dildo, both in my harness and in my hand, both in your mouth and in your ass.
Rest assured, this time will be mine. Mine to use you, for my pleasure and my pleasure alone. I can give you no advice other than that you need to be prepared. And if you are going to struggle, make sure you do it in a way that makes me wet. After all, those panties are going to find their way into your mouth, I can assure you. You might as well make them very, very wet.
Affectionately.
Mistress Akasha
(c) Copyright 2005. All rights reserved. akasha@akashaweb.com
