with her training in the future. He rose and walked downstairs, smirking at the anticipation in J’s face as she gripped the bars on her door and stared blankly towards his footsteps. Jason pressed the lever to lower the chain, and A sank slowly to her knees. He unhooked her wrist cuffs and she sank to the cold floor and curled up.
Jason walked over to the chair and sat down. “Come, A. You have thirty seconds.”
Amy stared at nothing for a moment, and then groaned while she struggled to her knees. Her body was shaking from the hours of strain, but she managed to slide a leg forward. By the time she reached him, his slow count had been on ten… and tears were sliding down her cheeks.
Amy felt his hand on the back of her head and he pulled it onto his thigh. He sifted the white strands through his fingers. “You understand you will not be ransomed,” he stated. He felt her nod. “You understand you can not get out of this cellar. There is a locked door at the top of the stairs.” She nodded again.
God. Just get this over with. Do whatever the hell you want, and let me go. She felt his hand on her arm again. He lifted her and walked her to her cage. Amy crawled in and curled onto the mattress, staring in the direction of the passionate gasps coming from the cage further down. The man’s footsteps had ascended back upstairs.
The next morning, she was leaning back against the bars when she heard him come back. Her door was unlocked and she quivered. Amy heard him across the room, calling to her. “Come, A.”
Her muscles ached from the constricted position he had chained her in the day before, and her legs and feet were scraped and sore. The welts on her thighs and bottom were a dull reminding throb of the agony of his belt. She was certain there were worse punishments he would dole out if she continued to balk at his orders. Amy had spent part of the night considering the other captive. She had no idea how long the girl had been part of this nightmare, but she seemed to be making her way unharmed by somewhat accepting her captivity.
Amy worked her way out of the cage and she managed to lean against the bars to stand. Her legs hurt too badly to crawl. Instead of sweeping for obstacles, she took very small steps. After some navigation and following the countdown, she felt his hands on her shoulders. “Eeese,” she whispered.
Jason tilted her chin, as if she could look into his face. “Be still, A.” He knew it had cost her a lot to finally reduce herself to begging.
Amy felt herself being guided back into a chair. Her hands were lifted over the back and hooked behind the seat. Fingers reached behind her head, and a collar she did not even realize she was wearing was locking her into an upright position. This bothered her. She had thought she was naked, except for the ankle and wrist cuffs. Why didn’t I notice the collar? Because… wearing a collar makes you his slave. Amy realized that something in her mind had refused to acknowledge the leather band.
Her tired muscles tried to keep her legs together when the man gripped an ankle. It was easy for him to secure it to the bottom leg of the chair, but she had swayed the other one so that it rested tightly beside it. “Come on, little one. Let’s see what ya’ got,” the man said. It did not take much strength for the Jason to spread her thighs and get the other ankle locked into place.
Belts on the chair locked around her knees, thighs, waist, and below and above her small chest. Amy could not move and she was squeezing her eyes closed with embarrassment, even though she could not see a thing with them open. A few seconds later, she felt his fingers pinching and pulling her small nipples.
Amy shook her head and whined softly while Jason worked the pale pink flesh to puckered nodes. He slid clamps on the bases and he placed his hands on her thighs when she tried to lift her bottom off the chair while she wailed. You can handle this. You’re just not
Jason walked over to the chair and sat down. “Come, A. You have thirty seconds.”
Amy stared at nothing for a moment, and then groaned while she struggled to her knees. Her body was shaking from the hours of strain, but she managed to slide a leg forward. By the time she reached him, his slow count had been on ten… and tears were sliding down her cheeks.
Amy felt his hand on the back of her head and he pulled it onto his thigh. He sifted the white strands through his fingers. “You understand you will not be ransomed,” he stated. He felt her nod. “You understand you can not get out of this cellar. There is a locked door at the top of the stairs.” She nodded again.
God. Just get this over with. Do whatever the hell you want, and let me go. She felt his hand on her arm again. He lifted her and walked her to her cage. Amy crawled in and curled onto the mattress, staring in the direction of the passionate gasps coming from the cage further down. The man’s footsteps had ascended back upstairs.
The next morning, she was leaning back against the bars when she heard him come back. Her door was unlocked and she quivered. Amy heard him across the room, calling to her. “Come, A.”
Her muscles ached from the constricted position he had chained her in the day before, and her legs and feet were scraped and sore. The welts on her thighs and bottom were a dull reminding throb of the agony of his belt. She was certain there were worse punishments he would dole out if she continued to balk at his orders. Amy had spent part of the night considering the other captive. She had no idea how long the girl had been part of this nightmare, but she seemed to be making her way unharmed by somewhat accepting her captivity.
Amy worked her way out of the cage and she managed to lean against the bars to stand. Her legs hurt too badly to crawl. Instead of sweeping for obstacles, she took very small steps. After some navigation and following the countdown, she felt his hands on her shoulders. “Eeese,” she whispered.
Jason tilted her chin, as if she could look into his face. “Be still, A.” He knew it had cost her a lot to finally reduce herself to begging.
Amy felt herself being guided back into a chair. Her hands were lifted over the back and hooked behind the seat. Fingers reached behind her head, and a collar she did not even realize she was wearing was locking her into an upright position. This bothered her. She had thought she was naked, except for the ankle and wrist cuffs. Why didn’t I notice the collar? Because… wearing a collar makes you his slave. Amy realized that something in her mind had refused to acknowledge the leather band.
Her tired muscles tried to keep her legs together when the man gripped an ankle. It was easy for him to secure it to the bottom leg of the chair, but she had swayed the other one so that it rested tightly beside it. “Come on, little one. Let’s see what ya’ got,” the man said. It did not take much strength for the Jason to spread her thighs and get the other ankle locked into place.
Belts on the chair locked around her knees, thighs, waist, and below and above her small chest. Amy could not move and she was squeezing her eyes closed with embarrassment, even though she could not see a thing with them open. A few seconds later, she felt his fingers pinching and pulling her small nipples.
Amy shook her head and whined softly while Jason worked the pale pink flesh to puckered nodes. He slid clamps on the bases and he placed his hands on her thighs when she tried to lift her bottom off the chair while she wailed. You can handle this. You’re just not
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