anonymous
10-31-2007, 07:20 PM
Slave days of Andrea Thompson
Part 2
Thursday
It takes several hours to reach the next stage of transport, my private jet just this side of the border. The airstrip is empty, as per instructions and the jet is fuelled. Checking Andrea, I carefully ready a syringe and give her a sleepy-shot before bundling her bound form into the plane and strapping her down tightly. Once done, we take off for a private secluded estate far far away in a corner of the world where folks couldn’t care less about what you’re doing and what you get up to.
Landing at another barren airstrip three hours later, I move my cargo to the boot of the waiting car, give her another sleepy shot, and, after a few hours rest, begin the final leg of the journey to a private secluded estate far-far away in a corner of the world where folks couldn’t care less about what you’re doing and what you get up to.
Friday
I arrive at my discreet mountain home many hours later, well after sunrise. The building itself is modest but I chose it for the size of it’s wooded grounds and isolation. With over a hundred miles between the neighbours and myself it’s quite private and VERY secure. But to me, though, it was sold on the extensive cellars, a virtual labyrinth of passages and solid reinforced concrete storerooms. Nobody knows who built them and I don’t really care… but as a private dungeon they are perfect.
Once the car is parked in the cavernous garage I open the boot to review my cargo… Andrea’s still immobile, which immediately raises suspicion. So I stand there and watch… yes – she’s actually holding her breath!!! – Probably in panic…
Grinning, I slap her ass. She judders in her bonds and screams in shock – the hood and gag reducing her volume to a delightful soft wailing, it’s quite delicious to watch her struggling and trying to cry out. Chest heaving and legs twisting against their bonds.
I smile as she blows off steam, fighting against rock solid bonds, and make a quiet note to install recording equipment in the car park to capture these moments in future. A few minutes pass and as Andrea begins to slow down I strike, pressing a hefty chloroform pad over her exposed nose…
She quickly slumps limply once more but I keep the pad pressed against her face a while longer - To make sure. Chloroform can be lethal if used badly but I’ve more than enough intelligence to make sure that doesn’t happen. The stuff also had alleged long term side-effects as well, causing damage to the liver and kidneys… but that won’t be a problem either as Andrea will be long cold before she gets THAT much exposure to the stuff.
Grinning at the thought, I heft her limp body up out of the boot and over my shoulder, slap her well-built ass and stride towards the “holding rooms”.
Passing through several heavy plate steel doors we arrive in the chamber I like to call “Reception”, it’s an almost bare chamber with the walls, floor and ceiling of mottled grey reinforced striated concrete. In fact, most of the cellars are like this, my only additions being the state of the art visual/audio recording systems, the solid steel pass card doorways and the diffuse lighting.
I drop Andrea onto the cold hard ground, and she rolls limply onto her back (Which seems a natural position for her… chuckle) and I begin to prepare her for the first moments of consciousness in her new home.
The hood remains in place for the “unmasking ceremony” I have planned to occur after she’s conscious, I like to fuck my toys minds along with their bodies. Using both to the absolute maximum.
Standing over Andrea I remember my mental note to “take my time” with stripping her, I have no reason to rush – the chloroform should keep her down for a while and even if she was able to move she’s in no fit state to resist, having gone over a day without food or water.
The jacket is removed first, giving me a better view of her chest and torso… I’m not disappointed.
Next comes the pants, pulling a rather expensive belt free I tear them open and slide them over her well built hips, over her ass and down her long firm legs… My erection rages and I want her NOW but manage to barely maintain my discipline.
Rolling her over onto her impressive front my attention moves to her ass… clad in a quite skimpy piece of black lingerie, that is removed in seconds as I tear it away to reveal a magnificent butt. I’m happy shes looked after it so well. Taking my time I lean forward over her body, pressing myself against that glorious bottom, and pull the shirt from her back, Andrea’s arms flop limply as the wrists catch in the sleeves but I soon tug them free to flop to the ground.
My breath catches in my throat and I’m overcome by a dizzy buzz as I look down on Andrea naked bar a bra as black, lacy and skimpy as her knickers – and just as easily ripped away.
And now she IS naked, face down before me.
Life is tough, eh!
I examine Andrea’s body for damage, especially checking her thumbs and toes as those thumb/toe cuffs can easily break bones and rip the flesh of unwilling captives. But no – they’re all fine… and I move to her body in general. Running my hands up her legs, arse, hips and back, marvelling at her trim fit condition and tone – all mine to use, abuse and violate in any way desired.
Rolling her onto her back once more I examine the rest of her, and for a woman of forty her condition is marvellous.. very little has slipped. Her tits are round and firm, large-but not too big. Even her stretch marks seem secondary… I make a second mental note, this time to extract her health regime before she passes out of my hands, one way or another.
I stand, and nod, reluctantly moving away to begin re-restraining this soon to be extinct talent, the wait is over and I grow bored with simple titillation, time for the induction.
I have a favourite heavy oak coffee table for these moments, it’s incredibly sturdy and a girl can be bound to it in various positions… Andrea is bound face up with arms and legs twisted round and under it to be securely strapped together.
Still hooded, she lies there, her chest slowly rising and lowering as she breathes, face still hooded, and still unconscious. Pushing her legs open I rub my pre-lubricated cock across her loins and then press in… slowly sliding into her snatch, gripping her teats I twist them suddenly and push in harder…
It is then she awakens, and I thrill at what must be her first thoughts…
Hooded, bound, naked, cold air on her flesh and being violated by an unknown man
She begins to writhe, wriggling frantically as muffled cries emanate from the leather hood, tits giggling from side to side and legs circling against the tight ankle bonds.
She clenches too, and I grunt with pleasure, pounding onwards towards a rapid climax. As my balls tighten I pull out to shoot a thick stream across her belly in juddering delight.
Andrea goes limp in her bonds, and her chest heaves with the faint sounds of sobbing from under the hood, it’s a delicious sound, a thrilling sound, and it lets me know shes beginning to realise her situation.
Gods her tits jiggle nicely…. I slap one and watch it bounce as she tenses up in fear, it’s big and round and I slap it again, chuckling. She hears me and sobs.. Standing to look down at her bound up helpless nudity I take a single Polaroid shot and leave Andrea to spend the night alone.
Bound, naked, helpless, soiled and hooded.
Turning off the light,sealing the steel door, confident the recorders will pick up her hopeless struggles in the dark, I dream of tomorrow.
No doubt andrea does too… all scared and alone.
Well, almost alone – she hasn’t seen her predecessor,
Yet
Part 2
Thursday
It takes several hours to reach the next stage of transport, my private jet just this side of the border. The airstrip is empty, as per instructions and the jet is fuelled. Checking Andrea, I carefully ready a syringe and give her a sleepy-shot before bundling her bound form into the plane and strapping her down tightly. Once done, we take off for a private secluded estate far far away in a corner of the world where folks couldn’t care less about what you’re doing and what you get up to.
Landing at another barren airstrip three hours later, I move my cargo to the boot of the waiting car, give her another sleepy shot, and, after a few hours rest, begin the final leg of the journey to a private secluded estate far-far away in a corner of the world where folks couldn’t care less about what you’re doing and what you get up to.
Friday
I arrive at my discreet mountain home many hours later, well after sunrise. The building itself is modest but I chose it for the size of it’s wooded grounds and isolation. With over a hundred miles between the neighbours and myself it’s quite private and VERY secure. But to me, though, it was sold on the extensive cellars, a virtual labyrinth of passages and solid reinforced concrete storerooms. Nobody knows who built them and I don’t really care… but as a private dungeon they are perfect.
Once the car is parked in the cavernous garage I open the boot to review my cargo… Andrea’s still immobile, which immediately raises suspicion. So I stand there and watch… yes – she’s actually holding her breath!!! – Probably in panic…
Grinning, I slap her ass. She judders in her bonds and screams in shock – the hood and gag reducing her volume to a delightful soft wailing, it’s quite delicious to watch her struggling and trying to cry out. Chest heaving and legs twisting against their bonds.
I smile as she blows off steam, fighting against rock solid bonds, and make a quiet note to install recording equipment in the car park to capture these moments in future. A few minutes pass and as Andrea begins to slow down I strike, pressing a hefty chloroform pad over her exposed nose…
She quickly slumps limply once more but I keep the pad pressed against her face a while longer - To make sure. Chloroform can be lethal if used badly but I’ve more than enough intelligence to make sure that doesn’t happen. The stuff also had alleged long term side-effects as well, causing damage to the liver and kidneys… but that won’t be a problem either as Andrea will be long cold before she gets THAT much exposure to the stuff.
Grinning at the thought, I heft her limp body up out of the boot and over my shoulder, slap her well-built ass and stride towards the “holding rooms”.
Passing through several heavy plate steel doors we arrive in the chamber I like to call “Reception”, it’s an almost bare chamber with the walls, floor and ceiling of mottled grey reinforced striated concrete. In fact, most of the cellars are like this, my only additions being the state of the art visual/audio recording systems, the solid steel pass card doorways and the diffuse lighting.
I drop Andrea onto the cold hard ground, and she rolls limply onto her back (Which seems a natural position for her… chuckle) and I begin to prepare her for the first moments of consciousness in her new home.
The hood remains in place for the “unmasking ceremony” I have planned to occur after she’s conscious, I like to fuck my toys minds along with their bodies. Using both to the absolute maximum.
Standing over Andrea I remember my mental note to “take my time” with stripping her, I have no reason to rush – the chloroform should keep her down for a while and even if she was able to move she’s in no fit state to resist, having gone over a day without food or water.
The jacket is removed first, giving me a better view of her chest and torso… I’m not disappointed.
Next comes the pants, pulling a rather expensive belt free I tear them open and slide them over her well built hips, over her ass and down her long firm legs… My erection rages and I want her NOW but manage to barely maintain my discipline.
Rolling her over onto her impressive front my attention moves to her ass… clad in a quite skimpy piece of black lingerie, that is removed in seconds as I tear it away to reveal a magnificent butt. I’m happy shes looked after it so well. Taking my time I lean forward over her body, pressing myself against that glorious bottom, and pull the shirt from her back, Andrea’s arms flop limply as the wrists catch in the sleeves but I soon tug them free to flop to the ground.
My breath catches in my throat and I’m overcome by a dizzy buzz as I look down on Andrea naked bar a bra as black, lacy and skimpy as her knickers – and just as easily ripped away.
And now she IS naked, face down before me.
Life is tough, eh!
I examine Andrea’s body for damage, especially checking her thumbs and toes as those thumb/toe cuffs can easily break bones and rip the flesh of unwilling captives. But no – they’re all fine… and I move to her body in general. Running my hands up her legs, arse, hips and back, marvelling at her trim fit condition and tone – all mine to use, abuse and violate in any way desired.
Rolling her onto her back once more I examine the rest of her, and for a woman of forty her condition is marvellous.. very little has slipped. Her tits are round and firm, large-but not too big. Even her stretch marks seem secondary… I make a second mental note, this time to extract her health regime before she passes out of my hands, one way or another.
I stand, and nod, reluctantly moving away to begin re-restraining this soon to be extinct talent, the wait is over and I grow bored with simple titillation, time for the induction.
I have a favourite heavy oak coffee table for these moments, it’s incredibly sturdy and a girl can be bound to it in various positions… Andrea is bound face up with arms and legs twisted round and under it to be securely strapped together.
Still hooded, she lies there, her chest slowly rising and lowering as she breathes, face still hooded, and still unconscious. Pushing her legs open I rub my pre-lubricated cock across her loins and then press in… slowly sliding into her snatch, gripping her teats I twist them suddenly and push in harder…
It is then she awakens, and I thrill at what must be her first thoughts…
Hooded, bound, naked, cold air on her flesh and being violated by an unknown man
She begins to writhe, wriggling frantically as muffled cries emanate from the leather hood, tits giggling from side to side and legs circling against the tight ankle bonds.
She clenches too, and I grunt with pleasure, pounding onwards towards a rapid climax. As my balls tighten I pull out to shoot a thick stream across her belly in juddering delight.
Andrea goes limp in her bonds, and her chest heaves with the faint sounds of sobbing from under the hood, it’s a delicious sound, a thrilling sound, and it lets me know shes beginning to realise her situation.
Gods her tits jiggle nicely…. I slap one and watch it bounce as she tenses up in fear, it’s big and round and I slap it again, chuckling. She hears me and sobs.. Standing to look down at her bound up helpless nudity I take a single Polaroid shot and leave Andrea to spend the night alone.
Bound, naked, helpless, soiled and hooded.
Turning off the light,sealing the steel door, confident the recorders will pick up her hopeless struggles in the dark, I dream of tomorrow.
No doubt andrea does too… all scared and alone.
Well, almost alone – she hasn’t seen her predecessor,
Yet