An Eternity in Pain
by John Savage
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2009 John Savage
Published by Strict Publishing International
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Chapter I
The Sounds of Pain
The sound of leather hitting bare female flesh is exciting. The squeal of pain that escapes around the ball gag in her mouth is delightful. The tears racing down her cheeks to fall on the floor are a wonder to behold.
All these things and much more were being enjoyed by a short man with extremely hairy chest and back, and a whip in his hand. The target of that whip was a young woman tied across a bed sideways. She was face down, her legs spread wide and tied to the top and bottom frame of the bed. Her wrists were also tied to opposite corners, and her head hung over the side. Her bare bottom was already marked repeatedly with vivid red welts.
The man was as naked as the woman. His bowlegs and hairy torso only added to his ugliness, for his face was a most unpleasant combination of thick mustache and evil, dark eyes. He cut again with the whip, evoking another muffled cry and a jerk of the lovely, tied down body. An erection of surprisingly huge proportion announced his readiness to fuck his helpless victim.
He struck again. There was very little space left on that ass for fresh whipmarks, so he laid a couple across the backs of her thighs. This time it was a real, honest scream of pain that forced its way past the rubber ball. Her body went rigid all over as it strained against the ropes. Her ass cheeks were clenched tightly, which made it a target he could not ignore. In quick succession he struck that tight ass with three vicious blows delivered with all the force in his arm. It mattered not to him that he had placed these fresh torments directly upon flesh already abused and painful.
Tossing aside the whip, he quickly mounted the bed and was between her wide spread legs, forcing his rod into her eagerly. With a total disregard for the tenderized flesh under him, he pounded away like a wild animal, ramming his rod deep into her sheath. His hands grabbed her hips and pulled them up the little bit her bondage allowed to make it easier for him to plunge deeply inside her.
Grunting, animal sounds accompanied his performance.
For the woman on the bed, it was a strange mixture of pain and arousal. The tortured skin of her ass forced tears from her eyes and cries from her lips. But it also made her sex hot and pulsing with desire. As his rod repeatedly plunged into her, she gasped with intertwined pleasure and pain. Long before that point, she had ceased rational thought and simply reacted as a primitive female in heat.
His technique was brutal and painful. But it did the job. As he was feeling the buzz in his balls announcing the coming of a climax, she was also feeling the rising heat that told her she would be granted some pleasure amid all this pain. They both came about the same time; not through planning or consideration for each other, but through coincidence.
Much later he rolled his exhausted body off her. After cleaning up in the bathroom and dressing, he finally knelt down by the woman. He unbuckled the strap holding the rubber ball inside her mouth and plucked it out with a plopping sound. Then he cupped her chin with his hand and tilted her face up so he could look into her eyes. But he said nothing.
“I had an orgasm,” she whispered. “You will have your wish.” He let her head drop and went off to get a cup of coffee, a satisfied man in more ways than one.
Chapter II
Pick Up
The woman who walked into the Cozy Lounge in Santa Rosa was something else. She was tall, walked gracefully on high heels, and wore a short, tight black dress that left little to the imagination. Her hair was deep ebony and long, almost to her waist. The visible tops and the way they pushed against the dress hinted at a magnificent set of breasts. Her waist curved in delightfully, then flared to hips that were just wide enough. The dress ended well above her knees and was slit up one side. The legs revealed were… Well, perfect was the only appropriate word.
Male heads all over the lounge turned in her direction. It was more than just to check out the newcomer; it was something special, an extrasensory presence that she broadcast, and one that males could not ignore. The few women present also turned to look. There was something about her magnetism that attracted them also.
She looked around casually, not seeming to study the patrons but still not missing anything. Then she went to the bar and perched on a stool. She crossed her legs in a display that set hearts beating a little faster.
Trying to appear casual, the bartender came over. “What will you have?” he asked as he eyed the cleavage on display.
“A Manhattan.” Her voice was pure sex, what every man wished his women sounded like. Yet she did not seem to be trying to sound sexy; she simply was.
He brought her drink. She sipped and then waited.
It was not more than two minutes before the first male approached her. “I see you have a drink. Can I buy you the next one?”
“Maybe...” she purred.
Without asking permission, he sat on the stool next to her. “My name is Pete. I don’t believe I’ve seen you in here before.”
“A poor variation of ‘do you come here often?’,” she said simply.
“Just a question,” he replied as he placed his whiskey on the bar. “May I ask your name?”
“Jeannie. And I’ve never been here before.”
He was looking into her eyes and trying to place her nationality. Her skin was just the slightest shade on the dark side. The features were vaguely oriental, but only slightly. He could not have placed a label on her ancestry but did mentally place the label “Prime Grade A-1 Sex” on her body.
Jeannie was returning his appraising gaze with her own. She waited to see if the feeling came. After a few seconds it did not and she knew this was not the man.
“I don’t think that I am what you are looking for,” she told him.
“Why not? I think you’re exactly what I’m looking for!” His grin was more than a little lecherous.
“I’m not interested,” she said.
He seemed rather shocked by the immediate dismissal. He was not a bad looking man, in his mid-thirties and trim. He had taken his wedding ring off before coming to the lounge so it would not scare girls away. He was not used to being brushed off so rapidly.
“I can be generous,” he ventured. If she was not just looking to get laid, then she was probably a hooker, which was okay with Pete – so long as she was not too expensive.
She sipped her drink and did not bother to answer him.
“Oh, you like only other women, huh?”
Again she ignored him.
Lacking another approach, he picked up his drink and left, trying to project the attitude to anyone watching that he had rejected her, not the other way around.
Jeannie waited. Long experience at such things told her that eventually the right man would come along. The feeling would tell her and she would leave with that man and no one else.
Two more would-be seducers were shot down by the drop-dead gorgeous woman before the accountant type made his pitch.
“I would like to meet you,” he said simply. “I’m Marvin.”
Jeannie felt it immediately. This was the man. She looked him over. Not what she would have expected, but who was she to argue with the feeling? He was shorter than she was, on the skinny side and wore glasses. It would not have surprised her to see a pocket-protector in his shirt. He had that much of a geek look about him.
“Have a seat, Marvin,” she told him. “I could use some company.”
Had it been totally up to her, she would have shoved her hand down his pants, grabbed his dick, and asked him, “Your place or mine?” But these matters were not always under her control. She would have to go through the preliminaries first, the small talk, getting to know each other and all that before she suggested going to his place. She had found that cutting right to the chase often scared men away. And, no matter how she felt about it, if the feeling came, she had to give her body to this man. There was no choice in the matter.
So she told him her name, made up a story about being a traveling saleslady (men actually believed that!), and made him know that she was attracted to him. She wondered if for once the feeling had gone wrong in picking this mother’s boy for her. That would have been strange. She had never known the feeling to be wrong.
Finally it came down to “your place or mine,” to which she insisted that his place would be much better. In the parking lot she offered to follow him. Marvin seemed a little skeptical, as if this beautiful woman was just teasing him and would drive off, laughing all the way. She promised that she would follow, so what could he do? Drag her to his car and force her in?
She did follow him like a faithful puppy dog. He drove a compact Japanese car that looked like all the other cars on the road. Her Jaguar followed but would rather have led him on a merry chase.
His place was about what she expected, a middle class apartment in a respectable part of town. He fumbled with the key, so anxious was he to get her inside. Geeks like him rarely scored with any girl, and never with drop-dead gorgeous chicks. Once inside he resisted the urge to lock the door. Instead he offered her a drink.
Jeannie sat on the sofa as if she owned the place. The scotch he handed her was not the quality she was used to, but she took a sip to be polite. He did not touch his drink for he was too busy eyeing her long legs and those black, patent leather high heels.
She was tempted to ask if he would like to fuck, just to see if he would faint. Instead she told him a totally false story about how she had always had this fantasy about being taken forcibly by a man. She could see him swallow hard when she said it. She leaned forward to give him a good show of breast, and whispered, “I like men like you.”
“I… Well….” Marvin was at a loss for words. She wanted to smack his face. Did he not know when a woman was coming on to him? Would she have to rip her clothes off and lay on the floor with spread legs before he would get the hint?
Maybe the feeling was wrong this time. This wimp did not impress her as a man who would take charge, a man who would treat her like dirt, abuse her, control her, and hurt her terribly. The feeling had to be wrong!
To hell with this, she told herself. The urge to get up and walk out was strong. But stronger was the absolute control that would make her give herself to this man, no matter what that took.
She stood up. “I’m going to the bedroom,” she told him. “I’ll get ready. You know what to do, lover boy.”
As she swayed her hips on the way to the bedroom, she wondered if he really did know what to do.
The bedroom was neat, no dirty clothes lying around. A small bookshelf showed that he liked to read in bed. Jeannie slipped out of the high heels, a relief after walking around in them for the last few hours, and then unzipped her dress. Underneath she wore no underwear, so it did not take long before she was ready. The dress she laid out on the dresser. It was a very expensive dress and she did not want it to get wrinkled. She tossed the covers off the bed and lay down on the cool sheet. She propped herself up on one elbow, crossed one leg over the other, turned her breasts towards the door, and tried her hardest to look sexy. That, as you can guess, was not hard at all.
Marvin came in and froze at the sight of her on his bed. For a long time he simply stared. He seemed to be particularly fascinated by her shaved pubic patch, or rather lack of patch. Jeannie was wondering what else she would have to do when Marvin finally said something intelligent.
“Are you serious about that fantasy?”
“Very,” she purred. “Do you know how to take a woman?”
He swallowed, and then approached the bed. Looking down at her, he seemed to change. He was less hesitant as he told her, “I guess the first thing to do it to tie her up.”
Finally! The feeling was not wrong.
“You have rope?” she asked. She held out both hands with the wrists together as if offering them for tying.
“Yes, I do. Stay here, I’ll get it.” Gone was the stuttering wimp. The new Marvin was still not much of a hunk, but at least he was headed in the right direction.
That direction took him to the closet. From a package he took out a coil of white cotton clothesline, still in the store’s plastic wrap. He pulled off the plastic and began unwinding the rope.
“You might cut it into thirds or quarters,” she advised. “That would make it easier to tie me.”
From a drawer he extracted a pocket knife and used it to cut the fifty feet of rope into three more or less equal lengths. He turned back to Jeannie with one of them in his hand.
“Have you ever tied up a girl?” she asked him. She knew she was going to be tied and fucked. It was her perverse nature that insisted upon the bondage being real – that is to say, escape-proof. Otherwise the game would be just so much show and not real.
“A few times. As kids.”
She stood up and turned her back to him. She put her hands together behind her back, crossed the wrists and told him to wrap the rope tightly around them. As he was doing that, she had to insist that he stop and do it over because it was far too loose the first time. The redo was much better. She told him how to use the last few feet to cinch down the other ropes and then how to tie the knots up between her wrists where her fingers could not reach it.
She turned back to face him again. “Now you have me tied,” she told him. “I’m helpless.” She accented that by stepping forward until her breasts pushed against his upper chest. His chin was almost buried between them.
She knew she was lying. She could easily kick him in the balls and use that pocket knife on the dresser to cut her way free and be gone before he stopped moaning. But she had to play the game. So she stood there while he grabbed her breasts and began squeezing them.
She moaned, mostly for show and to encourage him. He was not really very good at teasing a woman’s breasts. It went on like that for a while. Jeannie sat on the edge of the bed while he pinched her nipples and she squealed. He seemed to think that hurting her nipples was turning her on. Well, true, it was. Jeannie was one of those women who responded to pain, turning it into pleasure in a twisted, strange way.
So she reclined back on her bound arms and spread her legs, hoping he knew what to do. She was surprised when he told her to turn over and put her legs together. She obeyed, wondering if there were hidden depths to his man. Glancing sideways at him, she found he was taking the belt out of his pants. She grinned.
When he hit her bottom, it was not very hard at all. But Jeannie squealed a little to encourage him. The next few strokes were better, but still far short of really turning her bottom red and sore, the way a whipping should. Finally, she could not hold back and called out, “Harder! Harder!”
The next dozen strokes were, indeed, harder. She had felt much worse, but these were improving. She could feel a warmth beginning in her pussy. Maybe there was hope for the evening.
A strange thing occurred then. Marvin began striking her bottom much harder, hard enough to make her really cry out from the sting and burning sensation. Back and forth went the belt, forehand and backhand slashes on her soft flesh. He was really putting his strength into the swings now, striking the flesh with loud smacking sounds accompanied by sobbing from the bound girl. He was muttering something as he swung away, words choked out through clenched teeth.
“God damn you! Damn you!” he swore. But then Jeannie was sure she heard him call her “mother.” It did not take a genius to realize that he had a strong hatred inside for his mother and was taking it out on the naked woman before him. With an insight few women would have had, she called out, “Marvin! Stop that this instant! You’re a bad boy!”
The blows became harder and faster. A lot of anger was flowing out of that little man, and it was her ass that took the brunt of it. Which was not a bad thing for Jeannie. A real whipping, which this had become, was an aphrodisiac for her. The heat between her legs grew wonderfully. It was not a case of pain turning into pleasure. The pain was real and hurt her terribly. But the pleasure came with it, not replacing it. So she cried, and felt good, and the heat grew between her legs. Through the pain she hoped he would continue until she reached an orgasm. It would help if he were to really take her. A prick, even a small one as she suspected he had, would help her reach an orgasm. Hell, most anything shoved inside her would help. And she had to reach that orgasm!
The arm was growing tired, the blow delivered with less force. Jeannie had to do something or the whole performance would be wasted. She quickly turned over to present those wonderful breasts to him. She spread her legs wide. Then she said, in a loud voice, “Marvin, don’t you dare whip my breasts! You’re a very bad boy!”
What else could Marvin do? With renewed vigor, he attacked those magnificent globes. Jeannie cried loudly when the blows began landing on her breasts, for that really, really hurt her. So vicious was his attack that she felt herself rushing rapidly into a very nice orgasm. She cried out from the pure pleasure of it, clamped her legs together, and tried to curl up into a ball. Jeannie was one of those lucky women who really felt orgasms intensely. She saw flashing lights and felt as if her body were on fire.
Marvin, panting heavily, stopped to stare. He had never seen a woman react to an orgasm with such force and intensity. The few women he had known showed nothing like this when they came. There were times he wondered if they had really had an orgasm. If this was how women should reaction, then maybe all those others had not.
He dropped the whip and sat on the bed. Jeannie was slowly uncurling from her ball. Gently he reached out and touched the red marks on her breasts as if amazed that he had put them there.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked when Jeannie finally opened her eyes.
“Yes, you did, very much,” she told him honestly. “And I enjoyed it. You gave me a very nice orgasm.”
“I did? I thought that a woman could have that only when a man was inside her.”
“Not true. There are other ways. Pain is one of them. For some women,” she added. “I’m one of them.”
She sat up on the bed next to him. When he reached for her tied hands to remove the ropes, she pulled them away from him. “Not now. I have something I have to tell you.”
He looked puzzled.
“You gave me an orgasm. By the rules, I now have to grant you one wish.”
Chapter III
First Wish
“I will explain,” she said as she settled back against the headboard of the bed. She did not ask him to untie her hands, nor did he offer to. Sitting there on a very sore bottom and totally naked, she told him a hard-to-believe story.
“My original name was Jena. But I took the name Jeannie because that is what I am, a genie. You know, as in Aladdin and the Lamp and all that. When you give me an orgasm, I will grant you a wish. Up to three times.”
“No! Any wish?” he asked in a disbelieving voice. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“I am serious. There are, however, certain limitations to your wish. Basically, I can make physical things happen but not anything that has to do with people. For example, if you wish for a ton of gold, that I can give you. If you wish for a certain woman to fall madly in love with you, no can do. I can’t make you king of the world, give you extraordinary powers, or make you more intelligent than you are. But I can give you most anything physical that you want.”
She shifted her bottom on the bed and grimaced. “You did a number on my poor bottom. Oh, that reminds me, you should know that the only way I can achieve an orgasm is if you make me suffer. I have to be in pain in order for my body to respond properly.”
“I have heard there are women like that,” he offered. “Never found one, though.”
“While I am your genie, you may do anything to me that you wish. Truth is, I am used to being kept a prisoner by my Master; tied up, chained up, and all stuff. Most men are afraid I might leave before they get all their wishes. If you wish to abuse me, that is your privilege. Just be careful. If you make me have an orgasm, you will get your next wish. So if you wish not to waste them too rapidly, then keep me from having an orgasm until you’re ready for the next wish.” She smiled at him, “And it is only fair to tell you that I am a very horny, constantly turned on girl, and it doesn’t take much to make me cum.”
“This is all more than a little unbelievable. You sure you’re not just putting me on?”
“I am telling you the absolute truth,” she said. “You can confirm it simply enough. Just ask for a wish. You have your first coming.”
Marvin did not speak for quite a while. To say that this was rather unexpected was an understatement. His accountant mind was thinking furiously. And greedily, it might be added. Finally he made his decision.
“Is here any special way I have to ask for the wish?”
“Just say, ‘Jeannie, I wish for…’ And fill in the blank.”
“Okay. Jeannie, I wish for one… No, wait. Jeannie, I wish for two tons of 99.999 percent pure gold in the form of Krugerrand coins.”
Jeannie smiled. That was the first thing many men wished for, usually in bars but sometimes coins. “Your wish is my command,” she said. She resisted the urge to shut her eyes and nod her head like that woman on television.
There was a popping sound, followed immediately by a groaning from the floor. Two tons, four thousand pounds, of gold coins had appeared in the center of his bedroom. The sixty-four thousand coins were piled up to the ceiling. Some of the top ones were already falling off, making delightful tinkling sounds. The weight was far more than apartment floors were designed to take. It creaked and threatened to collapse, which would have sent his fortune crashing down into the bedroom below.
“God damn!” Marvin whispered, his eyes wide.
Jeannie smiled. “You might consider moving some of that to the front room,” she advised. “The weight could break your floor.”
“Oh, yeah. Move it. Right.”
Looking around, he dashed to the bathroom and returned with a laundry basket. Carefully he crept up on the stacks of coins to begin shoving them into the basket. His first load almost ripped out the bottom, so he made subsequent loads smaller. It took him many trips to diminish the pile noticeably.
Finally he stood there, panting from the effort but seeming to be enjoying the labor. A pile was growing in the front room. Looking at the naked woman laying on his bed, he suddenly remembered there was other unfinished business. He seemed to be at a loss as to what to do next.
Jeannie might have helped him with more advice, but she decided to see if he could figure out what to do by himself. She could tell what was going through his mind. Her comment about making sure that she would not leave before he got all his wishes was in his mind along with a lot of greed. He was not a stupid man. He could plan ahead better than most. Logic told him that the few pieces of rope he had would hardly suffice if he were going to keep Jeannie a real prisoner. He was of a calculating mind, being an accountant, and did not intend to rush into making wishes too fast. So it was logical that he might have to keep her for a prisoner for a while, a most interesting idea by itself, but which meant that he needed more restraints that a few pieces of rope.
What would he need? he asked himself. Handcuffs? Sure. Some chain and locks might be good too. Maybe even some more rope. He liked how she looked tied with rope. Hell, she would look good tied with pink ribbons. Or shoe laces. Whatever.
Now where would he get handcuffs? Leaving Jeannie sitting on his bed, he made for the phone book in the front room. Handcuffs were not listed under that name. Nor under restraints. Where do police buy theirs? Then he remembered hearing one time that police got uniforms and such from a specialist store. What was that called? Oh, yes, uniform supply. There were several such stores listed. He wrote down the addresses. They should have handcuffs. Chains and locks he could get at most any hardware store.
Which meant he had shopping to do. But what to do with Jeannie? Take her with him? That would be like carrying around the goose that laid the golden eggs. The sight of all that gold was appealing to the greed in him. He simply could not take a chance of this girl getting away. So he had to make sure she was restrained in his apartment.
Back in the bedroom, Jeannie was waiting patiently for him to come to the conclusion that he would have to tie her well enough so that she could not get free while he was out buying things.
He stood there, possible ways to tying her running through his mind. Dim memories of games played as a child did not provide much help. Those had been games, not serious attempts to hold someone a prisoner. Scenes of women tied up on television just did not seem right. Those methods had always seemed pathetic to him, too often the women looked as if they could throw the ropes off without any help.
Then he remembered having heard of some special websites on the Internet. Rushing to his computer, he powered up and began searching. It did not take long before he found numerous photos of bondage. He studied them carefully. When he returned to the bedroom, he was grinning. This was going to be fun.
He grabbed her ankles and turned her over onto her stomach. Then he used rope to bind her ankles together. Only when he was sure she would not jump up and run away, did he untie her wrists from the crossed position. He retied them with the palms facing each other. Then he used the third piece of rope to bind her elbows together. He was surprised to find how easily her elbows came together behind her when he wrapped the rope around her arms just above the elbows and then cinched that rope down tightly. The knots he also made as tight as he could.
He stepped back and liked what he saw. The ropes were all very tightly applied. He could see no way that she could possibly work free. Now he needed only one additional element to turn this into the hogtie he had seen and wished to recreate. But he was out of rope.
Reluctantly he partly untied her ankles, then cinched the ropes down again and knotted them with three feet or so left over. That rope he passed between her forearms and back to her ankles. When he pulled, her legs bend back and the hogtie began to take shape. He pulled some more. Her body was nicely arched. He pulled some more and was rewarded with the arch becoming much more pronounced. As her ankles came near her bound hands, she spread her fingers and allowed the palms of her hands to come up against the back of her ankles. He doubled the rope over a few time, cinched it down and then knotted it several times where he was sure her fingers could not reach.
Now when he stood back, the picture was even better than what he had seen on the Internet. Her body was bent into a bow shape and looked as if the strain was hurting her. He felt a bulge in his pants growing. She was beautiful! Those wonderful breasts sticking out, the muscles of her legs all tense, and the discomfort on her face were beautiful to him.
“I’ve got to go out now,” he announced. “Have to buy some things. Will you be okay here?”
“I’ve been tied worse,” she told him.
He was not sure what that bondage would have been. Maybe he would ask her later.
“Will I have to gag you?” The idea suddenly occurred to him that she could holler for help and maybe someone would respond. The idea of the police coming in and finding all that gold and a naked, tied up woman sent a shiver down his spine.
“I won’t make any noise. I promise.”
Marvin was unsure about that. Yet he was also unsure how to go about gagging her. He did not have any of those rubber balls they showed in the photos. Just putting a piece of cloth through the mouth had never impressed him as a real gag. Maybe a piece of tape? He dug out the duct tape he had found in the kitchen drawer when he moved in. Pulling off a length, he cut it with his pocket knife and plastered it over her mouth.
He pocked the knife, not wanting to leave it in the bedroom, and turned to leave. A few seconds later he was called back.
“Marvin,” Jeannie said clearly. “A piece of tape doesn’t do it.”
He turned around and saw that she had pushed the tape half off, probably with her tongue.
“I promise I won’t call for help,” she repeated.
He left without saying anything.
When she heard the door closing, she sighed. She had not been lying when she told him that she had been in worse bondage than this surprisingly good hogtie – quite good for a beginner, actually. Still this hogtie was very tight and not all that comfortable. If he did not return for a long time, she would be more than just uncomfortable.
She wiggled and pulled on her arms to test the ropes. As she expected, they were too tight to allow movement. She knew from experience that she would be able to roll onto her side, maybe be able to roll back onto her stomach after that. But doing that would gain her nothing. She could roll around all she wanted but would be no closer to escaping than at the start. She could even roll enough to fall off the bed, but that would only exchange a soft surface for a less soft carpet.
She settled down to a long wait.
Chapter IV
Careful Not to Satisfy Too Much
Had Jeannie been able to see the clock, she would have known that it was exactly three hours, thirty-six minutes and a few seconds before the apartment door opened. She would not have cared about the exact time anyway. To her the duration was measured in suffering and immobility, not minutes. Her shoulders ached, her elbows and wrists were sore.
Marvin dumped a couple packages on the floor. He went to the side of the bed to examine his captive, checking her hands, feeling her feet. Both were a shade darker than normal and cool but not cold. Circulation was impeded but not cut off. He noted that the ropes were exactly as he had left them and was proud that he had done so well in his first serious bondage attempt.
As he lay out two pairs of Smith and Wesson professional handcuffs, thirty feet of chain, and four padlocks, he told her, “As I was paying for these handcuffs, a terrible thought occurred to me. I believe you that you are a genie. But if you have magical powers, why didn’t you just make the ropes fall off?”
With tired eyes she looked up at him. “It isn’t allowed in the rules.”
“What rules?”
She sighed and explained. “I am bound (excuse the pun) by rules. I cannot use magic to help myself in any way. In all ways I am simply a woman, the same as most others. I can use magic only to grant your wishes.”
“Who makes these rules?” he asked.
“That would be a long story. It doesn’t matter anyway. You’ve heard most of the rules. There are a few others. I cannot do anything that would harm a person. I cannot change people’s emotions. Oh, yes, and I cannot lie to my Master.”
Marvin studied her face. There was pain reflected there, but he could see not evasion or dishonesty. He believed her.
“You can be hurt, I can see that. Can you be killed?”
She looked up as if wondering why he asked. “No. I cannot. But why would you want to?’
“Oh, I don’t. Just wondering.”
He left her in the hogtie while he rearranged his apartment. More coins were moved to other rooms, until, after an hour, the pile left in his bedroom was pushed against the far wall. Then he screwed a bolt with a ring into the door frame of the bathroom, as tightly in as he could and tested it by pulled on it with all his might. It did not move.
He took the end of the chain and locked it to the ring with one of the padlocks. The other end he took over to Jeannie and locked it around her neck, making sure that there was absolutely no way she could pull her head out of the loop. With his captive secured to the wall, he began removing the ropes. She moaned as her arms came free, and began softly crying as the returned circulation pins and needled her hands strongly.
He was amazed to see how deep were the red pressure marks on her arms and ankles from the tight ropes. He had not realized how tightly he had bound her. Still, he was proud of doing a good job. She had looked so damn beautiful lying there all helpless.
As he locked her wrists together in front of her, he paused to squeeze one breast. He remembered that the earlier whipping of her ass had been satisfying to him in one way; it was something he had longed to do for as long as she could remember. No, longing was not the right word. Compelled was closer. But he always had to push such evil thoughts down. The whipping of a woman for the first time had been incredible! But it had not been sexually satisfying. He had not screwed this gorgeous body. The urge had been there but overridden by a stronger need. Now that need had been satisfied, at least for the moment, and he would think of other things. He could not believe how smooth her skin, and how firm those breasts were. He wanted to run his hands all over that lovely body, and then do much more to it.
Yet he did nothing beyond touching her tits right then. The future was bright for him. Untold wealth was his. Who knew what else he could have? And this beautiful woman was his captive, his to do with whatever he wished. It was every man’s fantasy come true. The fucking of that body would wait, he decided, until later. He would screw this great body, ravish her as he longed to. But he would do it when he had her tightly bound with ropes. He had been very impressed at the way she looked in that hogtie, and the idea of having sex while she was tied was just too much to ignore.
Deciding how he would tie her for the fucking would be an interesting mental exercise itself. Possibilities were teasing his mind. Maybe he would look again on the Internet. There was so much fascinating material there.
The other pair of handcuffs was locked on her ankles. She could stand and even walk if she took tiny steps. She could do things with her hands in front of her. But there was no way she could get those handcuffs and chain off her. The chain would allow her access to the bathroom and the bed, but all else was out of range. She was as much a prisoner as she had been when hogtied.
Marvin, grinning from ear to ear, went back to his computer to check on the current spot price for gold. Then he began stacking the coins in his front room in piles he estimated were fifty thousand dollars each. Jeannie stretched out on the bed and took a nap. Being chained up was only a minor inconvenience to her. She had been in much, much worse captivity.
Later, when he had tired of counting his wealth, he returned to the bedroom to look on his prize captive. She was beautiful in sleep, just as she had been while suffering the tight hogtie. He longed to touch that body, to possess it totally. He did not know it, but dangerous thoughts were infiltrating his mind, thoughts of possessing this woman forever.
It was later that night when Marvin realized that he was hungry. Checking in on Jeannie, he found her still sleeping. Not being much of a cook, he called out for pizza, ordering extra portions of meat on it, being a wealthy man now. He added an expensive beer. Why not? When the delivery boy came to his door, he wondered what the young man would think if he knew that a few feet away was a lovely, naked woman chained to his bed?
He woke her for dinner and shared it with her, both sitting on the bed. She ate in silence, casually ignoring the handicap of the handcuffs and her nudity. She well knew what would happen after dinner. But would it result in his second wish? She did not care much for the beer, never had, but it was something to drink with the pizza.
After the meal was finished, Marvin disappeared into the front room for a while. When he came back she could see by the look on his face that the late night entertainment was about to begin.
He took off the handcuffs from both wrists and ankles. Then he laid out the three lengths of rope, opened two more packages of rope, and added those pieces to the pile. He had enough rope now for most any kind of bondage a man could want to put a girl into.
He bound her wrists behind her again and added ropes around her elbows. He loved the way that made her breasts stick out. It was almost as if they were begging for attention. As she stood there, arms tightly bound behind her and the chain around her neck, he was tempted to just throw her on the bed and take her. But he wanted something more.
Ordering her to lay on the bed on her stomach, he doubled one leg up until her heel was almost touching her butt. Then he tied the leg doubled that way with wrappings around the ankle and upper thigh. The other joined it. When he pulled her up, she could kneel on those bound legs but do little else. At his orders, she spread her knees as wide as she could. He loved the way her pubic mount peek out from between her thighs.
He ordered her to turn around in a circle. She obeyed, slowly crabbing around by lifting one leg then the other. When she was back in the original position, he ordered her to get on her back. She fell to one side, and then struggled to roll over so she was lying on her bound arms. Between those large breasts projecting upward and those spread legs revealing the treasure hidden within, he could take no more.
As Jeannie turned her circle and struggled to position herself as ordered, Marvin was feeling his hard erection pushing to get out of his pants. As she lay there, open legs an invitation no man could resist, he hurried out of his clothes and climbed onto the bed.