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The Trophy Wife

Prologue

Prologue

	I'm not a bad guy, really. She deserved everything that she got from me. But by the end of
reading this story you may have formed another opinion.

	It all started when I was driving down the highway, home to my country farm house minding my
own business, for a change. The scanner that I used in my business was lying on the passenger
seat of the mobile home that I had rented for my latest job, a surveillance job; you know the
kind typical jealous husband case. Poor boy thought his wife was fooling around on him. She was
of course, they always are. By the time the guy suspects it is always too late. But they pay me
anyway, it's a living, and quite a good one too. My business was thriving. I hardly worked at
all anymore. Only those cases that interested me. Like this wife case, what a looker. No wonder
she was cheating on her husband. Hot bitch like that could never stay faithful. Not with all the
temptations that would befall a beautiful woman like her. Think about it. If you looked like
that then everyone would want to get in your pants. If everyone would want to get in her pants
then everyone would try. Sooner or later she would give into temptation. The law of averages.

	Anyway, where was I. My scanner that I had turned off was suddenly crackling to life. Guess I
hadn't turned it off after all. I hardly paid attention to the cellular conversation, between a
man and a woman. The usual lovey dovey stuff you hear all the time. Their conversation soon took
an interesting turn when the man said "I wish that old fucker would just up ad die on you so we
could be together forever."

The woman paused briefly then responded in a serious tone of voice. "You never know what may
happen darling, he does after all have a very serious heart problem. His doctor's tell him that
even a little excitement could kill him."

	Just as this little bitch finished her sentence I passed through a highway underpass, his
response was cut off. By he time I emerged all I could hear was her laughter in response. Even
her laughter was practiced and calculating.  She eventually caught her breath responding through
gasps "No to do it that way I'd actually have to start fucking him again."

	I had managed to fumble a bit with the tape recorder but I managed to get most of their
conversation on tape I maneuvered the lumbering mobile home to the shoulder at the next traffic
light. As I rolled to a stop her voice cut out on the conversation I could still hear his though
meaning a building or an underpass was blocking her. She came back on line strong a clear
Checking my mirrors I could hardly believe my eyes. It had to be her racing up to the same red
light that I was at.

	Her driving a convertible made it remarkably easy to check her out. She was a wet dream on
legs. She had lots and lots of long red curly hair that stopped at her shoulder blades. She was
tall and thin. Though it was impossible to tell just how tall due to her sitting in the car. She
sat upright in her seat, her good posture displaying her chest proudly. She had a great deal to
be proud of. They had to be fake. Everything else about her was. Her incredible body was
wrapped, tightly in a light green dress that was so short I found myself staring at her hemline
desperately trying to will it higher by only a half inch or so. That would be enough.

	My staring had by this time become noticed. 

	"Darling, I'll see you in 5 minutes. I'm looking forward to testing your ticker. I do so hope
you'll survive." She finished her joke with a pout directed to my gaze. He laughed and they hung
up.

	Still glaring at me she criticized, "It's not polite to stare, Mister."

Being impolite I stared back ignoring her, as she shot me a disgusted look and sped off, to her
illicit liaison with her lover. Whoever he was he was a lucky man.

	Instinctively, I glanced at her plate, it read POTTER 3.  The realization hit me as hard as I
had hit the gas pedal. This woman was the wife of Richard Potter. Christ he was practically in a
wheelchair he was so decrepit.  Being his third wife I chuckled in speculation as to whether the
plate referred to the third car in his fleet or her as his third and latest trophy wife. If she
and her asshole boyfriend had their way, then she would most definitely be Richard Potter's
final wife. His holdings were in the hundreds of millions of dollars. Being a successful real
estate developer. 

	It was of course impossible to keep up with her Mercedes ragtop. But I tried none the less. Way
up in the distance I thought I saw the distinctive taillights of her car take the next exit.
That exit was about ten miles past my farmhouse. I proceeded to the exit and pulled over to the
curb. Leaving the RV parked by the side of the highway. From here on out I would proceed on
foot. It took me a little over an hour of walking thought the satellite community to find her
car.

When I did I barely had the time to jot down the address of the property that she had parked in
front of before she reemerged, her heels dangling from her left hand.

	They embraced passionately one more time as she scampered back to the car. Just before she
started the car he called out. "Told you I'd survive!" She smiled back a wry smile, then
replied. "Let's hope my performance has a greater impact on my husband." Another conspiratorial
look passed between them and she was off.

	I waited still a few minutes till she was out of sight, and he had gone back into the house,
before I began to make my way down from the hills to the RV I had left. As I walked slowly back
I began to formulate a plan. A plan that would satisfy everyone involved. I could save a life.
Punish a murderous pair. And most delightfully of all provide myself with a play partner of
uncommon provocativeness. After all if she was willing to be the trophy wife on one man for mer
money. They I should surely be able to to keep her interested in me, to keep her ass out of
jail. Or more precisely out of a formal jail and in my own private jail.

	I of course had to decide, if the prospect of getting caught was worth the reward of possessing
her all to myself. As I pulled the RV into the farmyard, I had decided that if I could come up
with a plan that was feasible it would be worth the risk.

	I had some natural advantages that would make the caper easier. Firstly, the location of my
home. It was remote and the nearest neighbor was nearly 5 miles distant. Secondly, the property
was large nearly 8 acres in size. Clearly large enough that I could build a suitable facility to
house her for a long long time. Most others who had attempted similar imprisonment's had grossly
underestimated the amount of space it takes to properly care for such a prisoner. I would not
make that mistake. Thirdly, I was wealthy enough and my business was well enough established
that I could take considerable time away from it and it would not suffer the least. This facet
was essential. Fourthly, there was no connection between her and myself whatsoever that could be
traced. Most often the authorities look for some connection between the perpetrator and the
victim to solve the crime. That is in part what makes serial killers so difficult to track. In
this case there would be none, save our interlude at the stoplight, and perhaps some tire and
footprint evidence near her lovers house. I judged these to be insignificant.

	There were few disadvantages that I could see. But one was significant. They were planning on
killing Mr. Potter. And it seemed that they were planing it soon. I had to come up with a plan
and implement it quickly, ideally within a week. A near impossibility. A second disadvantage was
of course her nature. She was tall and very strong willed. Breaking her would be challenging.
But I reasoned that this would make the conquest that much more sweet & satisfying.

	I decided that preparing a future home for her would be less of a problem than actually
capturing her. I spent a sleepless night formulating, analyzing, and ultimately rejecting plans.

Then just before dawn it hit me like a bolt of lightning. The plan that was so good it must
succeed.


Planning & Execution

	I began by making phone calls feverishly. And by cutting some checks. Big ones for some
excavating around the property, and its various structures. There was a barn that I used to
store my various vehicles. The main farm house, a massive structure really. Turn of the century
home, with a shallow cellar with stone walls that extended up to form the walls of the first of
the three floors of the house. There were a pair of mobile homes on the back portion of the
property.

One of which was passed its prime. The other one was the nicest a mobile home can get.

	Near the barn I had the excavators cut a huge pit in the ground 15 feet deep, 35 feet long and
20 feet wide. I explained that I was putting in a pool. Adjacent to the farmhouse I had them
carve a trench that was 40 feet wide and over 100 feet long. The contractors naturally assumed
that I was building an addition to the farmhouse. Which of course I was.

	The next day after they left I cut a doorway into the basement of the farmhouse that opened
into the trench. The wall that I cut through was slightly over a foot thick of solid stone.
Extremely soundproof from the basement of the house.

	I leased a tow truck and dragged the decent mobile home into the trench and used the dozer
blade mounted on the front of the tow truck and a small bobcat tractor to back fill over the
mobile home. Completely entombing it beneath the earth. From the house basement I roughed in a
door making it look like a closet. However, the back of the closet opened up into the mobile
home. Which I then setup to renovating for its eventual guest. The renovation of the mobile home
took me 3 more days to arrange.

	Renting vehicles for surveillance was nothing new in my business. So of course it did not raise
any concerns. In addition to the tow truck and the RV, I also rented a Mercedes just like hers,
to experiment on.

Which I then promptly returned after my plan had been fully developed.  All this took 4 days.

	During the nights I learned her habits. She was quite a creature of habit visiting her lover on
each night that I watched her. I used a different vehicle to surveil her on each night. She
first stopped at her fitness club. Ostensibly to workout, but in fact it was a brief stop to
change clothes, into something far sluttier. This night she changed into a strapless black
dress, that was being seriously challenged by gravity & her breasts. It took her a solid
half-hour to change into her slutwear and another 45 minutes to reach his house. Which she
stayed at for an hour. Her fitness club was open 24 hours a day and she used it again on her way
back reversing her steps back into the arms of her unsuspecting husband.

	On the weekend she did some clothes shopping and had lunch with a friend of hers, who was
likely living the life of a trophy wife. They parted with a kiss, which was surprisingly
passionate. I jotted down the plate of the girlfriend. I would run it later. Who knows it might
prove to be interesting.

	I had decided to grab her this Monday before she got her chance to fuck the boyfriend. She
parked at the fitness club and rushed into the building to change. I to began to rush. I figured
that I had 30 minutes. But I wanted to be done in 20 minutes. In case she was horny and wanted
to hurry to her lover's arms.  Looking around no one noticed me as a scooted under the car with
a wrench and an oil catch tray.  I had rehearsed the moved before and soon I had removed the
drain plug from her radiator and collected all the fluid. It took me only 10 minutes, and I did
not jostle the car enough to set of the alarm. While I worked it pleased me to realize that she
was preparing herself for me instead of her lover this night.

	I knew from my experiments that, she would soon be on the side of the highway disabled and
helpless. It began to rain and got distinctly colder while she was changing. She must have been
told this as she came out of the club. She had not yet fixed her hair. But she was all dressed
up as usual. This time in a pink dress and matching heels that hobbled her as she ran to the
convertible, and began to struggle to raise the roof back onto the car. She wore no hose on her
legs; whether she had underwear on I could not tell but then realized that I would soon find out
for first hand.

	She hurriedly fixed her makeup, and finished her hair as her car warmed up in the parking lot.
She waited a few more minutes and moved out back onto the highway. 

I maneuvered out of the lot and followed her, after I had given her a 5-minute head start. Sure
enough, just as I had planned I found her pulled over to the side of the road.  She was sitting
in her car, trapped by the breakdown and the driving rain. I pulled the tow truck off to the
side right in front of her car. Snapped on the lights and slowly walked back to her car.

	Her power windows had been disable due to the vehicle overheating and seizing up on her. She
cracked the door open.

	"Need help miss?" I offered.

	"Yes I do! I don't know what it could be this is a very good car."

I studied the car up and down.  "I usually drive American myself."  She gave me the kind of look
that I expected.  "Pop the hood, I'll have a look for you."

	She did not respond, but I heard the hood pop.

	I fooled around under the hood for a few minutes, while she preened checking herself with the
car mirror.  I coaxed her out of the car and into the rain. To show her what I had found. "It's
very simple really. Your radiator has no fluid in it. See down there." I pointed. "There is no
drain plug there anymore. It must've shaken itself out."

	"That's just great." She exclaimed while stamping about in the rain. " I have an important
meeting to get to tonight."

	"Not in this car you don't" I interrupted.

Her voice was taking on a distinctly whiney tone. "What am I supposed to do now?" She then gave
me her 'help poor me routine' that she undoubtedly used to get out of countless tickets, and
many free gifts from her husband.

	I rubbed my chin and thought for a moment. "Well I 'm on my way home. I could tow you to my
garage just down the road. And you could them make arrangements from there." Her face brightened
a little at the suggestion. Then I hit her with the kicker. "You may be able to make your
meeting, still."

	That did it. The prospect of making it to her fuck festival overcame the usual doubts.

"Go ahead and wait in the truck while I hook up your car." Before I had finished the sentence
she had run off to the cab of the truck. Leaving me in the rain to finish.

	I attached the chains from the truck to the front of her car and began winching it up the
slanted deck of the flatdeck pickup truck. Soon I had he car secured to the truck. As I was
chaining up the car I looked into the truck cab. And thought to myself that I would soon be
repeating the chaining up on her.

After tightening up the chains securing her car I jumped back into the cab to find her bending
down trying to clean off the mud from her shoes.  After I had settled in she sat up. I found
myself staring at her boobs. Her nipples had become quite visible through the wet clinging
fabric of her dress.  She covered herself with her hands. "Do you mind." She snapped. I mumbled
an apology. Then poured myself a coffee from the thermos I kept there. I was just about to drink
it. When she snapped. "Aren't you going to offer me some."

I mumbled yet another apology and handed the shivering woman my cup, and the thermos.

	While she drank I put the truck into gear, and was about to move out when I stared at her
again. "Buckle your seat belt for safety." She finished the coffee, handing it back to me and
buckled up. The seat belt clicked with a snap. This snap brought about a huge, ear to ear grin
from me. And I began to laugh softly as we moved back to the highway.

	She shot me a quizzical glance but did not ask what I thought was so funny. Had she asked I'm
sure that I would have been to overcome with delight to answer her properly. That the whole
episode of capturing her was soooo easy. We had been driving for about 5 minutes. She took in a
deep breath cleared her throat and asked. "What is the name of the garage that you are taking me
to?" And continued reaching into her purse. "I want to call my husband to pick me up." As she
finished mumbling out the sentence, she was retrieving her cell phone from her purse. The phone
was glowing in the cab of the truck, and flashing indicating that she had already hit some sort
of speed dialer feature on her phone.

	Panicked I, stood on the brake pedal with all my strength. The tires of the truck screamed
nearly as loudly as she did. Capitalizing on her confusion I slapped the phone from her hand. It
bounced around the floor of the truck. I quickly retrieved it and switched it off before the
person she was dialing picked up the line. Staring at her I savored her confusion. It was a
simple matter to pop the case off the phone and remove the battery from the phone. The
twenty-hour days I had put in during the last week had likely caused my failure to remember the
cell phone. I tossed my near fatal mistake back to the floor of the truck. Her lovely
disbelieving green eyes followed the phone to the floor. By the time she turned her face back to
mine. I noticed that her eyes had been dulled ever so slightly from the Rohipnol that was in the
coffee. Had she not had the phone, and pressed the mater she would have been out cold by the
time we reached the farmhouse.

	The entire episode was so fabulously delightful I could easily acquire all her movements. Her
pink encased lips formed an O as she let out a scream that I'm sure could be heard for miles.
Her hands immediately flew to the door handle. Frantically pulling on it. Vainly of course as I
had taken the precaution of disabling it days before. She was bouncing around in the seat, her
pleasant curves straining nearly as hard as she was to escape. Some of her long, perfectly
manicured nails snapped off cleanly as she next tried the seatbelt. But alas, that to was
disabled by myself also, and remained locked tightly closed around her body.

	I expected her to come to her senses when she realized that escape was impossible. But she
surprised me completely. Despite my surprise, her attack on me was easy to deflect. I am a very
big man. I shoved my right forearm under her chin, and leaned into her with all my weight. Her
upper body was forced back to her side of the truck. Her screams stopped abruptly. Replaced with
gurgles. Her eyes closed tightly, squeezing out tears, which flowed down her cheeks. Her attack
ended as her arms clutched at my forearm. Futilely trying to relieve the pressure on her throat.

Her magnificent body forced back as it was being pressed upon my own. Providing a tantalizing
taste of the delights that were in my future. Using my free left arm I took a moment to explore
my new captive. Her dress had ridden up during her struggles. My hand traced down her body
feeling the fineness of the material. Then downward till I began encountering her skin. Then
downward still further, past her belly to the promise of her hair. Of course I stopped just
before reaching it. As she had managed to realize the futility of her position. Her struggles
eased eyes now open. She managed to croak out past my crushing forearm a single work that
"Please" she begged. Very softly and full of hope. For pleading was all she had left. Her pink
lips trembled. I pressed my lips to hers in a crushing kiss. My left hand meanwhile, I had
balled up into a fist, that I pressed home into her unprotected belly, twice, and then a third
time. No way to treat a lady, I know. My plan was not quite perfect, this time.

	I pulled off her body back to my side. She doubled over retching into her thighs. Her arms
coiled tightly around her body. Grabbing her left wrist I straightened out her arm. There was no
fight left in her. All that passed her lips was some grunting noises and some saliva as I
fastened 2 pairs of handcuff on her. Leaning down to her ankles I secured them with some large
quick ties. They made a confident zipping sound as I fastened them around her knees also. This
was a precaution really, as we both knew that she was going nowhere.

	Soon the Rohipnol worked its magic and doused her consciousness completely. Her body swayed and
bounced limply with the bumps in the road, as we traveled. She continued to moan sweetly. I
considered gagging her as a further precaution. But quickly dismissed it. I was enjoying the
sounds she was making as I drove. Besides I figured I had a good 12 hours before she was going
to be any trouble. And by then I expected to have her completely subdued, for good.


Her New Life Begins

	I arrived at the farmhouse uneventfully, and drove the truck and her car straight into the
barn. Closing the doors behind us, I allowed myself the first of many celebratory "touchdown
dances", accompanied with several whoops of excitement. Retrieving a knife I cut the seat belt
and fireman carried her to the house. Then down into the basement and into the subterranean
mobile home I had so carefully prepared for her. I secured her in a corner of the bedroom
section with a heavy iron collar.

	I was jealous of the sleep she was trapped within, but quickly ran back to the barn. I started
up the truck and drove it across the yard. Backing it up carefully to the future site of my
"pool". The Mercedes slid down into the pit with a loud crash that carried for miles in the
chill night air. Anyone that heard it would have thought it an accident. I tossed the cell phone
and the battery into the pit, and set about using the dozer blade on the front of the pickup
truck to bury the car. What a waste, that hurt. It took me only a few hours to backfill in the
pit.

Soon I the next few days a landscaper would arrive to reshape the area and plant some sod. My
pool would be changed into a concrete pad and a proper garage, for my cars. To be fashioned by a
separate contractor.

I collected her purse and her high heels and went back to check on her. She was still out like a
light. I slapped her face a few times to be certain. She failed to respond. I took the
opportunity to shower and catch some shut-eye. I fitted her with a bell, just like the pretty
kitty that she is. I slept soundly and well.

	I awoke to find her exactly as I had left her, chained in a corner. I watched her for a while
then made some final preparations.  Soon she awoke to her surroundings; a normal room with a
large bed and a heavy steel door in one wall. I watched her eyes follow the chain that led from
the collar around her neck to a recessed block buried in the floor beneath a rail that ran off
directly opposite the bed into the wall where a heavy curtain lay against the wall leading into
another room. That way she could stand and walk from room to room. All the while remaining
securely chained.

	She turned her face back to mine. I was sitting on the bed. Our eyes met, and I tried my first
command.

"On your feet, NOW" I shouted. She was quick to comply, as quick as her unsure legs could raise
her. She was tall nearly 5'10". Her hands were clutching at her collar as though she could
remove it with her explorations. She was shaking with fear. The moment was nearly as I imagined
it. It was worthy of a speech, which I had thoughtfully prepared.

	"Listen Carefully" I began. "It must be clear by now that I have gone to a great deal of
preparation to own you. And that is what I do now. I own you. I own you as completely as I own
my own body, my own feet. A book, my car, or this house." I paused to let my little speech sink
in. "Do you understand?" She mouthed the word 'yes' but it came out as a whisper. She nodded her
head to reinforce her whispered word. She had retreated into the corner of the room pressing her
body firmly into the walls.

"Good" I responded. "Pickup your shoes and put them on." She bent over demurely trying to hide
her body from me as she did so, placing her shoes back on her feet smoothly. She stood up again.
Before she had a chance to try and cover herself with her hands. I instructed her to keep them
at her sides. "Walk over to me, slowly." She began, and I spoke further instructions. "You will
not speak, or move unless I grant permission. You will follow all orders, quickly accurately,
and with a smile on you face. Is that clear?" She nodded her understanding, without speaking.

	By this time she was close enough for me to reach out and grab, which I did around her left
thigh, pulling her close to me. She was trembling in fear. I ran my face across her dress
covering her flat stomach. The warmth coming off her body was intense; I squeezed the flesh of
her leg. It was surprisingly soft and pliant. Her figure was sumptuous, matching her texture.
These first few touches were wonderful, as was her reaction. She was standing rigid, desperately
trying to maintain her composure. I pushed her away; she traveled about six feet.  "I see how
well you are obeying, and that pleases me greatly. The collar you are wearing, I hope someday to
remove it. However, while it is on I want you to notice this." I picked up a small polished
wooden box. It had a switch on top & a cable running from it to the wall. I advanced the switch
to the first position.  She gave a small cry as she felt the electricity began to flow through
the collar and her body. I switched it off. Having got her attention I continued. "You see you
must always obey! Or you will feel intense pain." I saw the understanding sink in and she nodded
and sniffled again.

"Dance for me." She looked back confused; I merely nodded and gestured for her to begin. Her
body began to sway back and forth to some unheard music that was running through her head. She
was eyeing mere nervously while she swayed no doubt assessing me and my motives, and intentions.
"Take your clothes off." She of course hesitated slightly before she bent her arms up behind her
back, and unzipped the dress. She shrugged the dress off her shoulders. Its downward fall was
stopped by her large breasts, which stretched the material tight across her form. She stretched
the material peeling it of her body, like the second skin that it was. She wore no bra, not
needing one. Nor did she wear panties, a pleasant surprise. Her long legs stepped free of the
dress and she clutched it tightly to her body, as thought it could offer some protection from
me. The dance was completely forgotten by now. "You can drop the dress now. After all, you won't
be wearing clothes much from now on, so you don't have to worry about keeping them nice." I
watched her hands release the dress one finger at a time until there was only one finger holding
it in front of her. I was on the verge of ordering her to hurry up, but I managed to stop
myself. The longer she took the greater her torture would be, as well as my pleasure. At last
her dress fell crumpled around her heels, which shifted back and forth nervously.  I got the
first look at her body. Long, long shapely legs, reaching her widely flared hips, which then
tapered back to a trim waist. An exaggerated hourglass figure, topped off by a flawless face
adorned with wide full lips and bright expressive eyes surrounded by her lovely red curls. "I
usually go for blondes. But with a body like yours, I'm prepared to make an exception." She
wisely did not respond. I held out my hand toward her. "Come to me." She began her walk across
the room to me her heels clicking on the floor with each step. Her chain dragged behind her
scraping along like a wedding train. When she was close enough to my out stretched hand I
grabbed her, and pulled her the final distance that separated us. "Kneel " I said while pulling
down on her hand. This placed her kneeling naked between my knees.

	I took the liberty of caressing her face. It wasn't much of a liberty considering what I was
going to be doing to her soon. I forced her chin up and made her look at me. "I think its time I
explained the rules to you. Don't you?"  She closed her eyes to my gaze, her lips parted. "Yes."
"Hold your hands behind you in the small of your back. "I don't need to tie you up do I?" She
shook her head no.  I ran my left hand through her thick hair. Suddenly, I grabbed a think
handful of it, pulled tightly tilting her head back. She gasped in surprise, her mouth and eyes
now wide open. 'Tell me your name." I hissed. Moving my lips to within a few inches of her lips.
She stammered her replay. "S S St .. ... Stacey Potter."  I tightened my grip on her hair. The
slap I delivered was hard and brutal. "That was the wrong answer. From now on your new name is
Cunt." I let the name and the slap take effect. "What's my name Cunt?" She thought for the
briefest of moments before responding. "I suppose you name is Master." That earned her another
slap. "Good guess Cunt, but my name is Darling. Most of the time you will preface it with Yes
Darling in response to a question. For example, would you like to suck my cock, Cunt? Your
response would naturally be 'Yes Darling'" "On rare occasions you would get to say No Darling.
For example I might ask you do you want to be set free? You would answer No Darling. Understand
Cunt?" She quickly responded "Yes Darling." eager to avoid further slaps. "That's great Cunt, I
knew we'd get along just great."

	I then went about groping her body with my free right hand. She struggled to keep her hands
clasped behind her back. "You have great tits." She did not reply. "Are they real?" I asked. "No
darling" was her reply. I let my hand drift down across her belly and stroked and petted her
pubic hair, inching closer to her pussy. "But you are a natural redhead, aren't you Cunt?" "Yes
darling." I was very pleased with her responses, and told her so. "You're doing quite well
Cunt." Her breathing eased somewhat, and I could tell that the longer she kneeled before me she
was gradually relaxing. I felt it was time she began to learn the names of things. I cupped her
left breast, and asked. "What is this Cunt?" "It is my left breast Darling." I reared up my
right hand, gearing up for another vicious slap. "No NO... it is one of your Breasts." Down came
the slap. "It is one of your cunts tits, DARLING, would have been the right answer." This
finally was too much and she began to sob uncontrollably, her entire body shaking. I pinched her
nipple hard. Changing her sobs to a high pitched squeal, for the duration of the pinch. "I had
believed that most Cunts who have their tits done loose feeling in them. I guess in your case
that's not true is it Cunt?" "No it's not darling." I went back to exploring her body with my
hands. I made her name both her tits. Her thighs, and belly. I caressed and penetrated her dry
cunt and ass with my fingers, making her name them all as I began to become familiar with my new
property. I explored her body at length till she regained her composure. Her face was a mess
with mascara running down her cheeks, in long streaks. As part of my exploration I found that
she had a tattoo on her ankle that had gone unnoticed. A tiny Rosebud partially opened. I stood
before her. My erection encased behind my pants brushed against her face. "My pants, take them
off." She complied reaching up with trembling hands and awkwardly undid my pants. My dick
flopped out, hard and heavy, brushing her face as it fell. Her face was turned away in profile
as her hands worked quickly moving my pants down to my ankles. I stepped free of them and kicked
them aside. I took her head in my hands and forcibly turned her head back to face the obscene
form of my dick. "Open your mouth." I could practically hear her jaw creak with effort as she
struggled to comply. "Wider Cunt" I chided. Finally her mouth was wide open before me. "Stick
out your tongue." Her long pink tongue poked out of her mouth. I grabbed her head from behind
with my left hand, and took my penis in my right hand. I used it like a paintbrush, smearing my
precum across the tip of her tongue. I let go of her sitting down on the bed again. She sat back
on her heels, her tongue recoiling back into her mouth. Her face briefly twisted into a sick
expression, then she quickly recovered. "Tell me how that tastes Cunt." "It tasted just fine
Darling." Her answer was formulated to neither please nor disappoint, too much. "I hope you like
it Cunt. It's the taste that is keeping you alive."

	This had been the first time that I had verbally threatened her life. I had hoped it would have
the desired effect. It did seem to get her attention, she sat up straighter and was paying close
attention to my words now. "I think its about time I fucked you. Don't you think so Cunt?" Again
her eyes closed as she struggled to croak out the words. "Whatever you want Darling." I began to
caress her hair, and took hold of her head as I had done earlier. "Well then where should I fuck
you first? In your mouth, your cunt, or your ass?"

	She was weighting the possibilities, as my patience was beginning to grow thin. "In my mouth
darling." I slapped her hard enough to spin her head this time. "Wrong answer Cunt. Try again."
She failed to hesitate at all this time. "Please Darling. Fuck me in my Cunt." sadly this too
was the wrong answer, and I answered her pleas with another vicious slap. "Surely you can come
up with the proper answer this time." Clearly, this was her least palatable option, the one that
she had saved for last. "Please ...Darling Please, fuck mm mme in the ass." Her last answer had
to be right. But it wasn't and I had to slap her, to remain consistent. "You really are a stupid
Cunt. Would you like me to tell you the proper answer." She nodded quickly..."Yes please
Darling...what do you want me to say?"

	I sighed with pantomime disappointment. "The proper answer is that you want me to fuck you in
any hole, and at any time, and in any place for as long as I want to. Do you think you can
handle that." I screamed at her. "Yes darling." She then replied that yes she wanted me to fuck
her in any hole at any time, and in any place for as long as I wanted to. Just as I had
instructed.

	She was near to being defeated now. I grabbed her chain and pulled her makeup stained face
close to mine, and began to kiss her deeply, fearlessly, completely exploring her mouth with my
tongue. Driving this first part of myself into her body, stealing this first piece of the
remaining sanctuary, of her bodily integrity from her. She was moaning loudly into my mouth. Her
moans were those of defeat, certainly not arousal. These moans were in fact bordering on
screams. They were the recognition of the truth in all that I had been telling her. That I did
in fact own her. That I could own her. That I was going to fuck her in any hole, at any time,
and in any location for as long as I wanted. I had taken all that she had. I had taken her
freedom from her. I had taken her clothes from her. I had taken her identity from her, by
renaming her to Cunt. And finally, I was about to take her body completely, in what were sure to
be gross and perverted ways.

	I finally broke the kiss, if you could call it a kiss. "Look at my dick Cunt." She looked down
at my crotch, clearly with reluctance. "Can you see how much I want you?" She responded with a
nod as well as verbally. "I can darling." Her face was a streaky mess of tears, makeup, and
snot. "You're a mess Cunt." I was holding her chain close to her collar. Quickly I stood and
began dragging her to the curtain that was covering the wall opposite the bed. "Let's go and
clean you up." I proceeded to drag her through this partition into the next room. I did not stop
in this room however, and quickly proceeded across the room to another curtain and dragged her
through it into a third room. The steel block trailed behind her beneath the rails rattling
along on its steel wheels. This arrangement would allow her independent movement between these
three rooms. An important point of the plan.

	This room was a small one. Perhaps only 6 feet wide by 15 feet wide. The entire room was tiled,
from floor to ceiling. One side had a large built in bathtub, big enough for two with an
integrated shower. The other side had a very Spartan and utilitarian toilet. I pushed her toward
the shower. "Get yourself cleaned up Cunt. You have ten minutes, at this station." She stumbled
toward the stall taking her heels off just before stepping in the tub/shower stall. She began to
run the water over herself, soon to be followed by her hands. Looking for the soap she finally
found it hanging by a cord from a hook. It was a lifelike recreation of a penis. Slightly larger
than reality, of course. It was very large in her hands. "Make sure you use that to clean
yourself out thoroughly Cunt. I don't want to get anyone else's residue on my dick when I fuck
you. Understand?" Once again she nodded and replied "Yes Darling." She turned her large
curvaceous backside toward me and began to use the soap to cleanse herself for me. This was
great. I sat down on the toilet to get as comfy as possible. "Turn around and face me." She did
slowly, and I could see her manipulating the soap dildo within her. "Don't forget your asshole,
I want you to be clean there too." She removed the soap from her front. It was only in her a
couple of inches. She moved it backward to her ass, and began to slowly drive it into herself. I
could see the pain, and shame flush across her face. She was obviously humiliated, at being
forced to perform for me. Earlier the dancing had been hard for her but this display was
overwhelming for her.

	I marched across the room toward her. As I did her own fear forced the soap out of her ass with
an audible pop. "That's good enough." I reached in and turned off the water, handing her a large
bath towel that she used to quickly dry herself off. I grabbed her by the hand after she had
finished drying herself. She stepped over the pink heels that lay forgotten on the tiled floor
and led her into the middle room through the curtain. Her chain trailed behind her, following us
into this room.

	The room was a transvestites dream room. Its decor reeked of femininity, and was an insult to
any self-respecting independent woman. Which she was clearly not, and would never be again. The
room housed a shelving unit that had a collection of boxes nestled neatly along the shelves.
They were all numbered. Near this there was a large well-equipped makeup table with matching
stool. The stool was bolted down to the floor. On the table was al the makeup she would ever
need. Lipstick, eyeliner, mascara, even some face powder. There were false fingernails and
eyelashes as well. There was a curling iron and a blow dryer, for her hair. Seemingly, I had
thought of everything that she would need to doll herself up for me. I directed her to sit down
at the table. The action of her sitting on the stool activated the lights that bordered the
large mirror hanging on the wall before her. "This Cunt, is of course the second station." As he
spoke she examined the items on the table closer. There were no tweezers or scissors, no eyelash
curlers or any other metal objects that could be fashioned into a weapon that she could use on
him or herself. "Are you paying attention to me Cunt?" My outburst brought her attention back to
my face. "Yes darling I am."

"Good. There is a picture in the drawer. Take it out and begin to make yourself up to match her
makeup. I will give you 20 minutes to complete this station. Over all it will take you no more
than thirty minutes to complete both station one and station 2." While I spoke she was examining
the picture and was. Applying the make-up to match my instructions. "Don't forget your nails
either Cunt. Put on the fake ones till yours grow back. The fake ones somehow suit you." She
ignored this latest insult. It was minor compared to the psychological insults he had already
heaped upon her.

	I watched her for a further 5 minutes, as she applied the liquid make-up to her lips. Then
began to cover the fire engine red lipstick with lip-gloss, that would seal in the color and
preserve the lipstick under a perpetually wet shiny coat. I have always enjoyed watching a woman
transform her appearance with the application of a thick whorish coat of make-up. The
transformation is always amazing to me. Even the most homely of woman is greatly improved.
Watching her use the brush to apply the lip-gloss moved me to speak. "Do you know the origin of
lipstick Cunt?" "No Darling I don't. Will you tell me?" He answer was perfectly formed. I moved
closer to her. Nuzzling her ear as I whispered. "Ancient Egyptian whores used to apply lipstick
to advertise their expertise in cock sucking." She briefly stopped applying the lip-gloss as I
forced her eyes to meet mine again. "Cleopatra caused a scandal when she adopted the practice of
applying lipstick to her own lips. Obviously, she thought herself a great cocksucker."

She was trying to concentrate on applying the gloss, and was nearly finished. When I asked. "Are
you a good cocksucker Cunt?" The loaded question hung in the air as she searched her mind for an
appropriate answer. She finally answered with. "I will be whatever you want me to be Darling."
To me this as a very suitable answer. However, its suitability denied me the possibility of
adding to the necessity of rouge on her well-slapped face. Relief swept over her now whorish
face. "You have about 15 minutes left Cunt. Finish you hair like hers." I pointed toward the
picture. "Your nails must be long and match you lips. When you are finished with the make-up I
want you to wear what you will find in the box labeled W1." Again I pointed to the appropriate
box, which was on the bottom shelf. I heard the now familiar. "Yes Darling."

"I'll be waiting for you in the bedroom." I bent squeezed the ass that I would soon have. As I
left the room to get conformable myself I remembered something. "Oh. I almost forgot. There is a
bottle of baby oil in the other drawer. Make sure you apply enough to your cunt and asshole. I
don't want to hurt you Cunt." I smiled and left the room, not waiting around for the inevitable
'Yes Darling' pleased as I saw the irony of the statement register with her psyche.

	Seconds later I found myself back in the bedroom. I finished removing the remainder of my
clothes and waited on the bed for her to enter. I could not remove the smile from my face as I
though about what I had accomplished. I had my own fuck doll captive and preparing herself for
her own debasement, without my supervision. It was all too perfect. I simply had a difficult
time believing my own good fortune. I could hear the hair dryer whirring away now. I glanced at
my watch. Jesus I still had 10 minutes to kill. These would be the longest ten minutes of all.
Soon I heard the blow dryer switch off. The next sound was the W1 box sliding of the shelf. I
heard her yield a short cry of despair as she first saw the contents of the box. I laughed out
loud. "Hurry up Cunt, you're running out of time."

	Time passed slowly but it did pass. Soon I heard her bell tinkle, and her new shoes click on
the floor as she approached the curtain, and then breached it. She stood before me a vision in
her lingerie. For our initial time together I had chosen an outfit in white. Quite appropriate
really as this would be a new experience for her. At least I hoped it would be a new experience
for her. You never know the world is full of a lot of very sick people, and some other bastard
may have already raped her already. Surely, not like this though. I was an artist in comparison
to any other mere street thug.

	I held up my hand to stop her advance, while I drank her beauty in. The white heels she wore
this time were a couple of inches higher that the pink ones she came to me in. Her shapely legs
were covered in the sheerest, most delicate white stockings, with seams of course. They seemed
to travel up her tanned legs forever. The color contrast was striking, between her tanned flesh
and the whiteness of the stockings. Holding them up was a delicate lacey garterbelt, originally
from Paris of course. Only the finest or my cunt. It is amazing what you can order over the
Internet, and how fast it can arrive as well. I continued my survey of her upwards passed her
widely flaring hips across her slightly pouting belly to the bra that was cradling her breasts.
Well part of her breasts anyway, it really wasn't much more than an underwire really, with maybe
an inch of material to cover her breasts. Combined with her hair and makeup she was the epitome
of an adolescents dream woman. A pinup centerfold caricature woman. The anti-thesis of what
every modern woman has been working on eradicating since the fabulous 50's. She was perfect,
ideal in fact. Except that I usually go for blondes. The cheap jewelry I had instructed her to
adorn herself with was the icing on the cake. She was wearing large dangling hoop earrings, many
rings on her fingers, a waste chain, and an ankle chain.

	I motioned for her to come to me on the bed. I felt the bed shift as she perched herself
tightly on the edge of the bed. Keeping as much distance between us as possible. Again I grabbed
her hand and pulled her down beside me on the bed. Her whole body was rigid, petrified. I
retrieved a key from the nightstand showed it to her and removed the collar from her. She rubbed
her neck grateful to be free from its weight. I threw it clanging to the floor. Her gratitude
was short lived however; her left ankle was the next target for a matching iron cuff, which I
snapped on securely. Visually this was preferable and would not impede her movements while on
the bed. I had visions of a very acrobatic fuck festival.

	Placing her hand on my erection I began exploring her crotch with my hands. She had applied
some baby oil, not a lot however which I found surprising. Her hand on my dick was completely
inactive. Her touch was the minimum needed to maintain contact. This minimalist pressure was
driving me wild. I forced her legs apart and clambered between them, there was a surprising
amount of resistance. The closer I got to her precious gold plated snatch the more the reality
of the situation crashed down upon her. Her considerable conscious effort was loosing to her
natural self-preservation instincts. My hopping between her legs broke contact with her hand. I
replaced her hand on my dick, and leaned it closer to my goal. "Hold it tightly Cunt!" my voice
hissed at her. Her fingers curled around my shaft and I leaned closer to her. My face now inches
from hers. Her head was turned to the side. Her eyes and mouth clamped shut, distorting her face
into an ugly mask of shame and humiliation. "Feed my cock into you pussy Cunt." Tears began to
squeeze past her eyelids. I turned her face back to face mine, and leaned closer into her till I
could feel the end of my cock begin to penetrate her. This drove me wild; I let my own body
weight drive me into her. I was watching her face closely. It erupted into a scream that did not
catch me by surprise, except in its ferocity. The baby oil eased my entrance slightly, though
not much. Her powerful muscles had clamped herself tight. I let my lips destroy her careful
lipstick as I smothered her screams with my own mouth. I sucked in her breath and smashed my
cock further into her center. The chains capturing her left ankle was rattling loudly as her
legs and hips were thrashing about wildly. We were at last together. Myself fueled by
animalistic lust, and pure desire, and she was in a similar primordial state. That of
self-preservation from my attack. Her nails instinctively came at me to rake me with her nails.
I grabbed them and pinned them down beside her head. As I continued raping her she settled
somewhat. Not from any easing of tension or revulsion of my body. But simply because her energy
level was waning. I rode her movements intent on wearing her down. Soon her movements stopped,
and I began mine. She was wide open and helpless to the assault. My long cock pistoned in and
out of her completely plumbing her depths. My thrusts were hard and forceful. On some of the
harder thrusts I could feel a tiny pin prick sticking me on the very head of my dick. The
realization of what it was hit me immediately, and delighted me at the same time. She was
wearing an IUD to prevent pregnancy. That would mean that I could keep her and continue to use
her all but indefinitely. That was until she began to bore me anyway, or until her physical
appearance deteriorated till she was no longer desirable. I had broken the kiss now to look at
her. Her makeup was destroyed again. Destroyed by me, by my actions. By my rape of her. She was
gasping for her breath beneath my weight. I was in heaven. The prospects of months of raping her
and the smell of her the sounds of defeat. The feel of her skin and the lace. The difference of
her ultra-femininity. Forced as it was upon her by myself, compared to my own masculinity. Was
too much for me. A few more quick jab into her and I was gone. I pressed into her as deeply as I
could, once again feeling the tiny removal strings of her IUD into the end of my throbbing cock.
I filled her with my cum. I fell upon her exhausted, and immensely satisfied.

	I was completely relaxed and spent, and lay panting on her, perspiration dripping off of me,
and dripping onto her. I rolled off her stood and walked around the room a bit. Fearful I would
drift of to sleep in my satisfaction. She too had rolled over and curled up into a fetal ball,
exposing her backside.

	I approached her again forcing her onto her back once again. Staring into her face and eyes.
"Tell me how much you enjoyed that Cunt." "It was great." "Really, you didn't seem to like it
much. Are you sure you liked it?" "Yes really I did, I promise." "Great! Next time your going to
act like you like it. Won't you?" She nodded fearfully, uncertain how she was going to force
herself to appear to enjoy it. "Yes darling."

"Your makeup is a mess cunt." "I know." She thought a bit, looking down at her feet, still clad
in her stocking and heels. "If you'll unchain me, I'll go and fix myself up for you and make
myself pretty for you again." I looked down at her. "That's ok. I think I can help you right
here." I got up on my knees, near her face. Using my finger, I recovered some of the goo that
was still sticking to by cock. I moved it near her lips and began tracing it on her lips.
Painting a coat of my cum on her lips. "There. Now your lips are all glossed up again."

"Thank you darling." "You're welcome Cunt."

	I got up removed her ankle-cuff, replacing her neck collar. "You have a half-hour to reverse
your steps. Put the clothes back into the W1 box. Drop the jewelry back into the jewelry box.
Shower yourself and wait for me in the shower if you get done before I meet you."

	While she did all that, I dressed and went to the kitchen to prepare dinner for myself. I
decided she would not eat today, and that she could loose about 5 pounds, just enough to tone
her up a little. I didn't want to have her loose a lot of weight. I like women who have a hint
of flesh on them. Five pounds would be enough for her.

	I went back to find her sitting on the toilet. Completely naked.

On the final wall of the bathroom section there was a small steel door. Down low near the floor.
It was about 2 feet square. I bent down and operated the heavy bolt opening the door. Revealing
a small corridor the length of body about six feet. I pointed toward the hole and ordered her
into it.

	She peered into the darkness, then crawled into the hole. Inside she found some bedding and a
bedpan made of plastic. There was nothing else. I closed the door bolting it shut. There was a
small gap to allow her collar chain to pass through in one corner. I closed the bolt, securing
her in. As I walked out I flipped 2 switches. The first electrifying the small door to her cage.
The other switch turning out the lights in the bathroom section, Station 1. Then I turned out
the light in the Station 2, the makeup room. Leaving her completely in the dark. Alone caged and
naked.

	Back in the house I collected my dinner, and brought it with me into the study. I turned the
monitors on. There were three cameras pointed at the empty bed. Two in Station 1, the shower
room. Three in station 2, the makeup room. One behind the mirror on the dressing table, so I
could get some great facial close-ups of my Cunt applying her makeup. All these were currently
useless in the complete darkness that the rooms were in. The camera I was interested in was in
her cell. It too was useless in the dark. But I was about to provide it with a light source. I
selected a long piece from the video library I had. An eight-hour compilation tape, that I had
made just for this occasion. Placing the tape in the player I powered on the microphone. I began
to whisper. "Lay on your back Cunt." She snapped to attention, rolling onto her back. Her eyes
were wide and searching in the darkness. The tape began to roll. I watched the tape play back in
the expressions of her face. The title of the tape rolled by. 'How to be a great cocksucker.' I
saw the despair and anguish enter her face. "Remember to pay attention cunt, there may be a test
after the movie." As the tears flowed down her cheeks I could faintly hear her reply over the
slurping sounds coming from the actress on the tape. "Yes Darling."

	I had my own tapes to watch. I started with the mirror camera. Watching her apply her makeup.
It was glorious to be able to replay her initial breaking in rape. To hear her screams echoing
again and again. I saw her hands fly up in an instinctive attack on me as I began the rape. Of
course she would need to be disciplined for this breach. I closed my eyes, relaxed and began to
think of possible ways that she would be best punished. Oh the possibilities

-------
There are other section coming in the near future. If you have content idea for poor Stacey's
future appearances please send them along to


special_kwa@hotmail.com

Remember I'm partial to blondes!

Here's wishing you all have a healthy fantasy life.




Review This Story || Author: Special Kwa
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