[victim4u]

When morning comes, I awake to his fully erect penis entering me from behind. My pussy is still sore and swollen from the previous night but I remain quiet as he presses his cock deep within me. He moves slowly and gently, allowing my body time to lubricate.

When he sees that I'm awake, he asks softly, "Does this hurt?"

His sudden kindness brings tears to my eyes, and I am so greatful that I shake my head no. He presses his body against me and strokes my hair, all the while kissing the back of my neck and shoulders. It is over quickly and he gives me a light pat on my bottom as he rolls off of me.

He whistles softly to himself as he walks out of the room. I try to stretch as best I can in my restraints to ease my stiff muscles. After a few minutes I smell fresh coffee and my stomach starts to growl. It occurs to me that I haven't eaten since before my meeting yesterday.

When he returns, he sits on the bed next to me and releases my ankles. I roll over onto my back and moan in pleasure at the change of position. He walks into his closet and returns dressed with my purse in his hand. He sits back down next to me and begins stroking my hair again.

"I'm really sorry about last night. I don't normally lose control like that and I'm sure I hurt you. I woke up early this morning and had new locks put on the doors so they can only be opened with a key."

I look at him in confusion. Why would he change the locks?

"I figured it wasn't really realistic to keep you tied down on my bed, so this way you can wander around the house freely. I also took the liberty of removing the phones and I have your cell phone in my pocket, so don't think about calling anyone to rescue you."

I can feel the panic start. If he's changed his locks, he may be planning on keeping me here longer than originally planned. I can see all of the things I worked so hard for flushing down the toilet in front of my eyes. I wonder who will take over all of the real estate deals I labored to get. I look at him, wanting to plead for my release, but knowing it would be a waste of breath. The windows, I think. Perhaps he'll feel comfortable enough to leave and I can escape through a window. He must have a job.

"While I was doing this, I came up with a proposition for you. If you'd like to hear it, I have breakfast cooking in the kitchen. Can I trust you enough to take off your wrist restraints?"

"Yes," I say quietly, trying not to show my surge of hope. He removes my bonds and helps me to sit up on the bed. I follow him into the kitchen and sit down at his kitchen table. He brings me coffee and sets a plate in front of me, then sits opposite me with his own coffee and eggs. As I begin to eat he lays out his proposition.

"I am going to keep you here for 3 days, starting tomorrow. During that time, I have to ask that there are no repeats of last night. I know that it was extremely emotional for you so I'm willing to let that go, but I can't promise I'll be as forgiving in the future. Your role here will be whatever I demand at the time. At the end of the 3 days I will have a test for you. If you pass it, I will release you."

"What kind of test?" I ask through a mouthful of bacon.

"You'll find out soon enough. For now, if you have any thoughts in that pretty head of yours about escaping, I must warn you that I have taken certain precautions."

At this he slides a thick envelope in front of me. I pick it up and open it. There are pictures of me in extremely compromising positions during last night's assault. As I go through them I blush at the look on my face in each one. He apparently was careful to only capture my face in ecstacy. Anyone who stumbled across these would have no doubt that I was a willing participant. I slowly return them to their envelope and take a trembling sip from my coffee.

"As you can see, those pictures make you look anything but innocent. I'd hate to think what pictures like those could do to a real estate career."

I look up at him, expecting that cruel stare again. Instead, his face is calm, his gaze steady. He has an expectant expression and I realize he is waiting for my response.

"Three days," I say. "I'll do the best I can."

"I think you'll do just fine," he replies. "I brought your purse in from the car so feel free to take a shower and freshen up. I promise I'll do my best to let you have your privacy."

I thank him and take my purse into his bathroom. After shutting the door (no lock, he must have gotten to this one too) I start the water and begin to investigate. Peeking into his medicine cabinet I find a bottle of aspirin and some painkillers. I briefly consider trying to fake an overdose but discard that idea. I've never attempted suicide and knew nothing about drugs. With my luck I'd probably end up actually overdosing.

I take a long shower, trying to wash him off of me. The water stings my abused labia and asshole. After rinsing, I step out of the shower and scream. He is sitting on the toilet, watching.

"I thought you said I could have some privacy," I accuse, my heart pounding.

"I lied."

He stands up and pulls me, still dripping, from the bathroom. I'm shivering in the cool air and my nipples stand erect.

"Get on your knees."

I obey immediately, not wanting to stay longer than the required 3 days. Looking up at him, I silently await his next order. He shoves both hands into my wet hair and pulls my face into his crotch. He turns my face from left to right as he humps his cotton covered cock against it. I feel him grow hard and hot. He pushes me unceremoniously away and I fall hard on my butt, wincing in pain.

"Get on the bed and spread your legs."

I pull myself onto his bed and lie on my back. I keep eye contact, knowing that it pleases him. I'm disappointed that I only get to feel clean for a few minutes before he defiles me again. Spreading my thighs as wide as they will go, my eyes follow him as he walks around to the foot of the bed. Staring at me with an almost clinical detatchment he says nothing. I feel the humiliation creeping up on me and I try to reason with myself that I have no choice but to obey his commands.

He walks to a dresser and opens a drawer, pulling a slender vibrator from it. Switching it on, he walks over to the bed and sits between my legs.

"Put them over your head."

I hesitate. He can't be serious, I think. I start to ask him to clarify when he suddenly grabs my ankles and roughly shoves them over my head. I struggle for a second and he smacks my bare upturned ass, making me cry out. Holding my ankles back he starts to strap one into one of the restraints.

"Give me your hand," he demands. I comply and he straps it in with my ankle. He repeats the process with the other one and sits back to admire his handiwork. I am now on my back, with my legs spread and my ankles tied back over my head. I am fully exposed to him. He picks up the still humming vibrator and pushes it all the way into my ass. I grunt in pain but remain still otherwise.

He gets up and walks out, returning a moment later with a book. Turning on his gas fireplace, he settles in one of the nearby chairs and begins to read. I realize he is toying with me again so I do my best to remain quiet. The buzzing makes my ass numb and, after a few minutes, begins to stimulate me. I try to shift a little but the movement intensifies the sensation. After ten minutes of this, I can feel my own juices start to slowly drip down onto my stomach. Fifteen minutes more and I am almost mad with the constant stimulation.

I beg him to stop it, agreeing to fuck him in any way he desires if he'll just turn it off. He never even looks up from his book. Turning each page gingerly, he continues to read as though I'm not there. I let out a groan of frustration and begin humping the air, trying to release the built pressure. Nothing helps. I thrash my head from side to side and pull in vain on my bonds. I can't quite pull my thighs close enough to create any friction, and my ankles are spread too far apart to turn myself over.

Tears of frustration spill onto my cheeks. By now it's been at least a half hour of this ridiculous torture and I'm at my wits end. My eyes are close and I'm panting heavily, my skin damp with sweat. Hearing the book shut I open my eyes. He comes close and stands at my head.

"What do you want," he asks in a silky and seductive voice.

"Please, I just want this to stop!"

He reaches over and turns the vibrator off. The sudden loss of stimulation makes me cry out in protest.

"Now what do you want?"

"I don't know," I wail.

"Sure you do. All you have to do is tell me," still in that same soft tone.

"I can't," I cry. "Please don't make me."

"I'm not going to make you do anything. I just can't help you if I don't know what it is that you need."

Remembering last night, I struggle to rein in my temper. In all actuality, the idea of him touching me makes my skin crawl, but at this point anyone will do.

"I want you to fuck me until I cum so hard it leaves me breathless! You've made me your whore, now make me love it!"

With a deep groan he tears off his clothes and falls onto me...