Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“There’s no point keeping me here,” she argues. “You’re going to get bored of me.”
I could never get bored of her. But I don’t tell her that. I tell her something else instead.
“I want you to have my babies, Laura.”
Her eyes widen. Her mouth opens in shock. She didn’t expect me to say that.
“Oh, Christ,” she says. “Seriously?”
“You object?”‘
She twists her face up at me, as if I just said something very, very stupid.
“And are the babies also going to be captive, or are they going to go to school and talk about their mom in a box? You’re not thinking this through,” she says, tapping the side of her head. “It’s not practical. Plus there’re maternal health appointments…”
“I’ll have doctors come here.”
“Riighhhhhhht,” she says. “Doctors, the people who love to help people. They’re going to attend a trapped woman who is chained to a bed and pregnant, or kept in a cage. I bet there’s a whole lot of…”
“Not every doctor wants to help people.”
“Oh, so you’re going to get an evil doctor to look after your unborn child.” She shakes her head at me. “Good idea. Have an evil doctor deliver your baby. Good one. Idiot.”
She’s going to pay for all this attitude, but it still amuses me to let her keep talking. The fact that she thinks there is such a thing as an evil doctor, as opposed to one paid very well to keep quiet, and aware that breaking my confidence would mean certain death, shows a charming innocence in her thought process. Laura does not understand the world, no matter how keen she might be to plumb its darkness from time to time.
“I’m sorry, do you have a better idea?”
“Keeping people captive is so 2001,” she says. “It’s outdated. And old. Like you probably are.”
She is fucking with me. The woman I am trying to hold as a prisoner in my home has the nerve to mock me for doing it. I cock my head to the side and remain silent, waiting for her to work out that she’s gone too far.
She squeals with laughter as I sweep the tray away from her.
“You have to wear a balaclava in your own home? Are you going to watch television in it?” She’s still laughing as I throw her over my lap and start spanking her impudent ass again.
“What else are you going to do? Shower in it?”
I spank harder, until the little verbal barbs turn into gasps and real squeals of pain.
“Ow!” she whines. “I’m sorry!”
“Are you?”
“Sorry you have this stupid idea of kidnapping me and making me pregnant. Having kids sucks, and your nice old house isn’t going to stay nice very long with a bunch of captive kids running around it. Are you going to kidnap childcare workers as well? A pediatrician? You going to kidnap a whole service industry?” She’s laughing now, as if the idea is so outlandish she can’t fathom it.
It’s cute, in a way, that she does not truly understand I could just lock her in a basement and keep her there for years. She’s aware of the concept, of course. I know that, because I taught her about it myself not that long ago. But there is a world of difference between understanding that these things happen to other people, and really getting that they are happening to you personally.
I spank her longer, not harder. Her cute round ass is getting very, very red, and I don’t want to leave too many marks and bruises on her. She’s the type to need frequent discipline and as tempting as it might be to beat the hell out of her insubordinate, disrespectful little ass, I don’t want her entirely broken. Not yet.
“Owwww!” she complains, sounding petulant and childlike, as if she’s shocked that the man she saw kill someone in cold blood not twenty-four hours ago might be capable of inflicting real pain.
“You’ve had your fun,” I tell her. “It’s time to behave yourself now. You’re mine. I know you haven’t come to terms with that, and you’re trying to fight it because it scares you, but you are. You gave yourself to me already over and over, and you know as well as I do that this hungry little hole wants to be dominated and owned.”
I slide my hand down between her thighs and press two fingers inside her. She’s wet, of course. The stimulation from being spanked and the excitement of captivity has left her absolutely soaked with arousal.
The moan she makes is very gratifying. She needs to be taken, this little brat. She needs to be impaled on my cock and made to come until she remembers her place. The only time she’s truly obedient is when I have her wrapped around my dick.
“Tell me,” I growl, one hand in her hair, pressing her against the mattress, the other sluicing into her tight little pussy. “Tell me that you’re mine.”