The night air only has a slight chill to it, but Chelsea shivers a little as a howling breeze rolls through, kicking up the autumn leaves from the dampened grass. All is silent aside from the winds; the park being completely deserted offers her a moment of peace under the starry black sky. Suddenly, a shadow jumps from the corner of her eye, and with a gasp, she turns around.
"Who's there?" She calls to the night. No one, aside from hollow echoes, returns her question. She takes a deep breath, realizing her heart is beating rapidly against its nature. Fuck, that scared me- it's probably just a cat, nothing more. She continues down the park pathway, stealing a nervous glance over her shoulder as her pace quickens subconsciously. Shit, something or someone is out there. I'll just keep walking and I won't sto-. Her thoughts are cut short when she turns to look behind herself again and spots the silhouette of a hooded figure approaching her. Chelsea does not hesitate to bolt down the path, the curve in the tree line covering her for now. No reason to panic, he won't hurt you. He didn't even see you. The prayers of assurance scroll futilely though her mind. Her heart pounds in her ears as she tries to calm herself. Chelsea hastily stumbles onwards, taking deep breaths. Her heels clatter on the pavement, the unwieldy footwear proves to be the bane of her haste in her attempts to get away. She gives a little sigh of relief as she spots the light from a parking lot up ahead. A single, dark sedan is parked in a lonely in the corner of the gravel lot which is otherwise abandoned. Heart still hammering, her path leads her to the side of a maintenance shed. Leaning against the wooden siding, she breaths deeply, trying to calm herself. After only a moments rest, she peeks over the side of the shed. Chelsea's heart stops its beating, her eyes widen, and her mouth opens to scream. The hooded man stands right in front of her, so close she can see the wicked lights of his eyes leering into hers from under his cowl. She cries out as loud as she can, but to her surprise, the man's hand flashes up, an odd smelling rag is forced up to her mouth as his hand stifles Chelsea's desperate plea. The stranger grabs ahold of her fiercely; his iron grip does not give way as the fumes of the chloroform rag seep into her lungs. Chelsea's eyelids flutter as her vision clouds, darkness drags her into unconsciousness.
Cold steel is all that she can feel when the haze of the chemical is whisked away from her head. The dark cloth band covers her eyes, rendering her blind. Chelsea tries to move her lips, but finds that duct tape covers them.
"Hmmmrmph!" She grunts, trying to shift about in the chair, remembering what happened. Her heart picks up pace again. Where am I? Oh my god- What happened to me? Fuck! Why can't I move! As she tries to lift her arms and legs, she feels the harsh clasps of metal cuffs dig into her wrists and ankles.
"Try all you want, those cuffs won't break." A deep voice says from somewhere in front of her. As the voice reaches her ears Chelsea freezes, the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end. "But now that you are awake, it's time for some fun…" The stranger continues to say. These last words send a bolt of panic through her. Chelsea kicks and flails in her restraints, the jagged metal refuses to give at all. "That's it, fight a little for me. I love it when they resist, makes my job oh-so fun." Even though she cannot see him, Chelsea knows that he is grinning while he says this. Sick bastard. A pair of fingers suddenly tugs off the blindfold from her face. Bright, blaring light hits her eyes, which widen as the scene comes into focus.
The room is rather dark; it would seem to be some sort of abandoned industrial warehouse. The place must not have been used in a good deal of time due to its filthy appearance. A single ceiling light hangs suspended just next to her. The rays it casts highlight the dust that floats on the still air. Long shadows stretch from the various objects in the room. Before her lies a large metal table, its legs are bolted into the floor and unlike the rest of the room, it is polished to a shine. To her right is another table, this one wooden, sporting an incredible number of evil looking objects ranging from simple gags and whips to ridiculous devices that could easily have been from a horror film. Her eyes dart to the man before her. He is much bigger than she is; his face is covered by a ski mask with dark eyes staring lecherously at her stranded form. Tossing the blindfold to the ground, he makes his way around to her side and then moves behind her, out of Chelsea's sight. Desperately she cranes her neck around, trying to get loose once again. She feels the stranger place a hand on her shoulder, which in turn makes her jump and twist about even more in her handcuffs.
He lowers his lips to her ear and taunts"Look to that table over there… we will start on the right and go down the line… and we have all night." She tries to cry, but the duct tape hold soundly and binds her lips. The man lets his hand slide down her shoulder to the front of her chest. In response she tries to turn away, but the hand cuffs hold her back allowing his powerful hand to grope her breast forcibly. He rolls Chelsea's full and supple breast about a moment. He relinquishes his grasp and walks to the table, plucking a large knife from the assortment; he casually strolls over to her chair, playing with the blade as he looks down at her. Bringing the weapon close to her chest, he slices up in a single swift motion; the fine edge cuts the fibers of her blouse open. He dips his hand into the gap and then roughly rips the clothing, tearing it from her body. He drops the remnants of the blouse to the floor, and then flips the blade under the front part of her bra. A little flick of his wrist and the razor sharp tip cuts the middle support of the undergarment. The padded cups dangle slightly but fall away and expose her bare breasts when he knocks the bra away with the knife. All the while, Chelsea wiggles about in her seat, trying hopelessly to get away as she is stripped against her will.
"Hope you don't mind if you get a little more naked?" He says as he admires her breasts a moment. Chelsea can only hum desperate protests in reply. "Oh? You don't have a problem with it then?" The stranger mocks back. No! Stop! She thinks, but she has no way to prevent him from going further. The man retrieves a switch from the table and looks it up and down, his vile gaze then drifts to her bare breasts. He lowers the leather fold to her tits then flicks the end on the side of one of her breasts causing Chelsea jumps in her seat and gives a muffled scream as the device leaves her chest a little reddened. He repeats this motion, slapping each nipple lightly with the switch, not leaving any real damage but the slightest sting fades slowly as he replaces it on the table and turns back to her. Chelsea squints at what he holds but her heart skips a beat as she realizes what he is approaching her with.
At first glance, the object looks like a simple gag; a metal ring in the center is supported by several bent rods that look very similar to the legs of spider. His hand goes to her mouth, fingertips pick at the tap that binds her lips. In a single fluid motion he rips the tape off, making Chelsea cry out, this time her voice carries and echoes through the room.
She looks to him and pleads "Please! Let me go I have some mon-mmrn!". But she is cut short as his hand firmly grabs her mouth; his fingers pinch her cheeks and stay notched in-between her teeth thus preventing her from biting down. He places the cold metal ring into her open mouth, the indents on the inner part of the ring brace her lips and mouth open in a rather perverted posture. He holds the ring in place as he wraps the rope binds around the back of her head and then uses both hands to tie the ropes and secure the gag.
"What's the matter? Don't you like to smile?" He says with a dark chuckle as he pats the side of her cheek. Chelsea only can look up at him with sullen eyes and give grunts while her mouth hangs wide open in a rather grotesque looking manner, the rope binds inlayed slightly in her taught skin. He procures a key and unlocks the part of the handcuffs that are attached to the chair, temporarily freeing her arms. He extends his hands quickly and latches onto her freed wrists, his grip like a vice, and drags her forward slightly and reattaches the cuffs to the shackles on the far end of the table. This position awkwardly sprawls Chelsea face down onto the table, the cold metal is uncomfortable against her heated skin. The man produces a long rod with some thick leather circular claps on each end. Kneeling at her feet, he attaches the leather straps to each foot. Chelsea kicks a little, doing all that she can to stop the other loop from going on her foot, but he skillfully worms her leg into the ankle hold. With her slender legs now tightly locked into the spread bar, he runs a hand up her smooth bare thigh, causing her legs to wobble about. A twisted smile scrolls over his lips as his hand goes up her loose fitting skirt, bringing forth a cry from the other end of the table and the sound of rattling the shackles. Standing, the masked man walks over to the opposite end of the table which just so happens to be perfectly level with his groin. He unzips the fly of his jeans, dropping them down to his ankles. Chelsea, eagle spread over the side of the table, violently tugs and pulls on her unyielding restraints as he exposes his stiffening dick.
"You want this don't you?" He says with glee, looking down to her distorted face which hangs just over the end of the table. He places his large commanding hands on either side of her head and then positions his meat in line with her gaping mouth, saliva dribbling down the side of her lips and the rope. He slips into her waiting mouth, his warm, thick cock rest on her squirming tongue. "Open up your throat up you filthy slut." He orders her, slapping her cheek gruffly when she does not obediently comply. "There you go, that's it." He pushes into her mouth, thrusting forcefully into her head, making her gag uncontrollably at the sensation of his dick plunging deeper into her throat. She coughs and sputters as he deliberately pauses his movement, leaving his hard on buried in her while he is all the way in, Chelsea's nose touching the base of his cock. He pulls out quickly, letting her catch her breath while strings of drool and pre-cum hang off his throbbing member. He pounds back in saying "Open up more you whore, make your mouth a runway for me." Her gag reflex kicks in yet again as he continues to work her throat. He withdraws and walks over to the table, a mixture of juices glisten in the light on his protruding thickness. The stranger picks up some sturdy rope and unravels it, then starts to tie some complex knots around her small wrists, lacing the lines of it under her chest, repeatedly crossing over her breasts and her back. He then loops the rope several times over a support on the ceiling, then finally wraps it around her other wrist. Seemingly completed with his work, he takes a hold of a spare loop that is suspended and yanks on it. To Chelsea's surprise, the front of her torso is lifted, the binds dig sharply into her skin and she lets out a little cry as she shifts upwards. The man moves back to his original position at her head, this time he slowly eases up on the rope control, steadily lowering her face onto his ready cock. Chelsea's weight pushes her mouth downwards onto his girth, choking her somewhat but he pulls back on the rope, lifting once more only to lower her back onto him after a brief pause, letting gravity do his work for him. This continues, all the while he looks down at her, his sick expression drinks in the doomed look on her ragged face as he abuses her throat.
"I grow tired of this opening, time to move on." He announces as he removes himself from her. Oh please no, don't, no fuck please. She whines and shifts in her binds, but her weary body has almost no strength to put much of a fight. "Don't worry, if I am satisfied, I might even let you cum too." He sneers, truly enjoying the ability to lord his dominance over her. Stepping around to the back, he flips up her skirt and roughly runs his hand on her covered slit. "Hmm, somebody is a little wet slut. I think you are enjoying this." He proclaims in a mocking tone. He slips a finger under the thin fabric of her panties and tears away the flimsy underwear. Bending down low between her quivering legs, he greedily sniffs her, savoring the scent of her delicate sex. The stranger's hot tongue darts out, lapping the moisture that has trickled down the inside of her leg as if he were sampling her. Slowly, he eases back up and lines up his hips with hers. Chelsea can feel his slick tip press into the soft pink lips of her pussy as he teases her, rubbing it up and down through her sweet folds. Without warning, the man rams up into her, this length going deep into her tight hole, stopping only at his hilt. Chelsea cries out in slight surprise, only a hint of pleasure escapes with a groan from her open mouth. He vigorously pumps into her; one hand has a firm hold on her ass, the other occasionally gives her bottom a little whack. This extracts a whimper from Chelsea as she tightens up, the stranger timing his pounding so that he slams into her as she clamps down on him.
"Fuck, you are one tight little street whore." He murmurs as he grunts rhythmically to the movement of his rock hard cock slipping in and out of her. The man withdraws himself completely, lingering for a brief time only to plunge back into her soft, velvety walls. Chelsea all the while moans and writhes about, completely immobilized on the table, she lays helpless as the stranger uses her like a fuck toy. The sweat that has formed on her brow has plastered her hair uncomfortably to her face. "Ahh-fuck your tight cunt is going to make me cum soon- ugh fuck!" He cries out, he speeds up his thrusts as he comes close to orgasm. "Ohh-shit, you dirty slut I'm cuming! Fuck yes!" His brutal penetrations grind to a near stop as Chelsea feels his hard cock jerk deep within her. His hot thick seed is spilled out into her pussy, filling her up while his powerful cock muscles shoot stream after stream into her abused fuck hole. "Mmm, that's a good slave, making your master cum so hard." He says gently fucking her as the last of his spunk is roughly milked by her ravaged slit. Chelsea can feel the tingles of her own building orgasm. The stranger's warm sperm ooze out the sides of her pussy as he pulls out his semi limp dick with a resounding 'pop'. "I suppose I will let the whore cum as well, but you must beg for it." He says with a insidious look of delight on his face.
Chelsea can feel the rope that was binding her face loosen and fall to the floor along with the gag. She licks her cracked and dried lips before stammering "Y-Yes." The man is not satisfied and waits. "Yes, please master!" She cries out a little clearer this time. Yet, the stranger still stands, waiting to her the exact words from her. "Yes, please master! Make me cum for you!" She screams out. The man in turn laughs darkly and pulls a large vibrator from his table, the loud buzz sounds as he activates it, running it over her gooey hole once. Chelsea bucks her hips slightly with the feeling of the wondrous device on her engorged clit, she moans with pleasure as orgasmic sensations start to build deep in her. Reaching around the front of her bent legs, the stranger uses his index and middle fingers to spread open the fleshy pedals of her wet sex. Replacing the vibrating ball on her semi exposed clit; he makes little circular motions over her hood, her legs quake with the intense pressure on her sweet spot in response. Inside, Chelsea can feel the great rush building, getting closer and closer. The tied up slave starts to moan and groan while her master forces her to cum for him, pleasuring her sore pussy with the toy. The ball massages her clit nonstop; the powerful vibrations now bring her to the brink. "O-Oh y-yes master! I- I'm going to cum!" She stutters, but then to her surprise he retracts the vibrator quickly as she is about to cum, only to give her a moment to cool and then rubbing it on her again. "P-please master, I beg of you, let me release…" she pleads, desperate to orgasm. Chelsea shakes as the tremendous waves start to wash over her but then to her disappointment, she is harshly stopped just as she is brought to the brink only to be let down again. In frustration, she snarls and earnestly pushes her ass backwards as far as she can to try and get it towards the buzzing toy.
"You have been a good slave so you may cum for your master." He says decisively and wedges the humming ball back in between her spread thighs. The rapid vibrations stimulate her arching clit as she starts to cum hard. The crashing waves of ecstasy tumble over her body as Chelsea screams out, her body shakes with ardent passion in her constricting binds. Chest heaving, she feels her pussy twitch as the last of the powerful orgasm works its way out of her. The buzzing is silenced and the toy replaced. The last tremors leave Chelsea's body in little convulsions.
"T-Thank you master." She manages to whisper.