“I’m going out for a jog” Miranda said as she passed in front of her parent’s bedroom, where her mother was unpacking. “Do you have to go right now?” her mother asked, as she glanced at her daughter already dressed in her red jogging shorts, light white top with spaghetti straps, “Can’t you unpack first?”
Miranda sighed, “I’ve unpacked as much as I need and there’s no rush as there’s nothing to do in this place. It’s dead. You know I wanted Florida not Maine for our vacation. Anyway, I have to stretch after the drive from Boston or I’ll be in a bad mood all day.”
Her mother shrugged, she always wanted to avoid Miranda’s moods if possible. They’d been bad before but, after her daughter got to high school, they seemed to be worse. Miranda leaned on the door frame, exaggerating the curve of her hips, and shook her long brown hair around her shoulders with impatience.
“O.K.” her mother agreed, reluctantly, biting back a warning not to get in to any trouble. She knew that would get rolling eyes and a rude reply. She couldn’t help adding “Don’t go too far and we won’t wait dinner if you’re not back in time.” although she knew it wouldn’t have any effect on her daughter.
Miranda’s shrug mirrored her mother’s. She put her earphones on and went out banging the screen door behind her. Mrs. Templeton wondered if she’d been like that when she’d been a teenager. She looked out the window and watched her daughter jog down the road, her long, well-shaped legs seemed designed for running. It was a shame that Miranda was set on being a cheerleader next year rather than a runner. Her mother couldn’t think of cheerleading as a sport like track or cross-country. All the same she had to admit that her daughter had a beautiful body that, combined with her athletic abilities, would be certain to get her on the cheerleading team. But a sports scholarship would be good to help pay for college. She shook her head in amazement at the thought that this would be Miranda’s last year in high school.
Turning away from the window she forgot about Miranda as she unpacked and started thinking about the dinner she had to make. Her husband and son, who were driving up in a few hours as her son couldn’t get off working that day at his summer job. They wouldn’t set out until after five so they’d be eating late.
She had no idea that she would never see her daughter again.
***
Miranda felt the tension drain from her body as she began to jog. She’d resisted the idea of coming to Maine as strongly as she could, but her parents had insisted. They thought it might be the last time that they would likely have a family holiday as Miranda’s older brother was off to his last year in university in a couple of months. Her tension built back as she felt her resentment at the freedom that her brother was given. It seemed like everyone treated her like a baby. Her friends went to concerts and Spring Break vacations while she was kept at home. She wasn’t really that much younger than Phillip and she’d be seventeen during this vacation. That added to her anger. She was going to be a senior in high school and she couldn’t have a party with her friends - those who stayed in town anyway.
Then she smiled to herself, at least she’d managed to get out of the house before her mother realized that she wasn’t wearing her sports bra. Her breasts weren’t large and she liked the feel of them moving while she jogged. She found that the rubbing of her nipples against the soft cloth made them swell and become more sensitive. She liked the feel of the sun on her bare skin and the way the breeze moved her hair. She wanted to explore how her body felt. As she jogged along the coast she wondered what it would be like to swim without a bathing suit. Some of her friends had gone skinny dipping in a lake and said that feeling the water between their thighs was exciting.
Miranda was comfortable with her body and was proud of the way men looked at her. She knew that they found her attractive. She wondered what it would be like to have a grown man touch her. She wondered what it would feel like to have a man look at her naked. The past year a she’d let a boy touch her. He’s slid his hand under her shirt and touched her breasts. She’d kissed quite a few boys but still didn’t really like it when they put their tongues in her mouth.
But she knew she’d have to get used to it. As a cheerleader she’d be with the football team. If she liked one of them maybe she’d let him go all the way. The thought of a boy’s penis penetrating her body was rather frightening. If she was honest with herself she found it more disgusting than exciting. But it would be a sign of growing up; she knew that she’d do it some day. She hoped she’d find it as exciting as it was supposed to be.
As she thought about all this she jogged further and further along the coast road. It hadn’t taken long to get out of the village., She’d gone up a couple of hills, round several curves and now seemed to be in wilderness with the sea on one side and woods on the other. Miranda wondered if she should turn back but thought that she was being cowardly and, bringing back the thought of how her mother treated her like a baby pushed her to continue.
On the next rise she could see a little creek where there were a few boats moored beside a wooden dock. The teenager decided to go there and have a breather before she started back to the boredom of their vacation. If she got back to early she only have to wait around for her father to get there.
Reaching the dock, Miranda stopped and stretched. She felt better after that exercise. Wandering along the dock she realized that it wasn’t deserted; a man was working on a fair sized powerboat. He seemed to be loading picnic coolers. He was all alone and, despite a cool breeze, had stripped off his shirt as he worked.
Miranda sized him up. It was something that she and her girlfriends made a game of doing. They awarded men points on a scale of one to ten. Before a guy had a chance to be a ten he had to be a jock, a senior or in college or a celebrity. She wasn’t sure if this guy was a six or a seven; he was clearly too old to be a ten as he was well into his thirties. She went closer to get a better look.
He looked up and smiled, Miranda guessed he’d heard her shoes on the boards of the dock. “Hi” he said “Have you come to volunteer to help me load my boat?” Miranda shook her head. She decided he was a seven. He was quite tall, taller than her, had all his hair and looked fit.
“No, I’m just out jogging” she replied “What are you doing with all those coolers?” The man paused, putting his hands on his hips. “Well, when I go to my islands, sometimes I go fishing and then I can take lobsters and other stuff back to Boston for friends and family. Are you on vacation up here?” he asked.
Miranda nodded but was intrigued by something he said. “You have an island?” she asked. He said that he did, that it wasn’t big but was just around the headland. He added that he was going out there now but then had to come back to drive to Boston as the kids were expecting him to be there for a school performance. Miranda lowered his score to a five as he was obviously a boring married man with kids.
As if the thought had just struck him, he said to Miranda that, if she was interested, she could come and see the island. He repeated that it was just around the headland and they’d be there and back in an hour.
Miranda hesitated; the idea of a boat trip and visiting an island was tempting. It was as about as good as she was likely to find in this hole. Seeing that she was hesitating the man said he understood if she felt she couldn’t come without asking her parents first.
That was just the right remark to decide the teenager to go. She didn’t want this man, even if he was a stranger, just assuming that she was a child who had to get permission to do anything. Anyway, what harm was there in it? She’d be out and back before her mother starting worrying.
“O.K. I’d like to see your island” Miranda said in a firm voice. At his direction she untied the mooring rope and stepped down into the boat. The man started the motor and moved the boat away from the dock. He asked Miranda if she’d step down into the cabin and listen for the radio, in case the harbormaster called.
A little proud of being treated as a responsible person she did as he asked. There was no sound from the radio. She heard the roar of the motors as the boat speeded up and headed out of the bay. She could feel that it had moved out of the shelter of the bay as the boat bounced up and down on the waves. The roar of the motors increased and, as she looked out of the portholes, Miranda was taken aback at the speed at which they were traveling.
As the boat continued to increase it’s speed, and there was no sound on the radio, Miranda decided to go up on deck. Poking her head out of the cabin she shivered at the chill of the wind across the water. Looking back, she was rather worried to see how far they’d come from the land. She’d expected the boat to have stayed close to the coast.
Turning to look for the island, Miranda couldn’t see any close by. There were islands all along the coast but none of the close ones were in the direction they were heading. When she asked where the island was, the man answered vaguely that it wouldn’t take long to get there.
The girl began to panic. The regretted the feeling of protest at being considered a child that had driven her to get onboard. She began to worry. She realized that she’d done something very risky by coming out alone with someone she didn’t know. Trying to keep a tremble out of her voice she told the man that she’d decided she didn’t want to visit the island and that her parents were expecting her home.
The man shrugged. He said he wasn’t going to turn around and she’d better just wait until they got to the island. Miranda looked around for help. There weren’t any boats nearby. No one near enough to hear her if she yelled or pay attention if she waved. Trying to control a rising sense of panic, she looked at the man as he stood at the wheel of the boat. He no longer looked friendly. His look was cold and calculating - rather like a cat looking at a mouse.
An idea came to Miranda. There was the radio in the cabin. Maybe she could call the coastguards or someone for help while he was busy steering the boat. Trying to sound casual the teenager said that she was feeling cold and was going back into the cabin.
Once in the cabin she looked back to make sure the man couldn’t see her and went to the radio. There were so many knobs, buttons and dials but she managed to turn it on. Just as she was about to flick a switch that had “transmit” written under it, a hand clamped on her wrist, twisting her arm savagely behind her back. She cried out in pain and fright.
“Being a clever girl, eh?” the man snarled propelling her across the cabin to one of the bunks. “I don’t have time to do much now” he said “ just time enough to make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”
Miranda struggled, as best she could, but couldn’t break his grip. Soon she was face down on the bunk and he had pulled both her arms behind her back. She felt him twist a rope or cord around her wrists and cried out in pain as he tied it tight. Next he lifted her legs onto the bunk and tied her ankles together. Rolling her onto her side facing him, he smiled as he looked at her struggling helplessly. He stroked her cheek and squeezed her breast while she twisted to try to get away from his hands. He laughed and then, without saying a word, left her there and went back on deck.
Trembling, Miranda lay on the bunk. Realizing that it was hopeless, she stopped struggling to free herself. All she was doing was rubbing her wrists raw. She felt sick with fear. What was going to happen to her? Was he going to rape her and then throw her into the sea? Was he one of those white slavers who kidnapped women and sold them in foreign countries?
The thought of what might happen to her was too much; she lost control of her body and felt herself peeing. Soon the smell of the urine that soaked her shorts and was soaking into the cushions of the bunk, filled her nostrils. She felt ashamed, and alone. She didn’t feel like an adult any more, she was a girl who wanted her mother. Tears filled her eyes and spilled out as she began to sob. Deep inside she realized that the life she’d known up to now had ended. Whatever happened to her now was up to the man steering the boat that was taking her away from her family and friends; away from everything she’d known,
***
Trav smiled to himself. He felt good. He always felt better when he was in his boat, feeling the power of the engines that could outrun almost any coastguard vessel. He felt good to have the wind blowing in his face. He felt good because he’d safely delivered fifty kilos of coke and was a lot richer. But more than anything he felt good because he had a beautiful girl helpless and that he could do anything he wanted with.
It had been so easy that he found himself laughing out loud. Just back from the run to Boston he was loading the coolers with the empty sides and lid, in which he’d hidden the drugs, onto his boat when he caught a flash or red on the coast road. With the sort of business he was in he was always alert to his surroundings so he kept an eye on the movement to see what was coming. If he needed to he could unmoor the boat and be out to see in less than a minute.
The road that came to the cove dead-ended less than a mile further and was hardly used now that the lighthouse was automatic. A few picnickers and birdwatchers from time to time. Otherwise just the people who moored their boats here.
As the person got closer Trav could see it was a jogger, not likely to be a threat. Closer still and he could see that it was a girl, a very attractive girl with long brown hair and long, pale brown legs. The fact that she was alone was exciting but he wasn’t going to take any risks.
His excitement mounted as she stopped running at the end of the dock. Out of the corner of his eye he watched her as she stretched. He saw the outline of her breasts and the points of her nipples against the thin material of her top. He felt himself hold his breath as he watched and felt the desire build in his body. He smiled to himself as she started walking out along the dock. Maybe this was his lucky day. Still pretending not to notice her approach, he found his mouth had gone dry as he looked at her long, shapely legs, the mass of hair that fell about her shoulders, the outline of hips and breasts against the thin, tight material of her jogging outfit.
Finally Trav glanced up, as if noticing the girl for the first time. He smiled at her as he looked around. Yes, she was certainly alone; no car following her and no companion jogger. Neither was there anyone else in the cove to see what happened. Charlie had been working on his boat but Trav had met him in town on the way out and knew that he wouldn’t be back for a few hours. He was getting a piece for his engine retooled.
Pretending to be a safe sort of guy, it had been easy to talk the girl onto the boat. There was something about her that made him sure that she’d rise to the line about having to get parental permission. As she’d stepped down into the boat he enjoyed the sight of her arse outlined against her red shorts and, as she bent forward to cast off the rope, her top hung open to show her breasts, firm and swelling like two of those old-fashioned champagne glasses. He’d had some difficulty stopping himself from grabbing her then. But his patience had been rewarded. Now she was tied up, down in the cabin, and he’d have all the time in the world to enjoy her once they were at the island.
***
It didn’t take too long before his island came into sight. It wasn’t big but big enough to have been occupied by the coastguard during the war and there was a sheltered cove for the boat. It’s biggest advantages were that it was away from the mainland, from neighboring islands and from prying eyes. He could take his boat out to rendezvous with the cargo ships that carried his merchandise without arousing any curiosity.
Trav steered the boat into the cove, sheltered from the waves rolling in off the North Atlantic. He cut the motor and tied the boat securely fore and aft to the concrete jetty. Still usable even though it had been built by the coastguard when the island was an observation point to protect shipping from German submarines during WW2. Only when he was satisfied that the boat was secure did he gave himself the pleasure of going down into the cabin to see his captive.
In her first moments of struggle Miranda had rolled herself onto her back, her arms tied behind her had begun to ache so she’d rolled back onto her side facing into the cabin. Her brown eyes, wide with fear, watched her abductor as he came down the three steps into the cabin. There was nothing pleasant about his smile as he stood there looking at her.
“Please” Miranda said, her voice trembling “Please don’t hurt me. Please let me go. I want to go home.”
Trav laughed. “Forget about your old home, sweetheart. This is your home now. You’re staying here as my slave. You will do everything I tell you to do. If you fight or try to escape, I’ll hurt you.” He paused, “I don’t expect you to do that without being persuaded.” He licked his lips and then drew them back in a wolfish grin. “But I’m going to enjoy persuading you. I’m going to enjoy it a real lot.”
He pulled off her jogging shoes and socks. Being barefoot was always a hinderance to running or kicking. Next he took a knife out of his pocket and cut the ropes that bound Miranda’s feet. She squealed with pain as he grabbed her by the shoulder and roughly pulled her to her feet. Trav looked at the stain of piss on the cushion of the bunk. “You need to respect my possessions and not mess them up.” Without warning he slapped her viciously across the cheek, leaving a red mark. The slap brought tears to her eyes and the teenage girl sobbed helplessly as he pulled her across the cabin and pushed her up the steps onto the deck.
Blurred by her tears, Miranda tried to look around as he continued to force her forward onto the quay. She stumbled but his cruel grip held her upright. The harbor was surrounded on three sides by cliffs that sheltered it from the wind and from sight of the ocean. The path from the quay was paved with crumbling concrete, pushed apart in places by the roots of the stunted trees that grew on either side. She winced with pain as the hard, crumbling surface cut into the bare soles of her feet.
Looking up she could see a grim concrete building at the end of the path. “Here’s your new home. You’d better get used to it and to your new name; it’s “Slave”. Get used to it because it’s all I’m going to call you.”
“Move, Slave” he said pushing her, stumbling along the path. Once they were out of the shelter of the cove there was a cold wind and the girl shivered as much from the wind against her bare arms and legs as from the feeling of terror that was overwhelming her.
“It can’t be real” she thought “This is some horrible nightmare. I’m going to wake up and find that I’m home. “ But however much she tried to wake up there was no change. She began to feel sick to her stomach, maybe it was real. This man really meant to keep her as a slave. What would he make her do? What would he do to her if she refused? The feeling of sickness mounted into her throat. Her cheek still ached from the slap he’d given her in the cabin for wetting the bunk. She knew he’d do worse if she threw up in his house. She forced herself to swallow the bile back down while he unlocked the door of the grey, concrete building. He held her firmly by one arm.
The door open, he pushed her inside. The room was lit by huge windows that gave a wide view over the ocean. Miranda began to sense how alone she was. There was no one to help her. Her mind was numb. She couldn’t think of anything to say or do. The man pushed her further into the room, where she stood, looking at the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks. She could feel him staring at her. She looked up and shivered at the look in his eyes. Her stomach churned with horror, he wasn’t looking at her as if she was a person but rather as you look at an object that you’ve just got.
Gathering her courage, Miranda was about to talk; to start pleading with him to let her go, when he reached forward and held her with one hand on the back of her neck while his other hand started to fondle her breasts through the thin cloth of her teeshirt.
The girl screamed at his touch. With her hands tied behind her back she was unable to push him away. She twisted her body desperately to get away from him but his grip on her neck was too strong. Miranda raised her knee to try and hit him in the groin but he turned aside so it hit him harmlessly on the thigh. He slapped her viciously on both cheeks with a strength that made her eyes blur.
Before she could realize his hand had dropped to her shirt and he ripped it in half. Then he tugged it so that the shoulder straps broke. He let go of the ruined tee and let it drop to the ground. Miranda was now naked except for her shorts. Still partly stunned from the slaps she hardly reacted as he put his hand on her belly and slipped it down under the cloth of her shorts and panties. In a daze she realized his fingers were on her pubic hair.
She screamed however, when she felt those fingers twist her clitoris and then slide between the lips of her cunt and begin to penetrate her. She twisted desperately to free herself but the grip on her neck was merciless. The man laughed as he slipped two and then three fingers into the mouth of her vagina.
The pressure of his hand and arm pushed her shorts and panties partway down down her thighs. Miranda could feel the back of the shorts slip over the mound of her butt. Soon she would be completely naked. She was overwhelmed by her sense of helplessness and her will to resist suddenly vanished. She found she had no longer the energy to scream and just repeatedly murmured “Please, no” over and over as his assault continued. She felt her legs go weak and it was only the man’s hand on the nape of her neck that kept her on her feet.
When he took both hands away the teenager slumped down onto her knees and swayed from side to side, dizzy with the shock of his assault. She’d never dreamed of this happening to her.
The man was talking, and she found it difficult to concentrate on what he was saying. Then the words began to come together. He was saying that she was his slave that she could only talk when he told her she could. He said that she had to call him “Master” so she needed to realize that he was her master.
“Is that clear?” he asked. When Miranda didn’t reply he slapped her across the face again. Tears sprang to her eyes but she refused to speak. The man realized that she wasn’t ready to submit. He needed to do more to convince her. Turning away he went into a side storage room to get some rope.
The girl was still on her knees when he returned. Fearfully she watched him as he threw one end of the coil of rope over one of the metal beams that ran across the length of the room. As she watched she had a horrible thought. “Don’t hang me! I’ll do what you want!” she pleaded.
He laughed and told her it was too late to stop him. Once again, in her fear, she felt urine run down her thigh. She kept pleading and promising to obey him while he tied the rope to her wrists, still bound behind her back. Once she was securely tied, he grabbed the other end of the rope, where it dangled over the beam and began to pull. Almost immediately her arms were lifted in the air and she felt an intense pain in her shoulders. As the pain increased she scrambled to her feet to relieve the pressure. That worked for a few moments but the man kept pulling on the rope until Miranda was standing on tiptoe while being forced to bend in an effort to reduce the pain on her shoulders. She stayed there, bent over, looking at the floor, her long brown hair covering her face as it hung down.
Just when she felt that her shoulders were going to be dislocated the man gave a satisfied laugh and tied the rope to a metal ring in the wall. He walked over to the girl and tilted her head up, adding to the pain she felt. “Now Slave” he said as he looked her in her red rimmed eyes “If you want to avoid a life on constant pain you have to learn to do what you are told to do the moment I tell you. You will say “Yes Master” and be happy to do it. I will now beat you so that you will understand.” Deliberately the man undid his leather belt and pulled it free of his pants.
The thought of further pain was too much for the girl and, despite her disgust and reluctance she said “Please Master you don’t have to beat me. I’ll do what you want. Please untie me.” The man grinned unpleasantly. “You haven’t learned Slave. You never ask your Master for something. You’re not ready to be untied.”
At that Trav walked round behind Miranda and she felt him pull her shorts and panties all the way down her legs. She was already flinching at the thought of being beaten with that leather belt. For a few moments nothing happened. The teenager didn’t realize that her captor was enjoying the sight of her swelling, naked butt cheeks and the smooth tapering of her legs.
She gasped as she felt his hands on her body, fondling her. She moaned as she felt him pull her arse cheeks apart and slide his two thumbs into her anus, pulling and stretching it. Did it mean that he was going to rape her there? She’d heard that sometimes men liked that. She knew that it would hurt. Once more she begged him not to hurt her but his only answer was a laugh.
At last he pulled his thumbs out and Miranda waited to feel his penis probe her there. She wondered how big he was, how much it would hurt her. Would he tear her and make her bleed?
But then a sudden sharp pain across both cheeks as the belt lashed her tender flesh. She cried out in pain and then again and again as blows from the leather strap rained down on her arse and her thighs.
After a while her screams sunk to moans as the waves of pain from the beating, from her shoulders and her legs, as she balanced on her toes, all joined in an agony that began to overwhelm her. She was scarcely aware when the beating stopped. The man untied the rope from the wall and lowered her back onto her knees. She slumped sideways but was held up by the rope which he reattached to the ring in the wall.
The naked, abused girl hung there with no thoughts in her brain, just the throbbing in her limbs and the sting left by her whipping with the strap. She drifted in and out of consciousness until a sudden deluge of cold water hit her face, dragging her back into her horrible reality. She realized that she needed to do what the man wanted, at least until she could find a way to escape. She would pretend to submit by doing what he wanted until he relaxed and gave her a chance to get away.
“Sit up straight Slave” the man ordered. “Do you understand that you exist only to please your master?” Miranda nodded her head. “Speak up Slave!” he yelled. Terrified of another beating Miranda stuttered a “Yes Master” between gritted teeth. Trav understood that she was still not fully broken. He hadn’t expected seventeen years of her previous life being forgotten so quickly.
He needed to keep humiliating the girl until she submitted body and soul to his command. “Unzip my pants” was his next order. His captive was confused. How could she do that with her hands tied behind her back? She knew that, if she refused or questioned him he’d hurt her again. That she had learned.
The man was impatient “With your mouth you stupid bitch.” He moved his body closer to her thrusting his thighs almost into her face. Desperate to avoid further punishment the girl used her lips to lift the tag of the zipper and then grip it in her teeth to tug it down. She had to do it several times before she moved the zipper any distance, but finally it was done. With disgust she could smell his groin - a mixture of sweat and urine.
Her captor put his hand into the open fly and pulled out his penis. It was already erect. That close to her face it looked huge. Without thinking Miranda turned her head away. The man grabbed her hair and yanked her face back. He brushed his shaft against her cheeks. She felt it’s warmth. Then he pushed it against her lips and ordered her to kiss it and then to suck it. She recoiled but managed to master her disgust in order to do as he told her. The smell of urine was almost overwhelming and she felt his prick swell even more as her tongue brushed against it.
She forced herself to keep it in her mouth until he pulled it out and let go of her hair. She gasped for breath and swallowed to try and get the taste of him out of her mouth. While she was doing that she felt a tug on her arms and realized that the rope was being tightened forcing her to stand up again.
Once she was on her feet, bent over by the pressure of the rope so that she was looking down at the floor he tied the rope off. Miranda wondered what was next. Was he going to beat her again, even though she’d done everything he’s demanded? She didn’t have long to wait before she found out his intention. He ordered her to spread her legs and she did as he demanded. She heard him spit and felt the wet saliva hit her anus. Then there was a pressure on that small hole. A pressure that got more and more painful. Miranda forgot that she was pretending to be an obedient slave and started protesting and wriggling her rear from side to side.
She felt him grip her ass cheeks firmly and then she screamed as he thrust his engorged shaft into her rectum. She had never felt pain like that before; she could feel her muscles tear as he forced his way deeper into her. He withdrew a little and then thrust again forcing another scream from the tortured teen. For minute after minute he continued thrusting as he penetrated deeper and deeper into her violated rectum. The pain was incredibly intense and only worsened as he penetrated further into her body.
After what felt like an eternity, Miranda felt the rhythm of his thrusts building faster and faster and so did her screams. Then one final thrust, the deepest of them all and he held it there. The girl could feel his penis quiver as he shot his semen into her arse.
Miranda forgot the pain in her shoulders that came from the rope holding her up. She could only feel the agony of the vicious penetration. She hung from the rope moaning and sobbing with pain and humiliation. He was right, he could do anything he wanted with her and she couldn’t stop him.
As his penis shrunk and slid back out of her, lubricated by a mixture of blood and semen, Trav stood up with a satisfied sigh. Her tightness and her screams had both stimulated him. Now it was time to continue to humiliate her, to break her down. It was obvious from her protests and her screams that she hadn’t yet surrendered her body to him. He walked round to stand in front of his captive as she swayed on her feet, her head hanging limply towards the floor.
Grabbing a handful of her hair, Trav pulled the girl’s head up so that she was looking at him. “Time to clean my prick” he said, waving it in front of her eyes, “Open your mouth so that you can suck it clean.” He saw the girl’s eyes widen as she looked at his penis streaked with blood, shit and semen. He could see that she was about to resist so he slapped her across the face.
The resistance left her, and, obediently, she parted her lips. He slid his meaty member into the warm opening of her mouth and felt her tongue begin to lick as her lips closed. Trav knew that he was getting close to his goal. The girl sucked and licked without seeming to react with disgust.
When he was satisfied, Trav told her to stop and to open her mouth. He stood back admiring his new acquisition. He’d done well. Realizing that he hadn’t spent enough time exploring her body, he untied her wrists, holding her so that she didn’t collapse on the floor. Her freedom was short-lived as he retied her wrists in front of her body and, with the rope that hung over the beam, hauled her up so that, once again, she was hanging with only her toes touching the floor. This time however, with her arms over her head, her entire body was open to his gaze, to his hands and mouth, to his desires and whims.
He walked slowly around his captive, enjoying the view of her naked body from every angle. He took him time to appreciate what he’d captured. She was slender but still superbly curved. Her body tapered from her shoulders to her waist and then flared out to her hips before tapering again to her thighs and long, smooth legs. Her arms, too, were long and well shaped. Her breasts were small but firm and with well formed nipples. Her hair was long and, with her head drooping forward, fell to touch her breasts. He put his hand under her chin to lift her face. He mouth was full and her lips were naturally red. Her eyes were large and brown. At the moment they looked unfocussed. He judged that she was at the end of her strength. It shouldn’t take too long before she accepted that she was his slave. It might even be before the night was through.
He ran his hands over her soft, flawless skin and teased her nipples until they responded. The girl still hung there, almost unaware of what he was doing. “What’s your name?” he asked suddenly, jolting her out of her semi-unconscious state. Without thinking she began to say “Mir” when the word was cut short by a slap. “Slave” he hissed and slapped her again. “What’s your name?” he repeated. Miranda shook her head to try and focus and saw his hand raised again.
“Slave” she managed to cry out before his hand hit her cheek. “Again” he snarled and forced to say “slave” over and over again. Trav looked at her thoughtfully but wasn’t convinced that she was totally submissive. He left her hanging there and went outside. The salt air cooled him down after his activity with the girl. He wanted a strong pliant sapling to use to beat her some more. After some searching he found one that was growing out of a crevice in the granite rocks. Using his knife he cut it and peeled off the twigs and the bark. He was satisfied with the sound it made as he swung it back and forth.
Going back inside, he lifted the girl’s face with his hand under her chin. “Who am I?” he asked. This time she made no mistake and called him “Master.” He then said that he was going to whip her and, each time he whipped her she was to say “Thank you Master.”
The whipping started, first on her rump where the bruises from her beating with the belt were beginning to show. He made sure not to break her skin. Cuts would heal but he didn’t want her to be scarred. After a few reminders the poor girl managed to say “Thank you Master” after each lash. After a few minutes he started to lash her belly and breasts. He increased the speed of the strokes, hardly leaving her time to catch her breath before needing to speak again.
When his arm got tired Trav stopped. He went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. The exercise had made him thirsty. He wandered back wondering what to do next. Her total submission and nothing less was his goal. Making his decision he untied the rope from the wall and lowered the girl slowly. She slumped to her knees and then continued to fall until she was lying full length on the floor. She lay there unmoving as he untied the rope from her wrists and retied it to her ankles.
When her ankles were secure he hauled the rope back until her legs and lower body were in the air. This put the soles of her feet at the height he wanted. He started to beat the soles of her feet with the peeled sapling. From all he’d read, he knew that the pain would course through her entire body. However the girl didn’t move or cry out as she lay, face down on the floor.
Satisfied, he stopped the beating. Kneeling down he lifted her head by the hair. She was still conscious. “You are my slave. If you make me angry I’ll beat you. If you please me I’ll feed you and treat you kindly. Let’s see if you’ve learned your lesson.”
Trav untied her ankles and lowered her legs to the floor. He picked her up and threw her limp body over his shoulder. He carried her to a side room and unlatched a metal door that, back in the 1940s had held the ammunition for the guns mounted outside. He slid the girl’s naked body off his shoulder and rolled her through the opening, closing and latching the door behind her. He would give her some time in the pitch dark to come to her senses. In a couple of hours he would see if she had been broken to service.
The hours were filled with emptying the boat and bringing his supplies back to the building. There were some cans of gasoline for the generator and two tanks of propane. A catchment tank had been installed for rainwater which was usually filled without much trouble so he didn’t have to bring water from the mainland. He’d only brought food for one person but he always had canned emergency stocks for the times that storms made it too risky to go ashore. He thought that he’d keep the girl in the ammunition locker at night until he was certain that she accepted her slavery. He’d put a mat in there for her. Later, before winter, he’d have to think about clothes for her but he’d keep her naked for some time.
When the hours had passed, Trav unlatched the locker door and ordered the girl out. She came immediately, staying on all fours until he told her to stand. She managed to get upright but winced from the pain of her feet. To each order he gave, Trav used the word “slave” and the girl acted as if it was natural.
After her experience and the dirt she’d been in in the locker, he decided that he wanted her washed before he fucked her. Ordering his slave to follow he went to the modern bathroom that he’d installed a few years earlier. He told her to go into the shower, clean herself and shampoo her hair. She did exactly as he ordered and then toweled herself dry afterwards. When he asked her what she should say she lowered her eyes and said “Thank you Master.”
For the first time Trav smiled at her. “A slave who always obeys her master will not be beaten. I will beat you if you do not obey me. Now follow me.” He turned away and led her to the side room where he slept. He ordered her to lie on the bed and open her legs. Without hesitation the girl did as he ordered.
Her master took off his clothes and lay on top of her. She gave a slight gasp at the sensation of his shaft sliding between the lips of her cunt and into her dry channel. The man gave a grunt of pleasure as he felt her tight muscles grip his penis. The girl offered no resistance, no tensing as he began the rhythm of his thrusts. He gave another grunt, this time of surprise, as he felt her hymen resist the tip of his prick. A beautiful girl, this old, and still a virgin! He hadn’t expected that.
Suddenly the reflexes of her body took possession of the girl as he felt her respond to his penetration. Her hips began to flex but not in resistance. Her spirit had broken under the pain that he inflicted and, with her surrender, he had reduced her to her animal responses. She was like a dog that had been so cowed by its owner that its only thought was to please its master and avoid punishment. Somehow her body understood that this would please her master. Her body was abandoned to its sexual response.
***
It was three weeks later that the next consignment of coke arrived. Trav piloted his boat out to sea, visiting some of his lobster traps on the way in case the Coastguard was on patrol. The run was clear and the drugs, already packed in the convenient shaped packages. were lowered into the boat. Trav turned and motored back to the island. He put the lobsters into a saltwater tank and left the drugs on board, stowed under the bunks. With a good nights work, that would make him twenty thousand dollars richer, he climbed back up the path to the concrete building which loomed a dark block against the starry sky.
He opened the door and there was his slave, on her knees, as he liked to find her. “Coffee, Slave” he commanded and, with a quiet “Yes Master” she got to her feet and went to obey. With pleasure he watched the naked silhouette of the girl as she walked to the kitchen. Her hips swayed with a natural grace that always roused his desire. It would be a shame when he had to have her clothed during the winter. He would have to choose her clothes with care so that she would still be exciting to look at. Online shopping was the way to go.He’d been afraid that, with time, he’d get used to her and be bored. That certainly hadn’t happened yet.
Trav sat in his favorite armchair and relaxed. The girl came back with the coffee, hot. She had studied his likes and his needs and tried always to be ready. That way she would avoid being punished but, more importantly, she would please him. She lived to please him.
She placed the coffee on the table beside his chair. Her master opened his legs and the beautiful teenager dropped to her knees. With her tongue and her teeth she unzipped his fly and then slipped her soft hands into the opening to find his shaft. With gentle fingers she stroked it and roused his testicles to intense feeling. Then, when his penis was long and strong, she moved her face forward and took it into her mouth, letting her tongue continue in her mission to bring him to an orgasm.
Trav closed his eyes as he enjoyed her stimulation. The girl had become incredibly skilled since he’d got her. He couldn’t avoid giving a deep grunt of pleasure as she completed her task. The girl smiled as she heard it. She knew he was please with her. Her pleasure would be complete if he let her stay in his bed for the night, rather than having to lie alone on the rug. She knew that he would never love her.Softly, as a sign of her submission and her devotion, she rubbed her cheek against his thigh, delighting in the feel of his hands as they stroked her hair. A master would not love a slave. But a slave could love her master.
