Polly pushed a stray lock of her hair under her beret. She felt awfully frowsty and wished she had at least washed her hair before she had to dash out to organise the shopping for Danny's visit this evening. She'd been scooting round all day, dashing here, rushing there. She wanted it to be perfect for him and the kids. Why was it that her men always had to come completely equipped with a whole trainload of emotional baggage? Danny was no different. The detritus of his past stretched behind him, on the highway of his life, like the contents of a badly secured 'u-haul'. Not only that, but he had managed to take time out to father two kids. A boy and a girl. Four and five. They lived with their mother, but Danny had visiting rights and today, was one of his 'bonding' days, as he put it. She had had very little to do with children. If the truth be told she kept well out of the way of them. Anarchic, dirty, noisy and demanding they didn't fit in with her lifestyle one little bit. But she'd try her best for Danny's sake. Hence the shopping dash. So she was considerably irritated to find the supermarket aisle blocked by a group of people watching the pitch of a sales promoter. It was some sort of candy bar. She couldn't see exactly what, and she cared even less, as she tried to nudge her way through the throng. "....there's one lady that looks like she should take time out and relax with one of our Reverie-bars." Polly noticed the people in the aisle looking at her and she realised that she was the centre of the Salesman's repartee. Flushing furiously, in anger more than anything, she attempted to push her trolley harder against the legs of the milling crowd. "Here." Proffered the salesman who had jumped down from his small dais and was offering her a garishly packaged candy bar. "Try this." "No thank you." She said tartly. "Its free!" "I don't care." Then she noticed the looks on the faces of the other shoppers. She was acting like a little churlishly, she reasoned. After all it was just a chocolate bar. So when he said, "Are you sure?", she assented to try it. She felt very self conscious as she unpeeled the wrapper and feigned not to notice the smirk on the face of a sweating fatman in the crowd as her lips closed around the bar. After she popped the last morsel in her mouth the crowd magically parted before her and she continued towards the check out lines. Imagining the stares of the crowd on her back as the salesman again started his patter. She packed her bags in the trunk and went to start the car. Her head started swimming and she was finding it more and more difficult to concentrate. What on earth was wrong? It felt like the effects of low blood sugar, she hadn't had time to eat yet today, but then she'd just had a candy bar. Maybe it would take time for the sucrose to kick in. She shook her head but it just made her dizzier. Just before she passed out the door flew open and the Chocolate salesman was there, pushing her into the passenger seat of her car. She tried to protest, to resist, but her muscles wouldn't function and her world dissolved into darkness. ******************************************************** The darkness slowly gave way to light. A flickering light, that danced before her eyes. She tried to move her body from out of its uncomfortable position. She panicked as she found she was unable to move her limbs. Fighting the enveloping mist, tendrils of which still whisped ethereally, through her head, she tried to look around. But soon realised that her head had been pushed through some kind of padded hole which had been closed around her neck, imprisoning her in its unyielding embrace. Her hands, which fluttered uselessly each side of her head, were similarly bound. She was naked and goosebumps sprang up all over her body in response to the dank chill of the stone clad room. Fighting down her rising fear, she tried to take stock of her situation. How had she got here? Who had undressed her? The unanswered questions tumbled through her befuddled mind. She blushed at the thought of unknown, and unseen, assailants stripping away her clothes. An irrational thought flew through her head, had she remembered to wear clean underwear? But it disappeared, just as quickly, to be replaced by the chilling certainty that she was being held prisoner and she was helpless to prevent whatever fate they had in store for her. The flickering was annoying her, but it was all pervasive, sitting, as it was, in the epicentre of her gaze. It was a television. It could have been a computer monitor of course but she'd never seen one that size before. It dominated her vision, impinging on her consciousness to the exclusion of all else. The centre of the screen was taken up by a slightly sideways view of a pair of buttocks. She twitched her left cheek in response to the cold and she realised, with a start, that it was her backside she was looking at. Again she clenched her butt only to have it echoed, faithfully on the screen. Her fear now took wings. This was so perverted, being made to stare at her own butt like this. She could see her pussy, a fuzzy framed, vertical gash bisecting her body. It looked so gross, so obscene. She tried to look away, to close her eyes, anything to take her mind off the vision in front of her. But it was no good and it was with a curious blend of intrigue and loathing that she again found herself studying her nether regions. She'd never really seen her pussy before. Certainly not from this angle. It was not, to her mind, a beautiful thing. But it was, she acknowledged, a marvel of functionality and purpose. The extreme angle of her legs made sure that her outer lips had been pulled, unceremonially apart, leaving her inner lips bare and defenceless. She studied them, more to take her mind of her future, than anything else. It still seemed vaguely dirty somehow, studying her own genitalia, but fascinating all the same. It was like sneaking a look at yourself in the mirror in an elevator. Impossible to resist, but mildly embarrassing all the same. She had never realised how small it actually was, at rest as it were. She was surprised, flattered even, that this tiny little hole was able to accommodate Danny's particularly large organ so pleasurably. Her clitoris was buried between the fluted lips that looked like the pale, pink, petals of a sea anemone. But she could make out the shape of it pushing against her folds like it was questing for the touch of a male finger, or organ, or..... She shuddered. She couldn't let herself get aroused. That would be so gut wrenchingly shameful. To watch herself moisten and open in front of her own humiliated gaze. 'Try to think of something else.' She told herself. Then she remembered Danny. How long had she been here? He'd be frantic. She hoped he'd called the Police. Maybe they were on their way now. A futile hope, but one that helped buoy her spirits. The party was ruined that's for sure, but at least she wouldn't have to put up with Danny's brats. Be thankful for small mercies. She cut her mind free and let it float. To try and distance herself from the immediate which was pressing down on her like bands of iron around her chest. She thought of Danny. Strong, handsome, resolute Danny. The thrust of his chin, the warmth and depth of his dark brown eyes, the insistent hardness of his body. God that man was beautiful. She had been looking forward all week to her night of passion with him. They didn't get together much, he was always jetting around visiting parts of his far flung global empire. Sometimes she wondered if he had a cache of girls like her, one in each city. Six in all, she reasoned, because even he would need one day of rest a week, surely. She knew it was irrational but it was part of her genetic makeup and, although she considered herself to be a thoroughly modern woman, she couldn't help but feel slight twinges of uncertainty at his prolonged absences. She had never pegged herself as the green eyed envious type, before she'd met him. She was a professional woman, steely in her focus. So she had never even considered letting down her shields to admit a man within the bastion of her inner self before. Not that she was a prude. She liked sex as much as the next woman and she revelled in her mastery in the bedroom and the soaring freedom of her pleasures. But it was usually on a casual basis. A quick fling to quell the beast of her desire, which was then safely tamed and thrust back into its cage. Until the next time. Danny had changed all that. He was a marvellous lover. Sometimes hot and passionate, insatiable in his lust. Other times he was gentle and teasing, causing her to float into uncharted galaxies of pleasure. She smiled, despite the seriousness of her situation as she remembered the last time. He was so powerful, so unstoppable, so....... Her eyes flew open in dismay. She was doing exactly was she promised herself she would not do and, as if to emphasise the point, she saw her lips engorging and opening in moist surrender. Oh god no! Her humiliation made her shudder, but her body ignored her mind as she watched herself unfold delicately, like a flower greeting the dawn sun. She felt a slight flutter on her body, like a mild zephyr, then the screen defocused suddenly as something intruded onto her vision. Simultaneously she felt, and saw, a hand. Undoubtedly a male hand, gently caressing her left cheek. "Let me go you bastard." She shouted, but the hand kept its own counsel, contenting itself with a constant rubbing and fondling of her bottom. She tried to turn to see him, but the stocks were too high, she could see nothing behind her, except that which her captors had deemed to allow her to. The hand became more purposeful and creative. Now the fingers delved into the crease of her privates. Rubbing up and down, tracing a path around the tight brown star of her anus, before sinking boggily into the soft wet morass of her gash. She moaned, as much in shame as arousal, as he inserted his finger inside her. She could see his digit sink deeply within her, with her body offering no resistance to its rigid insistence. He pumped in and out a few times, twisting his finger to reach unexplored parts of her vagina and she felt her lust start to increase. Just as she was starting to climb the long slippery slope towards her climax it withdrew and contented itself with gently rubbing her bud. Normally she loved having her clit played with, she did it herself often enough, but this was so perverse it nearly made her want to throw up. But still her arousal grew. Now she could see her wetness on his finger and the shine of her juices that were forming onto the entrance of her pussy. It gaped like a deep, dark cavern in front of her horrified eyes, as the hand conquered her. Then, just as suddenly as it appeared it was gone. She heard faint footsteps in the room and the metallic grating of a lock being turned. She was left alone with her self loathing and her unabated lust. ************************************************************* They kept doing that for hours. By now she realised that there were more than one captor, there was even a female. They came in and silently teased her, playing purposefully and unheedingly with her lower body until the forest of her resolve gave way to the foothills of her climax. Then they left, invariably leaving her sobbing in a stew of sexual passion and unrelenting shame. At first the horror of potential rape clouded her mind. She was kneeling defencelessly, with her legs bound wide on some kind of padded bench, with her pussy at the perfect height for comfortable penetration. At least from an assailants viewpoint. With each successive fondling, however, her fears started to give way to unwanted feelings of longing. Her body screamed out for release. She looked over at her pussy, blood red and glistening, a beacon drawing her eye to the centre of the screen. In her mind it beckoned. Take me, enter me, thrust deeply within me, but please, please fulfil me. She could see inside herself, at the wet pulsing walls of her womanhood as it sought solace in the satisfying rigidity of a rampant cock. But it was not to be. The teasing went on. Unrelentingly. While she craved release from the prison of her arousal. There was to be no release. ******************************************************** "Please let me up. I must pee." She moaned as the finger again diddled. It stopped and withdrew. Then a large white object was placed behind her. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the new depth of field but then she realised, to her horror, that it was a bucket. He was expecting her to urinate in a bucket, in front of her own eyes. She couldn't, she just couldn't, it was so perverse! The bucket was twisted slightly, as if to say get on with it. Still she couldn't. The bucket disappeared and the hand again intruded on her sex. Again her desire multiplied factorially. She succumbed finally. She had to go. The pressure on her bladder was too great. She pleaded for the bucket and was reassured when its clean, white plastic shape again materialised on the screen. Her pee spurted in a golden arc from her body, splattering noisily inside the bucket. The pleasure of her release gave way to the renewed pleasure of arousal as the finger returned. *********************************************************** She had lost count of the number of times that she had been molested as she hung miserably in her bondage. Her whole being was now focussed between her legs and the urgency that pervaded her body. The crack of the paddle startled her. Then the pain traumatised her nervous system, overwhelming her with its fiery heat. "Yeeeeeeow!" She cried. She could see the angry red stripe across her asscheeks, in harsh counterpoint to the paleness of her skin. CRACK! "Yeooooow!" And so it went on. ************************************************************** If anything the aftermath of her paddlings increased her libido until she felt she was losing her mind. Her ass, empurpled and sore looking, gazed mockingly at her from the screen. And her pussy gaped wantonly. She'd do anything, give herself willingly. Make any concession, trade any favour, just to be released from her sexual prison. She wanted to be fucked! Crude, bestial, primeval. Slam it into her. Take her forcibly, roughly. Pound away at her, plunder her. Plumb her depths. Force her open. Use her as a cumbucket. Take her like a slut. They could do what they wanted. Just so long as they fucked her. Please. *************************************************************** The dildos came next. Huge rubber intrusions, heavily veined and wickedly curved. Pumping inside her. Drawing her higher, playing on her jangling nerves, as she strained for release. But they knew. They always knew. And release was denied to her. *************************************************************** She moaned as the vibrator pulsed inside her. It must have been hours, may even have been days, that she had tried to cope with its unyielding presence within her. Ten seconds on, thirty seconds off. She counted the "Mississippis" until her next bout of teasing buzzing. Hoping against hope that she would be able to climb the Olympian heights towards her blessed relief. But it was not to be. **************************************************************** The end came, like in most drawn out affairs, with a bit of a shock. She had long given up any thoughts of getting satisfaction. Now she hung limply in her bonds, her ass a mass of purple weals, her pussy grasping the embedded vibrator like a talisman. Her self assurance had long gone. Blown away like chaff in the midst of her need. She was no longer Polly the go ahead career girl. Now she was Polly the cunt, begging for fulfilment. Her focus was shot, her icy resolve had deserted her. Now she moaned in hopelessness as the vibrator was withdrawn. ......To be replaced by a cock. Suddenly her world came alive as she struggled to come to terms with it. It was true! A glorious, glorious truth. She watched the cock pushing inside her. Then, with no hesitation, it started pumping. Harder and harder, a pink blur in front of her defocused eyes. The power of his thrusts took over her whole being as her dam of her lust broke at last and the tsunami burst over her in waves of almost inhuman pleasure, as she experienced the first of a series of shattering orgasms. Again and again it pounded. Never pausing, never ceasing. A perfect precision instrument. Sending her soaring into paradoxisms of lust as each successive orgasm sent her spinning higher and higher. Finally, with one superhuman lunge, the cock rammed inside her and released. She could feel the waves of sperm splashing inside her seeking out every cranny in her spasming cunt. It pushed her over the edge into her most violent, and overwhelming, orgasm ever. After a slight pause she heard, dimly through her post coital haze, the sound of locks being undone and suddenly she was free to move her head for the first time in hours. She didn't have the strength to get up but hung limply in the stocks. Shattered by the power of her release. Suddenly someone knelt before her, squatting lightly on his heels. It was Danny. "Hi Pol." He said as casually as if he had met her in the street. "Ooh Danny." She murmured softly. "Enjoy it?" "What?" She croaked. "My little game. The kids couldn't come yesterday so I arranged for a little game for you. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did." "Game? All this was a game?" A mere whisper. "Sure it was. You didn't think it was real did you? Silly girl." He paused for a second. "By the way what did you think of the chocolate? I've just started making it, do you think it will catch on?"