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From: "H. Jekyll" <h_jekyll2000@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Submission: "Silent, Chapter Three"
Date: Tue, 18 Apr 2000 03:10:06 -0400
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Copyright by H.Jekyll.
Permission is freely granted to post on any
non-commercial site (meaning a site that does not
charge for entance), as long as proper attribution is
given. The story should not be read by anyone under
the legal age to read sexually explicit stories, or by
anyone in a location where it is illegal to read such
stories. Send comments, inquiries, requests, and
criticisms to: h_jekyll2000@yahoo.com.
The story is a multi-chapter tale of great cruelty, in
the kidnapping-and-domination genre. Further chapters
will follow.
The following story codes refer to the series, not an
individual chapter:
MF, Ff, MFf, nc, MDom, BD, SM, some scat, etc.
__________________________________________________
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<1st attachment, "Silent, Ch. three.txt" begin>
Silent H. Jekyll
Chapter Three: Domination
"Can you be an obedient little girl?" She finally noticed that he was
talking. She was hardly there, but she did try to nod. Did she? He was
saying something she couldn't follow. Someone's shoulders hurt. She
didn't notice the shit anymore.
She did notice that he was scrubbing her with a warm, wet cloth. He
washed her face gently, and when she smelled the water she tried to touch
it with her tongue. "Don't do that! It's filthy." She tried to keep her
tongue in her mouth, to resist the moisture. Oh, it was so alluring. She
managed to keep her mouth closed while he washed her hair.
She wasn't there again, then was again and found that her legs were
untied. Her arms were being loosened. She fell outright this time,
pulling her arms up, screamed the most beautifully agonized scream, and
passed out again.
When she came around this time she was again lying on a bed or
something, but she was spread-eagled, her arms bound to two corners and her
legs to the others. She was blindfolded and ear-plugged, but the gag was
gone. Her shoulders hurt but she wasn't tied rigidly. Primarily she was
crazy for water. She couldn't swallow. When she moved her tongue in her
mouth it came away dry. She kept opening and closing her mouth, trying to
get a feel of liquid. Her lips were dry and chapped. She writhed her body
on the bed, passed out again, and awoke from a dream in which she was
drinking and drinking the coldest water, but not slaking her thirst. It
didn't matter what he had said about speaking. She would ask for water.
But she couldn't, not really. The parts of her throat and mouth didn't
move together as they should. She finally whispered "wha-der."
He pulled out the ear plugs, to speak to her. "I have water for you.
Open your mouth only a little." After her mouth was open he did something
with a container, then bent over her. He pressed his mouth against hers
hard, formed a seal, and blew a mouthful of water into her. The breath of
life. She coughed, then swallowed and swallowed. More! He pulled his
mouth away, then leaned back over and did it again. She couldn't get
enough. That beautiful, despicable mouth! After the second mouthful she
reached for his mouth with hers when she felt him leaning close. He kept
his mouth on hers after she swallowed, and sucked on her tongue. She moved
her tongue against his, moved her lips over his. Then he brought her more
water, and they kissed again. She didn't know what she was feeling. After
so long a time with no sensations except her pains, no vision and no
hearing, a soft, wet tongue and lips were appetizing. He was gentle with
her. She felt grateful, and she didn't want it to stop, though she knew he
was a demon. She didn't know how to resist.
He let her take as much water as she wanted, bending over her again and
again, kissing deeply each time, until her stomach hurt with the pressure
of the water.
She heard some rustling and then felt him kneeling between her legs. He
began lubricating her vagina, taking a long time with labia, clitoris, her
hole, pulling and caressing with more and more goop. She started feeling
pleasure and tried to hold herself still.
He entered her with his big salami of a penis and began fucking very
slowly. There was so much pressure in her, and as before his prick punched
her cervix when he pushed all the way in. She could not see him, or feel
him with her hands, and her sex was where she was receiving stimulation.
He began kissing her deeply again and she responded. She had to, and she
wanted to. She sucked on his lips and let him have her tongue again and
didn't try to draw it back when he bit it, though she made a sound
somewhere between a moan and a cry when he did it. This withholder and
provider of water, this demon controller of misery and pleasure. He played
lightly with her nipples, tickled her arms very slowly, from her wrists to
her arm pits, then licked her pits. She became hot. She was afraid if he
knew he was pleasuring her he would stop, but she was breathing fast into
his mouth and now she was moving her hips against his.
He came, pushing deeply into her while he did, then lay on her for a few
minutes before pulling out of her. She lay quietly, hoping he would
continue, do anything to keep the sensations going. Her pussy felt empty,
and she twitched her vagina, tried to move her thighs together, hoping for
some sensation. Nothing. He plugged her ears, turned on the white noise
machine, and left.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
She was alone in the dark and silence a long time again. He left her
long enough for her desire to evaporate slowly, long enough for her to
wonder if he would ever return, to go through two panic periods in which
she struggled with her bonds and screamed unanswered cries for him; long
enough to drift into sex-filled dreams in which her husband was fucking her
but then turned into her captor, who fucked her and fucked her until she
was almost coming.
She was alone long enough for her stomach to begin working. How long
since she'd eaten? Two days? Three days? Now she grew sick with hunger,
her stomach hurt, desire for food overcame sexual desire. Her dreams,
during her drifting periods, were of banquets, filled with the smells of
Thanksgiving. She writhed again, but for food.
When she awoke again her shoulders still ached. He was leaning over
her, pulling at her ear plugs again. "Now you will have part of your
punishment." She froze. No. But he starting whipping her with something
flat. At first she merely jerked and said "oh" with each stroke, but as
time wore on she lost her composure. She bounced her body on the bed,
rolled as far as she could from side to side, screamed with each stroke.
She began begging him to stop, promising to be good. He leaned over and
told her that this would increase the punishment she earned.
He unfastened her arms, sat her up, then fastened them behind her. She
was sobbing those hiccupy sobs again when he knelt down between her legs
again. His penis was at her mouth. She took it in, even while sobbing,
trying to remember how best to pleasure him. The heat and meatiness of it
and the fact that she could suck on it were good, and after a bit she
stopped sobbing. When he came into her mouth, in the same copious
quantities as before, she swallowed quickly, really just wishing there were
more.
Then he fastened her in her original position, inserted the ear plugs,
whipped her some more, and left.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
When next he came to her she felt she was dying. Silly girl! She was
only in misery. He completely loosened her, then fastened her hands
together behind. She needed food. She needed water. She was afraid to
say anything, actually to make any sounds at all. He led her to the
exercise room and made her run the treadmill, hitting her with a crop to
keep her going, so weak was she, until she stumbled off, lay on the floor
gasping, and didn't respond to the crop any more. Then he freed her hands
and made her lift small weights in several different exercises.
He rechained her arms behind her, walked her to the bathroom again, let
her drink from the toilet again, then washed and shaved her. He gave her
another enema but let her empty herself in the toilet. It was all water.
He led her to a room she hadn't seen before. It looked like a
well-appointed dining room. The furniture was dark mahogany, and it sat on
a rich Persian carpet. He made her kneel by a chair at the table and wait,
while he went to the next room. By now all she could think about was food.
Already she was becoming accustomed to being mastered. How long ago was
it - two or three days? - since she had thought she would rescue her poor
daughter? Now she was just a poor, miserable captive herself, with no
control over any part of her existence. If he told her to eat shit, she
did. If he ordered her to suffer silently, she suffered silently. If he
wanted to hurt her beyond her ability to stand the pain, he had shown that
it was easy. If he wanted her to desire being fucked by him, she did that
too, and it was for that, that she loathed herself the most . Though she
didn't really feel much loathing, just a deep, hollow gloom. She was
afraid to hate him.
And now she smelled something cooking! Oh my God! It was bacon and
eggs. Hot spattering grease and butter. Then the smell of toast. Coffee!
She had to make the strongest effort in her life to keep from crawling over
to the door he had gone through. Please don't torture me this way.
He came out with a tray filled with food, an enormous, steaming heap of
scrambled eggs cooked with bits of bacon, toast with butter and preserves,
a pitcher of orange juice, and coffee with cream and sugar. He sat down
and proceeded to eat right in front of her. She knelt rigidly upright,
just like a dog who has been trained to sit pretty. She couldn't take her
eyes off the food. She smelled it with breaths so deep they made her
dizzy. But she didn't move and she didn't talk. She thought that would
please him. She was right.
After a bit he dabbed his mouth and said, "You are learning to be
obedient and disciplined. It's time to let you eat a little." He gestured
for her to move right up to him and lean toward him. He took a large
mouthful of eggs. He chewed them a bit, then leaned over to her. He put
his mouth on hers tightly, then pushed and spat a mush of bacon and eggs
into her mouth.
She could see what was coming and didn't care. She took the eggs in,
tasted them briefly, and swallowed. It was just like with the water. She
wanted more. He took some orange juice and gave it to her the same way.
It had pulp and was sweet. Masticated toast was next. The taste of the
butter lingered.
His mouth. Never had she desired a mouth on hers so much. She sucked
mashed eggs off his tongue and slurped them down. She ran her tongue over
his teeth to find bits she had missed. When some coffee (rich with sugar
and cream) dribbled down his chin she licked it off. He gave her several
mouthfuls of each item. Of course they kissed deeply between bites, which
slowed down the eating. It was not nearly enough, though already her
stomach felt full. Then he spoke.
"This is how you will eat. Your food will come out of me. If I am busy
I will serve you something in a dog bowl. If you are defiant, or stupid,
you will not eat. Do you have anything you want to say, now?"
To say? She was flabbergasted. She had never expected this. She
didn't know how to address him. He hadn't instructed her. She finally
decided that she should call him "master," to be safe.
"Master. Is my daughter alive? Will I see her?"
He chuckled and caressed her face, then a breast. "Master? That's a
nice touch. Of course your daughter's alive. You'll see her in due time.
You need to earn that, by pleasing me. Now we'll go back to your room"
She had to ask him one more thing. It might help her, but it might
bring more pain. She screwed up her wee courage and asked: "Why do you
hurt me so much?" Her voice was high, soft, plaintive. The voice of one
who didn't want to offend. "I'll do anything you want. I'll be good. You
don't have to do that." He stared down at her, a severe look to his face,
and she shrank down within herself.
Then he smiled. "Oh, we have a bold one, now. Not one question, but
two!" Her breath was fast and shallow. "Well, I'll answer you. It fills
me with pleasure to hurt you, and your purpose is to provide my pleasure,
so that's that. But there are other reasons, too. You have, first of all,
several punishments unfulfilled, and we have some catching up to do. There
is, secondly, the fact that you will be more obedient if your memory of the
bite of the whip, or whatever, is fresh, as you'll know it could always be
worse." During this, her face had grown more and more grim, and her whole
body had slumped. "And finally, birthing has never been an easy process.
The new you that will come from this will be so much more willing and
compliant, even eager to please and follow instructions. You'll scarcely
recognize yourself. This is the hardest time for you, because you're still
fighting against your need to submit completely and permanently. But
you'll come around. You'll see. And when you do you'll have pleasure that
you never even dreamed about."
Nothing else was said. There was hardly a need to. He walked her back
to her cell, in the middle of which were stocks.
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