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Subject: {ASSM} Silent, Chapter Eight
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Copyright by H.Jekyll. Permission is freely granted
to post on any site that does not charge for entrance,
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. A final chapter
will follow.
The following story codes refer to the series, not an
individual chapter:
MF, Ff, MFf, nc, MDom, BD, SM, some scat, etc.
---------------------------------------------------
Silent
H. Jekyll
Chapter Eight, "Change"
She had held the water for how long? Standing in the
tub, hands cuffed behind, a bowel full of liquid, she
had panted and twisted herself this way and that,
knotted her butt, tightened her anus, holding it in,
while he came and went. Even this made her mad for
sex, even the cramping and the fullness and the worry
that she wouldn't be able to hold it and he would
punish her again.
Days now of almost constant arousal. He wouldn't
provide release. He kept finding ways to keep her
high. And how long had that been? She had orgasmed
once: the water drops kept her high and awake during
her sleep times, and two sleeps ago, in a state of
only half wakefulness she'd climaxed while watching
the tape of herself coming while he fucked her ass.
It had rushed on her almost without warning, like a
summer shower. She'd lost all voice control, making
loud, lovely sex sounds in the room while the orgasm
was prolonged by one drop, then another. She was
lucky he hadn't heard. Then she'd slept heavily for
the first time in forever, turning her body a little
so the drops didn't fall directly on her clitoris,
because she became very sensitive after sex. But by
the time he waked her it was the same again.
There was a routine they followed, which didn't
include her daughter and didn't include much sex. She
thought of her all the time, maternally, sexually,
brutally. Though she knew she had become depraved,
she still wondered at her kissing, sucking, and
whipping her girl. When he played the tapes of those
encounters she watched awestruck. She wondered if the
girl thought of her, and if so, what. She was afraid
she had lost her forever, though as long as both were
here together there was the chance to make it up to
her. And that time would be forever.
The routine was that she spent most of her time in her
chamber, always immobilized and always with the plugs
and white noise machine, usually with the colander
device. He blindfolded her unless he wanted her to
watch the pictures of rape and torture; recently he
had wanted her to do that most of the time. Some
pictures were shown all the time, which made her think
they were favorites of his. Others came and went.
Pictures of her daughter and her were shown often.
When allowed up, she had the toilet and bath, her
exercises, and her feeding. He had stopped feeding
her by mouth so she usually ate something from the dog
bowl. It was as though he was bored with her, bored
with humiliating and hurting her, bored with sexing
her. She tried being extra good for him, but it
didn't help. She thought he must be using the girl
most of the time.
He had started making her sweep, mop, and clean the
rooms she inhabited. This at least made her happy,
because only then and when exercising was she allowed
to use her arms and hands, and she worked hard.
Everyday he found some fault with what she did and
hurt her a little, with pins or a light whip or nipple
clamps, but he didn't hurt her enough to cause her to
make noises. Most of the time she wasn't even tied
down, but simply knelt for him or lay still while he
punished her. She had become a very good slave,
indeed. She would take greater hurts, with grace, if
he would only play with her body. Poor little slave.
She wished her arms were free to clutch her belly, to
help support the liquid that made her look like she
had a bit of gut. He ass muscles were so tired, and
the pressure just didn't stop. She could feel a
dribble of liquid on her thigh.
-----------------------------------------------------
Finally, he let her flush everything from her lower
bowel. This was the first time she had been able to
hold for the entire period, and he was pleased with
her. "You work to submit and to please more fully
than your daughter, more than most of my girls, in
fact. I think it is time to reward you a bit. Oh,
not too much," he chuckled, "I wouldn't want you to
get over stimulated."
He had her get up from the toilet and lean on the
countertop. He usually did this so he could clean her
ass. Today, though, once she was well wiped, he
lubricated her and played with her ass, sliding
fingers far inside her and rubbing them across the
velvety lining within. She was laying with her mons
firmly on the counter top. When he pushed into her it
pushed her down onto the counter and gave her some
pleasure. She was hopeful.
He lay a folded towel under her head, since she
couldn't cushion herself with her arms. She spread
her legs to give him better access, then waited while
he undressed. She hadn't felt his penis inside her
for so long. He stood behind her and played with her
sex. She almost made a sound with her throat. She
was wet, and he entered her pussy, one push all the
way in. She almost grunted, it was so large. It
still surprised her with the pressure, wherever he
used it. And she hadn't had her pussy used almost
since she had arrived here. For some reason he had
stopped using it before anything else. Now he fucked
her for a bit, and she got closer and closer. She
tried to not move. She wanted him not to stop just to
frustrate her.
But she couldn't stop her excitement. She did breathe
faster and faster, and she pushed her ass back against
him and squeezed him with her pussy. He pulled out
and she did whimper in disappointment. "Ha! You
haven't completely learned, have you?" What would he
do? He started spanking her ass. She lay quietly,
trying not to move or respond. He was being playful.
"Good girl. You do try to follow the rules, don't
you? I may have to make harder rules for you." Then
he put his dick up against her anus and pushed. She
pushed out and let him in, and again he went in all
the way, in one push, all the way to bump against the
end of her rectum. He held her down by her waist, one
hand on each side, pushing downward heavily, leaning
on her. Fucking her ass, he was fucking downwards,
his hips splatting against her rear, and the force
banged her sex softly against the counter top. She
came closer. Please don't finish too soon. Let me
come too. She was having difficulty drawing a breath,
with him leaning on her, but she was close. She was
there, almost there, responding to her cramping around
his dick, the force of it bumping against her rectum,
and the pounding of her sex on the counter, and then
she was over and was able to come in quiet sighs
while he finished with her ass.
Sex left her so drowsy. She lay almost asleep,
feeling the pressure in her rear, idly wondering how
much semen her master had shot into her, feeling his
weight push her arms hard into her back and push her
front hard onto the counter. He lay on her after
coming, giving her the contrast of the cold, hard
counter top with his warm, soft body. She would like
to be able to kiss him.
But he got up and made her kneel before him. This
again. She readied herself to suck his penis clean,
the bad work of a slave. He was about half erect, and
when she looked up at him there wasn't any shit to be
seen. She had been clean for him. There was some
shitty smell, and a little taste, but it didn't even
make her gag. She lingered on his penis, hoping to
arouse him again. Maybe he would fuck her again soon.
-----------------------------------------------------
He was doing something different. She was
blindfolded, but not tied down. He led her across the
floor, then for the first time in her captivity he was
walking her up the stairs. After a flight she was
walking on carpet, and they seemed to go up several
flights. She couldn't be sure. The place she was in
had a quiet feel to it. He made her kneel then left
her there for a bit, holding herself still. Then she
heard him return and someone was with him, someone
padding on bare feet. Her daughter?
When he took off the blindfold she saw that she was in
an enormous, lovely room, carpeted, with rich
furniture, decorated with paintings and living, green
plants. Against one wall was an astoundingly large
bed. She had never seen anything like it. There were
at least three torchiere lamps but none was lighted,
and she realized that the room had windows and that it
was a sunny day. She stared up at the windows, seeing
nothing but blue. Oh. Oh my.
She heard a sound and turned her head, and there was
her daughter, also staring at the sky. Her daughter
looked at her for just a moment, then turned her head
away. The daughter had both new and old bruises on
her torso, and a few fresh welts.
"Today you're going to be able to visit a place of
loveliness, my main bedroom. You will play statues,
holding a lovely position for the day. Not a hard
position, but don't disappoint me by moving. I want
you to add to my lovely decorations."
He took the mother first, had her climb onto the bed
and kneel at the left side by the headboard, facing
the center. Her knees were wide apart. He fastened
her feet loosely together and fixed a chain between
her feet and hands. He then placed her daughter
kitty-corner to her and fixed her the same way. They
were facing each other and the daughter tried to look
away.
"No, no, none of that. You'll look straight ahead or
I'll punish you." He looked the daughter in the face.
"And you know that I would enjoy that." He brought
in a large glass of water, which he made the mother
drink down. He got another one for the daughter. He
took the glass away and when he returned he pulled two
ball gags from a pocket. "Now, I can't chance that
you two might talk to each other. I won't tolerate
that." Neither had been gagged for a long time. Then
he walked out, leaving them to look silently at each
other, a still life in flesh.
---------------------------------------------------
The first minutes were not difficult, physically.
They knelt and looked toward each other. The daughter
tried to avert her eyes, the mother to speak with her
eyes. The daughter was more successful until he came
through the room, with a sheaf of papers, and told her
she was building punishment points. So they looked at
each other. The mother tried not to cry. She did
that so easily. But she was here with her daughter
who hated her, and she couldn't communicate at all.
She was sorry she was so weak, and sorry she had hit
her, and she hated herself again, more than her
daughter could possibly know.
The hours were awful. The mother's legs went to
sleep, and she tried to shift around to relieve them
and he caught her moving. Her back and her neck
started to hurt. It was almost impossible to remain
still. She found she had to urinate, then had to go
more, then more. She was wriggling because of this
when he caught her again. The daughter seemed to hold
her position better, but by the end of a few hours she
too was shifting around. They listened for when he
seemed nearby, doing God knows what, to set
themselves, but he seemed to pass through at just
those times that they were moving the most, and he
kept catching them. Of course he cheated.
The mother's bladder became so full that she forgot
about her back and neck. She was staining to keep
from going, but it was so hard, and so uncomfortable,
that she knew she was going to lose. After a time she
couldn't keep still, with the pressure to go building
so. She had always hated being caught in a car on a
long trip, unable to use the restroom, because her
father had seemed sadistic in his unwillingness to
stop. This was worse. She couldn't control herself.
She was going to wet the bed and she couldn't stop
herself. Then she heard a hissing sound and saw her
daughter go with a force that surprised her,
spattering the bed far in front of her. The smell of
urine came to her like a warm mist. Her daughter hung
her head and cried, not trying to hold it in, and the
mother cried in sorrow for her. She wanted to creep
over to her to comfort her, but she was afraid to. It
was another twenty minutes before she wet her corner
of the bed.
When their Master returned the next time he was quiet
with them. He made them get onto the carpet until he
could strip the bed, then he made them each kneel at
the other's corner, with her nose pressed into the wet
mattress, like you would do if training a puppy. They
stayed that way the rest of the day, smelling each
other's urine. He wouldn't let them raise their heads
from it. They each knew he was going to do something
awful to them.
----------------------------------------------------
That evening he removed all their restraints, fed them
from dog bowls, and had them bathe in a bathroom off
the upstairs bedroom. They were in there, together
and alone, so she tried to whisper to her daughter, to
apologize, but her daughter said nothing and kept
looking away from her. When they came out the bed was
made. He had them climb on it and lay side by side on
their stomachs, their hands reaching toward the
headboard. He had a wooden paddle, like the type they
used to use in schools, with holes drilled in it. He
said, "You two have been awful today and have a lot
coming to you. I'm not going to tie you. You're
going to stay in place on your own while I punish you.
Do you have anything you want to say?"
The daughter said: "She was trying to talk to me in
the bathroom." Sharper than a serpent's tooth it was.
The mother just looked at he daughter. She couldn't
respond.
"Well, I suppose she has some extra punishment coming,
doesn't she? I'll let you do it, as a reward." He
let her up and handed her the paddle. "Now hit her
straight down on the rump." The daughter did, and
the force drove the middle of her body into the
mattress, then bounced her part way up again. It was
as bad as the whippings. "Give her another one."
Mother grabbed the bedspread with her hands to hold
herself still. She tried to stay quiet. The daughter
hit her a third time and she raised her head back in
pain, looking something like a coyote baying at the
moon. Oh, it burned. In between she was flexing her
ass muscles, trying to control the hurt, without
success. The fourth hit she almost tried to dodge.
All of her muscles were working under her skin. The
fifth hit she did move.
"Well, you are getting uppity, aren't you? We'll
start these over. But, because your daughter is such
a snitch she'll take them for you and you'll get to
deliver them." At that both mother and a daughter
gasped, and the daughter tried to back away from the
Master.
"No, Master, it isn't fair, it isn't. I was trying to
be good. I was!" She started crying in shock and in
fear, but stood stock still when he stared at her.
Then she crept slowly onto the bed, crying, and
stretched herself down. He pulled the mother up and
handed her the paddle. She stood over her crying
daughter, holding the paddle like a baseball bat,
staring down at her daughter then looking over to the
Master, then down, then she dropped the paddle and
fell at his knees and was wailing.
"Please, Master, don't make me do it. Don't make me
hit my daughter. Please, I'll do anything else you
tell me. Please, she's my daughter, Master. Oh
please don't make me, please don't make me." She was
holding onto his legs and sobbing as though lamenting
the dead, and he seemed in danger of falling. The
daughter was looking over at her with large, wet eyes,
the eyes of a deer caught in the headlights.
He leaned down and started caressing her hair. Again.
Some more. After a few minutes she controlled
herself. "So," he said, "you're not just an
ass-kissing slave, are you? You do care for some
things besides your own pleasures and pains." He
pried her arms gently off his legs, lifted her, held
her to him, kissed her face. Her face was wet. She
wanted to know if she should be grateful to him, or if
he was toying with her.
Perhaps she should be grateful. Perhaps not. He
didn't hurt them anymore. Instead he made them assume
new poses on the bed, kneeling with their hands
fastened behind their heads, their arms pulled back,
thrusting out their breasts like nymphs, or starlets.
He told them they would not get another chance, and
not to move, but he didn't gag them when he left.
They held their poses. Their arms would get tired
soon. She was concentrating on keeping her arms
pulled back when she heard her daughter whisper:
"Thank you, Mother," and then, "I'm so sorry."
---------------------------------------------------
He was ready to play. He let them end their poses,
move, use the bathroom. Then he had them lie down on
the bed, side by side on their stomachs, with their
legs dangling on the floor. He had his broad leather
belt, doubled-over. Once they were down he started
whipping them on their asses and thighs, first one of
them, then the other, one hit on each. He went back
and forth. They jerked with each hit, grabbed the
covers, held their bodies down to the bed as firmly as
they could. At some early point their hands met and
they held each other's hand, and he let them. They
were sharing, but not completely. The mother's ass
was marked with parallel bruises and round welts and
was very sensitive. She wanted to be brave for her
daughter, but it pleased him to hit her where her
daughter had hit her earlier. Almost immediately she
couldn't stop moving and mewling into the bed. She
held her daughter's hand very tightly.
He hit them again and again, deciding to crush them
anew. He never grew tired. He would go on until they
broke or were unconscious.
The mother broke completely first. She went from
mewling to making loud cries, muffled into the
bedspread but still audible. Her daughter grunted
into the bedspread with each hit. But her legs were
trembling and she started moving her ass in a motion
something like fucking, as it burned more and more.
Finally she raised her head and made a keening sound
with a hit, and then she made sounds each time. They
both moved their bodies with the pain which was really
three pains: the initial shock of the belt, the biting
a few seconds after the belt, and the burning. They
lost their grip on each other's hand and forced their
faces into the bed, crying, wetting the spread with
mucus and tears. Each was lost in her own, private
little world of pain, not knowing anything else, just
knowing she couldn't escape it. Each was moving her
legs around, kicking a little, twisting in place,
dying. He whipped and whipped.
When he stopped they kept moving and crying into the
bed. The burning would continue for a long time.
Both had torn skin. He stood quietly until finally
their crying subsided and they merely made little
moans. Then he made them raise their heads. "Don't
move," he ordered, and went off to have dinner.
-----------------------------------------------------
There was no need to pleasure them. He could do that
whenever he wanted. There was no challenge anymore to
making them desire his touch. They had succumbed long
ago. He would, then, just use them in innovative
ways. He made them kneel in front of him; first the
older one, then the younger, sucked on his penis. He
didn't want to come too quickly. He thought he might
have two shots in him tonight. No good to give one
away. He made them lick him, cheek to cheek, as one.
Then he made them get back on the bed, right next to
each other, asses toward him, and started working
their pussies. First the older one, then the younger.
He was always methodical. He used a lot of lubricant
with them, and despite himself he did things that
might bring them pleasure. He always liked pulling on
pussy lips, milking them, and he did that now, but
they were still hurting too much, and were too cowed.
Then he began working their asses. This was fun!
They were so sore that they whimpered when he did it,
even after he threatened them, and they had to
overcome themselves just to stay still. More
lubricant. Ah, the insides of their rectums were so
soft. They had no idea what they were holding in
themselves. He particularly liked the younger one,
because she was smaller and he had to use some force
to get in. He had made her bleed several times -- not
by trying -- then had backed off anal sex to keep from
wearing her out.
This night he started by fucking their pussies, first
the older one. He didn't spend too much time in
either pussy, because this wasn't what he wanted most.
He just wanted to use them in various ways. He
pulled out of the younger one, who still had the
tightest little thing, and went to the older one's
anus. He massaged her ass, making her hurt, and put
his penis up to her anus, saying, "Remember, give me
the maximum pleasure." Then he entered her. She
always cooperated completely. She was so obedient.
While he fucked her poor ass he spanked her, causing
the most lovely high-pitched little cries. It was
amazing how quickly she had forgotten how to control
her voice. He might begin working with her on that
again, and perhaps make her learn how to take still
more. She fucked well, even with him spanking her and
her whimpering at the hurt. If he wasn't careful he
would finish too quickly.
Then on to the younger one. She was very tight, as
usual, but tried to help him. Ah, it was good to
slide all the way into her, past such a tight
sphincter. He fucked her for a bit, then pulled all
the way out. Yes there was some blood again. He went
to her pussy, fucking in there with his prick a little
shitty. Then to the older one's ass, then to her
pussy, too. He was going back and forth, staying
close. He spanked the younger one the next time he
entered her ass. Ahh, what lovely cries! It was time
for his first orgasm. He started fucking her faster
and came gloriously into her.
He pulled out, turned the older one around and
presented his prick to her. She knew what to do.
He'd never had a slave try so hard to please. It
would be a shame to lose her, though she was becoming
boringly predictable. She took his penis into her
mouth and cleaned it of all traces of their combined
shit, mostly her daughter's. She still heaved when
she found any but worked to swallow it nonetheless.
When she was done she held him in her mouth. She
looked sick and glum.
He would take some time to recharge. So, he would
make them love each other for an interlude. "Rise,
and kiss each other sweetly, like you know how to do."
-----------------------------------------------------
The mother thought she couldn't do this, not with her
mouth so filthy. She wasn't sure she wouldn't vomit
yet, and she didn't want to think of what he would do
in that case. Her daughter was reluctant, too. She
came close but didn't kiss. Then he ordered them to
kiss immediately and they did, mouth on mouth, tongue
to tongue. The daughter gagged right in the middle of
the kiss and the mother pulled back. A moment later
they were kissing again, and soon there was almost no
shit smell or taste.
They had no heart in it this time but had to do it.
Their arms were free and soon wrapped around each
other's body, so they held each other and after a bit
became aware that their breasts were touching and
rubbing on each other. They continued to kiss on
demand, and finally they noticed the softness of their
mouths and the sweetness of their tongues, and the
dirtiness of what they were doing, and they were able
to do it full heartedly. They focused on their mouths
and their breasts and tried to screen him out. Their
asses hurt so much, throbbing with heat. Their mouths
were active, pulling on each other, softing each
other, making such a luscious refuge. If only they
could slip into each other's mouths and fall forever.
He couldn't allow that, could he? It was time for
round two. He sat on the edge of the bed and made the
daughter kneel between his legs. She started sucking
and licking him, only slowly bringing him to full
erection. Much work would be required. While she
worked on him, he called the mother over and gave her
the belt. "Now whip her until I come," he said, "and
don't give me any nonsense about her being your
daughter. If you don't do your job then I'll take her
and I'll hurt her more than you ever could, and you
afterward. So start now!"
So she started beating her love again, flogging that
poor battered ass and making her daughter cry onto his
dick while she pumped him up and down and sucked as
much as she could, trying after all just to make him
come, come now, come now! It took him a long time to
come. If not for the beating of the daughter he might
not have done it at all.
-----------------------------------------------------
Still, it wasn't as exciting anymore. It was time to
replace them, to get someone new to introduce to
submission. So one day while they were in their long
period of immobility, he went out and got himself a
young Vietnamese girl. Perhaps she would be too
submissive? Well, he'd find out.
Her roused both of them and brought them to the
punishment room, where he gagged them and fixed their
hands behind their necks. He made them stand against
a wall and told them to stay there until he called for
them. He went out and led in the new girl, still
dressed, shackled, with the ski mask over her head.
He unfastened her as he had the mother, as he had
every captive he'd owned.
She looked around terrified, stared at the two bound
slaves, and backed toward a door. "Come to the middle
of the room and take off all your clothes," he said.
She backed up to the door, and he said, "After you try
to escape I'll punish you severely. Remember that."
Unlike the mother, she screamed and panicked and ran
here and there, even straight at the mother and
daughter, who moved aside to avoid her. He hit her
several times with his long whip before she lost her
wind and fell to the floor. Then on his command she
got up red faced and stripped, crying loudly the whole
time, calling for her mother. She looked to be about
sixteen, with smallish breasts but such a lovely lean
body and long black hair. She had almost no body
hair.
Once she was strung up, he called the mother and
daughter over. He removed shackles and gags and gave
them each a riding crop. They were to beat the girl,
one on each side. They took turns swinging the crops,
one hit on his first count, then the other hit on his
second count. The girl followed the usual pattern,
running out of energy almost right away, hanging
between strokes, sweating enormously. He took his
clothes off and made the one who wasn't delivering the
blow suck on his penis, moving around the girl
counterclockwise.
He told the mother to go over to the girl, to tell her
how it would be, to make her kiss sweetly. She did,
and the poor thing let the mother take her mouth and
even put her own tongue into the mother's mouth, while
crying and crying.
That night he decided to get rid of them. He could
get another playmate to train with the new girl. He
had them get dressed, then bound and blindfolded them
and put them in the trunk of a large car. What was
this? They drove a long time, turning often. He
transferred them to a van, where they sat up, still
blindfolded, waiting for him to kill them. Finally he
stopped. He pulled off the blindfolds and unbound
them. He opened the door and pulled them out. They
didn't know what would happen. He said, "There's a
town that way. About five miles. Enjoy your new
life. But remember, you'll never get rid of me. I'm
in you now. And I'll be in touch." Then he drove
off.
--ch.8
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