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Message-ID: <32714asstr$1001758203@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: tmquin@NS_attglobal.net (Thomas M Quin)
Subject: {ASSM} {ASS} Vanishing Point Part 7 (M/ff, B and D, Kidnap)
Date: Sat, 29 Sep 2001 06:10:03 -0400
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                                     STANDARD DISCLAIMER
                                     ===================

The following piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment and 
has been posted only to an appropriate group on the Internet. If it is
found in any other place this is not the responsibility of the author.

The authors explicitly prohibits.

1) The posting of this story in an incomplete form. 

2) The use of this story in a larger work without his express 
    permission.

3) The use of this story on any CD, BBS or Website without the
    written permission of the author.

This work is copyright TM Quin and timidt 2000

All characters in this story are fictitious, any similarity to 
persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The author does not
necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities detailed in this
story, some of which are dangerous or illegal.

Timid and Quin 2000

  timidt@hotmail.com                           tmquin@attglobal.net
*****************************************************************

		Vanishing Point Part 7 (Ben)
		======================

     Liz fought, of course, but this time we were ready for her. She
      was so well bound that I could have easily handled her myself,
     but with Thelma there she stood no chance.

      I decided to start with the compound gag. This is a neat little
      number made by some guys out in San Francisco -- it consists of
      a broad leather strap mask that covers the whole of the bottom
      of her face from nose to chin. The mask has a round plastic
      former inside that slips behind the teeth, holding the mouth
      open. The resulting hole is then plugged with a dense rubber
      plug in the shape of my penis. Hey, so I'm an egotist -- at
      least this way the girls get to know the anatomy of my dick
      early on. And let's face it, she would sample the real thing
      soon enough.

      Liz fought like a tiger to resist being gagged. In fact, Thelma
      almost ripped a handful of Lizs hair out when she pulled the
      bitch's head back. Getting the ring behind the teeth takes some
      doing when the victim is resisting this hard but poor Liz was
      at a terrible disadvantage and before long the gag was strapped
      tightly into place. We all paused to take a breath and summon
      our strength for the next battle. During the break, however, I
      fitted Liz with a thick leather blindfold. I figured the little
      bitch would be easier to handle if she couldn't see what was
      coming.

      I looked across at Thelma and nodded. She walked over to the
      bed and got ready. Once we were set, I lifted Liz from the
      chair and carried her to the bed. Dumping her on the mattress,
      I gave her a moment to realize what was coming, then Thelma and
      I attacked her with relish. I admit to being a little surprised
      by how passively Liz took it. She had fought tooth and nail to
      avoid the gag, and yet when it came to being tied to the bed
      spread eagle, obviously in preparation for the act of rape, she
      was almost docile. In no time at all she was trembling and
      naked on the bed, spread, helpless, bound and gagged, a far cry
      from the successful business woman who had left work this
      morning.

      Still, there was something about her actions that puzzled me.
      It was almost like being gagged was more of a problem for her
      than being raped. I frowned and looked down at the naked woman
      as she shivered helplessly on the bed. I needed to think a few
      things through, so rather than just jumping in I signaled
      Thelma to take point on the teasing, contenting myself with
      watching our captive's reactions. Initially Liz froze, all
      muscles locked, trying to control her body while Thelma started
      to play. The only movement she allowed herself was a fevered
      shaking of the head and some muffled "no, no" sounds. Once she
      realized that we were ignoring her she stopped doing that --
      holding her body stiff and unresponsive to Thelma's teasing.

      Liz was good, she lasted five whole minutes before her hips
      started to quake. That's a long time when Thelma is working you
      over and I could tell by the thin sheen of sweat that covered
      her body that Liz found it far from easy. The hips were the
      first crack in her armor, but it didn't take long before others
      appeared. When she finally let out a low moan of frustration, I
      knew we had her. Fifteen seconds later, sobbing and squirming
      simultaneously, Liz broke, her body writhing helplessly while
      Thelma licked
      the inside of her thigh.

      For me, it was an interesting reaction to watch. Self-control
      -- hell, control in general -- was obviously very important to
      this woman. I can't say this was exactly a revelation, since
      I'd had her figured as a pushy bitch from the start, but I
      think it surprised me just how important it was to her.
      Suddenly everything made sense. I knew in that instant how
      Champollion must have felt when he finally cracked the Rosetta
      stone. Once you saw the truth, it all seemed so obvious.

      It was all about control.

      Liz had one of those personalities that needed to control
      everything in extreme detail. We all like to be in control,
      it's a very human trait, but people like Liz have an almost
      compulsive fear of the unknown and unexpected. They have a
      pathological need to know that everything was under control.

      Let's take the example of a high board at the pool. You could
      hypothesize that there's a one in a thousand chance that you
      could fall awkwardly and break your neck. You or I would take
      that as pretty good odds -- I mean, we all believe it can never
      happen to us, it would always be some other guy who turns out
      to be the poor unlucky bastard. So we'd climb the board, have
      the thrill of the dive, and chances are that nothing would
      happen. Someone like Liz, however, would want to know the
      result of the dive in advance, and if that was impossible then
      they simply wouldn't do it. Taking a chance just isn't in their
      nature, and because of that they live a very staid, boring
      life.

      On reflection, it all now made sense. Somewhere inside Liz was
      a risk taker, someone who wanted to live life on the edge, but
      that Liz was buried under the pile of control neuroses that was
      "Elizabeth." It explained the extreme reaction to Ruth; part of
      Liz admired her sister and would have rather gone with her to
      Nepal rather than spend the summer in a stuffy, boring office.
      Yet that idea terrified Elizabeth to the core, the idea of
      being out there in a world that she could not control. It was
      simply unimaginable. So she had deluded herself into making
      those parts of her sister's life she most admired into a vice,
      and at the same time making her own lack of daring a virtue.

      The need for control consumed Liz's life. It had chosen her
      husband, her job, even her lifestyle. That was why she found
      the gag so hard to take. As an ad exec she used her voice to
      affect others, to pitch her ideas, argue in meetings, persuade
      her customer. Her voice was an extension of her control, the
      way she controlled others. In stealing her voice from her, a
      very sizable chunk of Elizabeth's power evaporated.

      I knew then that I was going to take everything from her. Her
      sight, hearing, voice, and movement were just the start. *I*
      would decide when or if she ate, slept, went to the bathroom.
      Every tiny little thing she did from now on would be under my
      direct control. There was nothing she would have
      any choice over -- for her, the helplessness of captivity would
      be total.

      It would be hard for her. The stress would tear "Elizabeth"
      apart, but eventually she would accept total helplessness,
      perhaps even come to enjoy it. Then I would gradually give her
      control back, one little piece at a time, at each stage making
      sure she realized that everything came from me and
      could be taken away just as easily.

      I nodded to myself. So far, so good. Now it was time to get on
      with the job in hand.

      I signaled Thelma to start into the main act as my hands found
      Liz's breasts and nipples. Thelma flashed me a little smile and
      started in, parting Liz's pussy lips and delicately licking the
      helpless woman's clit. I
      watched, smiling, as Liz's hips thrust up and a low moan of
      pleasure escaped the gag. Thelma had done a good job on her
      own, but now that there were two of us it added a whole new
      dimension to the woman's torment. I concentrated my tongue on
      Liz's erect nipples, letting Thelma run amok with Liz's bottom
      half.

      In a matter of moments Liz was writhing and moaning, tugging on
      her bonds in a desperate attempt to get free.

      I had realized that this was not going to be easy. She hadn't
      gone through twenty-eight years without an orgasm for lack of
      trying. I figured that part of her which needed control
      wouldn't allow her to cum; control was either absolute or it
      was nothing, and something as unpredictable as an orgasm simply
      couldn't be allowed. Still, it had an interesting side effect.
      As we continued teasing, Liz's state of arousal just kept
      getting higher. If we could manage to push her over the edge I
      had no doubt that the orgasm would be mind blowing. Once the
      body had tasted that kind of pleasure, I figured "Elizabeth's"
      days were numbered.

      We continued to climb the north east face of Liz's pleasure,
      her arousal getting higher and higher. By now her nipples and
      clit were all pink and erect, her flushed, sweat soaked body
      writhed with every touch no matter how slight, and her moans of
      pleasure fought the gag. I was about to consider
      having Sherpas bring up oxygen for the three of us when we hit
      a high plateau. This was it, we were close. Now all that was
      necessary was to get myself ready. Reaching up, I unfastened
      the plug from the front of the gag, plopping the damp rubber
      dick out so as to make room for the real thing.
      Liz's mouth waited, held open and ready by the plastic ring.
      Signaling Thelma to be ready, I thrust in.

      "Suck me, Liz honey," I said in a gentle voice. "Be a good girl
      and we'll let you cum now. Otherwise, we could have to keep you
      like this for an hour, maybe more."

      "Ugghht," she moaned, the vibration feeling delicious around my
      dick. Slowly she started to lick, body trembling in nervous
      anticipation. In response, Thelma licked her clit, a straight
      one for one exchange -- a method of linking her pleasure with
      mine. In time she would come to associate the two sensations to
      the point where her clit would become erect while she was
      giving a blow job, a constant reminder that her pleasure and
      her master's were interlinked.

      Another lick and suck, and again an immediate reward from
      Thelma. It hadn't taken Liz long to realize what this meant. By
      now she was horribly, pathetically needy. In fact, control
      freak or not, I suspect little Liz would have been begging if
      she could. In any case, she suddenly switched to high gear,
      mouth working on my erect cock as her tongue licked and
      stroked. I felt my balls boiling over with cum and I had
      somewhere else in mind for it.

      Pulling out, I gave Thelma the signal. She came down, taking my
      length in her talented mouth. I felt a slinky twirl and she was
      gone, leaving my cock with a thin rubber coating. Okay, so it
      was a cheap Las Vegas showgirl trick, but my customers seem to
      like it and as a method of putting on a rubber it sure
      beats fumbling with packets.

      Then we switched ends, Thelma lowering her shaved crotch onto
      Liz's face as I pressed the head of my cock against the lips of
      Liz's pink hole and pushed in.

      Liz stiffened and moaned as I thrust in. Her hips quaked and I
      could feel her pussy spasming. The little bitch was so close,
      and admittedly so was I. Moving slowly so that I didn't unload
      too soon, I buried my whole length in her.

      "Uhhhh." It was a small gagged grunt, followed a second later
      by a muffled moan of pleasure as I withdrew.

      "Poor helpless little bitch," I said, pausing to thrust in
      again.

      I withdrew, "So turned on, and there is nothing you can do
      about it. I own you, bitch. I control your body and every
      aspect of your being. You are going to cum for me because I,
      your Master, order it."

      And with that I picked up the pace, listening to the stereo
      moans that accompanied each of my thrusts. It seems that Thelma
      was managing to get the full use of Liz's tongue, to her
      obvious delight. I started into a solid rhythm of deep powerful
      thrusts while carressing the naked woman's breasts.
      By now her pussy was on the brink and I was wondering how much
      more it would take when her orgasm crashed over me.

      I assume this was what it felt like to surf a tidal wave. Her
      cunt claimed my cock completely, squeezing, sucking, vibrating.
      I exploded, but my own orgasm, massive as it was, seemed like a
      firecracker compared to the supernova that claimed her. It went
      on and on, her ragged breath and arching back, the tremble that
      seemed to run through her body for hours.

      Somehow, I remembered there was something I had to do.

      "Cum, Thelma! Cum for me, slave!"

      And Thelma's orgasm exploded to as she ground her cunt into
      Liz's screaming mouth.

      ===========================================================

      Liz was too exhausted to fight. Like a zombie, she just let us
      free her and take her to the toilet and then back to the chair.
      Before we got her ready for the night there was one last thing.

      The harness is a one size fits all kind of contraption, really
      nothing more than a nest of straps with locking buckles. Mainly
      it is a restraint and chastity device. The harness gives you
      many more interesting places to strap restraints, and in
      addition it has little cups that cover cunt and nipples, thus
      isolating them and keeping them from the slave's reach. As she
      had been such a good girl, I let Liz off with a couple of crock
      clips on the nipples before I strapped the breast cups in
      place. For her cunt, though, I had something else in mind -- a
      special dildo that works on an interesting physiological
      condition in the female. You see, sperm is very temperature
      sensitive, which is why guys have external gonads to help
      regulate the temperature. Now, it turns out that a woman's womb
      is warmer than the male testes, and the little spermies coming
      from one to the other have some degree of shock. It seems that
      nature had originally intended for the human female to cum
      first, since just before a woman orgasms her womb temperature
      drops a quarter degree.

      My little dildo has a sensitive little thermometer in its
      shaft. When it detects the temperature drop it shuts off, waits
      three minutes, then starts up again. The little beast really
      does all the tricks, too -- the head swivels, expands and
      contracts, and there is a little buzzer thing for the clit.
      Added together, the little bastard guarantees a high level of
      sexual frustration for the poor unfortunate slave.

      I took it out of its box and held it up for Thelma's approval.
      The girl shivered. In the early days of our relationship she
      had got to know this device very well. She smiled evilly as I
      pushed the dildo into Liz's damp hole, but I wasn't finished
      yet. I took an adhesive electrode, one of the ones they use for
      medical monitoring, and stuck it to Liz's little clit.

      Taking a small metal box from the bag, I connected it to the
      clit electrode with a length of wire. There were a number of
      other wires but I discarded most of them. Taking two more
      electrodes, I stuck them to the base of Liz's neck and attached
      the wires, then covered it all with a broad leather collar.
      Finally satisfied, I finished fastening the harness and
      strapped Liz to the waiting chair. Movement was now almost
      impossible. With the dildo mouthpiece back in the gag, she was
      silenced as well as blind.

      Smiling, I had one last thing to take from her. I use one of
      those MP3 walkman things, mainly because they allow you to play
      the same thing again and again with no delay. In this case it
      was my voice telling her she was a slave, my property,
      completely owned, and that I controlled her life as she was
      nothing, just a collection of holes that existed for my
      pleasure. Putting the headphones over her ears, I started the
      player, then the dildo, then finally the little box. All had
      long life batteries and would continue working until morning.

      I climbed into bed next to the naked Thelma and looked forward
      to a relaxing sleep. A few feet away in the dark I heard a
      muffled yelp. It seemed Liz had discovered the use of the
      little box. Quite simply, it detected the brain wave activity
      associated with sleep. When it spotted it, the device would
      deliver a sharp shock to the clit to keep Liz awake. Of course,
      eventually the body would work out that it could fool the
      device by avoiding the deep sleep stage. Unfortunately for Liz,
      that would leave her brain in the very impressionable Theta
      state where the orders on the MP3 machine would be accepted
      without question. It would be interesting to see how her
      attitude had changed in the morning.


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