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From: secretkeeper3@comcast.net (Secret)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 20 May 2003 08:04:19 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Bittersweet Revenge
Date: Tue, 20 May 2003 09:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

The man was crazy.  That much she was sure of.  She had been his captive
here, for well over a week, and although he hadn't lived up to his threats
of seduction, she knew it was only a matter of time.  He usually kept her
tied up, mostly to a hard wooden kitchen chair.  He kept her gagged all of
the time, except for when he fed her.  Even when he untied her hands, to
bathe, or eat, or relieve herself, there was no way to remove the gag, for
was it a helmet of sorts,that locked, in the back of her head.  The mask
covered her entire lower face, leaving only her eyes and forehead visible.
The inside of the mask, had a distended round ball, about the size of a
small peach, that fit snugly into her mouth, keeping her from ever closing
it.  The entire thing was made of steel, and made her head weigh twice as
much.  She had come to hate cursed thing, almost as much as she hated the
man who made her wear it.  Only it was hard to hate someone when she had no
clue who she was hating.  The man was obviously quite fond of masks,
because whenever he was in her sight, he wore one as well.  His hair
changed color daily, and he spoke to her only thru a mechanized, hand-held,
voice distorter.  Clown masks, monster masks, funny Haloween masks-they
were all evidence to his insanity.  They were also quite efficient in
keeping her terrified, and confused.  Crazy as a loon, and yet the meals he
fed to her were unbelievably delicious, noticeable even in her present
state.  Hateful, but yet he had never touched her in a violent manner. 
Even her kidnapping had been free of brutality.  Held at gunpoint, she had
done everything he asked, and he had not hurt her.  His house, or should
she say mansion, was magnificent.  Full of antiques, and expensive peices,
and the place was sirprisingly clean.  He always prepared the bathroom
before she was to bathe, and there she found expensive soaps, and shampoos,
luxiourious lotions, and perfumes, candles burning, with the scent of
incense.  It was as if he loved and hated her.  But who was he?

   The scent of cologne filled her nostrils, as someone stood behind her,
and fumbled with the lock on her helmet.  "It's time." he said, close to
her ear.  No voice distorter, this time!  And his voice-so familiar-was
quite sensual.  Cool air tickled her head and ears, as the helmet-gag was
removed.  Was she being released?  Big hands slid down, brushing gently
over her mouth, carressing her lips.  They were bruised from wearing the
gag for so long, and his touching them made her feel even more vulnerable.
"So soft," he murmured, and then his hands dropped to her neck, still
carressing.

   She tried to speak.  "Wh-Why are you-"

   "Sssshhh..  Or I'll have to gag you, again." His voice was still soft,
but now she was detecting threads of anger in it, as well.  He caressed
continuously lower, until he had reached the tops of her breasts.  She wore
only the navy blue negligee that he had given her, for he allowed her to
wear nothing else.  No socks or shoes, for he knew that if she did escape,
she would come crawling back, if she did not die first in the frozen winter
weather.  Her nipples hardened against her will, and she fought the urge to
arch her back, to lift her breasts until his fingers came in contact with
the sensitive peaks.

   What was the matter with her?  Why was this man making her feel so
sexual?  She hated him, and now she hated him more for making her body
betray her.  His fingers did not lower, but but continued to carress only
the tops of her breasts, the creamy white skin that was visible above the
satin.  Suddenly brave, she jumped up and ran a few steps away.  Then she
whirled to face him, her curiousity getting the best of her.

   "Steve!!!" she gasped, shocked beyond anything she ever could have
imagined.  Big, heavyset, very strong and muscular, he was usually nothing
but a big teddy bear.  Steve was the guy had always wanted her, and the one
guy whom she would never give herself to.  He was a friend, and she hadn't
wanted to risk such a good friendship.  But more than that, she admitted,
with some guilt, was that even thought she sometimes fantasized about him,
he was heavyset.  And she didn't date heavyset guys.  Shame filled her
heart, as she remembered how cruelly she had treated him.  How could she
have been so superficial?  And then horror filled her as she realized that
Steve still saw her as that nasty, superficial person.  She wondered how
far he had gone in his hatred?  Did he plan to murder her?  Torture her? 
Or perhaps both, in his own good time?

   And suddenly he was coming for her, and all thought ceased.  He was
close, and he was strong, but she was the more agile of the two, and she
whirled, running towards the closest door.  It took her into what appeared
to be a living room, but she hardly paused to take note.  The next doorway
was an open arch that took her up a flight of stairs.  She fled gracefully,
which was a considerable wonder, after all the time she had spent tied to a
chair.  She could hear Steve's buffalo-like steps behind her, and it
flashed into her mind that he would catch her, and that he might just crush
her with his bulk, when he did.

   Why hasn't he hurt you yet?  The question seemed so completely relevant
that it slowed her down, as she tried to create an answer.  The answer
never arrived, because a horrendous tearing at her hair, brought her to her
knees, where she cowered in terror.  Her mouth tried to form words in her
defense, but her vocal cords seemed to be temporarily out of order.  She
froze completely, which was a common reaction when she was terrified.  She
felt someone at her back, towering over her, and somehow she melted,
sinking to a formless heap on the floor, lying on her stomach.  Something
glanced off the top of her head, and she realized she had missed a
devastating punch by mere inches.  But there was no more escape.  She was
now helpless, face-down on the floor, and if anyone nearby wanted to use
her as a punching bag, there was not much she could do about it.

   She screamed out the first thing that came to her mind.  "I'm sorry!!"
she wailed, hoping to pacify him until his temper had cooled a bit.  He hit
her nevertheless, bringing his hamlike fist driving down into her middle
back.  She cried out such a childlike squeal of pain, that she somehow
frightened him away.  He hadn't really hit hit her that hard, but the shock
of it took her breath away.  She only had the strength to bring her arms up
around her head, and that's what she did.  She pillowed her head on them
and began to cry.

   *** *** *** *** *** ***

   Steve never planned to kidnap her.  Steve never planned much of
anything. But the night before it happened, his fury had reached a boiling
point, due to one of his violent dreams.  He respected women.  Most of the
time, he held open doors for them, and even pushed their chairs in for them
on the rare occasion when took a girl out to eat.  Steve liked women. 
Fantasized about them every night.  He had nothing against them....except
where she was concerned.  She was the one who haunted his dreams.  She was
the one who he had always wanted to love.  She was the one who had broken
his heart.  She was the one who he wanted to break.

   Steve had loved her in the beginning.  Desperately.  In the days when
his weight had been a factor against his social status, Tia had looked at
him with love, and even lust, when everyone else had just wanted to bounce
a cruel joke off of him.  When Bobby, Steve's supposed girlfriend, had
joined in the fray, Tia had punched her in the mouth, showing her that
NOONE talked bad about Steve and got away with it.  But then...  But then
Tia had screwed up.  When Steve had asked her out, Tia had responded
agreeably enough...  But she wouldn't sleep with him.  Wouldn't even let
him touch her, for that matter.  There had been a rough scene, and ugly
scene, and then Tia had broken up with him.  Not long after that, she had
dropped out of school.  But not before she had spread it around school what
a lousy lover he was.  AND SHE DIDN"T EVEN KNOW!!  The bitch had never
slept with him.  His remaining 4 years at Muncie had been Hell after that.
Noone would even pretend to be his friend.  Every time he came around a
corner, the girls would laugh and point, and ask how a guy so big could
have a dick so small.  And Tia had gone on with her life, never sparing a
thought for the damage she had done to him.  Well, he would take care of
that now.  And alot of other things...

   Thinking about the way she had treated him spurred the rage in Steve's
heart all over again.  He wanted to beat her until she screamed for mercy.
He wanted to mark her pretty face so she could never use it against another
man.  That decided, her reached over and grabbed a hunk of her hair,
pulling her roughly up to face him.  But her face was soft, and streaked
with tears, and he couldn't find it in himself to hurt her while she was in
this condition.  He let go of her hair, and she collapsed against his broad
chest, making him cringe with irritation and guilt.  He wanted to fling her
away, to scream at her and bring out the nasty person that he knew she
really was, but she felt so needy...

   "I'm going to carry you to the bedroom...I'm not going to hurt you" his
voice sounded soothing, even to his own ears.  He could get her on the bed,
and get her calmed down, and then he could continue with his plan.  It
wasn't like she could escape.  He had all winter to make her pay.

   *** *** *** ***

   Tia hung like a rag doll from Steve's arms, as he carried her to the
bedroom.  She was terrified, but she had no fight left in her.  This week
of being held hostage had been terrible for her psychologically.  But none
of it had been anything compared to finding out it was an old, trusted
friend who had been keeping her.  She sat up suddenly in arms, and looked
at his face.

   "Steve...we're not friends anymore, are we?" she asked, searching his
face, tearfully.  Her eyes were red, and still wet from earlier, as she
waited for his answer.  But there was none.  He raised his hand to the back
of her head and pressed her face firmly back against his chest.

   A moment later, they reached the bed, and her placed her carefully on
it. He reached for the hem of her nightie, and prepared to pull it over
head, but she went rigid, resisting him.  "Please don't!  Please!" He
hesitated at her words, and then gave in.  He stood over her, looking
undecided.  She looked up at him fearfully for a second, but then the lure
of the bed was too much.  She had spent an entire week in a chair, and all
these soft pillows and blankets were to much for her to resist.  She sighed
luxuriously, finally accepting the relaxation that was taking over.  Steve
looked even more confused as a small smile of peace stole over her face.

   She turned and wrapped her arms and legs around a large, stray pillow,
unmindful of her nightie.  It rode up, completely exposing her bottam to
Steve.  Even in the dark room, her could clearly see both cheeks, and the
dark crack between.  He hardened painfully, and wondered why he was
resisting.  This was rediculous.  She was his hostage.  And he was asking
no ransom.  He could do whatever he damn well pleased with her.  That
decided, he reached down his hand to cup one of her cheeks, but stopped
just short.  He pulled his hand back.  Tomorrow.  He would play with her
tomorrow.  Even the world's worst prisoner deserved to sleep once in a
while.

   *** *** *** ***

   Tia's dreams were hot and confusing.  One minute she was having steamy
sexual encounters, with someone, the next, she was being held at gunpoint.
Yet another time she was snuggled up with someone, warm and safe, and then
suddenly, she was being beaten with a jumper cable.  The single common
thread throughout, seemed to be that all of these men were the same person,
and when she awoke, she was suddenly and completely sure that the person
had been Steve.

   She had seen nearly every emotion she knew of, running across Steve's
face, the night before.  It was obvious that he hated her, and wanted to
hurt her.  He also wanted to fuck her.  That much was clear.  Both of these
had been apparent from day one.  But last night, she had seen something
else spark in his eyes.  Something good.  But she couldn't figure out
exactly what.  It was almost as if part of him didn't want to hurt her.

   She started to sit up, and as she did, she felt a draft on her backside.
Realizing she was flashing the room, she quickly yanked down the hem of her
nightie, and wondered if Steve had seen.  She was still a virgin, and very
shy about her body.  No man had ever seen her naked body.  Only one guy had
seen her naked chest.  And that had been Steve, when he had nearly raped
her.  In the three years since, she had dated around some, but no one had
ever really taken her fancy.  She had worked mostly, building a career for
herself, as General Manager of the "Mexican Heaven" resturaunt.  She now
had enough money in the bank to make a down payment on a house.  But first,
she had to figure out where.  No, first she had to figure out how to get
out of this alive, and then she could worry about buying a house.

   Suddenly the door banged open, and there stood Steve.  He looked very
angry, but Tia had no idea why.

   "Your punishment begins today." he informed her, gruffly.

   "P-Punishment?" she stammered.  What on earth was he talking about?  He
was glaring at her fiercly, but she couldn't think of anything she had done
to upset him.

   "You've been allowed a night of luxury, being released from the chair.
But with that privelege, comes the real reason I brought you here.  I'm
going to punish you thoroughly for every time you fucked me over.  Then I'm
going to punish you for every guy you hurt after me."

   Tia was trying to figure out if she was actually awake or not.  Surely,
he couldn't really be saying these things.  Punish her?  She was a grown
women.  Well...almost.  Not old enough to drink, but only a year away.  But
far to old to be punished, anyway.

   "Steve, what are you saying?  Are you going to spank me like a little
kid?" Her sarcasm was not lost on Steve.

   "You've got it, princess.  But I guarantee it's going to be alot rougher
on you than when you were a kid." Steve approached the bed with a look of
determination on his face.  "Roll over on your stomach." She realized he
was serious and her started to race in fear.  He grabbed her wrist and
started to flip her over.

   "Wait!  Please!  Don't do this!" she begged, desperate to stop it from
happening.  He put his face to hers, and she could smell warm coffee his
breath.  It didn't smell altogether bad.

   "Give me one reason why I shouldn't," he dared her.

   "I have to pee!" she cried.  He didn't look convinced.

   "Oh please, Steve, I want to eat breakfast with you.  I want to catch
up. I've missed you." He literally growled at her, but he released her
hand, and stood frowning.

   "You've missed me?" He seemed utterly sirprised at the concept.  She
tried to dart away from him, and suddenly he caught on.  He grabbed her
wrist again, and practically thru her onto her stomach.  "You're lying, you
little shit, just to save your ass!" he yelled at her.  Jerking up her blue
nightie, he began to spank her fiercly on her panty-covered bottam.  She
didn't fight him.  She only turned slightly to the side, and tried to curl
against the hand that held her wrist.

   "S-Stop it, please," she whimpered, starting to cry.  "I wasn't
lying...p-please.." She bit ever so gently down on his thumb, almost
animalistically trying to bear the pain.  That seemed to get affect him. 
He stopped suddenly, but she continued to cry, and she didn't move away. 
"Steve," she sobbed.  "Please stop.  I have missed you..."

   *** *** *** ***

   What the fuck was wrong with him?  He shook his head in disbelief and
disgust.  The little witch must be casting her spell on him, again.  He had
went to alot of trouble to bring her here and fuck her up, and so far all
he had done was give in every time she cried.  He was supposed to be making
her cry.  He wanted her to suffer.  So why the Hell was he on the way home
from Taco Bell in the middle of a snowstorm just because she was craving
mexican food?

   She said she missed you, a little voice answered.  That was bullshit, he
returned, just as quickly.  She was a spoiled little bitch, too pretty for
her own good.  Pretty girls never missed fat boys.

   He smiled then, as he considered his current physique.  Actually, he was
a little sirprised that Tia had recognized him so quickly.  He had shed
almost fifty pounds of fat, and had turned the rest into muscle.  He was
still very big guy, but as hard as a rock.  He thought about the little tap
he had given her in the back the previous night, and how much pain it
seemed to have caused her.  And those swats this morning-you would have
sworn he was killing her, by the way she had cried.  Maybe he should be
more careful, or he could seriously injure her.

   He shook off his thoughts as he concentrated on pulling into the icy
driveway.  Suddenly anger hit him like a brick as he saw a light on in one
of the rarely used rooms of the mansion.  That little bitch.  He had left
her untied in the bedroom, under the strict order that she made no attempt
to get out.  He had locked her in the room from the outside, and there were
steel bars on the windows, so he hadn't really been too worried.  But
somehow....

   He jumped out of the vehicle, grabbing the sack of food.  He stalked up
the driveway, looking even more dangerous than he felt.  Tia watched him
from her locked tower window, and started to worry.  The last thing she
wanted was an angry Steve.  Now what, she wondered.  She crossed over to
the bed, and sat down, waiting nervously for him to arrive.  She heard a
few loud noises below, and then the definite slamming of a door.  Pounding
footsteps on the stairs came next, a bit of fumbling with the lock, and
then the door to bedroom was flying open to crash against the wall.

   Tia looked at him curiously, for about one second, before she was
grabbed by her upper arms and lifted into the air.  When her face was even
with his, she looked with dread into his angry eyes.

   "How'd you do it, huh?  How'd you get out?" his voice was tight with
barely controlled rage.  She wasn't guilty, but her fear of him caused her
to look guiltily at the floor.  Her lower lip trembled, with the threat of
coming tears.  Her throat seemed locked up, and she couldn't speak up to
defend herself.

   Enraged at her apparent refusal to answer him, he set her down, and
started to slap her across the face.  She stumbled back a step, and put out
an arm defensively.  "Steve?  Don't hit me..." she whimpered.  Her reddish
blonde hair cascaded down to her breasts, contrasting nicely with her navy
blue negligee.  Steve shook his head to clear the image.

   "I'll hit you whenever I want, you little Bitch..." he raged.  She
gasped as tho he had hit her, and then she wrapped her arms around her
middle and began to cry softly, with her eyes closed.  Suddenly she looked
so fragile, standing there crying like that, that he once again found
himself fighting the urge to comfort her.  But what had he done to make her
so upset?  Was this another ploy to distract him?  He started to charge
her, but hesitated.  What was going on?  Why were women so damn hard to
figure out?  Studying her carefully, the way she had stopped trying to
defend herself, he decided that she wasn't faking.  Not this time anyway.

   Striding towards her, he grabbed her jaw and forced her to look up at
him.  She did so reluctantly, peeking at him thru tear filled eyes.  They
were rimmed with red, making him even more certain that she was being
sincere.  "What is it?" he asked, gruffly.  "Why are you crying?" At first
it didn't seem as tho she would answer, but he held his patience and hit
paydirt.

   "You-you called me..You called me a.." she tried but she couldn't finish
the sentence.  She hated to hear the word, much less say it.  Steve was
incredulous.  All of that crying, just because of a little curse word?  How
sensitive could a person be?  Especially a stuckup ice queen like herself.
Nevertheless, Steve was touched and a little unnerved at the display of
vulnerability.  Maybe his ice queen had a heart, after all.

   *** *** *** ***

   Tia ate her food slowly, knowing it might be a long time before she
tasted Taco Bell again.  Steve sat on the rocking chair across the room,
over by the window, eating his own share of the food.  She glanced up at
him nervously after every few bites, half expecting to see him glaring
angrily at her.  After several minutes she did.  Her own eyes widened
fearfully, as she caught his angry gaze.

   "What, Steve?  What'd I do now?" He didn't answer, but continued to
glare at her for about 10 seconds before he finally looked away.  She
stuffed the rest of the taco in her mouth, and quickly reached for a
mexican pizza at the bottam of the sack.

   "Drop it." She froze.  "Hand me the sack," he ordered.  She didn't move
for a moment, and then she looked up at him.

   "Why?" she asked, in a desperate voice.  He wasn't looking at her, but
his words carried a strong impact, anyway.

   "You're not eating again, until I've finished giving you your spanking.
You shouldn't have left this room when I was gone."

   Tia gasped.  "But I didn't-"

   Steve's flickered dangerously as he interrupted her.  "Don't you ever
lie to me,"he warned in a low voice.

   She contemplated defending herself again, but finally, she just stood up
quietly, and brought him the bag of food.  She set it on the table in front
of him, and stood quietly waiting for further instructions.  He didn't
move, nor did he speak, so finally she sat down on the floor at his feet.
Wrapping her arms around one of his muscular legs, she laid her head on his
lap.

   "Please don't spank me, Steve," she said, softly.  She had never shown
such humility to anyone, and she felt lower than a rug that people walked
on.

   "Why Tia?  Why shouldn't I?" his voice sounded slightly tired.

   "Because I don't want you to hurt me..." she met his eyes then, and she
realized it had been the wrong thing to say.  His eyes hardened, and lifted
her roughly with hands beneath her armpits.  She hung her head, thinking
about how much she had hurt him in the past, and waited to see what he
would do.

   "Then why the Hell did you hurt me, huh?" he yelled at her.  She cringed
at his anger, but she had no self-defense.  She had been a selfish witch,
more worried about her own popularity than someone else's feelings.  She
thought that she had grown since then, but Steve had no way of knowing
that. And maybe it didn't matter.  It didn't change the wounds that he had
recieved when she had been younger.

   "I won't fight you.  M-maybe I deserve this," she stammered, trying to
meet his eyes.  When she finally did, she saw that Steve wasn't a monster
at all.  Scary, maybe.  Dangerous, even.  But he was just a guy trying to
clean out the skeletons in his closet.  Trying to find some justice in his
world.

   "Yes, you deserve it," he growled, but he seemed tired again.  She
caught her breath as she realized how much pain she must have caused him.
He dropped her suddenly, and she felt hard on her rump.  She looked up at
him expectantly.  Shaking his head, he handed the sack of food back to her.

   "Here.  Eat whatever you want, and leave the trash by the door." He
stood up and stretched.  "Do you need anything?" he asked, as he ambled
towards the bedroom door.  An image of him handing her a phone, so she
could call the police popped into her mind.  Somehow, she didn't think that
that was what he had in mind.

   "No, I'm fine," she mumbled, wondering why he kept having mood swings
all the time.  "A-are you still going to s-spank...me?" she swallowed hard
as she said the word.  She realized there was more than humiliation
involved.  With Steve's strength, there would also be pain.

   There seemed to be a twinkle of amusement in Steve's eyes as he
answered. "Yes, but the food has made me a little tired, so I think I'll
take a nap first.  Give you some time to think about what you've done." Tia
felt a little tingle in her heart as she realized that he was teasing. 
Maybe he had decided not to hurt her, after all.  She actually managed a
tiny grin as he closed the door and locked it from the outside.

   *** *** *** ***

   He left her alone for two days.  When she awoke the first morning, the
trash by the door had been replaced by a shiny steel breakfast tray with
all the fixings.  A pitcher of homemade orange juice, two fluffy pancakes,
with maple syrup and butter, two peices of the most delicious sausage she
had ever tasted, and a glass of cold milk.  Well, she certainly wasn't
hurting for food, she thought, as she finished off the meal.  But when no
more food came that day, she started to worry.  By 4:00 she was sweating
from the agony of trying to hold her bladder.  Finally she went to the door
and began to call frantically for Steve.  But she couldn't yell too loudly,
for fear of wetting her pants.  She rattled the knob in desperation, and
was sirprised when it turned easily in her hand.  Not about to wonder why,
she crashed thru the door, and stumbled towards the open bathroom.  It was
huge inside, but she didn't spend time looking around.  Already pulling
down her pants, she ran for the toilet and did her business.

   After experiencing the most intense relief she had ever felt in her
life, she looked around the room in wonder.  It was more than just a
bathroom, she realized.  There was a room devider, cutting off the the
toilet and shower area from the rest of the "bathroom".  The other side of
the room contained a sink with an excessively large counter.  A small
compact microwave sat on one side of the counter, napkins, flatware, and
salt and pepper shakers were neatly arranged on the other side, along with
some other stuff.  In the corner of the room stood a tiny fridge, even
smaller than the college sized ones.  Upon opening it, she found that it
was stacked with at least a week's supply of yummy foods.  Mostly
prepackaged microwavables, such as Hot Pockets, mexican dinners, frozen
burritoes, and several varieties of Chicken Viola.  Shredded cheese,
tomatoes, olives, jalepenos, and alot of other mexican ingredients
completed the picture.  Some of her favorites foods.  How could he have
known?  She had fallen in love with some of these things long after high
school.  Weird.

   There were cabinets under the sink and she opened one almost excitedly.
Two bottles of chamgagne (extra dry, her favorite), a bottle of Jim Beam,
and three gallons of spring water.  There was tupperware of every possible
type, a package of paper plates, two tall glasses, and two champagne
flutes. Opening the other side, she found dish soap, laundry detergent, a
first aid kit, towels and washcloths.  There was even a makeup kit, and a
bag of feminine personal hygiene products.  What in the world was going on
here?  It was like she had her own studio apartment.  Was he planning to
keep her forever?  She shivered in despair at the thought, and sat down
hard on the floor.

   To Be Continued Comments are more than welcome..they are pleaded for...
Luv, Cat 

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