Yes, I am still safe and sound with Taun, curled up right now, in fact, in his bed (although he isn’t in it at the moment; he is taking a shower). He has been so sweet to me since he got me back, taking things slowly, showering me with gifts, and not letting me out of his sight just in case there is still a danger or possibility that I could be taken again. But he assures me Vince is dead and really, why would anyone want to kidnap me? I keep trying to convince Taun that I’m fine now and he doesn’t have to watch me so closely. I hate being kept locked up even though I know it’s for my own protection.
But now I must tell you about the second part of my captivity. As I said in my last entry, one day, something was just very different.
I am sure it wasn’t Vince anymore, despite Taun telling me over and over that he only found one man in the whole building the day he rescued me and that man was Vince. Anyway, he looked, acted and seemed so different so it must have been another man but I don’t know exactly when or how Vince left and this man – this monster – took over from him.
I was lying naked on the floor exhausted, scared and confused. Vince had finished playing with me a few hours previously and I was floating in and out of consciousness when he reappeared. That last session had been especially brutal and I couldn’t move, despite trying so hard to do so as he walked slowly towards me. I wasn’t chained or strapped down anymore. The first few weeks Vince had kept me tied up because I was stronger and better able to fight him off but it wasn’t long before I started to lose more quickly and painfully each time I tried to push him away and so in the end I stopped trying. I thought that maybe if I didn’t fight him and focused on trying to be pleasing he would be less cruel to me. But he was just as cruel and hurt me just as badly and the only difference was that my skin wasn’t bleeding from pulling against the ropes or cuffs.
I think that last session with him was probably one of the worst. Maybe it’s one of the reasons the Monster came. Maybe Vince had finally used up his repertoire of terrible things to do to me and needed a replacement while he cooked up some more evil.
Standing completely naked, staring down at me, Vince had told me to chose a number between one and ten and to count out loud to that number. He hadn’t explained the rules of his “game” but I quickly understood that he would do something sexual to me that number of times I had chosen. I also figured out that he was alternating between extremely painful acts and soft, gentle actions. I had chosen the number nine knowing that he was going to do something non-painful next. Each act was sexual and although I hated him doing these things to me I would rather he touched me intimately without hurting me than touch me sexually and also hurt me. He laughed and said something about knowing all along that I wanted him as he slowly, very, very slowly slid inside me. He made me look into his eyes as he thrust in and out, deeply and excruciatingly slowly while I counted up to nine.
Of course my next number choice was one, knowing that it was going to hurt. And it did. He had barely waited for me to say the number out loud than he grabbed hold of my hair and yanked my head back, causing my back to arch and my breasts to thrust out. Then suddenly his mouth was on my breast and I screamed out in agony as a sharp pain shot from my nipple through my whole body. I was sure he had just bitten my nipple off. He held his teeth clamped onto my nipple for what seemed like hours but was probably only a few minutes before releasing me and letting me fall back to the floor. In a panic I looked down at my breast and was relieved to see no blood but the pain seemed to get worse and worse.
I realized that he was shouting at me to chose my next number and I somehow managed to think straight enough to say eight. I could barely see him though my tears as he ordered me to focus on his face again. And that’s when I saw the smile, that glint in his eye of pure, undiluted, evil.
“I didn’t say I would always follow the same pattern. Now remember to count and if you mess up we’ll just have to start again.”
I screamed as the crop came down on the same nipple he had just bitten. After I had groaned, “One,” he moved to the next nipple which wasn’t as bad but still hurt so much. Next he hit me between the legs and then, laughing again, he moved back to the first nipple. By the time I had counted to eight I was hoarse from screaming and my body was on fire.
He kissed me, telling me that the kiss was a gift for free because he was having such fun and said I should chose my next number. I had no idea what to chose now and I could hardly speak anyway so I just said “four” as it was the first number that came to my poor, terrified, and exhausted mind.
After what seemed like hours – and probably was – I just stopped moving and screaming.
Then he left.
When he came back things seemed different.
He walked slowly towards me and I couldn’t move, even when he started to touch me. I remember seeing his slightly surprised expression when I didn’t even flinch as his hand slid between my legs and a finger pushed inside me. He continued touching me, caressing and kissing me and then we had sex. I just let him. I couldn’t fight and somehow didn’t want to either. It was less painful and less frightening to just lie as immobile as I could; to just allow things to happen.
Again he told me to look into his eyes and I obeyed. He had beautiful eyes. Cold, evil and terrifying, yes. But beautiful. He started to talk to me, to tell me what he was doing and what I was doing and he kept repeating my name and his voice was deep, smooth, warm and… I felt almost… good. He told me who I was and what I was to do and it seemed to make so much sense; it seemed so right. He seemed to understand me; to know me, really know me. His voice was a velvet cloak that wrapped around my naked body and I could feel it against my skin and it was so, so soft and silky and felt so amazingly good. His eyes drilled through me into my brain, my mind, my soul. He explained that his cock was my god and I was to worship it. And it just made sense. It just was normal and right. I didn’t argue with him or protest because I knew he was right; I knew I had to worship it because… because I just did. If he said it was so then it had to be so. He knew me. He wouldn’t say something that wasn’t true. He knew what I needed and he gave me what I needed so I needed him. He asked me what his name was and I knew that if he was asking me the question I must know the answer. I had been calling him a monster in my head and so I told him that he was my Monster. He told me to always address him as the Monster and I screamed out his name in ecstasy as he brought me to orgasm and ordered me to cum for him.
After he had cum inside me he picked me up and carried me outside the room. I think I blacked out. When I awoke we were in a different room and I was lying on a soft rug with a chain around my ankle which was attached to a very heavy, metal ball. I looked around and saw my Monster sitting in a big chair a short way away. He smiled down at me and I smiled softly back. I was happy!
During my time with him, the Monster used me over and over and I didn’t mind. I wanted him to! I wanted so badly to please him, even though most of the time it hurt a lot and I could never quite get things right. For example, even something as simple as walking towards him to pay proper homage and respect, I couldn’t seem to do as quickly as I should have.
He called me to him and I struggled to get there as quickly as I could but the ball I was chained to was so heavy and it took me so long. Tears of frustration ran down my cheeks as I looked up at him and saw him tapping his fingers impatiently on the arm of his chair while he watched me advance at a pathetic snail’s pace. All I had to do was get from the rug to his chair and I wasn’t even capable of doing that! But I knew that if he had told me to do it then I must be able to do it so I kept trying and didn’t give up even when he moved further away after I had finally almost reached him. Eventually I completed the task and he graciously allowed me to worship him as a reward.
I didn’t understand why he hurt me. But I didn’t object or question him, of course, because he obviously had his reasons and I was sure they were very good ones. One time he had me sit on a bench. My legs were either side of it and didn’t quite reach the floor. It was soft and silky, except for many small, metal, rounded studs that ran all along the top surface. The Monster made me slide back and forth along the bench and ordered me to make myself climax. It was difficult because the hard metal hurt me and I just wanted to rub against the softer surface but I couldn’t avoid the studs. Of course I obeyed and had an orgasm but I was in pain for quite a while after. He made sure to have sex with me many times while I slowly recovered.
The Monster was very good to me and I knew he wanted to protect me. He warned me that Taun could hurt me and that I had to be very careful if ever I saw him again. At first, even though I trusted my Monster completely, I was confused by what he said about Taun. Taun was good to me, wasn’t he? But then one day I woke up in a tiny cage. I hate – and when I say hate I mean abhor, loathe and detest with all my body and soul – being locked in a cage. I am extremely claustrophobic and am lucky that most men don’t realize that being locked in a cage is worse for me than being whipped. I was terrified to find myself in a tiny cage, hanging from the ceiling, all alone in the room. I started screaming for help and after a while my Monster came. He was angry, and rightly so, that I had called for him so disrespectfully and he allowed me to beg to be punished for this but first he removed me from the cage. Oh, I was so grateful! He explained that Taun had shown up and had put me in the cage and had told my Monster that I would love it there! Can you imagine? Luckily my Monster, being so clever and knowing me obviously far better than Taun does, hadn’t believed him and had chased Taun away and was in fact busy doing that while I was screaming for him to come and get me. My Monster reassured me that he would then allow me to have my punishment and that Taun would not return.
But he did.
One day shortly thereafter I was on the rooftop with my Monster, on my knees in front of him, worshipping him with my mouth, when we heard an awful, thunderous and thudding sound from the sky. We both looked up and then suddenly men were shouting and the next thing I knew my Monster was running back into the castle and Taun was standing next to me trying to tell me everything was okay. Everything was most definitely not okay! I screamed and fought Taun and tried everything I could to get back into the building to be with my Monster. But Taun wouldn’t let me. He grabbed me around the waist and I was pulled up into a helicopter where I passed out.
I woke in a house. Taun’s house. It was several days before I felt normal again. Taun made me read my diary many times to try and bring me back and to jog my memory of how things were and I think I feel fairly okay again now.
But sometimes I feel my Monster so close that I am sure he is here. And I am not sure how I feel about that.
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