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Review This Story || Author: Bladesmith Blaze

My Own Captive Angels

Part 1


My Own Captive Angels
(Sequel to the story "Viking Instinct")
1/17/2011

       Outside the playhouse I had set up at the abandoned winery, I used Christine's phone to text her best friend and lure her into my trap. She agreed to meet outback at Aaron's house, where the party was still going on, in 15 minutes. It was a pain having to drive halfway across town in the time allotted, but the mere thought of having Carly join our bondage escapade made my spine shiver with chills of thrill. Normally I would have gotten an erection, too, except I had just finished nailing Christine doggy-style till my thighs ached and her pussy bled.
       You could say I was a little sloppier on this abduction, probably because I was so high on dopamine. Looking back, I'm lucky I didn't get caught.
       The only details I prefer to remember are those of me running into Carly prematurely, just outside the front door and only to discover she was surprisingly sober. We said hi and I pretended to be heading inside, allowing her to walk past me. Oh, the view I beheld! It reminded me what I was there for.
       She wore a pair of polyester Nike shorts; blue with black seams, and made of a soft, loose material that complimented her backside a great deal. At mid-thigh length, they showed plenty of leg. Carly's were long, smooth, white limbs of serenity kissed with the perfect complexion. I wondered if they tasted as delicious as the sweet cream they appeared to have bathed in. She also had a beautiful blue pedicure, which I could see through her flip-flops. Tight thighs, toned calves. I've always thought girl who played soccer had the most amazing lower bodies; she just confirmed it.
       It didn't hurt that her sports top, made of mesh material and colored beige white, had been designed to display a tasteful amount of cleavage. Her hair, blond and highlighted with hints of brown, brushed itself on the shoulders and was only a few inches longer than that.
       The same bowie knife I used to taunt Christine earlier that night I used again, this time to hold up against Carly's neck as soon as I snatched her from behind. She was a bit taller than her friend but put up less of I fight. I was so disappointed. I clamped the other hand over her mouth and utilized my forearms to hold her down tighter to my torso.
       I didn't really say anything to her, just dragged her over 20 feet to where my Chevy was parked. My rough fingers feeling the baby skin of her beautiful face got me even more excited, as her smooth blond hair ensured me that she would make an excellent addition to my nymph collection. When she cried I bent my neck and kissed the tear off her cheek, then was pleased to hear her calm down her rapid, frightened breathing. I love doing that; mocking them with false sympathy.
       "Shit!" was all I remember saying aloud.
       Once we got to the truck I realized I had made no previous arrangements for her restraint. I would have to improvise, while simultaneously keeping positive control of her as she struggled to break free. I was forced to use the bondage devices left over from the package I assembled for Christine's abduction.
       I took a heavy-duty zip tie from the tackle box, brought both of Carly's hands behind her back and cinched the tie down to her wrists. She began begging me not to kill her and telling me she had a rich father who would pay ransom. I shut her up initially by back-handing her across the face, then tore off a strip of duct tape and stamped it over her quivering lips.
       "Hey, I'm not gonna kill you, alright? No. No way am I ever getting rid of you."
       I was being dead serious; a nubile piece of teenage ass like hers has got to be kept in the absolute best condition. Saying that and a couple pats on the head seemed to calm her down a bit. She stopped flailing her legs so much and I found it easy to bind her at the ankles with another zip tie. Once again, I found myself on the floor of the backseats with my own captive angel.
       Carly wasn't restrained to anything in the car's interior but I knew she was secured enough. Another strip of duct tape, this time placed over her eyes, and we were off.

       Less than half an hour later, Daddy's little girls found themselves in a world the Marquis de Sade himself could have never predicted: my world. The wine cellar.
       Carly's hands were still tied behind her back, but I guided her down the stairs by dragging her in a choke hold with my forearm. Every now and then I'd stop, loosen my grasp and position my left ear by her taped mouth to hear the oh-so-gratifying noises of my newest concubine gasping for air. Once we reached the stone cobble floor, I picked her up at the waistline and gently laid her down on the mattress. She was slightly heavier than Christine (maybe 115 pounds), who she was now laying next to, and quite a bit feistier. With all her writhing, crying and squirming, it was obvious she would require more corporal punishment.
       Remember, Christine was still positioned on her stomach, so I sat on top of the small of her back to shake her awake. I briefly massaged her neck and shoulders as she moaned and came to.
       Her bare feet were rather cold from the night's air, and my heated hands must have been quite a sensory shock. I tied confetti rope around each ankle and knotted each rope to the wooden bedpost at the base of the bed, spreading her legs at a 45-degree angle.
       While firmly clasping her ankles, I tickled the soles of her feet with the tips of my fingers, occasionally stopping to massage them with my thumb. My erection began tingling up at the sound of her terrified squeals and furious screaming. No doubt she was cursing me, but any sign of helplessness is always quick to arouse.
       I puled the blanket away to expose Christine's lifted skirt and sore vagina. It was time to get things pumping, so I redirected all attention back to Carly: I handled her gently and sat her on my lap, where her beautifully-toned ass could feel my hardened penis throbbing under the denim. I peeled the tape off her eyes and dangled a ball gag in front of her.
       Carly looked at me pathetically, shaking her head and pleading "no, no, no". I leaned back, hugging her from behind, and quelled her fretting by peeling the tape off her mouth as well. Before she could speak I gripped her jaw and forced her mouth open, then stuffed the pink, rubber ball between her teeth. The next step was brushing her hair out of the way so I could fasten the harness behind her head like a belt.
       When finished I began kissing her neck. The smell was so sweet and innocent-tasting, my kisses progressed to licks, prolonged, slobbery licks, especially behind the ear. Carly just hung her head and sobbed quietly.
       I told her, "I bet this'll cheer you right up."
       Using wire clippers I cut the zip tie that bound her wrists and brought her hands to the front. Like before, I showed mock sympathy and gave her a minute to rub the sore joints, then presented another pair of handcuffs. Except for the occasional sniffle, she had stopped showing any distress at all. In fact, when I cinched the cold steel down on her dainty wrists she merely grunted and looked at me with wide, moist eyes, as if to ask what I was going to do to her next.
       I noticed her wiggling her feet against the bindings, obviously suffering from great discomfort. I told her I'd cut the zip tie off her ankles, too, if she agreed to do whatever I said afterwards. She nodded and I held up my end of the bargain, but warned her that if she didn't do the same or tried to run I'd carve her up like a pumpkin.
       I put the knife away but re-introduced my choke hold. I cuddled Carly close to my body to continue licking her neck and ears, while she groaned and endured my tongue's ravishing. Every couple of minutes I would squeeze my forearm to block her airway and just enough to barely allow breathing, then after her face started turning red I would release and enjoy her coughing and wheezing.
       I rubbed Carly's inner thighs and tapped her crotch with the other hand. A couple tugs to her polyester shorts reminded her that they were coming off soon. Some tears ran down her dainty skin and she began sobbing again, along with clenching her legs together.
       "Tsk, tsk, tsk." I clicked my tongue. "I really thought you were gonna be a good girl."
       I laid her down on the merciless stone floor and sat on the small of her back, facing her ass. I unwove my leather belt from the denim loops and folded it in half. I could have utilized the metal buckle, but she needed a spanking, not a torture session. Once I pulled her shorts and red, lace panties down to her knees, even she knew what was coming.
       Carly had such cute, peach-colored cheeks that looked like baby dimples it seemed a shame to have to punish them instead of a swift uppercut to the stomach. This was sexier, though. When I turned my head she was shaking hers frantically. I couldn't make out her muffled words exactly, though it was obvious that she was begging me not to spank her. I promised her only ten lashings and she bit down on her gag in preparation.
       Every whipping cracked down on her ass with a horrible snapping sound, like a painful thunderclap. I grinned, she howled. Her legs spasmed, kicked up and down, and towards the end straightened out from jolts of pain. I wasn't even striking with all my force, but could still see my intent was working. By the end hot, burning marks of red cruelty stained her precious backside.
       The sting cause her to break down entirely.
       "Maybe now you know to do whatever the fuck I say." I was pretty pissed by then; she's lucky I wasn't in the mood to uphold my original threat and stab her.
One angry hand gripped the nape of her neck and the other held the chain that linked her cuffs. I dragged her forward and upward, then forced her to kneel in front of the base of the bed, which Christine's feet were still tied to. Carly found herself in the middle, facing her best friend's bare vagina.
       I shoved her hands into Christine's crotch and told Carly to finger her. I moved both my hands to her neck, hinting that I was still in the mood for asphyxiation, possibly throat-slitting. She knew who her daddy was by then, so she didn't need any more coercion. It was still fun.
       Carly formed three middle fingers together and reluctantly slid them into the vagina. Back and forth, back and forth, to and fro, she kept going, and her thrusting became progressively faster. Christine moaned with guilty pleasure and buried her face in the sheets to scream, just like when I nailed her from behind. Carly took her thumb and used it to rub the clit, which evoked an even more terrified response from my bound angel.
       Ten minutes later, it was all good but still at the same stage it was at before. One girl teased another with her fingers, and this pleased me greatly, but I knew how to step it up a notch: I squatted down further and whispered in Carly's ear. I told her that if she could make Christine cum I would give her something to eat and let her sleep on the bed for a couple hours. It was quite a tempting proposition for the poor girl, who complied with relative ease.
       I unbuckled the harness from the back of Carly's head and slowly removed the ball gag, then dragged her by the neck closer to Christine.
       "Eat it out." I ordered.
       She whimpered loudly and said she was sorry, over and over. After uselessly apologizing for the inevitable, she dove her face in between Christine's wiggling legs and engaged that girl-on-girl cunnilingus we all love so much.
       Carly had quite a powerful tongue; she was really lapping it up all over her girlfriend's pussy. Inside the vulva, the clit, tickling all the sides, it was such a sport to watch Christine during her first lesbian encounter: eyes wide open, yanking on her hand cuffs, struggling to get her feet free, acting like she didn't love it. Watching them convulse and spasm involuntarily from pure pleasure is perhaps my favorite pass time.
       "Lick everything up. Yeah, you lick it up real good." I cheered her on quietly.
       "Mmm-hmmm." was the only sound she could make with her mouth deep in someone else's pussy.
       Christine's screams became more high-pitched and frequent. Her stomach started flopping up and down. I could tell what was about to erupt. I grabbed Carly's hair and pulled her face back, ordering her to use her hands again. Only this time I gave some assistance; my thicker fingers acted as the dildo thrusting in and out of her fleshy cavity while Carly stimulated the clit and everywhere else.
       When Christine finally did orgasm her cleave gag wasn't enough to contain the shrieks of extreme, new found ecstasy. I cupped her pussy while it squirted and allowed her thighs to clinch around my hand while they contracted tighter than ever. After a second eternity of female ejaculation, Christine's body simmered down back to normal. I now had a palm full of ejaculate, which I instinctively slapped all over her bare ass cheeks, just to make her feel as filthy as possible.
       It was quite a show. In fact, I was so grateful towards Carly that I decided to actually make true on what I promised her. I just had to run out and actually get some food, then maybe even get some sleep myself. I was worn out for the next 12 hours at least, but they were in my dungeon, so they would still be there in the morning.
       I suddenly remembered the bottle of water and Vicodin pills I had brought down earlier. They had been for Christine, but she'd just been fucked into exhaustion so I figured I'd better use them on Carly. She was extremely obedient by now and gulped them right down. I knew she'd be wiped out in less than 20 minutes, so fully restraining her wasn't my largest concern. Carly's resistance was minimal by that point and I found it extremely easy to force her back down onto the mattress. I used duct tape to bind her feet and re-gag her, knowing she would be too weak to tear it, even with her hands at her front.
       I gave her another wet ear-kiss and told her I'd be back in a couple hours. Her only response was a long, heavy sigh of distress. It was 2:00 AM by then and I was mysteriously thirsting for a good blow job and some anal action. I knew it would be better once my girls and I got some rest, though, and was willing to wait.
       I pulled her shorts back up to cover her ass and put the blanket back over both of my own captive angels.

To Be Continued
So if you love anal sex, oral sex and more forced orgasms with blond soccer players and bi-racial cheerleaders, stay tuned!


Review This Story || Author: Bladesmith Blaze
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