"Take these." "W.what are they?" "What are they MASTER!" I corrected, "In answer to your question, they are aspirin for the headache." She seemed unconvinced. "Look slave if I wanted to poison or drug you I could do it anytime. Now, do you want them or not?" She opened her mouth and I popped them inside using the remainder of the coffee to wash them down. It was only a little lie, one was an aspirin, the other was a contraceptive pill, one of which would form part of her daily diet from now on. Then while she was still thinking how to ask, I stripped off a glove, bent her over and cleaned her up.

She blushed as we reentered the "studio", memories of last night still obviously fresh in her mind. I had her sit on one of the covered tables as I replaced her shoes with her usual high heeled boots. A butterfly vibrator held in place by a pair of snap on panties (to wake her up a little quicker) and she was almost ready to start the day.

I pulled her head forward so that I could get at the buckle of the leather mask and found her strangely resistive. "Please master." "You like the mask slave?" She nodded and looked down avoiding my eyes. "Why slave?" I asked genuinely puzzled. She remained silent kicking her heels against the leg of the table like a shy schoolgirl. "Answer slave!" I said pressing on her crotch and increasing the butterfly's stimulation of her bare clit. She gasped and shuddered a little. "Please master. It makes me.feel sexy." She seem embarrassed I was sure that there was a blush hiding behind that mask. " Not good enough slave, but I'll do you a deal. You can keep it IF you can give me a good psychological analysis of why you need it." Her shocked eyes peered out from behind the soft leather. "Well slave? You were a psych major, you should be able to give me a good technical answer." Her eyes filled with conflicting emotions, her mouth worked silently. She wasn't an accomplished liar, I'm sure I would have come up with some bullshit in her position and it was obvious that the anonymity the mask offered some attraction to her, perhaps a way that Caroline the reverend's daughter could distance herself from the slut I was turning her into. Yet I also felt, as I watched the struggle behind those pretty blue eyes, that this was an ancient demon she was fighting, not one that had surfaced in the past few days, traumatic as they were. In the end she didn't speak so I removed the mask and pulled her over to a chair.

I retrieved some rope and a collection of other bondage bits from the cabinet and returned. quickly retying her wrists and body to the chair frame. I increased the number of ropes until I had what I needed. Caroline the Republic heroine was back, though in far kinkier underwear than was usual in the thirties. Bound to a chair in the villains hideout she struggles against her tight bonds. Of course some things had to go. Her collar and the remaining bondage jewelry was replaced by a simple costume necklace and earring set that were more in period. Reloading the camera and quickly positioning the lights I started to snap away.

The first couple of shots I had her smile at the camera as I took her from several different angles. She looked great. Her blond hair fell on her naked shoulders and framed her face. Her arms were visible, bound to her sides by rope wrapped tightly around her body and the back of the chair. Her wrists were bound with cord to the chair's underframe leaving her gloved hands in plain view. One set of ropes pushed her tits up firmly against the cups of the leather corset. Her long legs had to be pulled back quite a way so that I could tie her booted ankles to the legs of the chair. This exposed the creamy white surface of her uncovered thighs framed as they were by the stocking tops and leather garters. This also seemed to push the butterfly harder into her clit for after a few minutes her eyes rolled back and she groaned loudly.

I gagged her, brain and heart in bitter conflict. I had originally intended to just tie a cloth loosely over her mouth in the unconvincing way seen in many films. Yet my master's pride couldn't bear the idea of a photo of a slave of mine with such an obvious fake. So in the end I compromised. I stuffed a sponge ball into her mouth and duct taped it firmly in place. I used the white tape (I have every color) and after tying the cloth tightly over the tape it was impossible to see. I took my shots. Caroline still looked like a Republic heroine, gagged in a stupid movie way but when I looked at the photos I would know that she had been firmly silenced up to my usual standards.

Next I untied her from the chair and removed the boots. I tied her arms and legs as I had the day before, clinched rope around ankles and knees with a matching set for wrist and elbows. I wrapped some more rope above and bellow her leather covered tits to bind her arms behind her before removing the gag. I'd found before that kneeling she was at a perfect height to service my engorged cock which was by now pressing painfully against my leather pants. Without saying a word I unzipped my fly and shoved my dick into her face. In three days Caroline had already accepted her role as my cockslut, no other commands were necessary. She licked and sucked, teased and tormented as I started knotting the length of cloth. When I seized her head she finished me off, deepthroating and sucking with the same wonderful mind numbing intensity she had shown the first time. One thing seemed clear, one day I had to find the guy who taught her this trick and thank him personally. I came and came, noticing in a strange detached way that she swallowed every drop. Sam, though she gave great head, would always spit it out afterwards which had left me feeling dirty and awkward. Caroline swallowed it greedily and I realized that my cum was the closest thing Caroline had to a meal in the past few days.

Pushing her head back I forced the knotted part of the cloth into her open mouth using the tail ends to tie it tightly in place. Then I ordered her to smile, hard with her mouth gagged so tightly but not impossible. I took smiling shots of her kneeling and sitting down then I had her struggle in as many differing positions as I could think of. I finished off the film with her screaming into the gag, her face contorted and mouth straining against the cloth muzzle. She was left panting on the floor, I waited until she had recovered her breath and then picked her up and took her to the table.

I sat her down and she waited quietly, bound legs tucked gracefully under the seat of the chair while I unpacked the food. I sat her on my knee as I had the day before but this time I pulled the gag from her mouth and started to feed her by hand as you would a favorite pet. This was probably not lost on her, but by now she was so hungry that she would accept even this indignity.

We finished with pancakes and syrup which she seemed to really enjoy After the pancakes I had her lick the syrup from my gloved fingers Then I picked up the gag and forced the knots back behind her teeth, before tightening the knot behind her head. She gave me her "Bambi in the headlights" look and chewed on the gag as she tried to say something. I smiled then pulled her tits free of the restraining leather. As before I spread a little syrup in her nipples and began to lick and suck it off. She moaned and more muffled sound emerged from her gagged mouth though it was unclear if she wanted me to stop or wanted more. Her nips however had no doubts, standing out hard and firm as my tongue danced over them. It was time to up the stimulation a little so I started to press the butterfly against her clit feeling her body stiffen and tremble.

More unintelligible sounds erupted and she started to rub her gagged mouth against me as she had done the day before. Without breaking my rhythm I reached up and pulled the knot free. For a few seconds she just gasped and then she panted out, "Please.".

I stopped and looked up, her face was flushed, her breath came in sort pants. She was attempting to avoid my gaze but I brought my fingers to her chin and eased her head back until her eyes met mine.

"Please what," I asked, "Please stop, please continue, what?" She didn't say anything. Every other time I'd fucked her she'd been gagged and all I'd ever heard was her muffled cries. This time I meant to know if they were of agony or ecstasy.

Her eyes were full of doubt and some strange kind of fear but above all need. That need shone out from behind those embarrassed blue eyes and finally her mouth echoed them "P.Please fuck me master! . The. this whore needs to be fucked!"

I smiled, now I had my answer but I intended to play a while longer. I bent down and licked again, enough to ensure she was kept on the brink but no more.

"Please master." "Want to cum slave?" She nodded silently, I pressed the butterfly a little harder smiling at her startled gasp. "Well slave if you want it you're going to have to do something for me." She glanced down at my crotch, it was obvious from her expression that she felt she'd done enough already, that the blow job was payment for bringing her off. I just smiled.

The idea had formed in an instant. If she wanted this orgasm, and I could tell that she did, I wanted something personal in exchange. I wanted her first sexual encounter to be described in graphic and lurid detail. I would link that first time, good bad or indifferent, with her begging her kidnapper to fuck her. This was an act of violation as real as anything physical I could do to her. My mouth watered with anticipation.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions slave. Answer them for me and I'll see you right." She looked into my eyes. By now she was panting she was so close, she just nodded and looked away.

"How old were you when you had your first fuck." She hesitated, I had no way to verify her answers but I was betting that she would have difficulty lying effectively while she was this turned on. I began to stroke her, upping the general tactile stimulus while keeping her erogenous zones as they were. My hand moved quickly over the leather of her panties and came to rest on the inside of her thigh which I gently caressed.

"Six.sixteen." She panted. I let my hand stray a little closer to the buzzing butterfly.

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