She Will Be Mine
By PhoenixPrime and ruralgoddess
� March 2003. All rights reserved by the authors.
Chapter 2
"It's just that simple. Another of those choices I've told you about is yours to make. Make it a wise one as this knife is razor sharp and if you move it may cut deeper than I can fix."
I rotated the knife so the blade gleamed evilly in the lantern's light and adjusted it so the reflections flashed across her face then slowly rose to my six foot and a bit height. I watched her as I unwound the camouflage mesh from my head and took off the boonie hat. I dropped them on the floor behind me so she could see my camouflage streaked face with its jawline beard and mustache. My long hair was fastened in a ponytail that fell down my back to the middle of my shoulder blades.
My blue eyes locked with hers as the light reflecting from the blade moved back and forth across them. The light and my eyes seemed to have mesmerized her, at least momentarily, as I saw her thighs relax a bit.
Slowly and cautiously and aware of her every movement, I approached until I was standing beside her. I was between her and the door and window on the front wall to block those possible escape exits. They weren't even an option, but as I'd learned over the years panic is blind.
The blade in my right hand continued to move and twist as I slowly brought it in front of her, the sharp primary edge turned toward her but slightly downward so it faced her breasts under the sweater rather than her throat. Her breasts and torso presented a much larger and less lethal target. Her eyes followed the knife and I could see them widen as she too realized this and understood a cut would be extremely painful and possibly disfiguring but not necessarily fatal.
Without warning my left hand flashed to the back of her head, tangled in her long hair and twisted. I pulled her head back as far as I could pull it. "Where the head goes the body follows" I'd been taught all those years ago. She was then arched with her head pulled back past the backrest of the chair and basically immobilized, her body trapped between the armrests.
"Remember what I said about getting cut, my slut, and hold very, very still," I said quietly in my moderately low voice as the cold steel of the knife's blade slid into the neckline of her sweater above her full tits� cleavage.
Then slowly, oh so slowly and deliberately I began to slide the knife downward, slicing the sweater apart. As the knit parted, it began to reveal her chest until the upper slopes of her breasts appeared and I paused. The tip of the blade was between her tits and was leaving a faint red line in its wake. The mark on her alabaster skin showed where it had been and pointed to where it was heading.
The pause allowed me time to drink in that first sight of her magnificent tits. They're at least a full C cup and perhaps even a D cup, I smiled to myself. Those are my favorite, big enough to enjoy without being too big. The "Holstein Cow Syndrome", as I call the huge breast fetish, isn't one of mine. Her figure was proportional, with her tits slightly large for her body but not by much.
I looked deeply into her eyes again and with a small smile said, "Oh yes, my little slut, just lovely. Your tits are big enough to play with, to torment and enjoy without being too big. I'm very pleased indeed. Now hold still as I get rid of the rest of these offending clothes." I jerked her hair back hard for emphasis before I lessened the pressure a bit.
The knife continued its journey down the valley of her chest, parted her sweater, then her bra. When it was slit it popped open and her full, luscious tits sprang from their confinement. Of course that meant another pause, with the tip of the blade just in her belly button. I note that it's an "innie", another plus.
Her tits were indeed lovely and luscious. Her areolas were a pale pink and nice and large. Her nipples were hard, whether from fear, arousal or the slight chill I didn't know, but they were very prominent and a nice width. I knew I would have a lot of fun with them.
A quick flick of my wrist and the rest of the sweater was cut, letting it part and fully expose her entire torso to me. "Mmmm," I think, "She'll be the perfect little slut and fuck toy if she trains well."
The pressure on her hair was quickly reversed, which pulled her head down between her knees and mine. My knees closed on the sides of her head, holding it in place as the hand in her hair twisted more to help. I slid the tip of the knife blade into the neck of the sweater and without pause sliced it and the back of her bra from neckline to waist.
Still holding her in place, I sheathed the knife and quickly gripped the shoulders of her sweater and bra and pulled them from her arms. I removed a set of cuffs from my belt and jerked her up again, released her hands and cuffed her before she could react. They were regulation police handcuffs and I closed them between her palm and wrist bones to give me the most control. I gripped and twisted the chain between the cuffs and brought her to her feet. Any movement would exert pressure on the wrist bones and cause more and more pain.
Using her wrists as a lead I took her to the shadowy rear of the cabin against the windowless wall. I clipped the chain between the cuffs to a lock on a rope that was looped over the rafters. Then she began to struggle but it was futile. The other end of the rope was slowly pulled and her arms were dragged upward until she was nearly on tiptoe in her hiking boots.
Her whimpers and small sounds had been rather subdued and quiet to that point, but then she began to plead and beg, to cry and wail in earnest. All was music to my ears and I moved to the chair, straddled it and watched as she squirmed and danced for me. Her breasts were pulled high on her chest by her position and bounced and jiggled wonderfully. I could feel my cock hardening as I watched.
"Soon, I think," I said to her. "Very soon I will have sampled all of your fuck holes, my little slut. Soon you won't have any place I haven't fucked or cum in. None."
I got up and walked over to her again and stopped just out of reach as one of her booted feet flashed toward my crotch. The move was predictable, I saw it in her eyes first, so I caught her foot and twisted it. I unlaced her boot and discarded it with her sock.
I took the Bowie from my belt again and slowly slid it into the leg of her jeans as I looked into her eyes again. Slowly higher and higher until another thin, red trail led past her waist and the leg was sliced from cuff to past the belt line. Her foot was released and as it dropped to the floor again the pants leg flapped in the air like a long, blue pennant.
She stood stock-still as I cut and stayed that way. She stared at me and tears streamed down her face. Quiet sobs were her only sound. Her rapid breaths and gasps made her tits move very nicely as they bounced and quivered. Her firm tit flesh jiggled and her hard nipples and crinkled areolas danced in the air.
"Now, my slut, you will slowly lift your other foot and place it in my hand. That foolish kick has already earned you a punishment, and you don't wish any more, I promise you. You will learn in time that I never lie, never. Believe me, you don't want any more punishment than you will already receive," I told her just loud enough to be heard over her sobs. I sheathed the knife again and stood with my left hand extended just far enough to take her foot.
Her teary blue eyes didn't leave mine as she very slowly shifted her weight and lifted her leg. The boot was placed gently in my hand as instructed and then unlaced and tossed with the other as is the sock. Out came the knife again and that leg was slit cuff to waist. The only thing that held her jeans and panties on her was the pressure from her other leg against her raised thigh.
I sheathed the knife and with one hard pull she stood before me, totally naked and exposed, helpless and vulnerable and all mine. The soft light from the lantern cast shadows across her body; the warm glow gave it a golden sheen. Her tears glistened as they fell onto her tits and a few wet her hard nipples before they dripped off like little gems falling to the floor.
"Mmm, so lovely, so precious and all mine," I thought aloud with a gentle smile. I moved two of the lanterns for better light and went to retrieve the long black bag I'd left in the shadows along a sidewall.
I took out a small collapsible table and set it up before her. I took out four locking, padded leather cuffs, a leather-lined steel collar and a wide leather belt, with locks for the collar and belt. All had welded steel rings, one on each cuff, three on the collar, and many on the belt.
Then there were the toys, toys for pleasure and toys for pain. There was a vibrator, a butt plug of medium size and a clit "butterfly", all with wireless remote controls; a four channel TENS unit, a thin bamboo cane and a braided riding quirt with a split tail, each tail cut to a sharp point. Pleasure and pain, pain and pleasure, they were part of the training aids for a new slut and perhaps slave to be.
Her "song" of whimpers and soft moans had been continuous while she watched much to my pleasure. Lifting a pair of the leather cuffs and the locks I stood before her again with an outstretched hand.
"Give me a foot, my slut, now. You have until I reach ten. One, two, three..."
He reached thirty and stood menacingly, his knife blade held so I could see just how much danger I was in. I heard him tell me he was going to cut my clothes from me and it was all I could do to keep from jumping from my chair and trying to claw through the very walls to get away. The knife holds my attention, though. His voice was calm and matter of fact as he said he would cut me if I tried to resist, and I believed him.
He took off his headgear and finally I saw my abductor's face. He was just as intimidating without the netting, his face streaked with paint to camouflage it. His icy blue eyes met mine and I was unable to look away. I was hypnotized by his gaze, or was it the reflection of the light as he turned the knife blade?
I'd been able to stay fairly calm, at least outwardly, but I could feel the panic rising as he moved slowly toward me. He continued to brandish the knife in front of me as he stepped up beside my chair.
He twisted and turned the blade in front of me as if to show his advantage and drive the terror even deeper into my heart. As he pointed it at my chest I could feel the fear driven adrenaline making me sweat. My eyes widened in anticipation of the feel of the knife-edge against my skin.
My instinct was to grab his hand as he twisted it in my hair and snapped my head over the back of the chair but I didn't reach for him. I could feel my body arch and my breasts automatically push outward and even closer to his blade.
His quiet voice was right next to my ear as he told me to remember what he said about getting cut. The world seemed to slow as he began to move the knife toward me. I felt it meet the neck of my sweater and begin to part the threads. I felt the sting as the edge of the cold, steel blade marked my skin with a thin line of fire and a whine of fear rose from my throat.
My skin prickled as he paused with the blade between my breasts to gaze at the bared swells now available to him and told me how pleased he would be to torment them. I wondered how badly he'd hurt me and whimpered involuntarily. As he cut through my bra and continued down the front of my sweater, my breasts sprang free from their constriction. I was embarrassed as my nipples hardened in the cabin's cool air. I didn't want to do anything to encourage him, but he paused once again to stare at them, the tip of the knife in my navel.
As he cut the back of my sweater apart and sheathed his knife, roughly yanking me back and forth by my hair, the tears welled up in my eyes. First terrified, now I was scared and embarrassed and angry that I was crying.
He released my hair but before I even settled in the chair he pulled a pair of handcuffs from his belt. He grabbed my wrists and locked them snugly. As he pulled and twisted the connecting chain, I immediately realized any struggling on my part hurt. I rose to my feet as he tugged on the cuffs and he led me to the back wall of the cabin.
When he locked the cuffs to the end of the rope hanging there I panicked and tried to pull away despite the pain of the steel cutting into my wrists. I struggled now, but my efforts were in vain as he easily pulled the rope and hoisted my arms until only my toes touched the floor. I ended up bobbing and twisting at the end of the rope.
"Please," I began to beg. "Please don't do this. If you'll just let me go I'll pretend this never happened." He said nothing, only watched me futilely tug at my bonds. He straddled the chair I'd wished to be out of only moments before to face me. Then I only wished I were back in the chair with my hands still free so I could have at least tried to escape while I had the chance. Tears streamed down my face and I continued to beg him to release me.
"Please," I sobbed, as if courtesies would make a difference. "Please don't hurt me any more. Just let me go."
"Soon, I think," he said, and for an instant I felt a spark of hope. Maybe he'd had a change of heart. I tried to regain control of myself, intending to plead harder. Then he continued and the ember died like a match in the wind. "Very soon I will have sampled all of your fuck holes, my little slut. Soon you won't have any place I haven't fucked or cum in, none.
As he got up and came toward me I kicked out at his crotch in reflex. He reacted instantly by catching my foot in his hands and twisting it a bit so I was even more off balance. He pulled off my boot and sock and tossed them aside, then pulled the knife from its sheath again. I could still feel the sting from his blade's slide down the front of my sweater.
He held my eyes with his as he began to cut through my jeans. I was unable to prevent the shiver that worked its way up my back as I tried very hard not to move. Suddenly I was glad for his control as I felt the sting of the blade's path up my leg.
He dropped my leg and I could see my jeans hanging open. A thin, red line rose up my leg to my waist. I was afraid to say anything else. I knew he would cut the other side off the same way and I didn't want him to be angry when he did it. I raised my eyes to look at him, unable to stop my tears. My breath caught in sobs as I tried to plead with my eyes.
His next words sent a chill of dread up my spine so that I only heard part of what he said. "That foolish kick has already earned you punishment... I never lie... more punishment than you will already receive." At that threat I suddenly became willing to comply for the moment no matter how I felt.
Our eyes were locked together as he held out his hand expectantly. I knew he must be able to read the defiant thoughts in my face. I slowly raised my foot and placed it in his hand. My boot and sock quickly joined the others and he sliced through the other leg of my jeans. With one quick pull they were gone and I was naked.
I stood there still sobbing softly as he stared at me. His eyes moved slowly over my body taking mental possession of it as he examined me. I heard him declare his ownership with a slight smile before he moved away.
He set up a small table and laid more cuffs and belts on it, each with locks and rings. I thought for a moment that restrained with all of those it would be impossible to escape, then I remembered that I already couldn't get away.
I shivered and whimpered as I thought of what he might yet do to me as he brought more things out. I recognized all but one. The vibrators wouldn't frighten me ordinarily, but they drove home the realization that he intended to use my body as his fucktoy. I knew the cane and riding quirt are meant for giving pain.
I moaned softly at the thought of the braided leather striking my tender skin. He had already told me he would punish me. I continued to moan my distress as he turned to me again. Locks and cuffs in one hand and the other outstretched, he demanded I give him my foot before he counted ten.
"Ten! That's not enough time!" I thought, panicked as he reached seven, then eight. Glancing at the table as he said nine, I realized there was no other choice but to give him my foot. I was cuffed securely anyway. I placed my foot in his hand just as his lips close around the word ten.
I placed my other foot in his hand like the first, shivering as each cuff locked around my ankles. He lowered the rope that held my arms above my head and unfastened the lock between rope and cuffs. I flexed my shoulders in momentary relief as he turned toward the table.
As he reached for me again I gathered all my courage and strength. I didn't want to stay and be at the mercy of the arsenal he'd prepared for me. I reached out and shoved him with both hands as hard as I could. He staggered backward and I stumbled toward the door. My only thought was my desire to escape.