Story: The Pouting Captive

Kelsey pretended that she hated it, but Jackson suspected otherwise. 

Oh, sure, the beautiful 19-year-old had kicked and screamed when he’d dragged her into his van, and screamed louder as he’d handcuffed her and bound her legs and then cut away her clothes with his knife.  The van was well-soundproofed, and it would do her no good, but he enjoyed the struggle and didn’t begrudge her for trying. 

And she’d sworn at him, and snarled, and tried to bite him as he’d caressed her face, and screamed threats as he squeezed her firm, ripe tits, and then wiggled his fingers between her legs to find the cleft of her pussy, and tease her clitoris and fuckhole. 

And she’d cried when he’d tired of her yelling, and begun coldly, methodically, slapping her across the face until she shut up, so that he could stick his cock into her and rape her without being deafened by her defiance. 

But her pussy had been wet for him – traitorously, subversively wet – and there had been a little shudder in her, a few minutes before he had ejaculated, that he strongly suspected had been a humiliating but well-hidden orgasm. 

She had wept more, when he had taken her home and shown her the basement, with its wire dog cage for her to sleep in, and the dog bowl that she would eat from, and he had mentioned how he would train her to be his perfect little fucktoy.  She had sworn, and yelled, as well, and this time he had merely locked her in her cage and let her yell, so that she could come to an appreciation of just how impossible it was for anyone to hear her or come to her aid. 

But she had been wet again that night when he raped her for the second time, and although she initially struggled and tried to keep her legs together to stop him from spreading them and accessing her pussy, he noted that once they were spread, and he had his cock inside her, she made several adjustments to her posture that made it significantly more pleasurable for both of them.  And although she kept struggling, Jackson thought the struggles were now more for show than with any serious attempt at escaping him. 

Over the following days, as he began to train her, she sulked, and she pouted.  She was *always* pouting, and he loved it, because she looked so sexy like that.  She was unhappy that she wasn’t allowed to wear proper clothes or cover her tits.   She was unhappy that he made her answer to “bitch” and “cunt” instead of her name.  She was unhappy that she had to call him “sir”, and that he would slap her if she didn’t.  She was unhappy that he would turn her over his lap and spank her ass as though she were a child whenever she was less than wholly submissive. 

And yet she was always, always wet for him.  She gasped in embarrassing, humiliating lust when he touched her tits or pussy.  When he made her suck his cock while he performed his work-from-home day job, he sometimes caught her looking up at him with something very much like desire as she suckled on his dick.  And when he fucked her, she found it harder and harder to conceal her orgasms. 

He grew suspicious that she had never truly tried to attack him, or escape.  He tried to push her boundaries.  He told her he would train her to go home and seduce and fuck her entire family – her father, mother, brother, and the family dog too.  He told her he would send nude photos of her to her friends.  He told her he would make her forget her own name, so she would no longer remember she had ever been called anything other than “cunt” or “bitch”. 

When he raped her that night, she orgasmed within seconds, and then came again a second time soon after.   She tried to stuff her fist in her mouth to muffle her slutty moans but they both knew what was happening. 

Kelsey’s final test was an accident.  Jackson hadn’t meant to do it, and he wouldn’t have if he had been paying attention.   One Sunday morning, he told Kelsey to spend the day masturbating while watching rape porn, and then he went out to buy the groceries. 

Halfway through the shopping, he felt his heart start to race, as he was filled with the sudden certainty that he had forgotten to lock Kelsey in the basement, *and* forgotten to close the front door. 

He raced home – but the front door *was* closed, and locked, and Kelsey *was* locked in the basement. 

He assumed it must have been a faulty memory.   

But that evening he became curious, and he accessed the footage from the security cameras he had installed throughout the house. 

The cameras showed him he had been right.  The door *had* been left open. 

And he watched as Kelsey rose from her masturbation in the basement and tested the basement door.   Upon finding it unlocked, she stood at the door for a while, and then ascended the stairs into the house proper. 

When she found the front door open, she stared at that, too.  Her fingers descended to her nude pussy, which was still wet, and she began to masturbate, as she stared out at the street – staring at her freedom. 

And then – making a little moaning sound that the security cameras managed to catch – she stepped forward, and closed the front door, and locked it.  And then she went downstairs, and locked herself in the basement.  And she went back to watching her rape porn, and masturbating. 

Jackson smiled.   

Kelsey knew what she was good for.  She knew what she needed in her life.  And she knew that Jackson had given her that life – a life she would never have found by herself. 

He went down to visit her in the basement, and found her pouting.  She swore at him for leaving her alone all day, and even gave him the middle finger.  He just smiled at her, and slapped her, and then gave her an extra violent raping. 

He didn’t tell her he knew what she had done that day.  But her shaking, quivering body and the pulsing of her pussy told him that she was taking the rape as the reward that he intended it to be. 

And he thought, near the end, as he ejaculated into her, that, just for a moment, her sulky pout transformed into a shy smile, of perfect happiness and contentment…

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