Her Captor

by Walt A.K.A. Xan

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© Copyright 2009-2020 - Walt A.K.A. Xan - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; bond; gag; rope; enslave; straps; spank; training; blindfold; armbinder; reluct; XX

Continues from

Chapter 4: Her Groom

Sleeping bound and gagged,

she wakes stiff but excited,

because he returned. 

Her dreams transcended all reality, vivid and surreal. She dreamed of her captor but not of the man that now owned her. He was making her do things that she never dreamed she could manage. Doing whatever he required of her made her nipples ache with pleasure, her body glow with anticipation and her pussy vibrate and quake with tiny jolts of desire. She never wanted to wake up from this dream but someone was removing the straps holding her to the massage table.

Last night, she had fallen asleep in the bath. Her new master had helped her out of the tub and wrapped her up in a heated robe and wound a heated towel around her hair. Guiding her over to the massage table he got her situated face down on the table, with her face in the little donut. Still semi-out-of-it, she barely felt him tie her crossed wrists behind her back and her ankles, side-by-side. The last thing she remembered was that he pulled her head up and layered some tape over her lips and lower face.

Obviously, she had been asleep when he added several well-placed straps across her bound body. Now someone was removing them. She couldn’t see him, so she just waited. The hands didn’t feel like her new masters though. Then she felt someone close to her ear.

In a whisper, his deep male voice said, “You inconvenienced your new master last night.”

It was him,” she thought, “her captor!” 

“Before he left this morning, he gave me instructions to give you a hard spanking before I feed you and put you to work learning your station. Do not fight me or I will just go harder, making the spanking longer and more painful.”

It was HIM!” Her thoughts began spinning out of control. “The same menacing voice, the same commanding presence, the same scent.” 

He picked her up like she was a child, carried her to what must have been the sofa in front of the entertainment center, sat down and manhandled her across his lap. His mannerisms were rough and authoritative but not brutal. She knew instinctively he was in total command.


Shock went through her mind with the fiery burn of that first impact.


Her other cheek erupted with the same burn!




SMACK! ~ ~ ~

From her hips to her upper thighs, everything burned. Pain registered, but it was a different type of pain! She’d had stubbed toes and paper cuts that hurt more. As he continued to pulverize her butt cheeks the pain turned again from a fiery burn to a deep, hot, thud. Her mind began to soar with the thought that this man had the raw power to really injure her, but that he wasn’t. Soon thoughts of her pain were diverted with the realization that this man was getting aroused! She’d never even considered that a man could get hard from spanking a woman’s bare butt, but this wonderful man was. And from what she could tell, he was long and thick too. Her mind skyrocketed up through the clouds of pain.

Scooting out from underneath her, past her legs, he got up but returned shortly and untied her ankles. May began to giggle from behind her taped lips when she felt him putting her high heels back on her feet and buckling the straps around each foot holding them on. When he was done, she gave a short little flutter, kicking her toes into the couch to feel the effect her movement had on her bum. To her amazement, it actually felt kind of good! 

When he helped her stand, she tottered slightly getting her balance and then lifted her chin proudly as he re-attached her collar and lead. He pulled her over to the washer and after pulling the robe down over her bound wrists, like he’d done when he first stripped her, he tied her upper arms close together. Untying her wrists, he pulled the robe off and then re-tied her wrists before pulling the towel off her head. She heard him open the washer and throw both things in. He got something out of a cabinet and the next thing she heard was him starting the load.

Pulling her past the folding table, he sat her down at the dressing table. Sitting on a freshly spanked bottom was another new experience. Her butt was very sensitive, but not very painful. After crossing her legs, right knee over the left, he tied a couple of loops around her right ankle and then continued to loop a wide band of rope around her left calf and right ankle, effectively tying her legs so that it would be very difficult to uncross them. May felt very sexy tied like this.

To her utter amazement, he started to brush out her long hair. She’d washed it last night but failed to do anything with it because she’d fallen asleep. Now he was brushing out all the knots, spraying some kind of fine scented mist on her hair. She imagined it was an untangler but being blind she couldn’t be sure. Besides, being bound hand and foot, and having a very yummy man brushing her hair made her just melt. She’d never had such a delicious experience, ever. No one ever played with her hair enough. He would brush for a while and then run his fingers through her hair, moving his hand up against her scalp, and then running his open fingers down the length of her mane as if seeing how effective his brushing techniques were. May was lost in this exotic treatment that was more erotic than practical, when she felt his hand go up to the back of her scalp again. Moving his splayed fingers from side to side around the crown of her head, he suddenly made a deliberate fist, pulling a large amount of hair with an overall even pressure. Holding his fist closed and using her hair to move her head around was beyond hot and sexy.

May almost swooned from the ecstasy of this control! This man knew how to exact total compliance out of a bound and gagged woman. Anyone could tie another person up and make them do anything humanly possible, but she imagined very few men could light up every nerve in a woman and convince her mind that obeying him was a natural and necessary counterbalance to his masculinity. It also made her want to stay tied and gagged, lest, in her exuberance to please him, she’d say or do something that he didn’t want her to do. He would release her and guide her with his dominance for anything he wanted from her. She would do anything for this man, follow him anywhere, either bound and led on a leash or freely heeling him like a faithful hound.

She knew it would take a strong and accomplished woman to heel for a man like this. Wishy-washy pampered princesses would drown, because they could never survive the tidal waves of raw manhood pouring off this man. He was educated and accomplished, in addition to his natural talents and attributes, therefore if she wanted to be his, she couldn’t afford to be weak. At that moment she found motivation for the training she had been told he would provide. She would learn to be as indispensable as he was undisputable. She needed to learn to be a strong, faithful, talented and well-trained slave, who was enough to balance his manly dominance.

With his release, he used the last few brush strokes to smooth out the fall of her long hair that was now straight, as it was naturally, and uncurled. He put no curl in it but May had no doubt that he could if he wanted to. He did bundle her hair into a high ponytail with a scrunchie and he fussed with it until it suited whatever aesthetic he was after.

“Now hold still,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m going to apply some mascara and lengthen your lashes a bit.”

Not daring to move even the tiniest muscle, May sat like a statue while he made her eyes look pretty. She felt sad that she couldn’t see the job he was doing on her, but as long as it pleased him, she beamed with pride.

“Now I’m going to take your simple gag off and paint some whore-red lipstick on you. Until after your breakfast, you will not say one word. I will give you a short talk-time after we eat and as a reward for diligent service after lunch, if you earn it. Now hold still while I clean the adhesive off your face.”

When he led her out of the refresher area, and down the short corridor to the dining/kitchen area, May was multitasking. First off she was again counting her steps, and at the same time trying to figure out what she would ask this wonderful man once he gave her the chance. He’d told her that it would be a short talk-time, so she wanted to squeeze in as much as she could. Her mind was reeling with questions, but she wanted to whittle down the unnecessary and silly questions like “where am I”. She didn’t care where she was as long as she was with him.

He guided her to the proper and acceptable position by the table with verbal commands like the other guy did, but this time he ordered her to practice her kneeling. He guided her with voice and touch for the first few times, showing her how to be as graceful as possible as she did this simple positioning. Then he went to prepare his breakfast, leaving her to practice until he told her to quit.

“Thinking about it, we might as well start talk-time a little early, considering this is your first day of training. So, go ahead, ask away.”

Clearing her throat, May held her head up and asked, “Sir, would you bless this slave by telling me your name?”

“Wow, no ‘where am I’ or ‘what am I doing here’, or ‘why me’? I’m surprised, but pleased. You’ve been a good girl since we met so I see no reason not to tell you who is going to train you for Roy. My name is Duke. No kidding, it’s my real given first name, not a nickname. My parents were big John Wayne fans and they wanted something distinctive for their child. You may call me Duke when we are alone, but in front of Roy, or any one of the High Lords or Ladies, you must address me as M’Lord Groom. And Roy is always Master, or if he suggests intimacy, Master Roy. I’m a very informal person as long as I see results, but Roy is ‘Old School’. I will be training you to please him, not me. Now in training mode I can be a harsh taskmaster, but that is just the way Roy wants it and you do belong to him.”

But I need to belong to you,” she thought.

“Duke, is there a history to you, Master Roy, and this place that I should know about, so that I may be a better slave?”

She knew she may have overstepped her privilege but the smell of the maple sausage he was frying up was very distracting.

“You do have a keen mind, don’t you? That was a very perceptive question, so I’ll give you the down-low considering that you will never be allowed to leave here. This place is called A-H Estates and it was started a little over 30 years ago. You were a young girl when the movie came out, but did you ever see ‘The Story of ‘O’?” 

“No Duke, but I’ve heard it’s some French story about a sex mansion for training women, ...”

Duke saw her stop her kneeling practice and get slapped with a reality check. He chuckled, knowing how her mind must be reeling with the enormity of that thought. Before she could fully gather her wits Duke continued.

“Well, I see you made the obvious connection. Yes, this is a secret club for the very rich and/or very elite, that is designed for and services those men, and a very few select women, that want to indulge in the heights, or depths, depending on your perspective, of BDSM play. Being Americans, we had no heritage to fall back on, like the Europeans, but we did have the same ingenuity that made this country as impressive as it is. Our founders are mostly retired or dead now, but this club is now more impressive than anything Europe has. Now Asia gives us a run for our money, and so does the Middle East, but we hold our own. 

“The women that come here are the most beautiful, talented, educated and motivated that our screening process can find and sort out. You would be shocked at the vetting process. I’m not bragging, but one is a gold medal winner in Olympic gymnastics from a few years back. Another is royalty from one of the Arab emirates. We have several daughters of billionaires among the chosen, a Nobel Prize winner, and several beauty queens just to name a few. Women in the know compete fiercely for a chance to be enslaved by us. Some figure it’s easier to stay in the States than to go off to one of the foreign training facilities. Others just like the way us Yanks do things.

“Now there are girls, like you, that were just kidnapped and brought here. The ones that have pissed off some prominent members of society, the spoiled princesses, the recalcitrant trophy wives, and those that simply need to wear the chains of unremitting slavery. They usually occupy the lowest stations on the food chain around here. They’re pretty easy to spot around the Estate grounds. They’re all shaved bald and wear clear plastic hooker-heels, plastic cuffs and rubber hoods most of the time while they do their chores. One of them comes down here every other day to do the scut-work that Roy thinks is too demeaning for you to do. He really does want you as a pleasure slave. He can command any of those chattel to do the menial work.”

With that Duke finished his plate, brought her gruel over and sat his plate down at the table. Hearing him do this, May froze in her kneeling position so that he could tie her crossed ankles. Duke did, sat down, and fed the both of them, just like Roy had done last night.

May was disappointed when she heard him scraping his plate clean and he must have seen the expression on her face because he laughed, which embarrassed her. He reached over and pulled her lowered head up and continued speaking to her.

“I’m not like Roy. I like my food and I’m the only one that eats it, but I believe you get more with honey, as they say, so I treat with chocolate.”

And with that he popped a good-sized square of expensive Swiss chocolate in her mouth, which she opened as soon as he mentioned the ‘C’ word. Letting it melt slowly, May savored her treat, and because it came from Duke, it tasted even better. While she indulged, Duke went on with his explanation.

“The men here are the most elite this country has to offer. This club makes the Skull & Crossbones, the Masons, the Illuminati and other notable societies look like a backwoods club for the good-ol’-boys. We have the most extensive vetting process in the free world, with most of our background checks coming, in part, from one or more of the alphabet soups that protect this country. I’m just a journeyman groom and I make low to mid six figures a year working here. I have several million dollars invested with the owners, earning 17+% annually. I might be able to squeak out more elsewhere, but here it’s guaranteed to never fall below that. And I’m not even a full groom yet. I’m apprenticed to Roy, who’s training me. I actually get graded on what I accomplish with you. Okay, one last question before we get started.”

May thought a bit and then asked, “What is Master’s position in the scheme of things at A-H Estates?”

“Roy is a full groom who started out here as a groom when they first got started. He was the chief trainer/groom for the last 30 years and wrote the book on getting the most out of women, whether they want to give it or not. Now he’s retired, and they lease him this underground private residence on the property, just to keep him around. The High Lords honor Roy and they gave him you for a retirement gift. You were slated to become one of the nameless bald chattels, but Roy took a liking to you. He said that you got railroaded by that shrew-bitch that was married to the man you were sleeping with. He went through committee to have you transferred to his care, so beware. If you really piss Roy off, or just don’t please him quickly enough, I may have to come down here one day, shave your head and escort you to the chattel’s pen.”

“One more question please Duke?”

Make it a short one.

“Do you want me to service you orally, or in any way you choose?”

“Again, I’m not like Roy. You haven’t earned the right to service me sexually, yet.”

Disappointed but more determined than ever to earn that right, May followed his lead back to what she perceived to be the spartan cell she woke up in, just yesterday. Today though the door had been open long enough for the cell to be room temperature. As he untied her she fantasized about what it would take to arouse his interest in her. 

Starting her lessons, he said, “Sit down on your new cage/bed, take your heels off and be waiting for me with your legs crossed, head up, and tits out. You should also shake out your shoulders. You’ll be restrained rather severely until sometime after lunch. I’m going to go get your outfit for the morning.”

While Duke was gone May did some stretching exercises and was positioned as instructed when Duke returned. It seemed like forever but in the dark, time is distorted.

Duke dropped a load of things on the cage/bed and handed May a flat package of pantyhose.

“First off, tactilely inspect your fingernails and toenails for snags.” 

Finding a couple of rough spots on her toenails she indicated them to Duke, who handed her an emery board. Carefully as she could, she rounded the offending spots and then laid the file down.

“Now, as carefully as possible, remove the hose from the package and try to put them on without pulling a run in them.”

May worked very slowly and methodically. She succeeded with the first pair.

“Okay, take them off and do it again. Remember, practice does not make perfection; practice makes improvement. I noticed that you went very slowly the first time, so I want you to go just as slowly for the next few times. We are working on muscle memory for the newly blind. Your muscles have new skills to learn now that you can’t guide your actions with your sight.”

Finally, after eleven tries she heard Duke say, “Stop. You just pulled a run on the inside of your left leg. Take those off and we’ll start a new pair.”

This went on for an hour or two. She couldn’t really tell exactly how long she worked on this, but she had ruined four pairs of pantyhose and was working on the fifth. Before she could take these off though, Duke said, “Keep them on” 

He handed her a pair of high heels with just an ankle strap. These had an even higher arch than the ones she’d worn this morning. Guessing, she’d put them at a half an inch higher than the first pair. They would take some getting used to. Duke made her take these off and put them back on several times, just like the hose. Satisfied she wasn’t going to run the hose, Duke moved on to the skirt.

“This is a mid-calf length, leather hobble skirt May, and once you step into it, I’ll have to lace up the waist in the back. When time permits, I will teach you how to do it.”

With May holding it in place, Duke laced it tight to her waist. Before she could experiment much, Duke pulled her arms behind her back and slipped another piece of leather over her arms and buckled it tightly around her upper arms. With her arms locked together and her elbows touching, he slipped some kind of a leather sheath over both of her arms. Working a set of retaining straps over her shoulders that criss-crossed over her upper chest he snugged these up. They kept the sheath from slipping off her arms. Then with practiced dexterity he started lacing the sides of this sheath together over her arms.

“This is called a double arm sheath, a single-sleeve, or a mono-glove. This is one of Roy’s favorite articles of restraint for a slave to wear, so you will have to get used to it. I like them too. You can keep a woman’s arms bound behind her back longer with one of these than you can with rope or even straps.”

As he knotted off the pull strings, he went back to the retaining straps and did a final snug-up on them, so they fit her closely and added to her restraint. Finished with the single-sleeve he removed the strap on her upper arms and let her settle into her new bondage.

“These contraptions distribute the pressure on the arms more evenly and don’t cut into the nerve plexus or cut off the circulation as quickly. Let’s hope you can learn to like them. Now, let’s go for a nice long walk.”


she must prove herself to Duke

to pique his desire.

Continues in


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