THE ELECTRICIAN Part 8
CONTINUED FROM HERE - This is a newly rewritten story, involving "Privateer" - get to know him....
“Mustn’t disturb the neighbors,” he whispered to himself as much as to her. “These cheap walls are pretty thin….”
When he finally got to his room and sat with her on the bed, he quickly yanked the stockings from her lax mouth and tied a thick rubbery cloth between her teeth, forcing her tongue down and stretching her lips back. Only then did he tear the recital dress from her body.
He untied her hands but immediately re-cinched them behind her back with handcuffs. He then also ankle-cuffed her with a slim silver hobble chain between her legs. It only gave her a few more inches, but that was enough.
She slept deeply as he lay her down beside him, one arm under her neck. His other hand slipped into her floppy cleavage. He began to squeeze rhythmically as his head grew closer to hers. Then his tongue was out, moistening her lips. Then his mouth was over hers, sucking and slobbering.
It went on for almost two hours as he gave her hickey after hickey, his lips suckling hers. Finally he laid one leg over hers, gripped her right breast as if it were a life preserver and fell asleep.
Some time during the night, Alissa finally awoke. She tried to speak in a distant gargling tone, and her legs rubbed against each other. He stirred in his sleep and she instinctively stilled, except for her hands, which twisted slowly in their cuffs. Feeling the metal at her joints and the intrusion deep across and in her mouth, her sleepy eyes closed and remained that way.
At least there was nothing in her cunt. It wouldn't last. She woke up to him fucking her again. Unaware she had awoken, he pumped into her, his hands on the mattress beside her slim waist. Her arms were back over her head, cuffed around a headboard bar, while her ankles were spread and cuffed to the baseboard so the hobble chain was taut. Her mouth was still forced open by the rubbery gag, but now it was also covered by a tightly tied tarp over her lower face.
He finally spurted, then collapsed on top of her. Seconds passed as he breathed heavily and she cringed in disgust, then his hand casually found her left breast and started squeezing.
"Good morning, dear," he breathed, his breath foul. "Now what should we do to you today?" He had her handcuffed, naked, in the shower. The ankle-cuffs were also still on. With the shiny metal pinioning her, she looked like a sexy little slavegirl. He lovingly applied shampoo to her silky mane, careful to caress her throat every few seconds, just to let her know how easy it would be to strangle her, or break her neck, if she tried to scream.
Another little reminder was the single strand of rubber-coated wire deep in her mouth that he had twisted tight against the back of her neck. While it kept the back of her tongue down, it really wouldn't have been effective if she had tried shrieking, but the fact that it was there at all was enough. Especially with him behind her, jiggling his cock into her splaying fingers and massaging every inch of her with soap.
During the slow, laborious cleansing, he would often cup her jaw, force her head up, and cover her lips with his own, his tongue jamming into her mouth as she screwed her eyes shut and shuddered in revulsion. Then his fingers would hook between her legs and the shower would continue as he massaged her clit while gripping her throat.
Finally even he had to admit they had taken long enough. She felt him still behind her. He felt her tense in front of him. Ah, the poor girl, he thought. Her youth won't let her comply. Even though she knew there was very little chance of escape, she still couldn't just sit there and let him redress and retie her. She'd have to try something.
And, he knew, that realization excited him all the more. Waking up earlier, seeing her there lying asleep next to him, he initially thought he wouldn't want to fuck her again after all the times he had impaled her the previous day. But then he looked down at her pretty face, serene in sleep, and across her sexy, shapely, firm little body, her tits swelling with every breath, and he got hard all over again.
His head fell back, his eyes staring at the ceiling, as he grabbed her throat from behind in a vice-like grip.
Alissa's eyes widened, her mouth jerking open, as he cut off her air. Her cheek and tits flattened against the shower tile, the water coursing down her back as he expertly choked her. Her hands scrambled back, trying to find his cock, but they were separated by the length of his arms. He looked down, watching as her clawing fingers kept just missing the bobbing crown of his penis. Then he looked up again, picturing her lovely young face and her expressions of shock, dread, fear, shame, despair, and helplessness. His cock got longer and her fingertips just started tapping it.
She tried to control her muscles, but it was too late. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't scream. Her eyes bulged, her mouth opened, and her tongue came out, its back still held down by the wire. Her right hand finally gripped his cock shaft, but by then she was too weak to squeeze or twist.
He watched her hold him, then felt her fingers loosen. Her arms dropped and her knees buckled. He held on until he had laid her in fetal ball on the tub floor.
It was inevitable. He was an electrician. And since it was the second full day of her subjugation, and he got the ball rolling with strangulation, it had to happen.
As an electrician he had noticed the stretch metallic tie thong bikini in the shop he had burgled with special interest. Now Alissa was (almost) wearing it, the tiny silver top patches pulled aside to bunch her breasts, and the bottom just barely covering her thatch. Since it was z tie suit he had knotted it at her hips and around her back so tightly that her skin bulged around it.
Then there were the matching thigh-high five-inch high heel boots and his special addition; a cut of the electrician's knife down the center of the bikini bottom so that her cunt was all but displayed.
She was crying and begging uncontrollably as she had from almost the moment she had awoken in the workshop, the single bulb hanging from the ceiling illuminating her predicament with ailing yellow light. She lay on a specially secure workhorse, it's top plank wider than usual so that her back could rest on it without falling over. Not that she was doing much resting.
Her arms were wrenched behind her, each wrist and elbow secured with tape and rubber coated wire to the back horse legs. Her legs were stretched wide, each ankle and bended knee lashed to the front horse legs. A wedge was pushed under her back so her chest and crotch were thrust upwards.
TO BE CONTINUED