Stepmother’s Plan 8 (https://tentaclestories.wordpress.com/2015/12/20/stepmothers-plan-8/)
Alisa sits on the brown couch with her legs crossed. She looks at her kidnapper, the one in charge and the one whom is responsible for much of her misery in the past few days. He’s cleaning the dishes at the kitchen and doesn’t even bother to check if she is planning to escape or not. Well, it’s obvious that she won’t be able to escape anyways.
Still, Alisa can’t help but to feel angry as to how complacent he can be with her. It’s like he’s challenging her to commit something heinous to him, something like breaking the bottle of wine that’s just a few feet away from her and then use it to cut his neck. Alisa’s tempted to but she can’t figure out a situation where she can still ask him for the code to open the door after injuring him. Either he would be bleeding too much before he could tell her, or he would be bleeding too little and subdues her within seconds. Either way, both would land her in big trouble.
Infuriatingly, he knows it. He knows how much she wants to escape, how much she would do to reclaim her freedom, but yet powerless to do so. His smugness tells her that. His complacency is screaming that right into her face. Why won’t he? He is certain that there’s nothing she can do to get out. And that, Alisa knows. That’s why she’s nibbling her fingernail in frustration. He finally finishes the dishes and walks up to her. Alisa sits up straight and wonders what he has entailed for her now. She can tell he’s not happy from the way he stomps his way towards her.
“Stand up.” he snaps.
Alisa stands up without even hesitating. Her legs begin to tremble. She is both puzzled and terrified, thinking to herself what has she done wrong.
“Undress.” he orders.
‘What?” she stammers.
“I said undress!” he raises his voice and her heart races.
Just a moment ago he cooked for her and played her a song with the grand piano. Now, it is a hundred and eighty degree turn. He’s livid. And for no apparent reason.
“I won’t say this again.” he barks and startles Alisa.
She quickly pulls her t-shirt away and drops it to the ground. Reluctantly, she unhooks her skirt and lets it fall. Her eyes redden and tears roll down her cheek. Her chest quivers as sobs escape her.
“Get down on your four.” he instructs.
Alisa drops to her knee and then bends forward until her hands are touching the ground. She is no longer sobbing. She’s wailing. She keeps her eyes on the ground. She doesn’t dare to even look at him now. She hears the opening and closing of a cupboard.
“Am I your maid?” he hisses angrily.
Alisa shakes her head. Immediately, a sharp sting bites her ass and she yelps. He has hit her with a cane.
“No.” she cries.
“What do you say when someone cooks for you?”
Alisa heart clenches. She bites her lower lips. She hesitates and that hesitation rewards her another strike to her ass. She lets out another agonizing yelp.
“What do you say?” he hisses directly into her ear.
“Thank you.” she whimpers.
“You know that too, didn’t you. I would have thought your dad have not taught you any manners.” he says sardonically. “And from this instance, you shall address me as master, am I clear?”
“Yes.” she cries and the cane comes down hard on her ass again.
“Yes what?” He growls as he hold her hair.
“Yes, master.” she hicks.
“As long as you are here, I own you.” he breaths into her ear. “If I tell you to sit, you sit. If I tell you to stand, you stand. If I tell you to fuck the wine bottle, you fuck the wine bottle. Am I clear?”
“Yes, master.” Alisa doesn’t think anymore. She will just answer what he wants to hear.
“You are not here for vacation. Am I clear?” he canes her ass again.
“Good.” he throws the cane to the couch.
The man unbuckles his belt and takes off his jeans. He kneels behind Alisa with his hands gripping her hips. With a strong tug, Alisa’s ass jerks backwards. Her pussy stretches painfully as she swallows his length. Alisa lets out a small cry.
“Move your hips.” he instructs and lets go of her hips.
Alisa doesn’t hesitate. She doesn’t dare to. Her fear forbids that. She’s now acting out of fear. She rocks her body front and back, reluctantly milking the cock with her pussy.
“Good.” he groans in pleasure. A sound Alisa hasn’t despise it more than now.
Despite her reluctance, she wills her body to go on. She wants to stop so badly her hands fist to a tight ball. She bites her lower lips again in an attempt to stop herself from crying. She even tastes blood as she tears the skin.
The humiliation takes almost forever for Alisa. She keeps hoping that he would finish soon every single moment she’s forcing herself onto him. She has never felt like this in her life. That she’s just an object of pleasure for him. And that he controls her. A self lubricating hole for him to use, to pleasure himself. The thought makes her sob without end.
Finally, he takes charge, grabbing her hips and begins fucking her. His hands pull her hips towards himself as his hips thrust forward. Then she feels him twitching inside her. The subtle sign that he’s about to let out a load. She wants to move away. The thought of having his seeds inside her makes her stomach cringe. But she doesn’t dare to. Moving away would only mean more trouble for her. So she reluctantly stays put.
He lets out a low groan as he tenses. His hands pull her hips hard and every inch of him sinks deep inside her. Spurt of warm sticky semen bursts out from his cock, spraying her inner walls with his seeds. She can only wait in despair for his cock to fill her up. When he’s done, he removes himself. He stands up and walks to the front and kneels down again.
“Clean it.” he says.
Her vision turns red in anger. She can almost smell blood. She stares furiously at the cock that is glistening with her vaginal discharge and his semen; a blend of white and translucent coating. She has never been this livid in her life. But what can she do, chomp it off? She doesn’t have the capacity to do that. He’d kill her before she could even severe it. It would be painful for him but the aftermath would hurt her even more. Dejectedly, she opens her quivering mouth and lets him stuff it inside. Obediently, she wraps her lips around his length and watches him thrusts his hips a few times.
“Swallow it.” he finally removes his cock before clamping her mouth with his hand.
Unable to spit it out, she has no choice but to swallow it. It is utterly disgusting as the degrading fluid passes down her throat. He then stands up and puts on his jeans again.
“Now, dress up.” he says.
Alisa’s sobbing has already subsided to involuntary hicks. Instead of feeling sad, she feels humiliated. That bottle of wine suddenly seems very tempting but she controls herself. Now is not the time to do irrational acts, she tells herself. She’ll retreat in defeat for now. She’ll obey everything he says. Hell, she’ll also lick his cock if he needs her to. For now, she tells herself, she will be the woman he wants. It will only take so much complacency before he does a mistake. A mistake that Alisa will exploit. A mistake that will be the end of him. Alisa promises herself that; that she’ll make sure he pay for what he has done.
Luther can see it in her eyes that she has not broken down. The girl amazes him. Usually at this point, his subjects will have succumbed to his highs and lows tactic.
It’s common in the boot camp. The first week is the week that trainers torture their trainees with the worst form of punishment. Even the slightest of mistake, which would be brushed off during a normal day, is used as an excuse to punish them. This is to instill fear, to solidify the notion that not even the mildest form of misbehavior is tolerated. The trainees won’t even so much dare to misplace a stainless steel mug again for the rest of the training duration. And it usually works.
The first day of the second week is usually much less stricter than the first. It’s a trap, of course. This is to check if there are mavericks within the group. It only takes one rotten apple to ruin the whole basket. Thus, a second punishment, usually involving power play and humiliation, is executed. This should clear off the mavericks, leaving nothing but obedient and malleable trainees for the trainers to bend into a disciplined squad.
That’s exactly what Luther has been doing up till now. The first week was to instill fear and hopelessness to her. It was to show her how merciless he can be when it comes to punishment. Then the cooking and piano playing, a classic trap he uses on his subjects all the time, to further weed out the thought of disobedience.
Anger from his subject is inevitable. But yet, after all that, her eyes still burn with will to escape this place. The eyes that tell Luther his latest subject may prove to be more difficult that it seems at first.Alisa, despite her reputation, isn’t really all that easy to break. Luther feels challenged. It’s been so long since he feels so fired up. He will, he says to himself, have to change tactic to get through her.
Stepmother’s Plan 10 (https://tentaclestories.wordpress.com/2015/12/23/stepmothers-plan-10/)