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Hunted (I)


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on: June 29, 2019, 02:32:06 PM

I'm a 35-year-old boy, and the story I'll tell you still has me in the lead.

It started when I decided to move to a city in the interior of my country, for professional reasons. In the big city it was hard for me to find a decent job, so I got tired and ended up working as an illegal employee in a village pharmacy, in very uncomfortable conditions, and with two university degrees to my credit. He lived in a third-class pension, but he had hopes for improvement. So, one night, I decided to go out and dance in one of the few discotheques in the city. And that was the fateful mistake that led me to fall into the clutches of my present mistress, Miss Silvia.

When I saw her for the first time, leaning against a corner, her height caught my attention: above her red shoes with cue she was almost as tall as I, who am 1.80 m tall. She wore blonde hair and a dark grey dress that covered her up to fifteen centimetres above the knee. Her legs were sheathed in black lycra stockings.

She wasn't skinny, but she didn't have many pounds left over either: she looked like a beautiful 30-year-old woman to me. I approached, and we were talking, until we ended up at one of the tables sharing a few beers. She told me that her parents had lived in the area for many years, dedicated to winemaking activities, and that now she was alone, as she had separated from her husband, who returned to Buenos Aires, her father had died and her mother was hospitalized with senile dementia in a geriatric hospital in an important city nearby, so she had been in charge of the farm for three years. And he wasn't doing too badly. He had managed to place his wines on the European market and was planning to set up a farm in Spain, where he owned land that belonged to his father's family.

We talk about everything a little bit, even issues related to sex... Since I felt so good, I told him about my fantasies: my affection for sadomasochism and transvestism, although I made it clear that I only liked women. She laughed and said she understood, for she had met other men with such fantasies.

I think that motivated her to hunt me down. Soon he knew he was alone in the city, the boarding house where he lived, etc. He offered to give me a place in his house, which was very big, so that I could feel safer. Of the progress of our relationship, he said, time would take care of it. I accepted, because it was hard enough for me to pay the quarter of bad death that became my dwelling. We agreed that the next day I would have to wait for her in a bar near the bus terminal at 9 pm. And he's gone.

Punctually, at the agreed time, I found my bags in the bar. When she was already in despair, she appeared, approached me and told me to wait for her when she got back, in a little-traveled street.

Then a black 4x4 with dark glass was parked and a back door opened. From the inside and without getting out, he told me to throw the bags in the back seat and get in. That's how I did it. He took me down an avenue to the road out of town.

At about 20 km he took a dusty road to the mountains. Suddenly, he stopped the truck and looked at me. He told me he liked me, and he put his face closer to mine. I was a thousand. He gave me some amazing kisses, sticking his tongue down my throat. Then I corresponded as a gentleman, kneading her pretty tits and caressing her conchita through her panties.

The fever was huge. Then she took me by the head and took me to her sex: the wet panties gave off a penetrating smell that made me even worse: I ran the obstacle and walked it with my tongue until she had her first orgasm. In an instant and almost without realizing it, he moved his hands into a front seat pocket and I felt almost immediately an electric shock that left me groggy.

When I woke up, I was lying on the back, on the floor, blindfolded, my hands chained behind my back and attached to my ankles, which I also had tied with a plastic strip or something. A thick blanket completely covered me. I tried to move, but when I wanted to lift my head I discovered that something was hanging me when I tried. I looked like I was wearing a hanging necklace, like dogs wear.

And so we travelled for a time which seemed endless to me, for I was half dead of thirst because I had had tea with sugar in the bar. Suddenly the van stopped. I felt a door open and someone came down. After a while he went up again, advanced a few meters and stopped, going down again.

I was already desperate: I was trying to free my hands, but it was hurting me. I could barely breathe through my nose because I had a cold, I had something inside my mouth that I couldn't spit out, and the chain in my neck hung me every time the car moved through a bump, and I was unlucky enough to get away from my restraint.

He walked a few more minutes until he stopped in what looked like a garage. There the door opened and I felt it unlock the chain around my neck. He released my legs and pulled gently, telling me I could get off. Just as I was, bound and numb, I had to be helped by her not to break my nose against the floor. He led me through a series of corridors into the house.

Suddenly he stopped and told me to sit down, guiding me until I touched something with my legs. He pushed me and I sat on something soft.  I heard him tie the chain to some metal and suddenly he took off my bandage, being dazzled by the light. I was able to appreciate when my eyes became accustomed that I was in a small room, painted pale pink. An iron door, now open, with a small window closed by the same material in the center communicated with the corridor.

The floor was colonial tile. In the room there was a white lacquered library with many books on the wall in front of me, a small door next door and what seemed to be a closet next.  The rest of the furniture was completed by a white chest of drawers, a table with a white light, on which there was a lit candle and the bed on which he sat, which was also white but with spouts, like those of the old hospitals. Then she began to speak: she told me that she too had long had fantasies, and that she had decided to kidnap a man in order to humiliate him and use him as her sex toy. I listened to her attentively.

Standing in front of me, hands resting on his waist, he went on to say that when I confessed my fantasies he decided for me. Not to worry, because I would be well cared for and cared for, but I made it clear that I had lost my freedom forever. He told me to pretend I was married to her.

Of course my place would be that of your slave. She also indicated to me, with a sly smile, that I should dress in the woman's clothes that she would give me from now on and that my appearance should be a little more feminine.  Of course, I wanted her to function as a man in everything else, penetrating her, or rather she would make sure of this. He told me to be good, not to shout, because nobody would listen to me, that he was going to take off my gag. That's how he did it. He pulled a knotted sock out of my mouth. I immediately felt a mixture of fear and anger: what right did I have to take away my freedom like that? Would I be crazy?  I told him that. He laughed. He made me realize I wasn't in a good position to argue, slapping me. I got angry, and since her legs were free, I gave her a terrible kick that threw her against the library. He fell on the floor. I then took the opportunity to try to get out: my hands were attached to my back with a chain and padlocks. The situation of the neck chain didn't suit me either: it was tied to the metal bed by means of a strong padlock.

At that moment he got up and left the room: I was screaming like crazy. One minute he was back, carrying a kind of pipe from the tip of which came a loop. I barely had time to notice when I was linked. He pulled hard on the other end of the cord and started hanging me. He told me not to make it difficult. I was drowning. Quickly, he started hitting me in the face with his hands. Then I fell and hit the wall with a terrible blow. It wasn't lerda, and she took the opportunity to tie my legs with a packing tape. Quickly, he loosened the loop on my neck, and then I breathed desperately. She told me the next time I hit her like this, she'd kill me slowly. At that moment I realized that I couldn't do much more for now, so I didn't resist.

From the closet he took out a chain and joined my feet, leaving a separation of approximately 30 cm. In half, he attached this chain to one of the bars at the foot of the bed. Then he came up to me and spat in my face, he gave me three tremendous blows and warned me again. He said I should get dressed and settled in now, and if I tried anything, I'd have a really bad time. I was already preparing a new escape strategy. But I didn't know what kind of person I was dealing with. He left and came back with the pick he'd used on the car. He gave me two terrible discharges again, which gave me a feeling of death. Now he was paralyzed. That was the moment he used to take off my clothes: first he let go of my feet and took off my trousers, stockings and underpants; half paralyzed and fearful, I barely moved.

With a pair of scissors, he cut off my shirt: now I was completely naked. With bandages, he attached my feet to the ends, shortened the neck chain, so I could no longer separate much from the bed, and left. She came back with a hot waxing bowl: the very unfortunate one depilated all the part in front of my body, causing me great pain. When he finished, he said that I had to turn around and that he would tie me up in a different way, so he should take extreme care of me. Maybe I already realized that even if I managed to hit her, he was chained and would never get out. I decided to turn myself in and look for some other opportunity.

He helped me turn around, released my hands from my back and neatly handcuffed each one to one end of the bed. He waxed my arms and the rest of my body. He told me that I would let go of my arms, but that I would still be chained to the bed by the middle of my neck. And get dressed.

I was first given a black pantyhose, made of lycra, too big for a pregnant woman. When I put it on he told me that I should wear a pair of black and quite thick medibachas, which I did under his close supervision. When I saw that he was doing something wrong, he would sweetly correct me. It seemed better to me: I wouldn't piss her off anymore for now. So dressed, I looked pretty ridiculous.  He took out of the closet a kind of body of a thick and strong fabric, but I had to wear it like a t-shirt.

Since I still had the chain around my neck, I thought that would be my chance to escape. He was wrong, for he chained both feet to the sides of the bed, in rings. I put on the body, which was quite strange: when I had it on, he adjusted it with some cords that were behind. At the height of the neck, it was terribly tight. From behind he placed a small lock. He did the same with the bottom, which hung from the front: he passed it through my crotch and fastened it to my back with a cord and then closed it with two other small locks.

He brought a mirror: it was an old model, but it was impossible to get it out of me because of the little arrangements I had incorporated. Then he went to the closet and took out some petticoats and an antique dress too, dark gray. He made me put on the petticoats, which had a more normal clasp: he buttoned it on the back. The dress had a double lock: inside a strong lightning lock, which closed on my neck, attaching it to a piece of the body with a padlock.  Then, with a cord, he attached two flaps to the sides, so that the clasp was hidden. He cuffed my hands behind my back, chained my feet again, joined them with a short chain with the handcuffs, and told me if I wanted a drink or something to eat. I asked for a glass of water.

When he brought it, he took a sip, and beckoned to me: I opened my mouth and he spit it out inside. That way until the end. Then he said it was bedtime: he put the chain back to my neck, leaving it so short that I could barely separate myself from the mattress.

With a rope he attached the chains of the feet to the bars below and told me that I should be punished. Then he took off the socks he was wearing that were running from the previous fight, doing the same with his panties. He straddled my face, took my panties and peed on them, wetting my face. Then he put it in my mouth, placing a bandage that kept me from spitting it out.

She put my socks around my face, so that I could barely breathe, turned off the light and left, closing the door of my cell. In that environment, tasting her urine and breathing through her stockings, I spent my first night in captivity.

I realized I had a phenomenal erection. I spent part of the night thinking about my future: on the one hand, I liked the girl; on the other hand, I was fulfilling part of my fantasies. I felt so weird. On the one hand, I wanted to escape, and on the other, I fervently wanted to remain enslaved to her. The next day I would begin to see all the really positive and nefarious things in my new life.  IT WILL CONTINUE.


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