Captivated
Ten Tales of Willing and Thrilling Submission

Contents

Title Page

For My Own Good – Justine Elyot

Best in Show – Lolita Lopez

Seventeen Brass Circles – Sommer Marsden

I Am – Charlotte Stein

My Night as a Sex Slave – Valerie Grey

Minding Rex – Elizabeth Coldwell

The Breaking of Sub Paul – Kyoko Church

Runaway – Heather Towne

Confessions of a Coffee Slave – Lisette Ashton

Dominant Skin – Aishling Morgan

More from Mischief

About Mischief

Copyright

About the Publisher

For My Own Good
Justine Elyot

‘This is really what you want?’

I suppose the question had to be asked, but the posing of it made me doubt myself for a moment. Was it? Really?

I looked at the cage in the corner of the room. It was such an elegant thing, the bars highly polished and shining, the interior decorated in a style best described as ‘harem luxe’. I had seen this cage in my dreams.

His hands were on my shoulders and I nuzzled his knuckles with my cheeks.

‘You know it’s for my own good,’ I told him. ‘I’m not safe on the streets.’

A soft laugh came from above.

‘That’s true enough. Well, then. If you’re sure.’

He took my arm and led me over to the open gate.

Before I could crawl in, there were some formalities to be observed. First, the blindfold, then the handcuffs.

I entered the cage on my knees, shuffling forward into a world of velvets and silks that was all dark to me, my fingers twisting behind my back. I reached what felt like a central area and sat down, my knees drawn up to my chin, waiting.

I heard the cage door slam, a key turned, some bolts slid across.

Then I heard footsteps, retreating, the soft click of the door beyond.

I was alone. Have I mentioned that I was naked?

Now was my chance to soak into my role. I had been taken. Not kidnapped, not arrested, not even abducted but taken, spirited out of my life in a bid to save me from some worse fate. The point of this captivity, the thing that excited me the most about it, was that it was being done in the name of love and protection.

After a while, who knows how long, I lay down on my side. The room temperature was warm but my nipples felt engorged anyway, perhaps with anticipation. I tried to become the girl taken from the streets by an unseen captor, the helpless, heedless creature meant for enslavement, if only she knew it.

By the time the door opened again, I was there, in the space I’d craved, ready to inhabit it fully.

‘Who are you? Where is this?’ My voice sounded lost and foolish in the dark. I sat up and hugged my arms around me, facing the direction of the footsteps.

‘I thought you might be hungry. Come over to me.’

I recognised the speaker. It was someone I was supposed to fear.

‘Oh, it’s you! What have you done with me? You’d better let me go or …’

‘Sh. Come over to me.’

‘I don’t want to.’

‘Come over here or I’ll make you. It wouldn’t be difficult. And I have food.’

My stomach was empty, it was true. After a moment’s hesitation, I capitulated and moved in the direction of his voice.

‘Why are you doing this?’ My nipples reached the bars first, brushing the cold steel, which did nothing to reduce their size.

‘You’ll understand, in time.’

‘I want to understand now.’

‘Patience,’ he said.

I heard a spoon scrape against china, then the tip of the metal touched my lower lip. I smelled porridge, milky with perhaps a sprinkling of sugar. I opened my mouth, irritated by my own obedience, but wanting to taste and swallow and banish the nagging emptiness from my stomach.

He pushed the spoon inside my mouth and waited for me to lick off the last remnants of porridge before removing it.

‘That’s it,’ he said softly. ‘It’s good for you. Eat it up.’

He continued to feed me until I felt enough strength to resist him and I stopped opening my mouth.

‘No, finish it,’ he reproved, trying to force the curved metal between my teeth.

I shook my head, turned my face away.

‘Oh, Phoebe, you will make me come in there. You don’t want that.’

Actually, I did want that, and I supposed he knew it, but I was enjoying the pleasurable tension too much to break it just yet.

‘What’s it to you if I leave some porridge?’

‘It’s a great deal to me. For one thing, I need you in good health. For another, you must learn to be obedient or this is going to be very hard for you.’

‘What is? What is this?’

‘You only need to know that you are here for your own safety and protection. More than that, I probably shouldn’t say.’

‘You certainly should. It’s my life! I deserve an explanation.’

‘Eat your porridge and perhaps I’ll give you one.’

I sighed and let him feed me once more.

‘Well?’ I said, once the final morsel was dispatched.

‘I only said perhaps.’

‘Fuck you!’

He heaved a sigh.

‘I’m going to have to come in there, aren’t I?’

I shuffled back rapidly, but he reached through the bars and held my face by the chin, halting me.

‘Wait there,’ he said. ‘Don’t try anything.’

There wasn’t much I could try, cuffed and unseeing, but I tried to follow the direction of his footsteps and drag myself over to where I thought the gate must be, once he started clanking it.

‘I said wait there,’ he warned. ‘Tut tut, somebody is really asking for trouble, isn’t she?’

The gate was open. I tried to hurl myself at it, but found myself hard up against his body, caught in his grip immediately. He held my arm tightly while he locked us both in. I tried to work out what he did with the key, but I couldn’t.

‘Now then, Phoebe,’ he said. He held both of my arms. The material of his clothes brushed against my nipples, reinforcing the power dynamic. He got to wear things. I didn’t. ‘What is this nonsense?’

‘That’s my question!’ I cried. ‘You can’t keep me prisoner.’

‘It’s not my fault,’ he said. ‘You were in danger. I knew you wouldn’t come with me if I asked you to. I had to take you.’

‘What sort of danger?’

‘Never mind what sort of danger.’

‘But I do mind! Of course I mind.’

He silenced me with a kiss, which I tried at first to resist, to all the more appreciate the sweetness of surrender when it came, as it inevitably did. His kisses were nourishment to me, much more than any food or drink. I would take them where I found them.

Once I was quiet and docile, he held me to him and said, ‘You understand that you’re where you need to be?’

‘I don’t understand anything.’

‘But you’ll behave yourself? Or do I need to show you what happens when you don’t?’

My pussy clenched, clit bursting into full bloom.

I had always liked his consequences for bad behaviour.

‘Why don’t you take off these handcuffs?’ I asked. ‘And the blindfold?’

‘I can’t trust you yet. You’ll try something.’

‘What the hell can I try stuck inside a cage?’

‘I don’t know. You’ll think of something. Perhaps we really do need that lesson in what happens if you do.’

‘I won’t do anything,’ I said quickly.

‘No, because you’ll have this to think about if you’re tempted,’ he said.

Before I could argue, I was bent over his thighs, held down by his hand in the small of my back.

‘Oh, don’t,’ I whimpered, but that was nowhere near our safe word, so he took no notice and the first hard smack of many landed on my upturned bottom.

Through the pain I wanted him to say the words, the words that always drove me wild, the words I craved and dreamt of in my fantasies.

But he said other things instead, things about obedience and submission, about duty and discipline.

My bottom got hotter and I thought about trying to wriggle off him, but first he had to say the words.

‘You mustn’t resist me, Phoebe. You know this is for your own good.’

Oh, he had said them and I could stop struggling and lift my bum higher, asking for more.

He was happy to give it, and eventually I was scorched all over and my skin was tight and stinging. He stopped then, and rested his palm on the curve of my cheeks.

‘I take it you understand?’ he said.

‘Yes,’ I whispered, needing to be touched. I shimmied my hips encouragingly.

‘Good. I’ll be back when you’re in a more accommodating frame of mind.’

‘What? You’re going?’

‘Just for a little while. Perhaps you’ll miss me.’

I was damn sure I would.

I tried to keep him close, but all he needed to do was gently push me off him and down on to the cushions.

‘Can’t you take off these cuffs now?’ I pleaded.

‘Not yet. Later.’ He patted my sore bottom. ‘I’m going to give you some time to think about this first.’

I couldn’t even touch it. More to the point, I couldn’t even touch anything else, specifically my clit.

I heard the gate shut and the key turn and then he left.

I lay on my side in a torment of frustrated desire. I clamped my thighs tight together and tried to generate enough friction to set things in motion, but it was useless. The heat of my behind worked wonderfully well at swelling my clit and making my juices run, but it couldn’t take anything further than that.

I lay on my stomach, trying to grind into the deep-pile fabrics, spreading my legs wide and rubbing myself on them. This seemed to work quite well, especially when I found a position and rhythm I could be comfortable with. I swivelled my hips over the cushions, wondering if I would get into trouble for this. Would he find out? Would he discover a telltale patch of damp on one of the sumptuous silks that would doom me to punishment?

And what if he did?

I wouldn’t be unhappy about it.

I scissored my thighs together, clamping a big fat pillow between them, humping it with determination. I was thus engaged when the door opened again.

I had to stop, though I was so close, so tormentingly close. I hid my face in the fabrics and muffled a moan.

‘Goodness me.’ His footsteps approached. ‘Whatever do we have here?’

I held myself perfectly still, unable to answer.

‘It looks as if somebody needs something quite badly. Is that right?’

I made an incoherent sound, biting on a tassel.

‘Answer me, Phoebe.’

‘Yes.’

‘Get up on your knees and answer properly. I’m not underneath that cushion, am I?’

Unwillingly, I made the effort to raise myself, not so easy without the use of my hands. My shame-stained face directed at him, I whispered, ‘Yes,’ again.

‘And what is it that you need? Tell me.’

‘I need to come.’

‘Why do you need to come, Phoebe?’

‘Because … I’m a bit … aroused.’

‘A bit aroused?’

‘Quite a lot aroused.’

‘I can tell. How did that happen, then? What aroused you?’

His footsteps travelled the perimeter of the cage. I followed them with my ears, moving my neck in sympathy.

‘I think … I don’t know.’

I lost my nerve at the last minute. I knew he wouldn’t stand for that.

‘You don’t know? How can you not know what turns you on?’

‘I do know. I don’t want to say.’

‘Well, you don’t have the choice. You have to tell me. Especially if you ever want those cuffs off. So?’

‘It was because of what you did to me.’

‘Oh.’ I could hear the weight of pleasure and triumph in his voice, even though I knew this wouldn’t be specific enough. ‘What I did to you. I see. And what was that?’

‘You …’ I stopped to heave a heavy sigh. He knew this was always the most difficult part of a scene for me. The naming of things. The speaking out loud of my innermost secrets.

‘I can see I’ll have to come in there,’ he said.

‘You hurt me.’

‘You like pain? So, if I twist your arm, that’ll turn you on?’

‘No.’ If my hands had been free, I would have wrung them.

‘What then?’

‘It was the way you did it.’

‘With my hands?’

‘Yes.’ His hands. Always so accurate in the distribution of pain and pleasure, or both together.

‘My hands where?’

My fingers interlocked and I held them there, gripping tight.

‘On my bottom.’

‘Aha. Yes. And what’s that called, then, Phoebe? What’s it called when my hand makes sharp contact with your bottom?’

I could say it now. Each exchange of words had laid the pathway and now I had the nerve to speak.

‘A spanking.’

‘Good girl.’ I could almost see his smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners, his white teeth. ‘And that’s what turned you on, is it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, it’s not much of a punishment then, is it? Perhaps I’ll have to think of something else. But, now we’ve established what it was that made you want to treat the cushions so … inappropriately, we have another issue to address, don’t we?’

‘Do we?’

‘Oh yes. You see, I’m very pleased with you, Phoebe. I’m very pleased that I’ve got you here in this little cage, with me, where you belong. You seem to understand that now. You seem to have come round. Am I right?’

‘I … don’t know.’ I didn’t want to admit defeat yet.

‘Wait. I’m coming in there.’

The keys, the door, the slam, the lock.

Where was he? I tried to locate him by sound, then by smell, but I didn’t know where he was until he untied the blindfold, releasing me into blurred brightness.

The cuffs came off next, but he held on to my wrists, massaging them. They were a little numb and I had pins and needles in my hands.

‘I think you’re going to behave yourself,’ he said, rubbing away. ‘I hope you will justify my trust, because, if you don’t, I’ll be very disappointed. And I don’t take disappointment well.’

‘Why am I here?’ I asked again.

‘Because I want you to be here.’

I twisted my neck round, able to look at him now. He stopped the massage and put his hands on my shoulders, pushing his thumbs into the back of my neck.

‘So,’ he said, soft and low, ‘when you get spanked, you like it. How does it make you feel?’

‘Warm. Powerless. Safe. Tingly.’

‘So it’s partly what I do to you, and partly how you respond to that?’

‘I suppose. I feel like I’m programmed to respond in a certain way.’

‘You don’t get scared?’

‘Not really. Unless I think you’re never going to stop.’

‘Perhaps that’ll happen one day. Perhaps I just won’t stop.’

He knew I liked a thrill of fear with my sex sometimes. I appreciated his attempt to bring it back.

I bathed in the frisson, throwing back my head, nuzzling his neck.

‘The question is,’ he said, ‘what am I going to do with you? You get horny when I spank you and try to hump the décor. We can’t have that, can we?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘No, we can’t. I suppose I’ll have to service you, won’t I? Not that I mind. It was all part of the plan, after all. I’m just surprised you’ve been so quick and easy. Is that what you are, Phoebe? Easy?’

I am for you.

‘No, of course not.’

‘But you want it, don’t you? You want me to show you what you’re here for.’

There was no point denying it. I nodded.

‘Oh, Phoebe, you’re the best prisoner ever,’ he said, and without ceremony he bent me over so my spine was curved and my face fell into the pillows.

He pushed apart my thighs and I felt his breath on my cunt, his face down low, examining me.

‘Still a little bit red,’ he said, stroking my bum. ‘I like that. But you’re very wet, you know. Incredibly wet. Is this what being caged does for you?’

‘I suppose it might be.’

‘No suppose about it.’ He scooped some juices out with a finger. ‘This is one very turned-on little slut, just here.’

He reached between my spread lips, fingering my clit.

‘This is going to work out so well,’ he said, stroking away, while I quivered my hips beneath his touch. ‘You get to stay safe and be looked after and taken care of and given a good seeing-to whenever you need it. I get what I’ve always wanted. A pussy that’s wet for me, all the time. That’s how it’ll be, don’t you think?’

‘Yes, yes.’

‘It’s going to be so good.’

It was already so good. I was vibrating under him, pushing myself into his fingertips. I began to pant, preparing for take-off, but he smacked my thigh and tutted.

‘So impatient. Wait for me.’

He unbuckled his belt, sorted out his trousers. I eased backwards into the welcome nudge of his cock. He moved his hands to my breasts, playing with my nipples while he slid all the way in.

‘Did you know I was hard?’ he murmured in my ear.

‘No.’

‘You do now. Why do you think I was? What made me hard?’

‘Seeing me here. In your cage, naked.’

‘I can’t deny it, it’s quite a sight. It’s not all, though. The thing is, Phoebe, I’m always hard around you. Clothed or naked, caged or free. I only have to lay eyes on you to want to … lay you.’

‘Is that why you took me?’

‘It’s to do with that, yes. I have to have you here, ready and waiting for me. Just the thought of you, all trussed up and behind bars, with a pussy that needs filling … oh, God. I have to keep still a moment.’

He had been circling his hips, grinding round and round inside me. He stopped, gasping slightly, controlling himself, and me.

‘I’ve thought about this for years,’ he said levelly.

Then he began to thrust, deep strokes that made me know I was here to satisfy and serve him.

‘But I never wanted to suggest it,’ he continued, pounding on.

I held on to the silk, crumpling it in my fists.

‘Until, one day, you brought it up yourself. I couldn’t believe my luck.’

The steady screwing was having its effect. I made little whimpering noises. He pinched my nipples then left them alone, moving his hands lower down. One held me at my hip while the other wriggled between my arse cheeks. He brushed it down, moving past the ever-thrusting obstacle of his cock in my cunt and dipping it into my wetness. I wanted him to stay near my clit, but, once his fingers were slippery, he moved them back to my bottom.

I knew then what was coming.

The sharp stab of a fingertip invading my sphincter made me flinch, but only momentarily, because it was welcome. He fucked on steadily while his finger made its examination of my tight rear passage. He understood what this did to me, where it took me.

I became more vocal, rotating my pelvis in a delirium of lust.

As he pushed a second finger up, he put his mouth to my ear. ‘You know this is for your own good, don’t you?’ he said.

I had to take it and I had to give in to an epic climax that burst behind my eyes like stars. When I gave him my orgasm, I gave him all of myself. I was his slave, and not because he had caged me, but because he could make me feel like this, whenever he wanted to.

He gripped my shoulder with his other hand and poured himself into me, hissing victoriously until he was drained.

The cushions would be ruined, but it didn’t seem to matter.

We lay together, banked in velvet and silk, looking up at the barred roof.

‘What if this was real?’ he said.

‘I thought it was.’

‘What if I kept you in here and never let you out?’

‘Would you want to do that?’

‘Would it even be possible?’

‘I think I’d quite like it. As long as you let me out to shower and stuff like that. There’s the TV over there, I could have some music, some books. It’s pretty comfortable.’

‘You’d be waiting here, while I was at work, thinking of me.’

‘I’d always be thinking of you. The cage would do that for me.’

‘Waiting for me to get home. Mmm.’

He shut his eyes, reaching out for me, rolling me against him.

‘I like the idea of it,’ I said. ‘I like the idea of being your on-call pleasure slave.’

‘So do I. Well, let’s see if we can make some time to do something like that then. Let’s synchronise diaries.’

I laughed. ‘Block in some face time.’

‘Slave time.’

‘Yes, that would be good. It would be for my own good.’

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