This is a very blatant rip-off of the book/movie Misery, so my apologies to Stephen King. It’s a bit darker than my other stories, but just as ridiculous with the fantasy.
Victor Tillman was a very successful author. His novels were nothing special, or even good if we’re being honest, but like most things in pop culture, for whatever reason they became huge hits and suddenly he found himself writing a series of books that led to a movie franchise. They were considered romance novels, but that was just a pleasant way of saying sex books. His protagonist was a plain, mousy woman who started working as an assistant for a powerful CEO. She stumbled upon his secret kink life where he would be submissive towards women. Instead of going to HR, she was intrigued and slowly took on the role of his mistress. From there the plot was irrelevant for any of the books, as long as he gave enough detail for each sex scene. At the time it was seen as revolutionary since in other novels the woman was waiting to be swept away by the big strong man. Victor was hailed as empowering women, but honestly he saw a bunch of similar stories in message boards online. He just managed to find the right balance of story and sex, wrote it from the woman’s point of view, and lucked into an instant hit. The funniest part, to him anyway, was he wasn’t even into any of that kinky shit. Sure, during interviews he said he was and he had a few sessions with professional dominatrixes for research. Mostly he kept up appearances to ensure his numbers didn’t dip. Even went to a few public kink events and let a dominatrix spank him on stage, that sort of thing. In reality, since he hit it big he spends his personal time dating beautiful models. Dating probably isn’t the right word, mostly just having sex with beautiful models, often two at a time. This dual life is why his next book will be his last one, at least with these characters. His publisher isn’t too happy to be losing this cash cow, but Victor already has enough money and figures he can create something new anyway.
He used some of that money to buy a secluded cabin in the mountains. Someplace he can go to get away from everyone and where he usually goes to finish his books without any distractions. It’s where he’s heading right now along with the first draft sitting in the passenger seat of his ‘68 Mustang Shelby. It was one of the first things he bought when his books took off and quickly became his most prized possession. The only problem is it handles like shit in the snow, especially when it’s coming down this hard. Victor was stubborn and determined to get to his cabin tonight, but once he hit that patch of ice and began spinning off the road, he knew he wasn’t going to make it. When the car flipped and crashed, he wondered if he was even going to survive. This was his last thought before blacking out.
Everything after the crash is a haze. The sun is in his eyes as he’s being dragged through the snow. He’s laying in a bed in the hospital? There’s a lot of decorations for a hospital room. He’s in a world of pain. Some nurse is giving him pills. He can’t seem to move, is he paralyzed? He dreams of the crash over and over again. Dreams and reality blur together. It’s tough to know which is which.
His next clear thought, well not a delusional haze anyway, he’s waking up in a strange bed. This definitely isn’t a hospital, at least none he’s ever seen. It looks like someone’s guest room in a small house. Sunlight is shining through the window and he sees icicles hanging down and nothing but white snow outside. He tries to rub his eyes and can’t move his arms. Panic sets in as he has a vague memory of being paralyzed, but as he looks down he sees his wrists have been restrained to the bed at his sides with padded cuffs like you might find in a mental institution. He also notices both his legs have casts on them. His throat is dry, but he manages to croak out, “Hello? Is anyone here?”
A minute later a woman walks in. She appears to be in her 40’s, brown, shoulder length hair. She’s attractive, but a bit plain for Victor’s tastes considering the type of women he’s usually with. The clothes she’s wearing aren’t doing her any favors, either. Very brown and baggy. She reminded him of an elementary school teacher from the 80’s. She sees him and smiles, “You’re awake! Do you know what your name is?”
Seemed an odd question, and his throat is so dry. Instead of answering he coughs and asks, “Water?”
She rolls her eyes, “Of course, where are my manners? You must be parched!” She grabs a glass from the bedside table and puts a straw in his mouth. He greedily sucks it down, “Hey, slow down, now. Don’t want you getting sick.”
Once finished, “Thank you. I’m Victor. Victor Tillman.”
She smiled again, “Yes you are! And I’m Angie. You know, Mr. Tillman, I’m your number one fan! I just love your novels! When I read your first one, Secretary Mistress, and saw the main character was named Angela I was over the moon! She became so confident and powerful and did so many things to Peter Steele that I’d never dreamed of. After that I was hooked. I’ve bought all your books and seen all the movies.”
Oh great, she’s a fan, Victor thought sarcastically. He was in no condition to play along like he normally would, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but where am I? What happened to me?”
“Oh right, of course. I’m sorry, just so excited to meet you. Like I said, I’m Angie and you’re in my house. I found your car the other morning and you were inside. I got my sled and dragged you back to my house. Lucky for you I’m a nurse and had plenty of supplies here so I was able to fix you up. Pretty sure you broke bones in both your legs and your shoulder was dislocated. A lot of other scrapes and bruises and maybe a concussion, but looks like you’re going to pull through just fine.”
“I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but why didn’t you take me to a hospital?”
“Oh, the storm was a bad one. Worse one I can remember in a long time. Phone lines are down and the roads are still blocked. You’re super lucky I even found you.”
Something didn’t seem right to Victor, but wondered if he was still disoriented, “What about your cell phone? Or my phone, and laptop! Do you have them?”
“Oh, I never bothered with a cell phone. I did find a bag in the car with you, it has your computer but no phone, sorry. And the internet is down too, I’m afraid.” Victor sighed in relief. His draft is on that laptop and like an idiot he never backed it up. “Well for now you should get some more rest. I’ll bring you some food in a bit, you’re probably starving!”
Before she could leave he asked, “Why am I tied down?”
“Oh that. You were thrashing around and a little delirious, so I did that to keep you from hurting yourself. Plus I figured you'd enjoy it. You always said how you based Peter Steele on yourself.” And just like that she was gone.
He rested his head back on the pillow and sighed, thinking to himself, “Great, I’m trapped with a super fan. At least I’m alive and once the snow clears I can get back to my life. I just hope my laptop still works.”
A few minutes later Angie returned with a tray and set it on a side table. She picked up a bowl and brought a spoon of what he assumed was soup to his lips, “Open wide, we need to get your strength up.”
Victor resisted, “Wouldn’t it be easier if you untied me? My right arm is fine, right?”
“Don’t be silly. Just let me take care of you.” Recognizing he was in no position to argue, and realizing just how hungry he was, he went along. In between spoonfuls they shared information on his situation. He was driving to his cabin on Friday night, and now it’s Tuesday. She said she was a nurse, but is retired, which he found odd considering her age. Also why does she have all this equipment and supplies in her house? But he kept those questions to himself. When he told her he was up here to finish his latest novel her eyes went wide and he knew he wouldn’t be able to talk about anything else now. “Is it here? Oh, is it on your computer? Is that why it’s so important? Can I read it? Oh please?” Before he could answer she left the room and returned with his laptop bag. After pulling out the laptop, she turned it over, inspecting it for damage, then opened it and powered it on. The familiar Windows logo popped up, much to Victor’s relief, though he was getting annoyed at her invasion of his property. Luckily, he had a password which she was now facing.
“Oh, it wants a password. I guess that makes sense. You wouldn’t want just anyone to find your writing. But it’s okay for me to read, right? After all I did save your life and like I said, I’m your number one fan!”
He had to admit she had a point. About saving his life, anyway. Everyone thought they were his number one fan! But he never shared his works in progress with anyone except his publisher. He hoped he had enough energy to put on the charm, “I know, Angie, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. In fact, I’m going to dedicate this book to you!” She was absolutely giddy when he told her that, “But I’m sorry, I never let anyone read my books before they’re done. I’m superstitious about that. Plus it’s only the first draft. It isn’t really done yet.”
Her demeanor shifted so quickly it scared him a little. She had a combination of hurt and anger sweep over her face and Victor became all too aware how trapped and helpless he currently is. Almost as quickly, it went away, replaced by the cheery attitude he saw moments ago, “Oh, I get it. Okay, I can play along.” He was thoroughly confused. When she pulled down the blanket covering him he realized for the first time he wasn’t wearing pants, only his boxer shorts. He assured himself that would be normal so she could fix his legs, but when she also lowered his boxers his confusion, and alarm, grew. She gently grabbed his balls and began play acting, “Mr. Steele, I simply must have the password. If you won’t give it to me, I’m sure I have ways I can convince you.” She began squeezing his balls, gently at first, but the pressure was slowly increasing.
“What the hell are you doing? Stop!”
“You don't fool me, Mr. Steele. The more you beg the more I know you like it. If you really wanted this to stop, you’d give me the password!” Panic swept over him. She was convinced he was into this like his stupid character! Her grip kept tightening and he knew she wasn’t going to let up so he quickly blurted out the password. She released him and he moaned as the intense pain left and was replaced with a dull ache he was not accustomed to. She happily typed in the password and was logged in, but then had a confused look on her face, “Oh, I’ve never been good with computers. How do I open your book?” Victor hesitated to answer, which she mistakenly took as a cue to keep playing, “Oh, I’m sorry.” She lightly slapped his balls, “Mr. Steele, tell me how to open the document!” She slapped again, a little harder this time causing Victor to cry out in pain, “Don’t make me ask again!” He quickly walked her through how to locate and open the file. For some reason she looked a little disappointed, “Wow. I didn’t expect you to give in so easily. And you don’t even have an erection. Did I do it wrong? I’m sorry, I’m trying really hard but I’ve never done that stuff in your books before.”
Victor was lost on how to respond. He was worried how she’d react if he burst her bubble, but at the same time he can’t play along with the games in his books, especially in his current condition. That’s when it hit him, “Oh no, Angie, it isn’t you. I’m still in some pain from my accident. You know, not the fun kind of pain, and I’m so tired.”
Her mood lightened again, “Of course! How silly of me. I’m sorry. Tell you what, why don’t I leave you alone to get some rest. I have some reading to do!” After covering him back up she was gone. Victor was a little worried about how she’d respond to the story, knowing it was the end of the series, but he would deal with that problem later. For now he really was tired and quickly drifted back to sleep.
Some time later he was awakened, “Time for dinner, Mr. Tillman.”
Groggily, he said, “Angie you can call me Victor. And thank you.” Like earlier, she refused to release his arms and fed him.
“Well, Victor, I’m only a few chapters in but this might be your best story yet! It got so steamy so quickly. Oh my.” She kept going on about it, recanting scenes as she continued to feed him. For the first time Victor realized how terrible these books really are and how glad he was ending it. When his food was gone she left him again to rest, which he promptly did.
For the next few days this was their routine. Every time he asked about getting outside help, she assured him they couldn’t get in or out. This didn’t seem right to him. As bad as the snow was, this area was used to it and handled it pretty well from what he could remember. His suspicions grew when he heard her leave the house for an hour or two each day, but she assured him she was just checking the conditions to see if it was clear yet. By the end of the week he felt better. Nowhere near 100%, but well enough to sit up now, which is how she re-positioned him but still restrained “to be safe.” He was hoping to be able to move around the house a bit, but before he had the chance to try and convince her of this, she burst into the room in tears, “How could you? Oh, Victor, why did you do it?” Sounds like she finished the book. Victor wanted to make sure he would never be able to continue the story, so he had Angela accidentally kill Peter during one of their sessions by going too far with breath play. It ended with Angela becoming cold and distant, assuming full control of Peter’s company, living the rest of her life alone as the most successful CEO in the country. He knew many of his fans would be upset, but he never imagined he’d be at one’s mercy when they found out! Before he could offer any kind of explanation, “You have to change this! You said it was a first draft. That means there’s still time to save Peter!” The look on her face scared the shit out of him. It wasn’t threatening...yet. It was worse, she looked crazed.
Without giving him a chance to reply she left the room, and a few minutes later he heard her leave the house. As he laid there alone his stomach rumbled reminding him she left before feeding him breakfast. With no clocks in the room he had no idea how long she left him there. It felt like several hours later when he heard the door open and she returned. Maybe fifteen minutes after that she came into the room with a food tray, “I’m sorry, Victor. I get so emotional sometimes and I might have overreacted a bit. I took a nice long walk to cool down and made you a sandwich for lunch!” Still restrained, she held the sandwich up to his mouth and he greedily took a bite. Once it was gone, she began talking to him, “I know it’s just a book, but how can you do that?”
He had rehearsed many responses to this question but always assumed it would be during a book signing, not while tied down to a stranger’s bed. However he wasn’t sure if any would suffice for her. He made a bold decision, “Angie, can I be honest with you?”
She smiled, “Of course, Victor.”
“Okay. I would never tell anyone else this, but because you’re my biggest fan, I think you deserve the truth. As much as I love Angela and Peter and telling their story, it was time for me to move on. Honestly, I ran out of ideas and it isn’t fair to my fans, to you especially, to start writing bad stories just to make more money. Does that make sense?” He couldn’t remember the last time he laid it on so thick and lied so much, he only hoped she bought it.
She contemplated it for a moment, “That makes sense, I suppose. And don’t worry, your secret is safe with me! But why did you have to kill poor Peter? Couldn’t you just make them grow old together? Live happily ever after? That would be a much better ending!” Before he could come up with an answer her face became dark again, “No, no. That doesn’t make sense. You’re so talented. You couldn’t possibly be out of ideas for them. No, that isn’t right. I need to fix this.” She kept muttering to herself as she left the room again.
Sometime later she returned wearing a robe and it looked like she did her makeup and hair. She actually looked damn good! “I have an idea to help encourage you to write a better ending.” She then opened her robe and dropped it to the floor revealing a sight he never would have expected. She was wearing only lingerie, something simple you’d find from Victoria’s Secret, but the most surprising part was the body she was hiding. If he didn’t know any better he’d swear she was a model for Victoria's Secret! He was speechless as she slowly walked over and lowered the blanket from his body, then his boxers. His cock was already beginning to stir both from the sight of her and the fact he hadn’t had an orgasm in a week. These days he rarely goes twelve hours without at least masturbating but usually cumming from one of his model friends. She gently caressed his member, bringing him to full hardness, “Remember your third book Hard as Steele?” Did he? What a terrible name. They all blended together at this point. “Well I got this idea from there.” She sat in a chair next to the bed and began slowly stroking him. It felt incredible! After a week of on and off pain, this was just what he needed. He rested his head and closed his eyes, enjoying the sensations. It wasn’t the best hand job he’d ever had, or even a good one if he’s being honest, but right now he didn’t care. She was slowly but surely about to make him explode. He couldn’t wait to feel that release and relaxation that follows an orgasm.
Here it is, any second now. He begins moaning in earnest until she stops. He wasn’t on the edge but pretty close. Victor waits for a moment assuming she’ll begin again but when nothing happens he opens his eyes to see what’s going on. She’s just sitting there staring at him and smiling. “Angie. What’s going on? Why did you stop?”
She started play acting again, “Oh, did you want me to continue? Is that what you want? What about what I want?” He was confused until she began stroking him again and then he no longer cared. She stroked him the same as before, only this time it didn’t take him as long to start getting close. And this time she stopped while he was right at the edge.
He pulled at his restraints to no avail, “What the hell, Angie? What are you doing?”
Wordlessly she sat and smiled, waiting for him to calm down. Once he did she stroked him to the edge again and stopped. It finally dawned on Victor what she was doing. Hard as Steele was the book where Angela kept teasing Peter until he gave her greater control in the company, or something like that. At the time he thought that title was so clever. She made Peter go weeks without an orgasm while she constantly aroused him until he finally gave in and gave her what she wanted just so he could cum. As his mind recounted this and he tried to think of a way out, Angie kept stroking him to the edge over and over again, making rational thoughts for him all but impossible. He tried playing dumb, “What do you want? Ah fuck, please Angie, just let me cum and I can give you what you want!”
“You know what I want Victor. You have to fix it.”
The breaks between edges were getting shorter, which just meant he was on the next edge that much sooner. He was out of his mind and just wanted this to end. Is this what his characters went through? What kind of pervert would like this? He quickly gave in, “Fine, okay, you win. I’ll rewrite the ending. I promise. Just please let me cum!”
She smiled and clapped her hands, “Yay! It worked just like in your book! Although I’m really surprised how easy that was. I thought for sure we’d be doing this for days or weeks. Oh well, I’ll grab your laptop so you can get started!”
She left before he knew what was happening, leaving him alone with his raging erection fruitlessly bobbing on his stomach. As she re-entered the room, rather pathetically Victor asked, “Angie, aren’t you forgetting something?” He gestured down to his angry cock with his head.
“No, silly. No orgasm until you’re done. Angela didn’t give poor Peter any relief until all the papers were signed. She knew he’d go back on his word the second he had an orgasm. She’s too smart for that.” She brought a pair of handcuffs with a long chain over to him attaching one end to the headboard. She then positioned herself between his legs and got a firm grip on his balls, “Now, when I free your hand you need to put it in the cuff and lock it. No cheating by trying to touch yourself or I’ll squeeze you super hard like this.” To demonstrate she quickly and firmly crushed his balls in her hand, causing him to yell out in pain. “Got it?” He nodded vigorously. With her free hand she undid the buckle around his right wrist and he promptly brought it up and locked it in the cuff. There was just enough chain where he could reach his stomach but no further. At best he could probably tickle his cock head, but he didn’t test it while she had that grip on him. Once he was secure again she brought over a tray that you’d use to serve breakfast in bed, but instead held his laptop. “There. Now you can fix your book and then we can see about giving you what you want.”
He sighed then figured he could bang out some silly ending to make her happy and once he got out of here submit his original. He made a few copies of his draft to separate folders to be safe and went to work. Angie meanwhile was still sitting at the foot of the bed, between his legs. The laptop blocked her from his view. As he began typing he gasped as he felt her tongue lick his entire length from base to tip. Then she did it again and again. “Angie, aahhh, it’s really hard to concentrate when you’re doing that.”
In between licks she explained, “It’s for motivation and inspiration. I’m doing this to help you!” He was already having a hard enough time typing one handed, while wearing a cuff and chain on that hand, but now this ensured it would take him an extremely long time to get enough writing done to please her. For the first time he seriously wondered if she was ever going to let him go. After randomly typing some letters he launched his web browser but nothing loaded confirming there was no internet. Some more typing, he checked for any local wifi signals and found a few. They were weak, but available. Unfortunately they were all secured, except for one! He typed a bit more and tried to connect, then waited anxiously as the icon spun for what seemed like hours until finally, success! He only had one bar, but it appeared to be enough as the homepage loaded automatically in the web browser. It was the default page that had random news stories and other nonsense. He never bothered changing it which he now regrets as one of the stories had a video that began auto-playing and his sound was on! He quickly closed it but it was too late as Angie’s head popped up over the screen, “What was that?” Before he could reply she snatched the laptop and began inspecting. She looked at him with anger in her eyes, “Oh, you were trying to cheat, weren’t you? You made me a promise and now you want to break it? You’re a bad boy. Bad boys get punished, don’t they Mr. Steele?” She left the room with the laptop and returned carrying a ball gag and small leather paddle.
Victor might have been turned on at the sight of her if she wasn’t so terrifying. He was genuinely afraid, “Angie, please. You don’t have to do this. I’m sorry, but you’re scaring me. I just want to get to a hospital, you understand that, right?”
Her words seemed playful, like the characters from his book, but her eyes showed only rage, “No, Mr. Steele. You’re trying to escape your promise.” She uncuffed his hand and forced his arm back down to his side. He was still weak from his accident and couldn’t resist her as she buckled it back into place. Then moving close to his face and she brought the gag to his lips. In a whisper she said, “And you’ll never escape me.” She forced the gag in his mouth and buckled it securely behind his head. Positioning herself between his legs again she held his balls in her left hand and raised the paddle in the air, “I’m not mad at you, Mr. Steele, just very disappointed. I still love you, but you have to be punished.” Any doubts Victor had about her mental stability flew out the window when she said that and brought the paddle down on his defenseless balls. The pain was intense and immediate as he screamed into the gag. A couple seconds later she did it again and again. Steady and methodically she rained down smacks on his balls, each blow hurting worse than the last. Tears streamed down his face as he screamed and begged into the gag, but he was completely helpless to stop the onslaught. He had no idea how long this went on for, he only knows how grateful he was when he finally passed out.
He regained consciousness suddenly, his head jerking back quickly into a pillow. Angie had something under his nose, smelling salts he assumed. The gag was gone and the laptop and tray was back in place, as well as his wrist in the cuff. “Now I hope you learned your lesson. I think I broke your wireless thingy, but best for you to not worry about it and concentrate on your writing, okay?”
As she moved back to between his legs, Victor asked, “Angie? Are you...are you ever planning on letting me go?”
She looked at him with genuine confusion, “Of course, silly. I’m just taking care of you until you’re better. Kidnapping is illegal, you know? Oh, plus you have to finish your promise and fix your story!” Before he could respond she was back between his legs and licking his cock. It took a few minutes, but eventually it betrayed him and became fully erect again. He did his best to focus and write some shitty ending to make her happy and end this torment.
The next few days were spent this way, though she never dressed like that again. She’d set him up to write for a couple hours max, teasing him the entire time. Always insisting he take breaks to not wear himself out, but all it did was drag out an already slow process. It usually took him an hour to really get in a groove and start banging a story out at which point he would write until he was exhausted. The constant breaks kept messing up his flow, making an already tough assignment even harder. Speaking of which, he also wasn’t sure how much longer he could handle the teasing! Victor had never gone this long without an orgasm, and never endured teasing like this in his life. When he wrote Hard as Steele he had a session with a domme and the half hour of teasing she gave him was more than enough for his liking! To make matters worse, each night as he tried to fall asleep he swore he heard Angie masturbating to orgasm. Only two things allowed him to continue. The memory of the punishment and the promise of an orgasm. After four days of this he was finally finished. Victor proudly turned the laptop for her to read and she giddily picked it up and left the room.
As he laid there waiting he suddenly realized in her haste to read she left his hand cuffed above his head. Slowly he moved his hand down to see how close to his cock he could reach. As he feared, his fingertips could just barely rub his cockhead, but it still felt pretty damn good. As he continued rubbing he started to believe this might be enough to to make himself cum. He had no idea how he would hide the mess, but in the moment he didn’t care, he was just so desperate for an orgasm he couldn't stop. The head was beginning to get a little raw and sore, but he ignored the discomfort, he was so close. As he became lost in the pleasure he couldn’t help but let out some moans and other noises. Just as he was about to cum the door swung open causing him to lose his slight grip in surprise as he was denied yet again. “You dirty cheater!” She marched over and gave him a swift punch in the balls, causing him to howl in pain. While he recovered she uncuffed his hand and secured it by his side. “I’ll deal with you later!” She left the room as quickly as she entered.
While he waited for the pain in his balls to fade he heard a buzzing sound coming from outside the door, followed by the unmistakable moans of a woman masturbating. He wasn’t sure if hitting him turned her on or if she was just rubbing his frustration in his face. Then he realized he’s trying to rationalize the motivations of a crazy person and simply leaned his head back and began to cry until he fell asleep.
The next morning he’s awoken by singing. Angie is practically floating into the room, “I stayed up late and finished reading your book. The ending was exactly how I pictured it!”
Victor was cautiously optimistic, “So you liked it? It, uh, made you happy?”
“Oh yes, very much! If Angela and Peter’s story has to end that’s the perfect ending!” He relaxed, praying this means his ordeal will soon be over. Her next words crushed his spirits, “However, I got to thinking. Why does their story have to end now? Why can’t you just re-do the ending again so there can be another book? I know I made you promises but you also tried cheating last night and need to be punished. I could hurt you again…”
He couldn’t help but interrupt, “Oh god, no Angie, please don’t do that! My balls are still sore from last time. I’m sorry, you just have me so horny! I’ve never gone this long without cumming!”
She looked surprised, “Really? The way you write your stories I was afraid I was going easy on you. Anyway, for your punishment you need to rewrite the ending again so their story can continue, and no orgasm until you do.” Victor was going to argue, or more likely beg, but before he could open his mouth the storm cloud came over her face. He learned enough so far to not provoke her when that happened.
He meekly replied, “Yes, ma’am,” and her face was absolutely beaming again.
“Oh, I liked that. From now on, would you call me Mistress, please? Just like in your books, she’s Mistress Angela. Okay?”
“Uh, sure, Mistress Angie.” She giddily danced out of the room and returned with breakfast. Once he was fed she set him up with the laptop and cuff so he could get back to work. Victor figured this should be an easy fix. He already changed the bulk of it for a happily ever after ending. Now he just needed to leave it more open ended and be done. Could probably finish today, tomorrow at the latest. However when Angie set up between his legs again for “motivation” he realized it might take a little longer. Instead of just gently stimulating him and keeping him erect, she was more forceful. She would either stroke or suck him to the edge, let him calm down for a minute or two, then do it again. He thought it was tough writing before, now it was damn near impossible! He could barely think straight not to mention trying to type with one hand while being edged constantly. What should have been a one day job turned into three. Three days of almost constant edging. He learned early on day one not to beg or complain if he didn’t want his balls squeezed or smacked again, so he restrained himself to only let out moans and gasps. By the end he wasn’t even sure if what he was writing made sense, and he relied completely on the computer to catch any spelling and grammar mistakes. He honestly didn’t care if this was the biggest piece of crap he ever put to page, as long as his audience of one liked it, that’s all that mattered.
Remembering to secure his wrist first, she took the laptop and went off to read. Victor simply enjoyed the break and rested, soon dozing off even though it was early evening. He must have slept through the night as he awoke to the sun coming in through the window and his stomach grumbling since he missed dinner. He wasn’t sure the time, but it felt early and he had to wait a while before Angie finally appeared. She brought breakfast and looked in good spirits, though tired, “Good morning! I read your new ending last night and loved it so much I re-read the entire book! I didn’t get much sleep, so I’m a little tired, but thought you’d be hungry.”
Victor was beyond relieved. In between bites he asked, “So you liked it? The book is done now?”
“Oh no,” he was suddenly crushed, wondering what hoops she is going to make him jump through next, “I absolutely loved it! It’s perfect!” Ugh, that crazy bitch! His nerves are absolutely frayed but he does his best to hide it and remain calm and cheerful, always fearful of a mood change. As he finishes breakfast he resists the urge to ask about an orgasm, even though his very essence is begging him to do so. “In fact it’s so good, I think you definitely earned the reward I promised.” Victor’s smile was genuine now, “But it’s going to have to be later tonight. I want to make sure I have enough energy to reward you properly and I really need a nap, okay?”
He was worried there would be another trick or her mood would change later, but what voice did he have? He did his best to lay it on thick, “Yes, Mistress, I understand. Thank you, Mistress.” That response thrilled her as she practically floated out of the room leaving Victor alone and bored, but finally with something to look forward to.
Several hours later she came back with more food. Maybe it was a late lunch or early dinner? The sun was beginning to set so he wasn’t sure. She looked more awake and still in a good mood, thankfully. After he finished eating, she asked, “So are you ready for your reward? You’ve been such a good boy the last few days.”
Not wanting to ruin this when he’s so close, “Oh yes please, Mistress. I’ve been trying really hard to be good for you.”
She smiled again, “I know and I’m going to show you how much I appreciate it. I’ll be right back.” For the first time in weeks Victor allowed himself to feel hope and happiness. Once Angie returned all made up and wearing the same outfit as that first night those feelings transformed into nothing but lust as his cock began to grow. Between her baggy clothes and all the crazy inside, he forgot just how sexy her body is. She slowly approached the bed and pulled the blanket down exposing his stiffening erection. He hadn’t worn pants or underwear since he began writing. She freed his wrist and attached it to the cuff, and to his surprise did the same with his left with a new cuff she brought in. The other thing he hadn’t noticed was the small spray bottle she was now using on his cock. Once she was satisfied it was well covered she rolled a condom onto him. Standing back up she slowly slid her panties down and off and began rubbing them on his face, mostly on his mouth and under his nose, forcing him to inhale her scent. All the while telling him, “You’ve been such a good boy. Your Mistress is so pleased.” She climbed onto the bed and began rubbing the head of his cock against her opening. It felt amazing at first, but soon he began feeling less and less. When she slid him inside of her he barely felt anything. It then dawned on him she used some kind of numbing spray on his cock! She moaned as she began riding him, “Oh this feels wonderful! Such a good boy! Touch me, slave, touch your Mistress!”
For a split second Victor worried, Did she just call me slave? But once he realized his hands could reach her he began massaging her breasts through the lacy lingerie she was wearing. He wasn’t sure how long that damn numbing spray would last. As it was now this was just another giant tease for him, but not Angie as she was moaning hard and moving faster, on the verge of her own orgasm. Just as she began screaming out in climax, Victor noticed the sensations begin to intensify for himself and he knew his orgasm was only moments away, until Angie stopped completely, relaxing after her orgasm. “Ooooh, such a good slave! You don’t mind being called slave, do you?”
At this point he didn’t care what she called him, as long as she continues, “Yes Mistress. I don’t mind.”
She stared into his eyes and began very slowly riding him again, “Then tell me. Tell me what you are!”
She felt so amazing he was lost in the moment, “Oh fuck, I’m a slave, Mistress! Oh god, yes, I’m your slave, Mistress!
Faster and faster she rode him, “Yes, good boy. Good slave! You’re my good slave!”
He was coming to the edge again, “Oh yes Mistress, yes yes! Please let me cum, Mistress. Please let your slave cum!”
Seconds away she said, “Yes, cum for me, slave!” His orgasm hit him and he came so hard he almost passed out. He probably would have if when he started she hadn’t said, “Cum and be my slave forever!” That comment terrified him, but his orgasm mostly overpowered the fear. As awful as being her prisoner had been, he had to admit that was the best sex of his life, in some sick and twisted way. She got off the bed and reattached his wrists to his sides. Then removing the condom she brought it up to his face, much to his horror. “Look at the big mess you made, slave. You know what we do with this, right?” Oh god, no. In his stupid books Peter was always forced to consume all of his cum. She can’t be serious, can she? “Come on, salve, don’t ruin a perfect day by being bad now and make me have to punish you!” Slowly, grudgingly, he opened his mouth and allowed her to pour the contents of the condom into his mouth. He almost gagged at the taste as he forced it down. Satisfied she gave him a kiss on the lips, cleaning up anything he missed, and left the room, leaving him to wonder what she’s going to do with him now.
That was five years ago. Victor only knows because his laptop keeps track of the date for him as he writes more books each day. How many books he’s lost track of. He only knows his orgasms depend on finishing another book, Each day is spent writing while being teased by Angie. He does his best to play along and avoid punishments, though some days it doesn’t matter and the punishments come anyway. She says it’s to remind and encourage him to be a “good slave” but he knows she just enjoys it. She also says she loves her slave, and he’s learned to say he loves his Mistress. It wasn’t true at first, but after saying it enough times he’s not so sure anymore. His good behavior also granted him more freedom. Instead of restrained to a bed he’s confined to the house and shares her bed, though he moves with a slight limp now after his legs healed. He only left once in the five years he’s been there, and that was just to demonstrate what happens to the shock collar locked around his balls when he does. He also wears a chastity device when unsupervised. Both of the keys are hidden somewhere outside the house so he never even tried to escape. He thought at some point she would grow tired of this game or the quality of the books would be so bad she’d lose interest, but it appears neither will ever happen. She’s living the life of Angela and she has her Peter, and she’s never going to let him go.
