Shop Mobile More Submit  Join Login
About Deviant Artist Core Member WillMale/United States Group :iconbondageheroines: BondageHeroines
 
Recent Activity
Deviant for 8 Years
2 Month Core Membership
Statistics 227 Deviations 3,540 Comments 287,868 Pageviews

Newest Deviations

Mature content
The Mayor's Daughter III: Miller's End - Chapter 3 :iconexperimenter73:experimenter73 13 7
Mature content
The Mayor's Daughter III: Miller's End - Chapter 2 :iconexperimenter73:experimenter73 13 6
Mature content
The Mayor's Daughter III: Miller's End - Chapter 1 :iconexperimenter73:experimenter73 18 14
Sentinels in Training - Jade Introduction by experimenter73
Mature content
Sentinels in Training - Jade Introduction :iconexperimenter73:experimenter73 3 0
Mature content
Paper or Plastic - Scene 7 :iconexperimenter73:experimenter73 18 21
Mature content
Sentinels In Training: Chapter Five :iconexperimenter73:experimenter73 17 6
Mature content
Ashley's Choice :iconexperimenter73:experimenter73 39 19
Mature content
Sentinels in Training Chap Four: Sleepover :iconexperimenter73:experimenter73 17 4
Mature content
Sentinels in Training Chap 3: The First Ordeal :iconexperimenter73:experimenter73 17 7
Mature content
Sentinels in Training Chap 2: Packaging :iconexperimenter73:experimenter73 15 9
Literature
Sentinels in Training

Maise Yazzie smiled as she entered the lounge. To her, the room felt downright opulent, with plush leather couches and a massive curved flatscreen television. On the screen, an epic battle played out, the hidden speakers in the room making it seem as though she were in the middle of the action. She shook her head, laughing aloud.
"I don't think laughter is what the director was going for, Shawnee," another voice spoke, breaking Maise's reverie.
"Oh, sorry!" Maise responded.  She hadn't realized there was anyone in the room, the sight of Jade curled up on the couch obscured by its high back. Of course, Jade wasn't the other girl's real name, just as Shawnee wasn't Maise's. Though they were all beginning to get to know each other here in the training facility, their true names and identities were carefully guarded secrets. Not that it really mattered to Maise. She didn't have anything to hide or anyone to protect. "I didn't mean to intrude. I'll let you
:iconexperimenter73:experimenter73
:iconexperimenter73:experimenter73 13 14
Mature content
The Mayor's Daughter II: Stablemate - Chapter 16 :iconexperimenter73:experimenter73 13 22
Mature content
The Mayor's Daughter II: Stablemate - Chapter 15 :iconexperimenter73:experimenter73 9 7
Mature content
Over Her Head - Epilogue :iconexperimenter73:experimenter73 11 15
Mature content
The Mayor's Daughter II: Stablemate - Chapter 14 :iconexperimenter73:experimenter73 14 4
Mature content
Over Her Head - Chapter Seventeen :iconexperimenter73:experimenter73 12 27

Random Favourites

kidnapping a gothic girl by MisterEye
Mature content
kidnapping a gothic girl :iconmistereye:MisterEye 279 17
Face it Jill, you're screwed by MisterEye
Mature content
Face it Jill, you're screwed :iconmistereye:MisterEye 1,002 48
Ye old spank machine by MisterEye
Mature content
Ye old spank machine :iconmistereye:MisterEye 823 34

Visitors

Activity


Mature Content

This content is intended for mature audiences.


or, enter your birth date.*


Month

Day

Year*
Please enter a valid date format (mm-dd-yyyy)
Please confirm you have reviewed DeviantArt's Terms of Service below.
* We do not retain your date-of-birth information.
Chapter Three
Cleaning Lady

Allison could barely focus on the sounds of the struggle and torment going on in the room behind her.  Her whole world was consumed by the effort of keeping herself up to stop the pressure on her aching throat.  Each time her legs faltered, each time her knees buckled, the wood of the stocks would bite painfully into her neck, cutting off her air supply.  She yanked again with her hands, but the mittens that confined them could not pass through the openings, leaving them trapped there.

As she struggled to remain standing, she replayed the scene from earlier in her mind.  She hadn’t been able to see the policewoman, but she had heard the struggle.  She cursed herself for the part she’d played in the woman’s failure, her involuntary reaction to the sound of the man’s counting.  The thought of it was horrifying.  She hadn’t been here long, she knew, but he was already programming her responses.  What would she be like in a year?

She pushed that thought away.  That couldn’t happen.  She would find a way out of the mill.  If one police officer had found them, surely there would be others.  And the others would be more careful.  They wouldn’t fall into his trap.

“Is that enough of the stocks for now?” He asked, and she tensed as she felt his hand on her hip.  She hadn’t heard him return, consumed as she was by her own ordeal.

“Yeshhh,” Allison groaned around the bit she held clenched between her teeth.

She heard the rasp of a key in the lock and then groaned with relief as the stocks swung open above her.  She leaned back, almost falling against her captor as her legs protested the effort of supporting her.  She whimpered softly as she felt him quickly pull her hands behind her back, but she didn’t resist.  He held her hands at the small of her back.  Then she heard the click of a lock and felt a tug on the leather harness that criss-crossed her body.  At least he hadn’t pulled them up between her shoulder blades, she thought.

“You’re both going to have to be punished for your actions,” he spoke as he turned her to face Sierra where the other girl knelt by the post.  “And since the cot is occupied, I have a pair of viewer requests that will work quite nicely.  I’m going to go get Nevada ready, and I’ll be back for you, Sierra.”

Squatting for a moment, he released the cuff from Allison’s left ankle and withdrew it from the ring it passed through.  She watched as he closed it back in place on her ankle and did not try to pull away.  Punishment was already coming.  There was no reason to make it worse.

Rising again, he clipped a leash to a ring on the front of Allison’s harness, between her breasts.  She shuffled after him as he turned to leave the room, pulling her by the leash.  Entering the mill beyond the stable room, they passed out into the main area.  She was grateful when he turned her away from the direction of the cot.  The policewoman must still be trapped there, she realized.  How long had it been since he had dragged her out of the room?

As he opened the door, Allison was surprised to see what appeared to be a living room on the other side.  It was sparsely furnished, with a couch resting before a bank of monitors.  The monitors were dark, revealing nothing of what might be watched on them.  This must be where he watched the recordings of their struggles, she realized, before he broadcast them out to the world beyond.  A laptop sat on the coffee table in front of the couch.  Crossing the room, he led her through a door and into a gleaming, white tiled bathroom. The smooth tiles were cool beneath her bare feet as he led her inside.

“Do you have to use the potty, Nevada?” he asked, meeting her eyes as he drew her in close, his hand straying down to rest on her ass through the sheer panties.

“Uh huh,” she groaned around the bit, pressing her thighs together.

“Then go,” he said, his hands abruptly pulling down her panties, letting them fall around her ankles.

Whimpering, the chain between her ankles rattling, Allison shuffled over to the toilet and sat down on it. She blushed, her cheeks scarlet, as the torrent of pee rushed from her, splashing into the bowl beneath her.  She hadn’t even paused to consider whether he might leave to give her some privacy. She looked over at the roll of toilet paper and then up at him as she finished, still blushing, unable to clean herself up with her trapped in the tight leather mittens behind her back.

“We’ll get you cleaned up in a minute,” he said as he turned on the water in the large claw foot tub. “Let’s get all that leather off you first.”

She stood as he approached her and he turned her, his hands moving to the straps on her harness. When she turned, she caught sight of herself in the mirror and gasped in surprise. She hardly recognized herself as she stared at the reflection looking back at her. Her hair was a matted mess, sticking out in tufts where it had broken free of the thin leather straps that covered her face.  The bit between her lips kept her mouth open in a grimace. Her eyes looked tired and red, dark rings beneath them.

The black leather straps of the harness pressed into her body.  She watched as they gradually loosened under his attention, leaving behind red lines in her flesh as he removed and drew them away from her.  Her hands came free behind her as he released them from the harness, and she drew them in front of her, looking down at the mittens that confined them.

Allison moaned in relief as he unbuckled the rest, the last of the straps falling away to leave her in only the panties and the mittens now.  Squatting next to her, he unlocked and removed harsh metal cuffs from her ankles, taking her panties with them and dropping them in a pile with the harness.

“Now, I’m going to give you a little freedom and a little time to ready yourself for the rest of the day while I go take care of the new business that Officer Morgan dropped in my lap,” he said as he rose and began to release the straps of the harness that covered her head. “When I return, I expect you to be prepared as I will instruct you.”

“I expect to return to this room and find you dressed,” he gestured to a small pile of neatly folded material on the back of the toilet tank.. “You will be kneeling in the center of the room with those cuffs in place on you.  Am I clear?”

“Y-yes,” Allison groaned as he pulled the cruel bit from her mouth, her heart leaping at the thought of being left alone and unbound.

“They are the same ones that I put on you when I arrested you, but with one change,” he said as he touched a wide leather belt that rested with the chains.  “This goes around your waist instead of the chain.  Everything locks in place.  Get it?”

Allison nodded, feeling her belly knot up with tension.  She could not find her voice to answer him.

Leaving her there in the mittens, he reached down next to the toilet and she heard the rattle of chain as he lifted something up. Turning back to face her, she saw that the long chain had what looked like a rubber strap attached to the end of it. She considered flight for a moment, but knew that even as nearly free as she was, there would be no escape while the mittens remained on her hands.  How could she even open a door?

Allison bit her lower lip, fighting back the pleas that were forming on the tip of her tongue as he wrapped the rubber strap around her throat and then locked it in place. She blushed, humiliated as her captor collared her like some animal. With the collar locked in place, he removed the leather mittens, freeing her save for the collar.  She stretched her fingers, feeling the ache in them from their long confinement.

“Let me remind you, Nevada,” he held her chin in his hand, staring into her eyes while she rubbed her fingers.  “You are being given an opportunity to be a good girl right now, and to enjoy some freedom that you will not get very often. If you act up, however, you will find today far worse than yesterday.”

Without another word, he turned and picked up the harness, cuffs and panties from the floor and then left her alone in the bathroom. She heard the lock on the door click behind him. On wobbly legs, she walked to the tub and turned off the water. Steam rose from the surface of it as she stood there for a moment, leaning against the edge of it. Sitting down on the closed lid of the toilet seat, she explored the rubber collar on her neck, finding it as secure and immovable as everything else he had inflicted on her body.  She followed the chain behind her seat to where its end was locked to a heavy metal plate bolted to the floor. A few moments of frenzied pulling at the chain with both hands convince her that there will be no easy escape from it.

Trying to forget the collar and leash, Allison rose and returned to the tub. Stepping into it, she moaned softly as the hot water enveloped her sore and tired flesh. Slowly, she lowered herself into the soothing embrace of the bath. Lying back, she let the water swallow her up to her neck, closing her eyes as she banished thoughts of where she was from her mind. Enjoying the sensation of the water, she ran her hands over her body, massaging some life back into her sore muscles.

While the water slowly worked its magic, making her begin to feel human again, the handcuffs resting on the back of the commode and the collar on her neck were a stark reminder of where she was, and what she could expect for the rest of the day. Trying to push those thoughts from her mind, to make the most of this time, she cleaned herself.  Scrubbing herself vigorously with a lathered sponge, she enjoyed the sensation of it as she scoured around the raised welts on her flesh that the leather had inflicted on her.  Taking the bottle of shampoo in her hands, she washed her hair, scratching at her scalp with her fingernails.  

Allison leaned back.  She wasn’t sure how long she would have, but if he was going to be leaving to ‘take care of business,’ she guessed that she could take her time and enjoy the simple pleasure of the bath.  Lying back in the steaming water, she tried to forget where she was and how she had come to be here.  But her thoughts kept returning to the promise of punishment that he had delivered to her and Sierra.  Closing her eyes, her neck resting against the cool porcelain edge of the tub, she struggled to focus on the hope that the officer brought.  Others would come.  They had to.  The woman must have left some sort of clue behind for others.

Allison woke with a start, sputtering on the water that she breathed in when her head had slipped beneath the surface of the water.  She hadn’t even realized she’d fallen asleep, but it did not surprise her that she had, exhausted as she was by the ordeal in the mill.  The chain from her neck rattled against the porcelain lip of the tub as she thrust herself back up into a sitting position.  She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep but she could feel that the tub’s water had grown cool.  Taking a deep breath, she reached under her to pull the plug and let the water drain.  Standing in the emptying tub, she dried her body with a soft towel, luxuriating in the feel of it against her skin.

Wrapping the towel around her wet hair, she stepped from the tub and approached the waiting clothing. Feeling like she was handling live snakes, she quickly picked up the sets of cuffs with their belt and moved them, rattling, to the counter of the sink. She paused for a moment to look at her reflection in the mirror before picking up the little pile of clothes. The bath had done her well, and she now felt that she recognized the face looking back at her in the mirror. Were it not for the collar on her neck, this could have been any day after a bath. Prying her eyes away from her reflection before thoughts of the collar and its meaning caused her to start crying again, she turned to the waiting clothes.

Unfolding the little slips of cloth caused her to rethink the word ‘clothes,’ revealing them to be nothing more than a pair of black thigh high stockings, panties, and a tiny, fishnet dress of some kind. She had seen women wearing clothes like these before, but only ever prostitutes on television or sorority girls at trashy Halloween parties.  Grimacing at the thought of dressing like this for her captor, she pulled the panties into place.  They were sheer black boy shorts outlined with red piping, a single small red flower embroidered on the front of them along the waistline.  The panties matched the stockings she’d worn the day before, she realized.  She picked up the stockings, discovering that they were the same ones, each embroidered with a red flower and patterned with the climbing vines.

Holding the stockings, Allison’s hands trembled as her mind went back to what he had done to her while she wore these last.  It was as though she could feel the tightness of her bonds again, stretching and bending her body so painfully.  The welts on her body, soothed as they were by the long bath, seemed to flare up anew in agony at the memory of the brutal whipping she had received.  
“God damn it, you can’t do this to me!” she screamed violently, the stockings crumpled in her fists.  The sound of her voice echoed back on her in the small bathroom.  

When she saw herself in the mirror, the image horrified Allison even more than her earlier reflection with the bondage gear had.  Her eyes were wide in terror.  She hardly recognized herself, her features twisted in an expression that seemed to embody the helplessness that threatened to overwhelm her.

Allison shook her head quickly, taking deep breaths through flared nostrils as she struggled to get herself under control.  Panic and screaming were not going to lead to a way out of this place, she knew.  Her captor was careful and deliberate, but he would eventually make a mistake.  He had to.  No one was perfect.  And when he did, she needed to be ready.  For now, she had to finish dressing and that, at least, would be better than prancing around the place in only her panties.

Holding the dress low, Allison stepped into it.  Drawing the clinging material up over her body, she discovered that it was backless.  The front plunged low in a deep V and a pair of straps tied off behind her neck to keep it up in place.  Frowning, Allison looked at her reflection in the mirror as she tried to work the thing into place.  The fishnet did little to conceal her body.  She could clearly see her breasts and nipples through it, as well as the shape of the panties, even down to the rose on the front.  Tugging the hem of the short skirt down, it reached only just past the bottom of the panties, but every movement she made seemed to entice it to crawl up higher on her hips.

Giving up on the skirt, Allison turned her attention to the stockings.  Sliding them sheer black stockings up her legs, she struggled not to spiral downward to the place where they had sent her before.   When they were in place, she moved to look at herself in the full length mirror on the back of the locked door. The short skirt allowed a full view of the red flowers on the tops of the stockings, and of bare thigh between the two. The entire costume looked ridiculous.  It was something that other girls wore, not girls like her.

Finally breaking her gaze away from this bizarre image of herself, she returned her attention to getting ready. With no hairdryer in sight, she towel-dried her hair, rubbing vigorously at it before brushing it out, her light brown tresses falling into familiar place to frame her worried face. The only other things left to her were a toothbrush and some paste. Her stomach grumbled as she brushed her teeth, and she realized how hungry she was getting. Finished rinsing, she bent over to drink water from the tap, thirsty and not sure when she would get another chance to drink her fill.

After her drink, Allison knew that her time might be running out now, so she turned her attention to the waiting handcuffs and belt on the counter. She disentangled the chains, stretching them out on the counter to get a full view of them.  The belt was thick, tan-colored leather.  There was a metal ring secured to the front of it, with a pair of steel handcuffs locked to the ring.  There was no chain between these cuffs, only a flat hinged bar.  Another chain was attached to the ring, this one leading to another set of cuffs, its end attached to the short chain between the other set of cuffs.  

This was part of his game, she realized as she looked down at the cuffs on the counter.  Her mind flashed back to the initiation that she had gone through after making the soccer team.  Each of the new girls had received a note telling them to meet at the locker room after hours.  The tone of the note was blunt.  They might have made the roster in the coach’s opinion, but each of them was going to have to be accepted by the other girls before they really made the team.  The instructions were simple.  Each girl was to sit in front of her newly assigned locker, dressed in her uniform.  They were then to blindfold themselves and wait in silence.

When she had asked, later, why they started things that way, one of the older girls had been happy to tell her the answer.  After all, Allison would be among those responsible for hazing the next group of new girls.  That thought sent a shiver down Allison’s spine.  Would she ever see the other girls from the team again?  She pushed that thought aside.  The older girl had told her that the new girls were told to blindfold themselves for a couple reasons.  First, the older girls wanted to see how tightly they would do it.  Would they cheat and leave room to peak out or would they really smother their vision?  Second, it was a show of control.  By making them do it themselves, the older players were making it clear who was in control of the locker room.

That is what he is doing to me now, Allison realized.  By making me put these things on myself, he is trying to break me down.  He is trying to show his dominance.  She realized that she had no choice but to put them on, even armed with this knowledge.  And she would put them on firmly, she decided.  If she left them loose, he would tighten them.  If she put them on tight, then he would think that he was one step closer to controlling her.  Let him think that he is breaking you down, she told herself, and then make him pay when he gets sloppy.

Taking a deep breath, Allison picked up the leather belt.  The chain that led to the other cuffs rattled menacingly across the smooth countertop.  She saw that it did not have a classic buckle to close it.  Instead, there were holes punched in the leather at various intervals along its length on one side of the belt.  A pair of posts was set on the other side and each one had an open padlock attached to it.  She slipped the two padlocks off the posts, careful to keep them open. Then she wrapped the firm leather around her waist, the ring and dangling cuffs in front of her.  
Allison pulled the belt tight around her waist, and then reached behind to force the posts through the open holes.  Without allowing herself time to think about it, she slipped the hasps of the padlocks back through the holes in the posts and then closed them with a click.  The leather pressed firmly into her waist through the material of the dress.  It was tight enough to make him happy, she thought, but not so tight as to cut off her breathing.

Picking up the chains attached to the belt, Allison moved to the toilet seat and sat.  She looked down at the assembled chains on her lap.  Her mind reeled as she contemplated locking them in place on her own body.  The belt had been easy, but these other things would be different.  She could still too vividly recall the feeling of wearing them when he had cuffed her on the side of the road. It felt like she was at a crossroads, with two clear paths open to her.  She was as free, for the moment, as her captor was likely ever going to allow her to be.  She played the thought of resistance out in her head, imagining herself kneeling on the floor waiting for him without wearing the cuffs. Then she would have to overpower him, and get the key to the collar on her neck. Whatever she did to him would have to debilitate him long enough for her to unlock the collar and make her escape from the place.

And, of course, there was another specter hanging over the unlikely prospects of her escape. Holding the steel cuffs in her hands, she harbored no illusions about this day being a pleasant one.  She already knew that she was to be punished.  She trembled at the memories of the punishments he’d already inflicted on her, one hand moving subconsciously to shield between her legs. If she chose to fight him now, to grasp for the slim possibility of escape that the situation presented, it would be an all or nothing gamble. Gaze locked on the gleaming metal cuffs in her hands, she felt tears beginning to pool in her eyes as she weighed her options. She had to choose between a slim hope of escape and the fear of how much worse things could be if she failed.
Of course, she justified to herself, if she tried to escape now, not only would she be punished, but also he wouldn’t be likely to let his guard down again. It made more sense to comply with his demands, to do as she was told, and to wait for an opportunity that actually stood a chance of succeeding. The logic made sense in her mind, but the thought behind them seemed hollow, and she wondered if it was simply motivated with an unwillingness to take the chance of more punishment.
Her decision made, Allison lifted her right foot up onto the seat with her.  Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she closed the first cuff against the sheer material of the black stocking on her ankle. The ratcheting sound echoed in the bathroom, and she felt the first of her tears slip from her eyes, sliding down her cheek.  She cursed herself for the tear.  She was not surrendering to him, she told herself.  She was only doing what she had to do.  She would still fight him.  She would.

Drawing her other leg up onto the seat, she closed the second cuff in place on it, her heart pounding in her chest as she locked the vile restraints onto her own body. Somehow, they felt more confining than they had before, the act of inflicting their imprisoning grip herself amplifying their hold. Rising to her feet, she shuffled to the center of the room, taking small, careful steps to lessen the bite of the metal fetters against her flesh.

Kneeling carefully in the center of the room, she sat back on her heels, feeling her confining anklets press against her ass as she came to rest. The second set of cuffs dangling from the front of the belt. The edges of them felt so cold where they rested against her bare thighs, and she wondered how much longer she had before the deadline was reached. Not wanting to take any chances, she closed the cuff in place on her left wrist. Breathing raggedly, she closed the cuff as tightly as she dared, pressing firmly into her wrist without cutting off circulation. Moving quickly, before she could fully comprehend what she was doing, she moved her second hand into place and closed the open cuff in place on her free wrist.

Allison looked at herself in the mirror on the door before her, a cuffed and collared prisoner dressed like a stripper, kneeling on the floor of some twisted sadist’s dungeon. It all still seemed so unreal to her, utterly impossible that this could be happening to her. She watched as her barely concealed breasts rose and fell, heaving gently as tears streamed down her cheeks.
Allison lowered her eyes as she cried gently, unable to bear the sight of herself like this.  She hated the weakness that she felt within herself.  She had always been a strong person, had never allowed herself to play the part of the victim.  But a victim was what she was here, and she’d now compounded her helplessness by locking herself in the cuffs without a fight.

“It just wasn’t time to fight yet,” she whispered softly as she knelt, but she took little consolation in the words.
The Mayor's Daughter III: Miller's End - Chapter 3
Those who have read a lot from my gallery will certainly recognize some parallels between this chapter and another in one of my other long works.  That had always been one of my personal favorite chapters of those I'd written and I thought it would be fun to revisit the concept, only with a different captive who had different experiences.  It was fun to explore a little more, using Allison, and see if I could do a better job of hitting the target.

Of course, I also like to imagine that Officer Marlow got the idea from my other story.  ;)
Loading...
Someone bought me a Core Membership, I have just realized...  Does anyone know if there is a way to find out who so that I can thank them?  If it was you, thanks!  Let me know.  I have a gift in mind!

Mature Content

This content is intended for mature audiences.


or, enter your birth date.*


Month

Day

Year*
Please enter a valid date format (mm-dd-yyyy)
Please confirm you have reviewed DeviantArt's Terms of Service below.
* We do not retain your date-of-birth information.
Chapter Two
Uncomfortable Silence

Jessica breathed hard through her nose as she knelt at the post to which she was locked, looking down at the woman on the floor.  Gone was the uniform and gun that had filled her heart with hope only moments before.  In place of the crisp blue uniform there was now the woman’s bare, tanned flesh and the simple cotton material of her bra and panties.  In place of the gun were gleaming steel cuffs locked securely around her ankles and wrists, keeping her stretched out on the cold stone floor.  Jessica whined softly as she bit down on the steel bit that split her lips.

“It’s going to be all right, Jessica,” the woman spoke evenly, her voice sounding calm and assured despite her current predicament.  Jessica marveled at the confident tone, taking some renewed hope from it.  “I’m going to get us out of here.  Just stay strong for me.”

“Ghi.. Ghi…” Jessica tried to speak around the bit in her mouth, but she could feel it beginning to slip backward at the attempt.  She quickly bit down on it firmly once more, feeling new tears welling up in her eyes.

“It’s okay,” the captive officer spoke.  “Don’t try to talk.  Help is on the way.  Maybe not right away, but it’s co-“

Jessica screamed into her gag, cutting off the woman’s words.  She shook her head quickly, as much as the collar on her neck would allow.  Hot tears streamed down her cheeks.  Whatever the woman was about to say, Jessica wanted to hear it.  But she knew that he would be listening or at least recording what was spoken in the room.  She couldn’t let him discover whatever the policewoman had been about to reveal.

“He’s listening,” the woman spoke softly, and Jessica saw understanding in the policewoman’s eyes.

Jessica nodded, feeling another tear slip down her cheek.

“So it’s best for us not to talk, then,” the raven-haired woman continued.  “Just know that we’re going to get out of this.  You’re going home.”  The woman looked past Jessica, addressing the other girl. “You both are.  We’re getting out of here.  And it’s not your fault, Nevada.  None of this is.  Don’t let him get to you.”

Even as she tried to take some solace in the officer’s words, Jessica could feel dread creeping into her.  Even the name that the officer used for the other girl, Nevada, seemed to make a mockery of the woman’s promise.  Nevada wasn’t the girl’s name.  The officer did not know the girl’s real name any more than Jessica herself did.  She had believed, she had really believed, that the officer and her gun had meant salvation for them.  And yet here the woman was, another chained captive in the mill.  

Jessica heard a soft whimper from behind her.  She carefully turned her head to look at her fellow pony girl, the rough wood of the post brushing against her cheek as she moved.  The strain in Nevada’s body was immediately evident as the girl struggled to remain up on her toes.  Jessica could see thigh and calf muscles trembling with the effort, toes splayed on the floor.  The heavy wooden stocks blocked Jessica’s view of the girl’s face, but she could see the way the wood pressed against the flesh of her throat.

“How are my girls doing?” their captor asked as he stepped back into the room.  “Getting to know each other a little?”

Jessica turned back to face him, grateful to no longer see Nevada’s torment.  He carried what appeared to be an aerosol canister in one hand and a bundle of chains, duct tape, and material in the other.  He moved to kneel beside the imprisoned officer, and Jessica watched her shy away from him on the floor as he placed the bundle down with a rattle of chain.  He reached out to gently run the fingers of his now-empty hand across the policewoman’s stomach.

“Get your hands off me, you fucking p-aaaah!” The woman’s angry words were quickly cut off by the spray of liquid across her features.  

The flesh of the woman’s cheeks immediately reddened as the spray coated them.  Jessica saw her eyes squeeze tightly shut even as they grew red and puffy.  The policewoman breathed out hard through her nose with a spray of the stuff, lips tightly sealed.

“Pepper spray is a bitch, isn’t it?” Their captor chuckled as he ceased the spray and set the canister down on the ground.  “Fortunately, I’m sure that you’ve experienced it before at the academy.  Does that make it any easier?  Does that make it burn less?”

The woman did not respond to his taunts, and Jessica could see the tortured her chest heaving as she convulsed under the effects of the stuff.  Jessica watched tears mixing with the spray on the woman’s face as she snorted and gasped through clenched teeth.  From the pile of things he’d brought with him, Jessica saw the man pull out a sheer piece of nylon.  Without warning, he thrust it down over the woman’s head.  The tight press of the material compressed the policewoman’s face beneath, pressing in tightly against her wet features and squashing her nose.

Whistling softly, the man picked up the roll of duct tape and began to wrap it around the nylon stocking that covered the policewoman’s head.  She watched as the sticky stuff went round and round until the woman’s face was completely covered save for a small gap where her nostrils had been.  The sound of the woman’s labored breathing filled the small room as the officer continued downward with the tape until layer upon layer covered her from the top of her head down to the base of her neck.

“Now I don’t have to listen to that smart mouth anymore,” the man spoke as he shifted, moving the roll of tape up to the woman’s left hand where it was held in place above her head by the cuff whose chain ran through the bars of the cage.  “By the time it comes off, you’ll be all ready to tell me all about how you found me here.”

Jessica watched the woman’s hand thrash against the bars of the cage as he began to wrap tape around it.  Despite the woman’s efforts, Jessica saw her fingers slowly disappear as they were covered, gradually balled into a tight fist beneath the insistent press of the tape.  Straddling her waist, he turned his attention to her other hand, setting upon it with the tape until both of her hands were nothing more than blunt nubs covered in the grey tape above the cuffs on her wrists.

“How does your savior look now, Sierra?” The man asked, turning his eyes to glare at Jessica where she knelt.  “Officer Morgan is going to go spend some quality time on the cot while I attend to some business.

Jessica quickly lowered her eyes, unwilling to meet his gaze.  She could hear the woman’s labored breathing and the rattle of chain.  She looked up to watch him close a heavy steel collar around Morgan’s throat.  It was more than a collar, though, she saw.  From each side of it protruded a gleaming steel pole, each ending with another metal cuff.  Jessica watched him close a heavy padlock in place on the center of the collar, locking it on the woman’s throat.

Jessica watched, transfixed, as he unlocked the cuff on the woman’s left wrist with a key and then re-locked the cuff to one of the bars of the cage.  Officer Morgan struggled as he tried to control her arm, drawing it free of the sleeve of her uniform shirt.  Shaking his head, he reached down to place the palm of his hand over the opening in the tape on the woman’s face.  Officer Morgan thrashed on the floor, and Jessica could see the woman’s chest heaving beneath the hovering officer who straddled her.  

“You can relax and let me work,” the man hissed angrily to her, “or you can suffocate.  It makes no difference to me.”

The fight left the policewoman in a moment, and Jessica heard her sucking in air through her nose as the hand was removed from her face.  She watched as the woman allowed him to remove the shirt sleeve and then draw the tape-covered hand up to the waiting cuff where it protruded from the collar, slightly beyond the woman’s shoulder.  She watched him tighten the cuff until it pressed firmly in place around the woman’s wrist and then lock it with another padlock like the one that hung from the front of the collar.

As Officer Marlow turned his attention to the woman’s other hand, Jessica felt revulsion welling up inside her.  She couldn’t blame the woman for her lack of resistance now.  Jessica knew how futile a continued fight would be, and yet she still found herself angry with the woman.  She was angry at the officer for failing.  She was angry at her for giving in to him now, despite the hopelessness of the situation.  But most of all, she was angry for the false hope that the woman’s appearance had given her.

With the policewoman’s wrists now both locked in the cuffs, elbows bent with her hands up to either side of her head and out, their captor turned his attention to the woman’s feet.  He released one cuff only long enough to slip it out of the ring on the floor before locking it back in place on her ankle.  Taking hold of the poles on either side of her collar, the man pulled Morgan roughly up onto her feet.

The transformation in the woman startled Jessica.  She had seemed so strong and confident just moments before.  Now, locked in the chains and cuffs, her head and hands plastered with tape, she seemed a different person, so small and powerless.  Jessica felt as though she might be looking into a mirror.

“If Sierra could talk right now, I am sure she would tell you all about the horror that you’re about to experience on the cot,” the man spoke cruelly as he took hold of the woman’s hair from behind and began to thrust her forward out of the room.  “But that’s okay, since it’s really a personal experience that you should learn first-hand.”

Jessica watched them leave the room, the woman’s shuffling steps brought up short by the chain between her cuffed ankles.  She prayed that the woman’s words were true and that help really was coming.  But, in the cold room, kneeling in the hay in her bonds, it seemed a fragile hope at best.
The Mayor's Daughter III: Miller's End - Chapter 2
A shorter chapter here, from Jessica's perspective, dealing with the aftermath from the first chapter.
Loading...

Mature Content

This content is intended for mature audiences.


or, enter your birth date.*


Month

Day

Year*
Please enter a valid date format (mm-dd-yyyy)
Please confirm you have reviewed DeviantArt's Terms of Service below.
* We do not retain your date-of-birth information.
Chapter One
Officer Kate Morgan

Officer Kate Morgan stood dumbstruck by the scene before her.  It felt as though she had somehow stepped into a frame from a horror movie, and it was no more welcoming to her than it would have been there.  Seeing her fellow officer’s patrol car parked outside, she hadn’t known what to expect when she entered.  There had been talk about Officer Marlow, whispers amongst the force about his idiosyncrasies and his general oddness.  There had been talk that he was a “dirty” cop, but she had never known whether to believe it.  When she’d received the report from a local that a police car was seen driving down an out-of-the way road a few times, she’d been suspicious.  She’d assumed that he was involved in drugs or one of the many other mundane things that bad cops were always drawn to.  But the questions and whispers she had heard about him had not prepared her for the scene before her.

The room itself was small and outfitted like some sort of torture chamber.  It was the sort of setting you would expect to see in a haunted house, not in an old and abandoned mill.  But, where those scenes were often cheap and clearly fake, there was nothing artificial about what she was looking at now.  The stocks and racks and chains that filled the room were nothing short of real.  That much was obvious even beyond the way in which they were currently being used.

The first girl was standing up high on her toes with her back to Kate.  She couldn’t see the captive girl’s face, trapped as it was on the other side of the heavy wooden stocks that enclosed her neck and wrists.  Kate could see the distress in the other girl’s trembling body, however, forced to remain high up on her toes with her legs pressed together, making herself as tall as possible to avoid the obvious pressure of the wood against her throat.  With each little motion the girl made, Kate could hear the tight handcuffs on her ankles clank together.  

The second girl knelt on the floor.  Where the first girl wore a harness of black leather straps around her body, the second was adorned in white.  Kate winced at the way that the second girl’s upper body was compressed by the tight leather corset that pressed into her.  She wore knee-high boots of matching white leather, but where there would normally be feet, Kate could see the hoof-like shapes of their bottoms.  She could see the way that the boots held the girl’s heel up aloft but without the support that heels would offer.  The girl’s arms were trapped behind her back inside some additional leather contraption that Kate could only glimpse from her position.

The second girl’s face, however, was the most shocking sight to Kate.  Thin white straps pressed into her cheeks and wrapped around her head.  Her mouth was forced to remain open in a disturbing grimace by the gleaming steel bar that the girl clutched between her teeth.  And the look in the girl’s eyes sent a chill down Kate’s spine.  She saw horror there, and terror of what was happening to her.  But then, as the girl’s eyes fell upon her, she saw hope.  It was a frightened, desperate glimmer, but hope nonetheless.  There was something familiar about the girl’s face, even distorted as it was, but she couldn’t place where she might have seen her before.

“Freeze,” Kate demanded, lifting her pistol as Officer Marlow turned to face her.  He was still in his full police uniform, though his badge and nametag were conspicuously absent.  The fact that he would wear his uniform for such activity revolted her.  His face was concealed behind a black ski mask, leaving only his mouth and eyes open.  She saw his eyes narrow as he faced her, his hands down by his sides.

“Officer Morgan,” he spoke slowly, and she thought she saw the hint of a smile on his lips.  “What brings you to my family mill?”

“Hands up,” she ordered, clutching her pistol in both hands as she kept the barrel trained on him.  She stood in a shooter’s stance with her feet wide.  It was a position she’d taken countless times at the shooting range and in her training, but one that she had never actually used in the field.

Shaking his head, he slowly raised his hands from where they rested too close to his own firearm at his waist.  He stopped when they were at shoulder height, elbows bent.

“There’s nothing to be alarmed about, Officer Morgan,” he spoke again.  She could hear the light nature of his voice, almost as though he were on the verge of laughing.  “I can explain everything.”

“You can explain everything?” she asked in disbelief.  “I sincerely doubt that.  Are you going to try and tell me that this is just some sort of sex party I’ve stumbled on?”

“Oh no, nothing so inconceivable as that,” he answered, and this time he did laugh.  The sound of it sickened her.  That he could laugh in a place of so much obvious suffering spoke volumes about him.  “I wouldn’t insult your intelligence with that brand of nonsense.”

“Then what?” Kate demanded, her finger hovering over the gun’s trigger.  “What exactly are you going to explain to me that can’t wait for a holding cell back at the station?”

“Well, if you go through with that threat, then you will have missed the opportunity of a life-time,” he spoke, holding her gaze.  “Something that would make that pathetic pension they hold over us seem like the joke that it is.”

“Are you offering me a bribe?” she asked.  She held his gaze, keeping the gun’s sights aim directly between his eyes.

“I am offering you a business opportunity,” he answered, seemingly un-phased by the barrel of the pistol that bore down on him.  In the small room, he was only a few feet away from her.  The close proximity of the madman was a little unnerving to her as she kept her grip steady on the weapon.

“A business opportunity?” she asked in disbelief.  “No, I’m sorry, I’ve never really considered kidnapping to be the right sort of business for me.”

“Oh, but it’s so much more than that,” he replied, his smile growing.  “You would be a fool if you didn’t, at least, hear me out.”

“I don’t need to hear anything about what’s going on here,” Kate responded coldly. “I just need you to turn around and put your hands behind your head.”

“What about if I told you that my little enterprise here is raking in an easy $100,000 per month,” he offered, cocking his head slightly to one side as his smile grew.  “You’d rather arrest me than get a part of that?”

“Yes,” Kate answered quickly.  No amount of money would make her turn a blind eye to the look she’d seen on the girl in white’s face.  “Now, turn around and keep your hands up where I can see them.”

“So that you can call this in,” he spoke calmly, holding her gaze still.  “So that you can call for backup.  You’re here all by yourself, aren’t you?”

“No,” Kate lied.  She hadn’t called it in because she was investigating a fellow officer.  If she’d called it in over the radio, he would have heard it, too, and would have been alerted to the fact that she was coming.  She wondered now, having seen what he was doing here, what he would have done with those few minutes of warning.  What would she have walked into then?   “My backup is sweeping the perimeter now.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” he answered with another laugh.  

“Stop right there!” Kate quickly demanded as he took a step closer to her, finger beginning to press on the pistol’s trigger.  “Do not think I won’t shoot you.”

“Oh, I have every reason to believe you would,” he answered, still smiling.  “I can see the disgust on your face.  You don’t hide it well.”

“I’m not trying to hide it,” she answered with a sneer.  “Now, turn around and keep your hands up.”

“No backup, here all alone,” he continued, ignoring her demand once more.  “And your heart is racing a mile a minute.  I can see it.  You’re literally on a hair trigger, right now, aren’t you?”

“Yes, you bet your fucking ass I am,” she replied coldly.  “I’m having a hard time coming up with reasons not to shoot you right now.  One more step and the decision will be a much easier one.”

“Shhoookk… Ghim…” The words came from the unseen lips of the girl who was stretched up on her toes, the one in black.  From the distorted nature of them, Kate could tell that the girl must be gagged in some fashion, like the other in white.

“Nevada, you’re going to regret saying that,” Officer Marlow spoke.  Kate could hear the firmness in his voice.  More than that, she could hear his conviction.  He truly believed that he was still going to continue his sick game.

“Everything’s going to be fine, Nevada,” Kate added, seeing the girl’s body quivering as she struggled to stay up on her splayed toes out of the corner of her eye.  She didn’t dare to take her eyes off Marlow, standing so close to her now in the small room.  “Now, this is your last warning.  Turn around, now.”

“Do you recognize her?” he asked, cocking his head to the side again and gesturing toward where the girl in white knelt.  “You should.  She was all over the papers recently.”

Keeping the gun trained on Marlow, Kate slowly lowered her eyes to the girl on the floor.  She had looked familiar.  Who was she?  The girl’s cheeks were stained with tears now as she looked back up at Kate hopefully.  Kate kept her eyes averted from the sight of the girl’s small, bare breasts heaving as they glistened with fallen tears.  She focused on the face.  Where had she seen her before?

“Miller,” Kate finally spoke softly as she recognized the poor girl’s face from the many times it had been splashed across the newspaper and local news reports: the mayor’s daughter.  The girl been reported missing and then found dead in a horrific car accident.  Kate felt her stomach drop at the thought.  Had the girl been here all this time?

“3…. 2… 1…” Marlow spoke slowly.  The standing girl, the one in black, suddenly screamed in terror and then Kate heard a horrible gagging sound.

Kate began to raise the barrel of the pistol again, her eyes quickly returning to the other officer as he spoke.  The girl in the stocks was convulsing, her body jerking wildly as her bare feet jerked up off the ground, stopped only by the tight cuffs on her ankles and the chain that linked them to the floor.

And then Marlow was moving.  Kate pulled the trigger, but she knew instantly that her aim was off.  She heard the bullet hit something across the small room from her as he ducked low and dove forward toward her.  She felt his shoulder hit her abdomen hard, knocking the wind from her as she toppled backward under the weight of him.  She brought the pistol grip down, aiming for the back of his head, but it struck his shoulder instead as he drove her forward.  They hit the ground hard, Kate’s bottom driving into the cement floor with Marlow on her lap.  As she toppled backward, she felt the back of her head hit something hard and she saw stars for a moment.  The cage, she realized.  He’d knocked her back against the cage.

“You stupid fucking bitch,” Marlow growled as Kate recovered quickly.  She tried to bring the gun around, grateful that it was still in her hand.  And then she felt his firm grip on her wrist, strong fingers digging into her flesh through the sleeve of her uniform.  “You almost ruined everything.”

Kate kicked out hard, trying to get her legs between her and him as he held tight to her wrist.  With her free hand, she reached for her belt, grabbing at the taser’s holster there.  She could see the crazed look in his eyes as he grinned down at her behind the mask, moving to straddle her legs as he faced her.  She hissed with relief as she felt the snap on the taser’s holster pop free.  

Without warning, he rammed his forehead hard down into hers.  White flashed across her vision as the impact sent her head backwards, crashing once more into a metal bar of the cage against which her back rested.  She cried out as she felt him twist her arm through the fog of pain that consumed her mind.   She felt her fingers releasing the gun as he turned her over to face the floor.   All of the joints of her held arm ached from his sudden fierce pressure on them.  He was on her back now as she lay on her stomach, her arm twisted up oddly behind her, hand bent at an awkward angle.

“If you reach for that taser again, I’m going to break your arm,” he said coldly as he held her.  “You know I can do it.  You’ve done this before.”

Kate remained silent.  He was right.  He had all the leverage.

“Now, grab one of the bars of that cage with your free hand or you’re going to need surgery,” he demanded.

“Fuck!” Kate cried out in pain as she felt him increase the pressure on her wrist.  She quickly moved her free hand away from her belt and up to grab one of the cold metal bars of the cage, as he’d ordered.  “You’re making this worse for yourself, Marlow.”

“Am I now?” he asked, and then Kate heard the ratcheting sound of a handcuff opening, metal grating on metal.  “I don’t know about that.”

“I don’t know how you got away with this so far,” Kate spoke firmly, trying to keep her voice steady as she felt him close a cold metal cuff around the wrist of the hand that held the bar.  “But do you really think you can keep three missing women here and not get caught?  And one of them a cop?  Kidnappers always get caught.”

“Because kidnappers are always stupid,” he answered.  Kate heard the rattling of chain against metal.  “But I’m smarter than all those amateurs.”

Kate breathed hard through her nose, teeth clenched, as he slowly adjusted the hand that he held behind her back.  He kept the pressure on her wrist, bending it painfully as he moved it out to her side and then reached it up toward where her other wrist waited.  She tried to pull away, but then only cried out anew in pain as he twisted her held wrist painfully.  For a moment, she thought it would snap, but then she relaxed and he returned to moving it almost gently to meet the first.  She winced as she felt him close the cuff tightly around her wrist.  Lifting her cheek from where it rested on the cold cement floor, she saw that the chain between the cuffs had been run around one of the bars of the cage.

“I found you, didn’t I?” she asked as she tried to fight back the shudder of fear that ran through her body.  She could feel his weight on her back, pinning her to the floor.  She was cuffed to the cage in this house of horrors.  Why hadn’t she just shot him when she had the chance?

“Yes, you did, and we’ll have to spend some time talking about that later,” he answered.  She felt him shift on her back, turning to face her legs.  He kept the pressure down on her, bearing down with his weight and not allowing her a chance to kick free.  He moved down along her body, stopping when he was sitting on the backs of her thighs.  “You’ll have to tell me all about the events that brought you here, so that I can make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

“Harris knows I’m here,” Kate spoke, feeling him lift her left foot off the ground.  She felt his hands on her boot and quickly jerked it away from his hold.  “When I told him about my suspicions, he let me go look.  If he doesn’t hear back from me, he’ll know that something happened.  He’ll know that you’re behind it.”

Kate tried to remain still as she felt him shifting against her body.  She turned her head, craning her neck to see what he was doing.  Harris hated Marlow.  She knew that, and Marlow knew it, too.  Harris knew that Marlow was dirty, and had been looking for a way to bring him down for at least the three years that Kate had been on the force.  She caught sight of him just in time to see him pivot at the waist, still sitting on the backs of her thighs.  She tensed as she saw his raised fight in the air and then cried out in pain as he brought it down hard against her back, driving it into her kidney.  She coughed, sputtering for breath as her body convulsed beneath him from the wicked strike.  Pain radiated out from her lower back as she felt tears stinging her eyes.

“You didn’t tell Harris,” he spoke calmly.  “Whatever you thought was going on out here; you didn’t know that it involved me.”

“You’re wrong,” Kate panted and then she cried out once more as he struck her hard, his fist hitting her in the same spot again.  She pulled hard at the cuffs that held her wrists trapped against the bars of the cage, her body tensing at the impact of his fist.  She coughed again, almost gagging on the pain that consumed her.  

“You didn’t tell Harris.  If you’d told him, he would never have let you come out here alone.  He hates me,” he spoke venomously.  “Do you know why I hit you?”

“Because of what I said about Harris?” she asked.  He shifted again.  For a brief moment, she felt the pressure of his body lift from her.  And then she cried out as he yanked on her legs, pulling her away from the cage until her arms were stretched out towards it before he settled into place on her legs once more.

“No,” he answered simply.  She felt his hands on her foot again.

“Then it’s because you like hitting women,” Kate answered, lifting her head from where it rested on the ground to look up along her outstretched arms to the cuffs that held tight to her wrists.  She groaned, her breathing quickening as he lifted her boot again with a sick laugh.

“Actually, no, I don’t enjoy hitting women much,” he replied.  She felt him tug the laces of her boot free.

“Then why?” she asked.

“Because you pulled your foot away from me,” he responded simply.  “You will quickly lead that I get my way here.  But we’ll have plenty of time for you to become intimately familiar with that fact.”

Kate felt her boot loosen and then he pulled it free to uncover her foot and its sock below.  Her sock came next as he held her foot upright, and she wiggled her toes a little in the air as it came free.  He lowered it to the ground, and she felt the cool cement against her bare foot.

“Is that what this is about?” she asked as he lifted her other foot and she felt her boot loosening like the first.  “Some bitch at home that doesn’t let you have your way so you take it out on others?  I’ve seen your type before.”

“Would it make you feel better to believe that?” he asked with a laugh as he removed her boot and then the sock.  “Would it make you feel better about the situation you’re in right now?”

“Fuck you,” Kate spat as he released her second foot and allowed her to lower it to the ground with the first.

Kate grunted as he shifted again, rising from her body.  She tried to pull herself forward away from him by her cuffed hands, but he was holding her in place by the back of her belt now.  He took hold of her hips and turned her over roughly.  The chain between her hands twisted as he flipped her easily, the cuffs biting painfully into her wrists.  She glared up at him as he sat down straddling her thighs again.

“You’re Spanish, right?” he asked and she watched his hands move to her belt, slowly opening the buckle there.  

“Portuguese,” she hissed as he tugged the belt free.  She felt a dread settle into her as she watched him turn his attention to the button of her pants, opening it and unzipping them.  “What the fuck does that matter?”

“Oh, I suppose it doesn’t matter, when you put it that way,” he answered as he began to tug downward on the waistline of her pants.  She watched, helplessly as they were drawn down her thighs.   The bottom hem of her uniform shirt was revealed, and then bare thighs beyond.  He moved back along her legs as he pulled down her pants.  “It’s just something I’ve been curious about ever since you joined the force.”

“Oh, so you’re a racist and a chauvinist?” she spat as he stopped when he reached her ankles.  She watched him unclip her own handcuffs from their spot on her belt, swinging them open and dangling them above her.  “Aren’t you special?”

“Curiosity makes me a racist?” he laughed as he brought the first cuff down, closing it around her left ankle as he pulled the pant-leg free from it.

“The fact that you noticed is a sign,” she answered, watching as he pulled the other cuff away, threading it through a waiting ring set into the floor.  He held tight to her other ankle as he pulled the pants away from it, and then closed the second cuff in place around it.

“You know, I’ve never been a big fan of the race card,” he said as he moved alongside her on her knees.  She pulled at the cuffs on her wrists and ankles, feeling the tight metal against her flesh, keeping her drawn out between the cage and the ring on the floor.  “I feel like it’s just over-played.”

“Funny, but I’ve never met a white man who felt differently,” she returned angrily.  She could only watch as his hands moved to the buttons of her shirt, starting at the bottom and slowly opening them.

“Ah, but you see,” he said softly.  She watched as the bottom of her shirt fell open, revealing her white cotton panties beneath.  “I don’t hold your race against you. And I think very few people ever have.  Your skin, for example” he said softly as the taut flesh of her stomach was revealed beneath the shirt as it continued to fall open.  He ran a finger along the bare skin there, making her breathing quicken as a flutter ran through her belly.  “It’s simply intoxicating.  How would you describe it?  Tan?  Mocha?  White girls like Jessica spend a fortune trying to get just this shade.”

“I’d describe it as get your fucking hands off me,” Kate growled as he continued to play the fingers of one hand along her flesh while the other moved up along the shirt, opening it as it traveled.  But the words sounded hollow, such an empty threat, even to her.

“You had me, you know,” he said as he continued to unbutton her shirt.  She watched as it fell away from her breasts, revealing where they rose and fell quickly behind the simple material of her matching white cotton bra.

“Yeah, and I should have just fucking shot you when I had the chance,” she replied as he finished the last of the buttons, her collar falling open to either side of her.  “I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Well, sure, then, too,” he chuckled.  Kate gasped as his hands moved to her breasts, grasping them through the material of her bra.  She felt his fingers digging into the soft flesh of the round globes, mauling them as she clenched her teeth.  “But I’m not talking about then.”

“Get your fucking hands of me, you piece of shit,” Kate hissed angrily as he continued to fondle her breasts, but his hands did not respond to her powerless demand.

“Aren’t you at least curious as to when I am talking about?” he asked, his hands stopping their movement to simply grip her breasts.

“Fine, I’ll play your game,” Kate spoke as she squirmed against the concrete, glaring up at him.  “When did I screw up?”

“You went for your taser,” he answered softly, and she felt his hands tighten on her breasts through the material of her bra.  “What’s the most powerful weapon that you have?  The first thing you’re trained to go for when things go wrong?”

Kate scowled, turning her face to look away from him, around the small room.  She knew exactly what he was talking about.  It had been engrained into her, into all of the recruits, at the academy.  It had been right there on her belt next to the taser, her constant companion.

“My radio,” she finally answered, turning her eyes back from the terrible sights the room had to offer to look up at him again.  She saw the smile on his lips at her words, and the cold steel look in his eyes.

“That’s right, Officer Morgan,” he chuckled as his hands resumed their fondling.  “You radio is the most effective and powerful tool in your arsenal.  And, for a moment, I thought you had me.  I thought that’s what you were going for.  Just the touch of a button, and all of this would have come crashing down around me.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kate answered weakly.  “It’s all coming crashing down regardless.  You’re not going to get away with this.”

Kate tried to jerk her head away as one of his hands moved to lightly caress her cheek.  She felt his fingers move to slip to weave its way into the tangled mess of her thick black hair.   She winced as his grip tightened, taking firm hold of the roots of her hair.

“Oh, but I am,” he replied, glaring down at her.  “Though I have to admit, it’s going to take me a little while to figure out exactly what to do with your sweet ass.”

With a final, fierce squeeze to her breasts, he thrust himself up onto his feet.  She looked up at him as he stood above her, the chains on her wrists and ankles rattling against their secured points as she struggled against them to no avail.

“I have to go get a few things to get you properly prepared,” he said as he looked down at her.  “I’ll leave you and the ponies to get acquainted.  I know that it will be a rather one-sided conversation, but maybe you can help them come to terms with the fact that their knight in shining armor failed them.  I’m sure that your incompetence has left her more than a little rattled.  You must have really had their hopes up for a moment.”

Kate watched as he moved to the girl in black, the one held so firmly in place by the wooden stocks that enclosed her neck and wrists.  The girl’s body was covered in sweat from the effort of keeping herself up on her toes.  He slowly ran a fingernail up along the girl’s taut, quivering belly.  The girl in black jerked wildly.  Kate could hear her sputtering and coughing.

“And maybe you can make poor Nevada here deal with the guilt she must be feeling,” he continued as his hand continued to roam across the girl’s stomach.  “She did give me just enough of a distraction to get you, didn’t she?”

“Fuck you,” Kate hissed angrily, pulling at her chains.

I should have been your hero, Kate thought to herself as she watched the girl in black’s body heave with her sobs.  

“Nevada here was the new girl for only a short time now,” he said as he moved his hand to grasp the girl’s bottom through the sheer black panties that covered them.  Kate could see the girl’s body tense.  “And you’ve interrupted her training.  I’m sure that she’s also quite upset with you for that.”

“I’m sure she’s just –“ Kate began, but her words were cut off as Marlow took a quick step toward her and then abruptly kicked her hard in the side.  The impact of his boot against the side of her stomach robbed her of her breath, leaving her panting on the floor as he began to walk out of the room.

“Officer Morgan,” he said coldly, stopping at the door for a moment.  “I don’t give a damn what you think.  Remember that.”

Without another word, he left the room, leaving Kate to gasp for breath on the cold floor.
The Mayor's Daughter III: Miller's End - Chapter 1
At long last, we finally officially welcome Officer Kate Morgan to the Mill.

She's a bit of a different character than those I usually write about.  I hope you like her!  And I hope you're not too disappointed with the final reveal of who she really is!
Loading...
The talented DavidPresents sent me some questions to answer.  Since the first one might be relevant to any of my watchers, I figured I would post the responses here as well.

1.  What convinced me to return to DeviantArt?

This is a really hard one to answer.  Mainly it's difficult because I don't feel like I "decided" to return, any more than I "decided" to leave.  In a way, I never left totally.  I was always checking in and looking for inspiration.  I'm writing and posting stories again because I can.  It's really as simple as that.  It comes and goes with me, I think mainly depending on how good a place I am at in the real world.

When I'm not feeling inspired to write, I don't get involved because I feel bad.  It's hard to see people who are anxiously awaiting continuations of my stories when I can't give them.  So, when I'm not writing, I kind of drift away from DeviantArt until I feel like I'm in a place where I can actually contribute.  

I know I shouldn't, but when I'm not contributing I feel like garbage checking in on my page here.

So, I guess the short answer is that I came back because I have something to offer!

2.  Who is my favorite OC?  What qualities does he/she have that makes them feel so special?

This is another hard one to answer.  I think that all of my characters are imperfect in their own ways.  I try to write them that way, intentionally, to make them feel more real to me.

I love Maria's fight and resolve from Slave to the Machines.  I love Maise's concern for her friend in Sentinels in Training.  And, apparently, I love "M" names because I love Mel's struggle with dealing with her online fantasies being brought to life in Over Her Head.

In the end, I think that Mel is probably my favorite.  She's bright and clever and has a kinky streak a mile wide.

3.  I see you enjoy cooking.  What dish would you make if you had one chance to really impress someone.

This would depend on the circumstances a little.  If it was a dinner situation, I would make my Chicken Tikka Masala with homemade Naan.  It's a killer recipe that has never disappointed.

If it was just any dish, though, and not limited to a dinner option, I would go with my Grandfather's recipe for donuts.  He was a baker for decades in my home town and his donuts are the best I've ever had.  The ones I make in a home kitchen using his recipe aren't quite as good, but they're still delicious and there are great stories and memories that go along with them.

About Requests

I get asked from time to time about whether I take requests.  The answer is a little tricky, so I figured I would post about it here for everyone.

The short answer is that, yes, I do take requests.  Some of the pieces I've written for requests are among the most popular stories I've written.  Paper or Plastic, for example, started out as a request, though it's grown into a life of its own from there.

They don't always go that well, though.  Sometimes, I've tried to take requests and they just don't really work out.  When I think about why some work and some don't, here are the things I've come up with:

Request Style 1:  The victim

These requests are usually very straightforward.  Basically, someone has a particular victim in mind that they'd like to see me torment in a story.  This is how Paper or Plastic started.  Natalie, the requester, didn't ask for the puppygirl story that it became.  She gave me information about herself that became that story.  The same could be said of the Hotel Robbery.  

These requests have the best chance of succeeding and being seen through to completion, with the caveat that I need to have the story brewing inside me that is just waiting for a victim.  So, yeah, I am always interested in hearing about potential victims/heroines/villains that you may be interested in seeing in one of my stories and there's a real chance we could strike gold together!

Request Style 2:  The fetish

A little more commonly, I see requests for specific fetishes.  These can sometimes be broad, like someone asking me to write another ponygirl story.  They can sometimes be very, very specific, like requests I've had to write a story featuring wedgies or cleaning.

These sorts of requests have a much lower chance of working, particularly the more specific they get.  Mainly, that's because my own interests tend to be pretty broad. Even stories that I've written involving very specific fetishes tend to branch out a lot from those areas.  The Mayor's Daughter is a good example here.  While its primary focus is pony play, I couldn't help myself but get out into a lot of other areas, like predicament bondage and electro-torture and the like.

I always love to hear about other specific things that you'd like to see in my stories, though! It's really unlikely I'll be up for the task of making a whole new story to feature these specific fetishes, but with the number of stories I'm usually juggling, there's a real possibility that something you mention might make a good fit for an existing story-line.

Request Style 3:  The completed story

Sometimes a request comes in and it's not just an idea or concept, but rather a whole story arc already dreamed up from start to finish.  Basically, in this case, the requester isn't looking for my imagination or input on the story.  He or she just wants me to take their idea and put it into words.

I've only attempted to take on one such endeavor and it did not end in a good result for the requester.  Looking back, I shouldn't be surprised by that at all.  After all, it's rare that my own stories end up in the place that I imagined them going when I started.  They tend to take on a life of their own as I go and I just follow them as they play out.

This was really disappointing to the requester in the case I am referencing because very quickly he saw that I was telling his story completely wrong.

If you're looking for this type of request, I would recommend that you take the plunge and write the story yourself.  It's not as hard as it appears at first.  Really, the only reason that I started writing myself was because the stories that I wanted to read didn't exist.  I had this clear mental image of what I wanted and nobody was writing it!

Last words on requests

In the end, keep them coming!  Share your thoughts with me and I will do my best to incorporate them into what I write.  When you send them, give me as much to work with as you can.  The more you share (pictures, personalities, concepts, ideals, outfits) the more likely it is that something you share strikes a chord with me as something that I will want to write.

Thanks, as always, for reading!
  • Drinking: Coffee

deviantID

experimenter73
Will
Artist
United States
Current Residence: Buffalo
Favourite genre of music: Very Open
Operating System: Cursed
Personal Quote: Search of all the squares in all of the cities, you'll find no statues to committees
Interests

Comments


Add a Comment:
 
:iconwimbo15:
wimbo15 Featured By Owner 8 hours ago  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Hey Will!!

Mature Content

Thanks 003 by wimbo15
 and for faving

Mature Content

Sacha's Playroom 34 (Censored) by wimbo15
 !!
Reply
:icondevil621:
Devil621 Featured By Owner Jun 13, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
Looks like you are putting up Book 3, Nice. Any more Paper and Plastic?
Reply
:iconheroinetrainer:
HeroineTrainer Featured By Owner Jun 8, 2017  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thank you so much for the watch and comments and Star Nymph!
Reply
:iconexperimenter73:
experimenter73 Featured By Owner Jun 9, 2017
My pleasure! I look forward to exploring more.
Reply
:icondariandomain:
dariandomain Featured By Owner Jun 8, 2017
Greetings and much gratitude for the watch! 
Reply
:iconexperimenter73:
experimenter73 Featured By Owner Jun 8, 2017
My pleasure!  I look forward to exploring your gallery!
Reply
:iconruthlessrazor:
RuthlessRazor Featured By Owner Jun 6, 2017
New stories! A rare and delightful treat, to be sure! <3
Reply
:iconexperimenter73:
experimenter73 Featured By Owner Jun 6, 2017
Thanks!' I hope you enjoy them! As ever, I hope they'll be less rare, too!
Reply
:icondangerguy01:
Dangerguy01 Featured By Owner Jun 5, 2017  Hobbyist Digital Artist
DA Watch sm by Dangerguy01  
Reply
:iconexperimenter73:
experimenter73 Featured By Owner Jun 5, 2017
What a thank you! And my pleasure!
Reply
Add a Comment: