Fucked by my kidnapper 1

I had felt eyes on me for weeks. Two long months of glances over my shoulder, the prickle at the back of my neck whenever I stepped outside our estate. I told myself it was nothing, that the world beyond our gates was just too big and loud for someone like me. Then it happened.

One afternoon, as I walked the path near the side gate, a hand clamped over my mouth and a cloth pressed to my face. Everything went dark. When I woke, my eyes were covered with a thick blindfold and my wrists were bound in front of me. I heard voices, low and urgent, and one of them belonged to a man they called James. They loaded me into a vehicle, drove for what felt like hours, then carried me into a building that smelled of old wood and rain.

They removed the blindfold only after the door shut behind me. I stood in a small, clean room with a single bed, a nightstand, and a tiny attached bathroom. The windows were boarded. James stood in the doorway, tall and calm, his voice surprisingly gentle.

"We’re not going to hurt you," he said. "We just need your parents to pay the ransom. You’ll be safe here."

He left me alone after that. Hours passed. At night he returned with a tray of food—simple but warm. He set it on the nightstand and watched me eat, never crowding me, only speaking when I asked questions. When I finished, he reached out and ran his fingers slowly through my hair. The touch was so light, so unexpectedly tender, that without thinking I leaned into his palm. He let me stay there for a few heartbeats before he pulled away, gathered the plates, and left, locking the door with a quiet click.

I stood under the shower for a long time, letting the hot water wash away the day. My body still hummed from that single, gentle touch. I pressed my back to the cool tile, spread my legs, and slid two fingers between them. I was already slick. I circled my clit in slow, deliberate strokes, remembering the way his fingers had felt in my hair. My other hand cupped my breast, thumb brushing the nipple until it tightened. I worked myself steadily, hips rocking against my own hand, until the tension broke and I came with a soft, shaky moan that echoed off the bathroom walls.

Afterward I dried off, put on the simple cotton nightdress they had left for me, and climbed into the bed. The sheets smelled faintly of him. I closed my eyes, one hand resting between my thighs again, and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

Morning light filtered through the boarded windows when the lock clicked again. James stepped inside carrying a tray loaded with a thick sandwich, fresh fruit, and a small pastry. He set it on the nightstand like he had the night before and waited while I ate. His eyes stayed on me the whole time, calm and steady.

When I finished the last bite he spoke quietly. "You know I watch everything on the cameras." My fork froze halfway to the tray. "Who were you thinking of when you did that last night?"

"Did what?" I asked, voice small.

"Fingered yourself." Heat flooded my cheeks so fast I felt dizzy. I stammered something about hurrying the ransom along, about options, anything to change the subject. He didn’t take the bait.

"Maisy," he said, stepping closer, "I’ll take care of your pussy too until you reunite with whoever you were thinking of."

Before I could answer, his hand slid under the thin nightdress. One finger pushed straight into my cunt, thick and sure. I gasped, legs twitching apart on instinct. No one had ever touched me there. I was only sixteen and my focus had been in school not boys. Choosing rather to satisfy myself with a finger than date. The sensation was overwhelming—wet, stretching, impossibly intimate. He worked the finger in slow circles, curling it until my hips jerked.

He eased my thighs wider with his free hand, kneeling between them. His mouth replaced his finger without warning. He sucked my clit hard, tongue flicking fast. My back arched off the bed. Embarrassment burned through me, but my body betrayed me, rocking against his face. The pressure built fast. I came with a broken cry, thighs clamping around his head as I squirted, soaking his chin and the sheets beneath me.

James pulled back just enough to watch me tremble, a small smile on his wet lips. "Hope you’re not too greedy," he said. "That should help you relax." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, gathered the tray, and left, locking the door behind him with the same quiet click.

Supper arrived much later than usual. My stomach growled the entire time I waited, so when the door finally opened I sat up fast, only to feel a quick sting of disappointment. It wasn’t James. A different man carried the tray inside, set it on the nightstand, and left without a word beyond telling me the boss would come see me soon. Apparently James was the boss.

I ate anyway, tearing through the roast chicken and creamy mashed potatoes in hungry bites until the plate was clean. The man returned, collected the tray, and said the same thing again before locking the door.

A short while later the lock turned once more. James stepped inside without knocking. He closed the door behind him and looked at me with that same calm expression.

"Your parents agreed to meet tomorrow," he said. I nodded, heart beating faster. He studied me for a moment, then added, "I came to take care of your other needs."

Heat rushed through me at those words. My thighs pressed together on their own, and I could already feel myself getting wet. He noticed the shift in my breathing.

"Take off your clothes," he said quietly. "Lie on the bed with your legs apart."

I hesitated only a second before obeying. The cotton nightdress came off over my head. I lay back, spread my thighs, and felt the cool air on my skin. My pussy was already dripping, slick glistening between my folds. I blushed. James stepped closer, looked down, and gave my swollen cunt a light slap. The wet sound was loud in the quiet room.

"I knew it, Miss Maisy. You’re too greedy."

"I’m sorry," I whispered, cheeks burning.

He didn’t answer with words. Instead he leaned down and pressed his mouth to my cunt, kissing it slow and deep, tongue moving in long strokes. My hips twitched. He kept kissing, sucking gently on my clit until my breathing turned ragged, then slid one finger inside me. He worked it in and out, curling it, while his lips stayed on mine.

Without warning he added another finger, then the blunt head of his cock replaced them. I glanced to see the thick seven inches pointing straight ahead. I had expected my first time to be special but this is what I got. He entered me in a sharp thrust. The stretch was sudden. I gasped as he pushed in, filling me completely. Pain mixed with overwhelming fullness. I cried out.

"Fucking virgin." He said and stilled. He watched my face for a while as if considering whether to do it or not. Then started moving, steady thrusts that rocked my body against the mattress. The pain transformed into pleasure. Each stroke dragged over sensitive spots I’d never felt before. And soon I began calling his name. I don't know why I did that.

"James, James oooooh, James."

My walls clenched hard around him. I came fast, helplessly, crying out as my pussy spasmed and squirted around his cock.

"Fuck Maisy. You got good pussy." He said. "So warm and tight."

He didn’t stop. He kept thrusting through my orgasm, then another, until my thighs shook and my voice broke. By the time he finished and pulled out, my cunt felt sore and used, throbbing with every heartbeat. James watched me catch my breath and left quietly.