Dungeon Master – the Collector 3
By
Jay Merson
Copyright. Jay Merson 2005.
The right of Jay Merson to be identified as the author of this book has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights, Designs and Patents Act 1988. Copying of this manuscript, in whole or in part, without the written permission of the author or his publisher is strictly prohibited, illegal and would constitute a breach of copyright held. All characters in this story are aged 18 years and over.
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Chapter 1
She was strapped down on the scrubbed wooden surface of the long, pine table. Gagged and screaming muffled protests, her slim, young body thrashed and writhed as she fought desperately to pull free of her bonds. Her hips pumped up and down wildly, slamming her backside hard down on the wooden surface, her thin summer dress flipping back up her thighs as she did so to reveal a lean expanse of naked thigh and at times, brief flashes of her little white panties beneath. The girl yanked her arms, trying to pull her wrists free of the thick leather straps but, the stretched position she was held in gave her little opportunity to gain the necessary purchase to achieve that. She also kicked her feet and wriggled her hips to try to pull her ankles free but the wide leather straps held her legs fast to the corners of the table, spread wide and rendered completely vulnerable. In the dank, musky room of the dungeon she sobbed and wailed as she waited for him to return, waited for him, the evil and masked bastard that had so cruelly imprisoned her. There was nothing she could do but lie there and wait, for she had no other option. What would happen when he did finally come to her, she could only guess and that made her sense of fear increase further and the nightmare of the situation seem many times more horrifying.
***
The tunnel was long, stretching from one house, across the garden, under the high dividing hedge and the same again to the house next door. Both houses were laid back off the quiet country road on the edge of the village, far back, each in their own grounds and secluded further by the boundary walls and the privet hedge dividing the properties. And yet, both were owned by the same man, even if few others knew that fact, for he had gone to great pains to conceal that knowledge.
The tunnel was a left-over from times gone by, times when his ancestors had found it necessary to evade the authorities. His family, staunch Cromwell supporters during the civil war, had used the tunnel to evade the searching royalists - and death on the axe-man’s block. Kline chuckled at that thought, for he had spent his life continuing the family traditions. He had always known of the tunnel, its secret location passed down through the generations, but never having had need of it – until now that is.
‘Case House’, his original ancestral home, lay to the left of the pair and to the right side, the house that had been held in his mother’s name, ‘The Refuge’ passed over by marital deed by her then husband and his direct ancestor and had remained since in his German name. A perfect smoke screen as to the ownership and, as well as being aptly named, showed no connection to him and case house. Several times the police had searched ‘Case House’, when young local girls had gone missing, but never had they found evidence against him nor too had they discovered the secret entrance to the cellars below and the showcases containing his prized collection. All that had to change though, he had disposed of his existing collection and was about to commence building another. That he would again come under the spotlight of suspicion once the young women began disappearing wasn’t in doubt and he had then to ensure that ‘Case House’ would be free of any evidence against him. That did not, of course, apply to ‘The Refuge’; he could house his showcases and collection there and use the tunnel to move between the two houses unseen.
It was then, during many long nights of sweat and laboured toil, that Kline had dismantled the showcases in ‘Case House’ piece-by-piece and had transported them through the tunnel to the house next door, ‘The refuge’. Naturally, the villagers gossiped, as their own ancestors had done so for hundreds of years before them, pointing the finger at the members of the Kline family, denouncing them as kidnappers and perverts, snatchers of young women - And how right they were. But they only took dirty women, the painted harlots of this world, the bitches that dressed themselves up to attract and to tease men. Sluts that offered but didn’t give, teasing hussies that liked to be admired and wanted - but not touched. These were the women of the world that the Kline family targeted, the pretty bitches with slender bodies, nice breasts and sweet smelling pussys, sluts that would scream loudly as he gave them his own special brand of treatment, teaching them the error of their ways as he played with the items in his collection. It was how it always had been and he intended to continue the family traditions, to the very last detail.
It would be different this time, excitingly and thrillingly different, would be a different method of ensnaring them, a different method of housing them and, a different way of dressing the bitches. His games with them too would take a different turn, a pleasing turn that had his cock at a throbbing hardness even at the very thought of it. His need was great and his desire to start his collection greater still. Kline gripped his pulsing cock through his trousers and gave it a luxurious squeeze. Soon, very soon it could begin.
Kline silently stood in the drawing room of ‘Case House’, by the window, looking down the long curving driveway and eagerly awaiting the arrival of his visitor, the unsuspecting young woman that would soon become the very first addition to his new collection.
***
Katherine Chambers was young, bright and cheerful, full of life and set to do well in her career, she was determined to make it so. Already she had sold seven insurance policies this quarter and her bosses at the insurance company she worked for were plentiful in their praise for her. Now, this morning, she aimed to make that eight policies sold, the pleasant sounding mister Kline would, she felt, fall for her charms - as all the drooling male prospects did, Katherine chuckled to herself as she parked her car in the lane at the end of the driveway, and the silly bitches were all so gullible! Men would sit there, listening to her sales pitch on the benefits of insurance but all the time secretly ogling her legs and thighs, her breasts, mouth and hands. Not that she cared, it was the reason she dressed so, not openly revealing attire but sufficient to look business-like and yet… to reveal enough to take their attentions off the policy details and to allow her to sign them up without difficulty. If she was honest, her sales ability wasn’t that great, but hey! With a flash of cleavage, by crossing her legs more than necessary and by fluttering her eyelids and smiling, she could sell to any panting male.
Not even the whispered advice and office gossip could deter her from this visit, she had to make it, wanted to make it and to earn her total by mid month and to again be the number-one sales person in the entire office. The stories of the horror house didn’t worry her; she had taken the precaution of telling the office where she was, the time of the visit and whom she was seeing. She had too checked the local electoral role and had confirmed that indeed the client to be was the registered owner of the address. She set off, walking confidently up the long driveway, sales commissions figures filling her head and the new car that she had not only promised herself but would be able to now afford…Once, that is, she had done her act on this unmarried and unsuspecting, Mister Kline.
***
She was definitely the type, he decided that, the moment he caught sight of her and he felt a thudding jolt in his cock. The way her hips wiggled and her arse swayed, the over-short skirt, the red painted lips and, that inane sickly smile that all insurance sales people seemed to have permanently etched on their faces. Kline watched her from the window, his mouth open and his stare fixed, both hands in his trouser pockets and fiddling idly with his erect cock through the pocket linings. She had about her a tartish and swaggering manner about her, portraying herself as important and yet, the only important part of her, to him, lay between the tops of her slender thighs. She was a bitch, a wanton and whorish slut that set out to use her body to attract and to tease. He squeezed his aching cock hard and sniggered. He would give her something to tease at all right; just as soon she entered his home. He could see the bounce of her tits as they pushed against the thin material of her white blouse, thrusting out against her restraining bra and he felt himself imagining the sight of her erect nipples and the firm swell her tits would surely have. Kline waited until the doorbell rang and then a moment longer before going to the door and pulling it open, a half-smile on his face as he moved his hungry gaze up and down her legs and body.
“Mister Kline?” she asked, brightly and obviously both aware and revelling in his leering at her.
He nodded but didn’t speak, just stepped back and waved his arm theatrically as he bowed and beckoned the pretty prey into his lair. Kline led the way into the kitchen, motioned with his arm that she should sit at the table and busied himself filling the kettle as she prepared her folder and papers. His cock throbbed in an incessant pulse of need, the bitch was better than he remembered, pleasingly so. “Tea?” he asked kindly.
“Thank you. That would be nice,” she responded as she unloaded reams of papers from her folders and sorted them into order in separate piles on the tabletop.
He turned to ogle her some more and, the dirty bitch was well aware of him doing so, her hand movements became more graceful and purposeful and she hunched her shoulder so that the neck of her blouse opened a little more and revealed the firm beginnings of her cleavage. Slowly and seemingly casually, Kline moved first around to the side of the table and then circled around behind her. His next movement was so swift and unexpected by her that it was completed within a split second. His right arm came around and clamped tightly and hard across her throat, she was lifted and pulled back at the same time, lifting her from her seat and her shoulders and head held firmly back against his chest. Her legs kicked out wildly and her arms flailed uselessly as the crushing pressure across her throat cut off her air flow. Her body arched up, her hips jerking forward as she struggled against him in an effort to break the hold he had on her. As she writhed and thrashed around the chair fell back between then, hitting the floor noisily and then he felt her back pressing hard against his pulsing cock. The girl fought on, her hands clawing desperately now at his forearm to try to ease the pressure on her windpipe, her hips bucking back and forth to try to use her body weight and strength to get free. But it was useless. She was on her knees now, still held back against his body but the struggle gone from her, her body slumped and seemingly lifeless, unconsciousness enveloping her and rendering her unknowing and defenceless, completely at his mercy. Sadly for her though, Kline was not a man that recognised the word ‘Mercy’ and she could expect from him nothing – except acute suffering and pain.
***
The moment she was unconscious, Kline lifted and carried her, down into the cellar and then on through the tunnel to the other house, ‘The Refuge’. There he tied and gagged her then locked her in a cellar room before returning for her papers and folders. Hurriedly he removed all trace of her being there, collected his mobile phone and went back down into the tunnel, sealed the secret entrance and hurried through to the waiting pretty slut. He had, he estimated, around three hours before her company would raise the alarm and report to the police. Once that was done and his address and name given, all hell would break loose and they would descend on him like flies to a lump of shit. He had time to secure her fully, to return to Case House, deal with the inevitable search and then, be left in peace to dally with the first acquisition to his collection.
Kline lifted her, carried her through to his second playroom and laid her out on the low wooden bench. He paused to feel her tits through her blouse and bra, marvelling in the sense of thrill it gave him as the unconscious girl didn’t even stir as he groped her. Unable to resist, he slipped a hand up her short skirt, stroked at the soft, warm upper thighs, the taut mound of her pussy through her panty gusset and felt thudding throbs in his cock and balls in response to the touching. How he would have loved to continue to feel her, but time was against him – for the moment at least. Using stout and soft hemp rope he bound her down on the bench, for now just looping the ropes around her ankles and the bench and then two more, one around her middle and the third around her upper arms and shoulders to hold her securely to the bench. He checked her gag and then, with his cock throbbing fit to explode, left her whilst he dealt with the necessary visit that would surely soon come.
Back in Case House, Kline was reading on the side lawn, sitting in a deck chair and sunning himself. He didn’t flinch at the squeal of tyres as the police cars raced up the driveway, nor did he stir from his relaxation as the many policemen hammered loudly on the front door and then moved around the outside of his house when no answer was gained. Kline answered their questions easily, confirming that he indeed had an appointment with the young lady but – she had failed to keep it. Could they search his house? Certainly, he had answered them, for he had nothing to hide.
Two hours later and the search completed, he bid the scowling and embarrassed policemen farewell, closed the door of Case House and laughed out loud. For several minutes he enjoyed his mirth, then he fell silent, his expression set and serious. At last, he could now get to grips with the dirty little teaser in the basement next door.
***
He was hooded and wearing a leather mask that covered his entire head and face with only holes for his eyes and a slit for his mouth, of black shiny leather the mask gave him a most sinister and threatening appearance. Kline was naked apart from the hood and his cock sticking up and out in hard erection to fully portray his high state of sexual arousal. He stood silently in the dank basement room watching her, his chest rising and falling with his laboured breathing and his balls so full and heavy they throbbed a dull ache of need. Gripped in his right hand was a long and thick leather whip, about three feet in length and of one thickness overall, it was plaited of several strands of leather, a relic of Cromwell’s bloody reign.
The girl was fully conscious now and struggling frantically at her bonds, her entire body writhing and wriggling as she squirmed to try to break free of the ropes holding her. Wildly she wrenched and pulled with her legs but the restraining ropes were simply too securely tied to allow her more than a fraction of movement. Despite the firmness of the unrelenting ropes pinning her to the bench she continued her futile escape attempts.
He waited, patiently and excitedly for her to calm a little and to fully absorb his words once he was ready to speak, he knew from experience it was useless to try to talk reason when the sluts were gripped with fear. Gradually as she tired and as her struggles became less violent, he stepped forward, towering over her and looking down on the wonderful sight of the bound and helpless blonde bitch. Her skirt had ridden back up her thighs, showing marvellously the long and slender limbs, up almost to her crotch that remained just tantalisingly hidden from view by the short hem. Her chest was pushed up, mostly by the arch in her body created by her bound hands beneath her back, pushing her ample mounds even harder up against the thin material of her white blouse. Those sights, combined with her wide-eyed stare of utter fear, gave him a charge like no other and sent his cock into a series of jerking spasms of delight.
“Listen well, bitch,” he finally said, his voice low and threatening and husky with pumping excitement. “I will now give you instructions, fail to heed them to the letter and you will suffer much. Is that clear?”
It wasn’t. Either she didn’t comprehend or didn’t wish to, either way, she gave no acknowledgement.
Kline lifted his arm, held the leather whip above his head for a moment or two and then swung down hard, laying a brutal stripe of the heavy whip across the front tops of both her thighs at the same time. A most satisfying surge bolted through his cock and balls as the slut’s body locked in pained reaction, her upper body lifted against the ropes and then she went into a fit of uncontrollable shuddering as the wild agony ripped through her. Even through the gag her screams were loud enough to reverberate around the dungeon walls and then he whipped her again, lashing her thighs once more and this time even closer to her pussy mound. Christ! Did that have the slut writhing and screaming! Again Kline waited, his cock pulsing so much that a blob of pre-cum oozed from the eyehole of his cock. “Are you willing to listen to me now?” he crowed and lifted the whip threateningly. It pleased him greatly when she nodded her head so rapidly that it looked most comical to him to see her desperation to assure him.
“Good,” he said with satisfaction. “In a moment I will release you. The door is locked and there is no way out for you. Behave and do as I say and all will be well, be difficult and I will whip you again. Understood?”
This time she nodded her head equally frantically, her pleading eyes searching his face to ensure that he had registered her willingness to comply. That pleased him also, increased his sense of command and sent his level of arousal moving up a notch or two. He reached down with his left hand and undid one of the knots, he held the whip ready in his right as in turn he released each rope, pulled them away and then ordered her to get to her feet. He watched as the slim girl, her wrists still bound together behind her back and the gag pulling hard back into her mouth, struggled but finally complied, sat upright on the bench and then got to her feet.
“So far, so good,” he said as a low growl and then undid the knot of the gag and wrenched the sodden cloth from her mouth. Her whimpering and sobbing was a sufferance but actually it did add to his pleasure a little and in that he bore it. Kline undid her hands and freed her completely and then sniggered as the weeping bitch backed fearfully away from him to cower back in a corner of the dungeon. “Come back here and stand still,” he commanded her and pointed to a spot on the floor before him. He felt his cock rear as she looked at him, her gaze dropped to his twitching erect cock and she choked back a sob and cuddled herself further back into the corner.
“You want to be difficult, eh?” He took a step toward her, his arm raised and the whip high above his shoulder.
“Nooo!” she screamed and flinched, ducked her head and steeled herself for the lash of the whip to bite at her body and, she didn’t have to wait long. The red-hot pain seared through her outer thigh as the heavy blow cracked across her leg just below the hip, deadening the limb and branding her at the same time with white hot spears of raw burning agony. Her leg buckled under her and she dropped down onto one knee, both her hands clamped over the affected area and screaming like a cat dropped in boiling oil. He hit her again, across the upper back and shoulder as she bent to soothe her thigh and instantly, the moment the heavy blow cracked across her body, she flung back against the fall and sunk down into a blubbering heap, her body wracked by great heaving sobs of misery.
“Will you obey my commands now? You dirty teasing whore.”
The girl whimpered and nodded her head, slowly she lifted her head to look up at him with water-filled eyes and a pained expression etched on her face. “Yes,” she said, almost as a whisper.
“On your feet then, you filthy slut and remove your jacket –fast!”
Although she moved, it wasn’t fast enough for Kline and he whipped her other thigh, hard and spitefully to draw a tailing scream of agony from her and to drop her to the floor like a sack of potatoes. “Faster! Move when I tell you to!” he yelled angrily.
This time the bitch was on her feet in a second and pulling off her light jacket at the same time, cowering and flinching in fear of him and her horrified gaze not at the whip he held, but at the rearing stiff cock he possessed. She threw the jacket aside and stood before him, her head down and her hands by her sides.
“Now the blouse, take it off.”
“What?” she began to question and then screamed loudly as the heavy whip slapped across the outside of her left arm, the blow so forceful that she was sent staggering a couple of steps to the side. After a couple of screeches her right hand went to the neck of her blouse and, shaking almost uncontrollably, she began unbuttoning it down the front.
“Nice tits,” Kline muttered as her blouse parted and her firm cleavage was displayed to him. “Take the blouse of completely – and then your bra.”
“Oh please… Please…” she sobbed and then drew breath and stepped back as he lifted his arm to wield the whip. “No, Please, I’ll do it.”
He felt a thudding gripping in his cock. “I know you will, bitch,” He chuckled, “for to disobey me will bring you much pain. Now do it - and be quick about it.”
More gripping spasms jerked through his stiff cock as she unclipped the bra and pulled the little harness away, baring her lovely firm tits to stick out from her chest in utter teasing temptation. He ogled the swelling naked orbs as the bitch girl stood shamed and with her head down, sobbing in her humiliation and literally wilting under his scrutinising stare. “Mmmm, not such a confident and brash little tart now are you?”
She didn’t reply.
Whack! He swiped her other outer arm with the whip to set her yelling and wailing in pain again.
“Are you?” he repeated as a demand for a reply.
“No!” she shouted back. “No, I’m not!” Then the girl dissolved into a fit of heavy weeping and sobbing that shook her body and jiggled her naked tits most delightfully.
“Now the skirt and panties, get them both off.”
He watched her, his sense of thrill and pounding excitement increasing with each moment that passed as she undid the waistband of her little skirt and dropped it down around her ankles. Her panties were white and tight, hugging her lovely body marvellously and pulling in on all the right places to show clearly every sensual contour of her youthful shape. His cock reared at the sight and then pulsed in gripping throbs as she slipped her panties down to her knees, baring the fuzz of blonde hair covering her pussy and then down to her ankles to step delicately out of them. She was naked now, all but her shoes and hold-up stockings, those he liked and allowed them to remain on her as the last vestige of her modesty and, as decoration to her otherwise pale if shapely form.
“Good,” he stated firmly his pleasure at her compliance. “Now, you dirty little slut, you will get down on your hands and knees and crawl, like the bitch that you are, out into the other room and, you will do so quickly.” Again, and whilst she complied fairly speedily, it wasn’t fast enough for him. As the girl got down onto all fours he slapped the whip hard across her creamy bare buttocks, lashing her with a cruel swipe that slapped hard and immediately raised a wide red welt on her pale skin. She screeched wildly at the pain but retained her doggy position on her hands and knees. “Crawl!” he snapped and whipped her bare arse again. Kline’s cock reared and jerked as the sobbing, naked bitch scurried fearfully across the hard, cold flagstones of the dungeon floor, like a little scared puppy, out of the door and into the adjoining dungeon room. And there she halted, stunned and staring, quite unable to believe the sight that greeted her and frozen in horror at the implications the various apparatus held for her.
“Nooooooooooooo!” she wailed in a pained and tailing scream that was so loud that it hurt his ears and the girl received another hard whack of the whip across her presented buttocks to make her scream out louder still, this time though in acute pain.
It was fitted out like a torture chamber, heavy oak beams, structured and formed into crosses, heavy frameworks, stretching racks and more, each with heavy chains or straps attached to them and, more sinisterly still, hot glowing braziers of burning coals cast a red and terrifying glow over the whole scene.
“Stand, bitch!” he snapped and whipped her arse so hard that the girl not only screamed but was pitched forward onto her face by the force of the blow to lay face down on the cold floor sobbing and wailing. “Stand!” he repeated as a threatening snarl and lashed her across the middle back to cause her slim, naked body to bow up as the hot pain bit at her flesh and to send her into another fit of wriggling and wailing that fully displayed her suffering. She did though; scramble to her feet and stood, shaking and weeping as he silently ogled her in her nakedness.
“You will go over to the framework,” and he pointed with the whip, “on my right and turn your back against it.”
The terrified girl looked briefly over to the horrid-looking timber framework and then back to him and shook her head slowly in denial that he could expect her to do such.
For her hesitation and refusal he launched a ferocious assault on her, one born of utter rage and thrill mixed, his arm swinging in hard and fast to land a series of stinging blows of the whip all about her naked body, forehand and back-hand swipes he used, overhead and blows that came in horizontally, raining down cutting lashes of the whip to differing parts of her nakedness. His cock jerked and reared in excitement as he beat her, his full ball-sac throbbed with a dull ache and his anus gripping in delighted spasm with each smack of leather on her skin that landed. Within moments she was beaten to her knees and then to pitch sideways, rolling around on the floor, her legs paddling and arms flailing as she screeched the wail of a demented demon in pain. For several minutes more he thrashed her savagely and then, his chest heaving and his breathing laboured, paused in his beating of her to look down on the pathetic curled up form of the weeping girl.
“Will you obey me now, bitch? Or do you want some more?”
Painfully and obviously with difficulty, the sobbing girl rolled onto her side, then up onto her hands and knees and then finally stood up. With her head hanging down in shame and defeat, she walked slowly and a little unsteadily over to the heavy framework, turned and presented her back to it.
The chosen framework was a rectangle, consisting of two heavy horizontal cross beams, one above her head and one just behind her feet, supported at both ends by equally thick and strong uprights. One more horizontal bean stretched across the middle, at the height of the middle of her back and which pressed against her back to push her hips and chest out fully accessible. On the bottom beam thick leather ankle straps were riveted to the beam and above her head, short and stout chains attached to two wide metal wrist cuffs, it was into these that Kline strapped her, pulling her legs wide apart as he strapped her ankles back and then pulling her arms up and wide to clamp her wrists into the chain cuffs. Around her waist he lopped and buckled the thick leather belt, riveted also to the central cross beam, it held her middle fast and added to the pull that arched her back slightly and forced her hips forward to present her pussy mound most marvellously.
Finally he had her naked and strapped back, her lovely tits pushed out in offering, the pert little nipples, pinkish more than brown and so tender and sweet looking. His loved the way the stretch of her legs pulled her slim thighs apart, clearly defining the glorious shape of them as they tapered up to her now gaping and stretched pussy lips. Kline was ready now to have his fun, he moved in close, to stand between her parted thighs and rested the head of his stiff and pulsing cock against her lower belly, uttering a low groan of appreciation as the warm, soft feel of her body radiated through his entire cock.
“What do you want with me?” she snivelled and that comment drew from him a roar of laughter that continued for several moments an then he halted abruptly, brought his masked face close to hers, just an inch away from her and snarled, “Why your pussy, of course, you stupid tart, your arse and your tits and that succulent mouth of yours. You are going to serve me with your body and mind and..”, he pulled back his face but kept his cock head against her warm belly and shifted his hips to rub it up and down a little. “… Provide for the needs of this – my cock.”
He laughed again as she whimpered and then burst out sobbing and wailing again. Did he care? Not a hoot, the bitch was for fucking and he would see that she got it too! Kline pulled away, moved over to the side of the chamber and selected several items from the small antique cabinet set back and up on the wall. His cock reared up as he turned to walk back to her and was delighted by the high-pitch scream that she gave when she saw what he was holding.