The Mayor's Daughter: Draft Pony (4 page)

Standing up
to straddle her body, Jessica watched her captor reach up to grab a rope that
dangled down from the rafters above. On her back, she tugged at the ropes
that bound her, fighting with all her might against them as she struggled to
unbend her knees or wiggle free of the ropes that pinned her forearms together
beneath them. Looking down over her body, she saw her breasts heaving
beneath her damp top, the tight rope digging into her smooth belly with each
tug on the ropes on her arms beneath her. Her thighs trembled from the exertion
of fighting the ropes that coiled about them. Her skirt had ridden up with the
struggle, revealing the wet stain on the front of her panties beneath and the
wire that protruded from them.

“I didn’t
think you’d mind piñata duty, really,” he spoke, reaching down to turn her
over onto her stomach again, and then tapping one of the staples that held a
paper tail in place, making her wince. “After all, you are already in
costume.”

A feeling of
hollowness filled her as she rested once more on her stomach, her cheek back in
the puddle of drool she’d left on the floor earlier. Her feet twitched in
nervous anticipation of what was in store for her. She tried to focus on
the rage that she felt toward her captor, toward this man sworn to uphold the
public safety who was now treating her so wickedly. The anger refused to
stay with her, however, leaving in its place a feeling of helplessness and
self-pity. She hated the feeling, having always considered herself a
person who would never give in to despair. It seemed that the ropes were
robbing her of more than just the ability to move as she wished.

“Eeesshhhhh….
Ehhhttt… Eeehhhh…. Oohhhh…” she struggled to speak around the thick rubber ball
in her mouth, wanting more than anything to be able to plead for his mercy as
she felt him tie the end of the rope in his hand to those that held her elbows
together.

“I’m
sorry. I couldn’t quite make that out,” he laughed.

Jessica began
to sob once more, dejected, as she felt the rope on her arms gradually begin to
lift up toward the ceiling. At first, it was only uncomfortable to have
them lifted, but when her chest rose off the floor and the weight of her upper
body came to rest on her shoulders through the poorly designed rope harness, discomfort
became genuine pain. She snorted through her nose in protest, a muffled
cry escaping her lips as she continued to rise until her knees left the floor. Gradually,
her whole body dangled by the rope on her arms.

“This is
where things really start to hurt, princess,” the black-clad man said
softly as he tied off the other end of the rope with which he’d lifted her,
stopping her assent at his chest level. “This is where you really earn me my
money.”

The ropes bit
painfully into Jessica’s stomach and arms as she dangled there before her
captor, spinning slowly. She could feel the numbness spreading through her
forearms as circulation was cut off by the unbearable position. She whined
continuously behind the gag, squeezing her eyes closed tightly as tears and
drool spilled to the floor beneath her.

A searing
flash of pain flashed across her left thigh and she threw her head back in a
primal scream as something lashed wickedly across it. Recovering from the
attack with desperate breaths drawn through wide nostrils, she spun slowly
until she could see that her captor now held a long thin rod in his
hands. Her whole body tensed in anticipation, but there was nothing she
could do to avoid the next blow, a cruel slash across her tortured upper
arm. Dangling, already in pain from the pressure on her petite body, she
could do nothing to stop the barrage of lashes that he rained down on
her. Only those parts of her body covered by the maddening ropes were
saved from the assault of the wicked rod. She jerked and quivered with each
brutal strike.

“Shit,” he
swore, and she moaned in relief as he lowered the rod, “out of film.”

Jessica’s
body convulsed as she dangled from the ropes, gasping and panting for air as she
struggled to calm herself. It felt like every square inch of her bare
flash was on fire under the cruel attentions of the wicked rod. She stared
at the floor, quivering uncontrollably. She watched the drool collect beneath
her and listened to the sounds of her own labored breathing. She was
almost grateful that she couldn’t feel her arms anymore, but at the same time
she was terrified about what the lack of feeling could mean.  

“The birthday
celebration is almost over, princess.” The return of her captor to her
side made her jump in the ropes in surprise, and she trembled fearfully. “No
more party games. Now it’s just time for some cake and ice cream before
bed time.”

Jessica
groaned from somewhere deep inside her, sputtering as she tried to beg him to
let her down, but her lips could not form the words. She saw that he held
a long red tapered candle in one hand, and a lighter in the other. He lit the
candle, holding the flickering flame only a few inches from her face as she
tried to shy away from it.

“Unfortunately,
I didn’t remember the cake either. God, you must be so disappointed in
me. But I did remember to bring a birthday candle.”

She winced as
he grabbed hold of her hair and drew her face closer to the flame. She could
feel its heat on her cheek and she squeezed her eyes shut as she whined. Laughing
cruelly, he moved the candle away and then pulled her head down, causing her to
tip forward slightly as she dangled. She screamed into the gag as she
suddenly felt a burning pain on the back of her neck, the shock rushing down
along her spine. For a moment, she thought that he had burned her directly
with the candle, but as the wax gradually cooled and hardened against the skin
on the back of her neck, she recognized it for what it was. She jerked
against the ropes as the searing pain returned, this time a trail of it down
her trembling upper arm.  

“Hurts like a
bitch, doesn’t it, princess?” he hissed, and she screamed again as more of
the scorching wax fell on the small of her back, dripping down over the bare
sides of her stomach. “I wonder if those cute little feet of yours are very
sensitive.”

Trembling in
pain and fear, she felt him take hold of her left foot. He forced his
finger between the bottom of her foot and the sole of the sandal, creating a gap. Whimpering
in anticipation of what was to come, she tried desperately to pull her trapped
foot away from his iron grip. Throwing her head back, she screamed as hot
wax dripped down onto the tender arch of her sole, searing the vulnerable flesh
and dripping over and between her toes. When he released her foot, she
rotated it as much as her bonds allowed, trying to find comfort by rubbing it
against her other foot as well as she could.

Moving behind
her while she struggled for relief, he stepped in between her legs, forcing
them to remain open. Recognizing this change in position, she tried to
close them but her knees were stopped by his hips. He placed his free hand
on her quivering left thigh to hold her in place. A flash of white pain
crossed her vision as the wax dripped down onto the soft inside of her left
thigh. She bucked wildly in the ropes as it spread out before hardening,
its inner core remaining hot while the cooled outside held it in
place.  Before she could recover from pain to her left thigh, he
dripped more down onto her right, and she screamed and bucked against the
ropes.

“God, I don’t
think you have any idea how hard you are making me right now,” her captor
hissed as he held tight to her thigh while her body convulsed in pain, “and
just think, princess, I don’t even have your clothes off yet.”

Recovering
slowly from the assault of the wax, his words sunk into her. The ‘yet’ struck especially
close to her heart. In her state of helplessness, it hadn’t really
occurred to her that she was still wearing all of the clothing that she had
been wearing when she left home earlier in the evening. How much worse
would this torment have been if he’d stripped her first? Would he continue
these cruel tortures for as long as she was here, and later in the
nude? Was he going to rape her? The answer to the last question
seemed glaringly obvious to her, bringing new tears to her eyes as she hung
helplessly.

She groaned
as she heard him walk away, shuddering in her bonds. Her head hung down as
she tried to ignore the pain that consumed her senses, the acute pains of the
lashing and candle wax blending with the ongoing agony of the suspension. She
fantasized about a SWAT team breaking down the door and her captor dying in a
hail of gunfire before they cut her free, but had no real hope that it would
come to be. Who better, she realized, than a police officer to know
exactly how to get away with a crime?  But still she clung to the
slim hope of rescue, telling herself that she only needed to hold on until help
arrived.

Jessica’s
fantasy of rescue was interrupted by something new being rolled underneath
her. She watched, nearly delirious from strain on her body, as a large
circular washbasin came to a stop beneath her. A chill ran down her spine
when she saw that it was filled not only with water, but also with ice. Trembling
anew in her bonds, shuddering sobs racked her body. She was surprised to
feel her captor’s hands on the back of her head, releasing the straps that held
the ball in her mouth. She nearly gagged as he pulled it free from behind
her teeth, her jaw cramping at the sudden release of pressure.

“Oh god… Oh
god… please, just untie me… let me down,” she sobbed, the words rushing from
her mouth in a cascade of misery.  “It hurts… it hurts so bad…”

“Shh… Shh…” he
whispered consolingly. “I promised you ice cream, didn’t I? I’m sorry
that you’ll have to forgive me the horrible pun.”

“Don’t do
this… please, I can’t… I can’t take any more.”

“Yes you can,
because you’re a big girl now, aren’t you, princess?” he spoke softly into
her ear, his hands running through her matted hair, “and this is the last
set of pictures for daddy dearest.”

“But please…
it hurts… it hurts too—” Jessica’s words were cut off as her captor cut the
rope and she plummeted with a scream into the waiting pool of water.

The icy water
struck her hard, knocking the wind from her lungs. Its cold embrace seized
her as she plunged beneath the surface, kicking out wildly with her bound legs
as she hit the bottom. She fought frantically against the ropes as she
struggled to reach the surface again, finally managing to get her legs
underneath her and rise up on her knees. The water level stopped just
below her breasts as she strained to get as much of her body as possible above
its surface.

“Cold… Fuck…
c-c-cold… God, I’m… get me out!” she cried out as she broke the surface,
her teeth chattering behind already blue lips as the shivers gripped her.

“Let’s get
you cleaned up a little first, princess.”

She struggled
with the wet ropes, shivering uncontrollably, as he reached into the icy water
and ran his hands over her body. As he groped and fondled her beneath the
surface of the water, she felt him break away the dried wax that coated the
insides of her thighs, her back, and the bottom of her foot. She winced,
though barely felt it, as he plucked the staples and soggy paper tails from her
ass. His hands were between her legs again and she felt a tug on the cord
to the vibrator as he slowly drew it out of her shuddering body. She gasped
when he moved one hand to each side of her neck and began to tip her backwards.

“No!  D-don’t!”
she screamed.

Ignoring her
pleas, he dunked her head backwards and she thrashed desperately in the
water. He held her beneath the surface, the cold seemingly amplified a
hundred-fold, while he rubbed the wax from the back of her neck and then ran
his fingers through her hair again. When he finished, he lifted her up in
his arms and fully out of the icy water. She gasped for air, panting in
short breaths as she left the cold water behind. She pressed in close to
him as he cradled her in his arms, carrying her as if she weighed nothing,
desperate for the warmth that his body provided.

“I hope that
your daddy finds those pictures convincing enough, princess,” he whispered in
her ear, pulling off his ski mask as he carried her across the room.

“He… he will…
he will…” she whimpered, blue lips still quivering.

“You’d better
hope so. The next photo shoot will be far less pleasant for you.”

Jessica
sobbed as he carried her to and placed her down on the metal cot. There
was no mattress on it and she was placed directly on its rusty springs. They
creaked under her body as she settled into them. Lying on her back, she
felt the little metal springs pinch the flesh of her upper arms as her captor
moved her to where he wanted her. She groaned in relief as she watched him
begin to untie the rope that circled her right thigh and ankle.

“Please… I’m
so cold,” she whimpered.

“We’ll get
you dried off in just a little bit, princess, and out of these wet clothes.”

Desperate as
she was for warmth, she was terrified by the thought of losing her
clothing. She could see the imprints of the rope in the flesh of her thigh
as he finished untying it and then stretched out her leg on the cot. His
hands moved to the straps of her sandal, up close to her knee, untying them and
slipping the straps of the sandal from her foot. She watched as he tossed
the sandal into the bucket next to the bed, straps flying wildly like streamers
until it disappeared out of sight.