Fifty-two year old Thomas Vogelbach woke at dawn. By lunchtime he accomplished a load of laundry, checked in with a business partner and had raped Alexa Shard twice.
It was routine for Thomas to keep his captive strung up in sadistically uncomfortable ways in between their daily rape sessions. After all the post grad with the strawberry blonde hair looked utterly fantastic in all manner of sexual restraint. The humiliation the helpless girl experienced during these lulls in the abuse of her naked body also motivated Alexa to ‘go the extra mile’ in pleasing Mr. Vogelbach in bed. Or upon an ‘A’-frame. Or bent forward over the back of a sofa.
Up in the attic.
It was common for Alexa to watch with her gorgeous green eyes her kidnapper adjusting, refining and perfecting the sound-proofing measures of the room she was being held in. That and the ongoing security measures Vogelbach would employ to maintain Alexa in a state of abject sex slavery. Upstairs within his secluded suburban home.
Vogelbach was becoming a master at balancing things like laundry, business contacts and attic restoration with the seemingly constant rapes of Alexa’s bound body. His lair was definitely at a point where his victim could scream in pain amidst an assault…with little to fear from any Samaritan interloper interfering with the ongoing AND essential punishment of Alexa. It had been a thoroughly positive experience dominating the worthless whore these past several weeks.
Inside the attic.
This freedom to torture Alexa both mentally and physically allowed the sadist to rape his young victim in ways that accentuated specific portions of her fine body. Meaning that utilizing a missionary position allowed Vogelbach to concentrate on caressing with his hands the sultry length of Alexa’s legs even as he pounded at her vagina with his cock. Or raping her from behind once she’d been strung up by her wrists at the ‘A’-frame…allowing for long, agonizing ordeals involving Alexa having her breasts groped, kneaded and mauled. Not to mention the anal punishment Thomas applied to his whimpering marionette via the use of her long hair as a set of control reigns. Over and over again,
Until - to Ms. Shard - the rapes evolved into a ruinous routine. But which to T. Vogelbach were lasting hours of the sublime. Of complete contentment with the property he now owned and would never set free.
The afternoon and evening trials of Alexa were especially demeaning. With her own body sapped of strength and dignity…and Vogelbach tapping into some reservoir of cruelty that allowed these latter day attacks to be particularly painful. How the ropes would splay her sexy legs apart and the manacles draw her wrists and arms towards the cleat in the floor. So that Vogelbach could slam his erection deep inside Alexa’s withered vagina from behind whenever her body was positioned over the back of the attic sofa. Or inside the stand-up shower wherein the master of the house forced Alexa’s anus onto the spike of his cock for desperately long occasions of agony beneath a stream of hot water that seemed to drain away the young girl’s hope. The stand-up shower was not yet sound proof. And poor Alexa detested (and was deathly frightened of) the thick, invasive dildo gags Vogelbach would force between her lips for the duration of these wet, shameful anal rape games.
So routine. So sublime.
Thomas Vogelback turned fifty-three. And would awake at dawn thinking that THIS might be the day he ‘added’ a little something-something to Alexa Shard. Perhaps that exquisite piece of ass from the grocery? Perhaps another foray to pin down and locate that brunette coed who liked to show herself off in boots? Maybe even a sortie to procure Jaimee Horvath? That would be sublime! A little something-something to initially supplement his routine use of Alexa Shard’s worthless body. A little plaything to eventually replace her.
Up in the attic.
