The List 25: Its Hair is for Being Pulled

Click here to start with Part 1

Previously: The trunk lid slammed close, and she walked around the car to the front. Her purse hit the passenger’s seat with a thump, and she hit the garage door opener as she started the car. They pulled out of the garage, down the drive, and onto the street. She hit play on the CD player and started driving, thinking about what she was going to do next.

She drove around in circles with him in the trunk, flipping the CD player from song to song with short, impatient jabs. Scenarios ran through her mind, vignettes of torture and degradation that she considered and rejected. Finally her eyes narrowed, and she made a U-turn and headed back to their house. She opened the garage door from the street so he wouldn’t hear the noise and drove by, going around the block and pulling slowly into the garage.

The pillow case on his head trapped his breath, turning the skin on his face hot and clammy while his body shivered in the trunk. His cock and balls still burned with the steady chemical heat, and he flexed his shoulders to work out the tension from having his hands chained behind his back. He tried to imagine what might happen next, his cock twitching in spite of the pain still radiating through his body as he imagined being forced to suffer and do horrible things until her hunger was sated on his torture. Of humiliation and degradation that would end when she was done with him, and not before. His head thumped against the back seat as the car came to a stop, and he wiped the sweat off his palms.

She grabbed her purse and slid out of the car, then walked around to the trunk. She pulled the strapon from her purse and balanced on one foot as she fed a leg through the harness, then jerked the straps, cinching them down tight and buckling them in place over her clothes. She found a place on a clean shelf to put her purse, and got out the small pair of scissors she carried. She walked over to the trunk, slid the key in, took a deep breath, and gave it a twist.

He jumped at the sound of the mechanical clunk and shivered as cool air flooded the trunk. “Stay still, I’d hate to cut anything off accidentally.” Her voice came to him through the cloth and he froze in the act of turning his face towards the back of the car. Her hand slid down his face, molding the cloth to his features, going down over his nose and stopping at his lips. The cloth moved away from his face, and then flattened and tore. Metal jaws appeared through the cloth and with small chewing motions tore through until there was a hole in the pillowcase. The scissors disappeared and then he felt the hand back on the top of his head, pulling the pillow case away and cutting another hole in the top.

“Get out.” She tossed the scissors in the trunk and guided his awkward movements over the lip of the trunk and onto the concrete floor. She purred in pleasure as he automatically sank to his knees, both of them gasping as they hit the cold concrete. “Oh, fuck it.” She reached through the hole on the top of the pillow case and grabbed a handful of hair, turning her wrist and wrenching the filaments tight, pulling his scalp away from his skull. “I was going to do a mindfuck, but…” She moaned, trying to remember the elaborate plan. “Tell you the person you gave such bad advice to was here for an apology blowjob, but you know what? I don’t want to share you, I just want to fuck your face.”

She fed the dildo through the hole in the pillow case, pushing it past the slight resistance as the latex tip slid off his cheek and into his mouth. Her hand jerked his hair towards her and his head followed, the dildo filling his mouth, then her hand shoving his head back, dragging it across his lips. Drool ran down his chin as she sawed his head back and forth on the cock, fucking his face, sliding it in until he started to gurgle then jerking it back out.

His muscles slumped every time she pulled on his hair, signs of resistance evaporating under her control. “I could do just about anything to you, as long as I pulled your hair, couldn’t I?” A long gurgle came out of the pillow case, and she nodded back. “Oh yes, you turn into a complete slut when someone pulls on your hair.” She flicked her hand back and forth, jerking his hair one way then the other, to confirm it, and then sighed and tried to keep her hips perfectly still as she worked his mouth up and down her cock. “I could drag you down this street on your knees with my cock in your mouth, and as long as I pulled your hair, you’d be the happiest little slut in town.”

Happy sighs murmured past her lips as she raped his face, making him gag on her cock and dragging spit out of his mouth. She closed her eyes and suddenly stopped, holding his head in place with the cock halfway in his mouth, prying his lips open, disappearing into the white cloth that left him a little less than human. A perfect moment of contentment washed over her, and the tension ran out of her muscles. She stood there silently enjoying it until it washed away, then reluctantly pulled the cock all the way out of his mouth.

“Come on, get up.” She helped him to his feet, and reached around to shut the trunk of the car behind him. She carefully led him into the house, grabbing her purse and shutting the garage door as they walked by. She walked him into the bathroom, and raised an eyebrow, looking at him one last time before raising the pillow case and pulling it off his head. He blinked at the sudden light as she pursed her lips and shrugged. “That’s it, end of the list. What now?”

Preview: The grand finale! Or more of an epilogue really. Maybe some sort of closure? Were they dead the entire time? What a twist that would be!

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

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The List 24: Its Head is for Being Stuffed in a Bag

Click here to start with Part 1

Previously: He moaned and leaned closer to her, and she bit down on his ear playfully. “I can’t believe I let something as disgusting as you near my cunt. As a matter of fact, I think it’s time your head went into the bag.”

He was lying on the floor on his side, breathing hard. His knees slightly pulled up towards his chest, his arms wrapped tight around his chest.

One black boot pushed him over on his back, and she grinned down at him. “Time for your head to go in the bag boy.” She kicked his legs down straight and squatted down beside him. “I’d hate to make it too easy for you though.” A short length of rope wrapped around his ankles, pulling them together and cinching down tight against his skin. “Now, for your motivation. This should get you moving.”

He groaned as her hand started massaging cream into his balls and along his cock. His eyes clamped shut and he shuddered as he felt the muscle cream start to heat up on his cock and balls.

“Come on, head in the bag.”

He opened his eyes and looked around until he saw her, dangling the empty pillowcase between her hands, the opening towards him. He forced himself to roll over onto his stomach, and shoved himself up onto his hands and knees. His body sank and drool ran from his mouth to the carpet as the heat started to pour into his genitals, and he forced himself to inch towards her.

She stepped back as he moved forward, teasing him with the empty bag. “Get your head in the bag and I’ll try to wash some of that off.” She took another step back as he inched forward. “Of course, it sinks into your skin, so the longer you take the less good that will do.” He shoved himself forward with a groan, and she stepped back with a grin.

He dragged himself through the house, his whole body feeling like a massive bruise. Pain and contusions raced from one muscle to another, trying to get his attention. Little bursts of endorphins floated through his consciousness as his tears started to run down his cheeks from the pain of dragging himself across the floor and the burning in his groin.

She led him through the house, breathing a little harder as he dragged himself across the floor, memorizing the flickers of pain that rushed across his face for later. The clenched teeth as he he pushed forward with his knees, the twitch at the corner of his eye as he walked his hands forward one at a time. The way his arms moved and the muscles warping the skin of his biceps.

His head slumped as he stopped moving. He pushed his thighs together against his cock and balls, trying to do anything to stop the burning. Sounds gurgled in his throat as the heat remained, the sudden pressure doing nothing to stop it. He forced himself not to just fall down, spit on his hands, and frantically rub them on his cock. He knew from past experience that it wouldn’t do any good.

She smiled and let him rest for a minute, then made him clicking sounds with her tongue until he looked up at her through tear stained eyes. She jiggled the pillow case in front of him, then took another step backwards.

He made a sniffing sound, trying to stop the snot running out his nose, and forced himself to put one hand forward, then the other, then pull his knees across the floor towards her. He tried to ignore the pain and focus on the three simple, repetitive motions, and not think of anything else.

She led him through the house, forcing him to drag his body along the floor behind her. They wound through the bedroom, out into the living room, across the pantry and into the garage. She could hear him whimper a little as he crossed the metal door threshold and his palms hit the cold concrete. He dragged himself to the back of the car, and she popped the trunk lid on the car.

“Get in, and I’ll put your head in the bag.”

He pushed himself to his knees, and held onto the bumper as he pulled himself to his feet. He hopped around in an awkward circle and sat back, swinging his legs into the trunk and curling up in the enclosed space.

“Good for you.” She moved his hands behind his back, and cuffed one wrist then the other, chaining his hands behind his body. “You’ve managed to convince me to abduct you.” The pillow case finally went over his head, and he sighed in the enclosing darkness. He could feel the tape securing the bottom of the pillow case to his neck, pulling it down tight and sealing him in the darkness.

The trunk lid slammed close, and she walked around the car to the front. Her purse hit the passenger’s seat with a thump, and she hit the garage door opener as she started the car. They pulled out of the garage, down the drive, and onto the street. She hit play on the CD player and started driving, thinking about what she was going to do next.

Preview: Hair is for being pulled. Pulllllllllllllllled.

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

Want to support the author (who is me)? Buy a compilation of some of my favorite stories on this blog for your e-reader at Smashwords or Amazon.