The following extract is from my novel "Her Prisoner - A Twist of Sadism" written and published a couple of years ago. Itâ€™s purely fiction/fantasy. It could never really happen. Probably... It all started for Mike as a mildly kinky game with his friend Jenny. It took him completely by surprise to find that her sexual tastes were far more extreme than he could possibly have imagined, but even then he had no idea just what was happening. As Jenny departed for a week and her friend Eileen was left in charge, Mike was subjected to ever increasingly sadistic torment, with no sexual release for him! Eileen's devious ingenuity meant that there was no chance of escape for him even when she left him to go to work. The arrival of Eileen's mother produced yet another twist, and quite a different problem for the unfortunate Mike In this extract, Mike has been left tied to Eileen's bed. Eileen's mother has just come in with no idea that he's thereâ€¦ smplace.com/premiumdownload?smplace.com/premiumdownload?smplace.com/premiumdownload?smplace.com/premiumdownload?smplace.com/premiumdownload?smplace.com/premiumdownload? The bedroom door burst open. â€œEileen, youâ€™re not still in bed...?â€ She broke off as she saw him, and for a moment, even this strong, forceful, self-assured woman was lost for words. â€œOh.â€ She stared, her eyes fixed on Mikeâ€™s manhood that, despite his embarrassment, pointed towards the ceiling as firm and rigid as a ramrod. â€œOh,â€ she said again after a few seconds, her eyes now sweeping around the room to make sure her daughter was not lurking in a corner. â€œYou must be a friend of Eileenâ€™s?â€ â€œNot exactly...â€ he stuttered. Eileenâ€™s mother raised her eyebrows. â€œShe often ties strangers to her bed?â€ â€œI was a friend of Jennyâ€™s,â€ Mike tried to explain. â€œAnd now Eileen wonâ€™t let me go.â€ He knew it sounded ridiculous, and it was quite evident that Eileenâ€™s mother thought so too. She took a step into the room and closed the door behind her. â€œYou seem to be enjoying it.â€ She gestured in the general direction of his hardness, her eyes focusing on it once more. â€œI canâ€™t help it,â€ his voice quavered. â€œIâ€™ve been like this for days.â€ â€œDays! Youâ€™ve been tied to this bed for days? How many days?â€ It was clear she did not believe him. â€œNo, not tied to the bed. Here. A prisoner. And she torments me and wonâ€™t let me...â€ â€œDonâ€™t talk such utter rubbish,â€ she told him. â€œA big strong man like you unable to get away from my feeble little daughter? Complete tosh.â€ â€œJust untie me, please. I need to go...â€ â€œUntie you? Do you seriously think Iâ€™m going to come anywhere near you while youâ€™re quite naked and waving that thing around everywhere. Iâ€™m most certainly not. Iâ€™m quite sure you can free yourself if you make a little effort.â€ â€œI canâ€™t. I really canâ€™t,â€ he begged. â€œPlease...â€ â€œOh you hopeless little pervert,â€ she stormed angrily. â€œLet me have a look.â€ She strode over to the top of the bed and bent down to examine the leather cuffs holding his wrists. â€œTheyâ€™re locked,â€ she said. â€œI canâ€™t just undo them.â€ â€œBreak them off or something,â€ he moaned. â€œI have to get out of this.â€ â€œDonâ€™t whine,â€ she told him â€œI canâ€™t stand whining men, and I donâ€™t think Eileen would be very pleased if I started damaging her things. Youâ€™ll just have to stay where you are until she comes back.â€ â€œThere must be something you can do,â€ he insisted, looking up at her ample breasts that strained at her blouse not too far from his head as she bent over the straps around his wrists. â€œI need to...â€ â€œI told you not to whine,â€ she said severely, straightening up and adjusting her blouse. â€œAnyway, youâ€™re still enjoying it, I can see that. So donâ€™t you give me any rubbish about being forced to do it. I saw you staring at my breasts.â€ â€œI wasnâ€™t,â€ he said apologetically. â€œYou were,â€ she insisted. â€œWhich is probably why youâ€™re still excited, you dirty little pervert.â€ â€œI really wasnâ€™t,â€ he said weakly, now desperate for her to find a way to release him so that he could go to the bathroom. â€œJust look at it,â€ she retorted sarcastically. â€œIt doesnâ€™t just get that way on its own.â€ As she spoke she bent down to take a closer look, resting one hand on the top of his thigh and the other on the lower part of his stomach. The result was inevitable. Her weight pressed down on her hand right onto his full bladder, and immediately urine squirted from the end of his manhood in a wide spray made wider and fiercer by his throbbing erection. She jumped back, but it was too late. Her face and clothes received the full force of it. â€œYou filthy little beast,â€ she said, wiping her face in disgust. â€œHow dare you do that to me?â€ â€œI couldnâ€™t help it,â€ he muttered, horrified at what had happened. â€œIâ€™m so sorry. You leaned on my stomach and...â€ â€œI couldnâ€™t help it, I couldnâ€™t help it,â€ she mimicked. â€œOf course you could help it. How would you like it if I pissed all over you? Is that why youâ€™re lying on a rubber sheet, because you canâ€™t control yourself? She should have put you in nappies.â€ â€œI said Iâ€™m sorry. I didnâ€™t do it deliberately.â€ â€œIâ€™m absolutely soaked,â€ she complained, holding her blouse between finger and thumb on a part of it that was relatively dry and pulling it away from her skin. â€œUgh.â€ He watched in astonishment as she unbuttoned the blouse and took it off. She threw it at him, and then did the same with her skirt. She stood there, hands on hips, wearing nothing but her large, white underwear. Her knickers came up over her hips, heavily elasticated at the waist and with a reinforced panel at the front and underneath; a plain, wired bra that held her breasts in its two solid hammocks but did little to hide the deep canyon between them. â€œIâ€™ve got a good mind to piss all over you,â€ she said threateningly. â€œJust find a way of getting me out of this,â€ he told her, more than a little angrily. â€œThis is ridiculous. Break the damn locks. Cut the leather. I donâ€™t care. Just do something instead of standing there like a fat idiot in your bra and knickers.â€ As soon as he had said it he regretted it. It was impolite, certainly. In fact it was downright rude and not the way he would have spoken to a woman of her age in any circumstances, however abnormal. More than that, it was downright foolish when he was tied naked, spread-eagled and helpless to a bed and she was standing in her underwear, hands on hips, heavy, strong and fuming with anger less than three feet away from him. Even so, he was quite unprepared for what happened next. A low scream broke from her lips. It was a scream of anger, and it rose in pitch and intensity until the room was filled with noise that rivalled the whistle of the most powerful steam locomotive entering a tunnel. She leapt onto the bed and astride his chest, still screaming. She really was very heavy, and he struggled to breathe as her full weight pressed down on him. â€œIâ€™ll show you,â€ she screamed at him. â€œYou canâ€™t talk to me like that and get away with it.â€ â€œHey, I didnâ€™t mean...â€ but he never finished. He was speechless in disbelief as she leapt to her feet with surprising agility for her size, and wrenched down her knickers before pulling them right off and throwing them to the floor. She stood looking down at him, and then as though she had suddenly made a decision she stepped forward, bent, grasped hold of the wooden frame of the bed behind him and squatted over him. She was only an inch or two above him, her huge, powerful thighs poised threateningly, wide apart as though at any moment they would descend, clamp together and crush his head between them. His eyes were fixed not on those thighs but on the area between them, hovering directly over his face. He could not believe she was doing this, or that she would actually carry out her threat. Then he saw her muscles tense and the first drips of fluid fell on him. He was shaking his head, about to tell her again that he really had not meant to do it to her, opening his mouth to object, to apologise, to say anything that would stop her, and then the deluge hit him. It filled his mouth before he could shut it, making him splutter and cough. It cascaded over his face, into his eyes and ran down into his ears, up his nose, forming a puddle all around his head and shoulders in the indentation in the rubber sheet where he lay. On and on it went, gushing out of her and over him in a flood that seemed as though would never stop. She had her eyes closed, gripping tightly onto the head of the bed and tensing her muscles to force every last drop from her. As the flow slowly subsided, she shook herself to remove the last of the moisture â€“ and lost her grip on the bed frame.