MyPrisoner.com

“In today’s news, another graduate student from the Texas A&M Anthropology Department has gone missing. Twenty-three year-old Louis Sanchez was last seen working late in the anthropology lab on Tuesday night. He did not show up for classes the next day, nor had any of his friends or relatives heard from him. This marks the third disappearance in eight weeks. Authorities are investigating…”

“She’s going to get herself caught,” I sighed, turning off the television. “I guess it’s time.”

Dr. Carla Aquilla was a brilliant anthropologist at A&M. About two months ago she had uncovered the biggest find of her lifetime, a necklace mounted with a rare gem of unknown origin buried in a recently excavated well. Shortly afterward, students began disappearing from the graduate program. While the police hadn’t put it together yet, my research showed that all of the missing students had Dr. Aquilla as their faculty advisor. The students had all disappeared without any trace whatsoever, and my intuition told me she was at least somehow responsible. In addition, Dr. Aquilla’s bank account was growing more quickly than usual. My guess was, she was either performing some kind of ritual sacrifice or was somehow involved in a slave-trading operation, and anyone with either skillset had to be at least worth talking to.

Later that night, I teleported into Dr. Aquilla’s lab. Invisible, I waited around until all the students had left. Dr. Aquilla retired to her office. I watched intently as she unlocked one of her desk drawers and pulled out the necklace artifact. She stared at it for a few minutes, then nodded yes. She appeared to be asking it questions, as if the necklace was her instructor.

I needed to know more, so I walked over to each of the lab’s entrances and locked the doors. A hand-held laser disabled the overhead cameras, just in case they were still recording. Then I walked over to Dr. Aquilla’s office and made myself visible in the doorway.

Dr. Aquilla jumped, startled at my sudden appearance. “W-w-who are you? What do you want?” she stammered.

“Although it’s outside of office hours, I wish to speak with you,” I replied bluntly. “Although I can’t quite prove it, I am quite sure you are, in fact, responsible for this department’s missing students.”

Dr. Aquilla’s eyes widened, confirming my deduction. Feigning defiance, she simply stated, “You didn’t answer my first question.”

“Who am I? That, my dear, is quite the long story. My original birth name was Gaius Julius Caesar Germanicus. I’ve had several names since, but now I simply answer to Imperator. However, my personal history isn’t why I’m here. Let’s talk more about that artifact you’re holding.”

Dr. Aquilla’s demeanor changed suddenly, and she clutched the necklace close to her. “You can’t have the Blood Pendant. I found it. It speaks to me only. It’s mine!” she seethed.

“Speaks to you?” I inquired.

“Yes, the High Priests of the Blood God reside in the Blood Pendant. They are teaching me their magicks.”

“And you’ve been ‘testing’ the spells on your students, most likely for personal financial gain,” I surmised.

Dr. Aquilla didn’t answer. Instead, she began chanting in an ancient tongue.

Suddenly, I felt feverish. “What are you doing!” I demanded.

“I’m boiling your blood inside your body,” she spat. “I’ve mastered the luck spells, and am now learning the more advanced magicks! You’ll soon be dead, and no one will know of my actions!”

Dr. Aquilla apparently didn’t realize that I was far beyond human, nor was she aware of the fact I’d spent the better part of the last two thousand years in Hell, and that her little spell was a minor annoyance by comparison. A swift backhand knocked her to the floor and sent the Blood Pendant flying. Instantly, my body temperature began returning to normal.

I walked over and picked up the Blood Pendant. Holding it for a moment, I listened for any form of communication, but while I could sense the strong power inside, I heard nothing. Apparently Dr. Aquilla was right, she had been chosen as its master, and while she lived, it would only talk to her. Considering my options, I put the Blood Pendant in one of my belt pouches, and then lifted the unconscious Dr. Aquilla over my shoulder.

I teleported us back to my “playroom”. Laying Dr. Aquilla on a table, I removed her clothing and then “dressed” her in an armbinder, ring gag, and stiletto pumps. I then moved her to the floor where I chained each of her ankles to some rings on the floor about four feet apart. Some smelling salts brought her back to the real world, and I let her lay there for a few minutes so she could completely understand her situation.

I lifted her to her feet and enjoyed watching her balance precariously in the high heels with her legs spread. Then, I attached a chain hanging from the ceiling to the iron ring attached to the end of the armbinder. Walking over to the crank on the wall, I tightened the chain, lifting her arms upward until her waist was bent close to a ninety-degree angle. Naturally, Dr. Aquilla complained the whole time, but the pained look in her eyes told me she knew she was at my mercy. Not yet finished, I knotted a piece of rope in her hair, and affixed the other end to the armbinder ring, pulling it tight enough so Dr. Aquilla’s head was pointing forward.

Giving her a few minutes to “enjoy” her position, I took my riding crop off its wall hook and walked over in front of her. “Comfy?” I asked.

She was crying at this point. Such sweet tears…

“Yes, this is a rather unique position, isn’t it, Doctor?” I continued, “I’m sure, however, you see the advantages… for me, anyway. Your mouth, pussy, tits, and ass are all available for use, and they are also fully available for abuse. Of course, it’s more than a little uncomfortable, and will become more so as the hours drag on without you being able to move, but I felt that trading your comfort for a really secure bondage that I wouldn’t have to alter to get access to any part of you was a good exchange.”

To illustrate my point, I circled her, slapping each of her tender parts once with the crop, each strike resulting in a pained squeal.

Motioning to my collection of torture and pleasure instruments, I said, “As for what you can see with your head taut like that, I’ve got many toys for which to play with you, and it takes a long time before my lust is truly sated. However, that’s not the main reason you’re here.”

I began walking around her, admiring the soft curves of her figure. She attempted to follow me with her eyes, which made her ample, pendulous breasts sway underneath her. That’s what I like most about women of Hispanic origins — they are quite frankly, some of the most gorgeous creatures, with their full, round tits and ass, rich black hair, and brazen skin. They also seemed to have more endurance than the types of women I usually dealt with.

“You’re here because I need powerful people, and I believe that in due time, your training with the Blood Pendant will make you strong indeed. However, it’s been my experience that the more power people acquire, the greater the risk of mutiny. That, I cannot allow. Therefore, I’ve designed this system whereby I inject you with a special chemical compound I created followed by a complex series of pleasure and pain sessions. Usually, in five to seven days the subject is completely broken to my will. However, I usually drag it out to ten days just for extra insurance.”

A look of sheer terror spread over Dr. Aquilla’s face and she began fighting her bondage. Watching her magnificent breasts flop around in her useless struggle took significant willpower to hide my delight and maintain my serious composure. After just a few moments, she recognized the futility and settled back down.

“Now that you’ve got that out of your system,” I continued, “let’s begin our first session.”

Taking the Day One syringe gun off the nearby table, I lined up the tip with a vein in her arm and pulled the trigger. Day One’s injection was the most important, because it contained the nanites who would take up residence in her brain, acting as a fail-safe mechanism should she somehow overcome the rest of the treatment. Should the need arise, a specific electromagnetic frequency would fire off specific pain and pleasure receptors in her brain, most likely giving her a stroke. I hoped they wouldn’t be necessary, but after the Red Scare incident, I knew I couldn’t trust anyone completely.

Not to toot my own horn, but the chemicals inside the injection were a work of genius as well. A potent mix of hormones that made her more open to suggestion, as well has heightening the sensitivity of her nervous system almost three hundred percent. Last, but not least, a potent cocktail of slow-release stimulants would keep her awake and fully alert for about sixteen to eighteen hours per injection.

The results were almost instantaneous. I could see her muscles starting to tense as the first wave of stimulants began taking effect. I picked up a sanding block and walked over to her right side. Lightly, I raked the sandpaper over her nipple. The sad whimper told me the sensitivity hormones had already begun to take effect. I dragged the sandpaper up the side of her breast, down the edge of her back, across her buttocks, and down her left side to her other nipple. Her sharp breathing told me she was feeling nearly every grain of sand as it rubbed over her skin.

Satisfied she had fully succumbed to the drugs, I went back to the cabinet and took out a catheter. After inserting it into her urethra, despite her incomprehensible protests, I attached the other end to a small pump. Pumping about 400 mL of distilled water into her bladder, I clamped the end of the catheter, forcing her to hold it. Although the average bladder can hold around 500–600 mL of fluid, the urge to urinate usually happens in the 150–200 mL range. Her knees began buckling as she tried to pee, but the clamp held tight. More tears rolled down her eyes as she tried her best to beg for relief.

I wasn’t anywhere near done, though. Next, I strapped a butterfly vibrator over her thighs, positioning the buzzer right on top of her clitoris. A look of total desperation crossed her face when I turned it on. While I’ve never personally felt the sensation, I’m sure having multiple orgasms with a full bladder can’t be the most pleasant of feelings. After about fifteen minutes of watching her buck and scream, I realized that in the hour she’d been in that position, she hadn’t made me cum yet.

Walking in front of her, I pulled out Little Imperator. Her eyes widened as she got a glimpse of my stiffening shaft. I began rubbing it in her face, then said, “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to fuck your mouth, and you’re going to lick me while I’m doing it. That ring gag will prevent you from foolishly trying to bite me. Once you make me cum, I’ll let you pee. Do you understand?”

She nodded as much as her bindings would allow. Not that it really mattered, since I was going to do it anyway, but her acknowledgment of her situation meant she was one step closer to being mine. Slowly I inserted all twelve inches into her mouth, pausing briefly as she came yet again. Putting one hand on the back of her neck, I began thrusting away at her face while manhandling her tits with the other. Blowjobs where the giver can’t use her lips are not anywhere near as nice, but to her credit, she really worked my shaft with her tongue. Surprisingly, in a mere twenty minutes, I blew my goo down her esophagus.

True to my word, I pulled a bucket over to her legs, inserted the open end of the catheter, and released the clamp. It took a full two minutes for her to finish emptying her bladder, and her body shuddered in relief. I left the butterfly on her clit, and she was still cumming at regular intervals.

I walked back in front of her, put my hand under her chin, and said, “I’m going to leave you like this for another hour or so, and then I’ll be back to fuck your ass and cunt. Congratulations, by the way. You’ve lasted two hours so far. Only two hundred and thirty-eight more to go.”

She shook her head and started crying again, and although I typically enjoy such things, I had work to do. I heard another small scream as she came yet again as I left the room. If I actually had a conscience, I’d have felt sorry for her. We had a long way to go yet, and many positions, floggings, rapings, and injections were in her future. Then, of course, she would have to increase her magickal abilities before my “blood witch” would be any use to me.

I decided to see if anything interesting had made the news, and one story in particular caught my eye:

“More shocking developments from Texas A&M. This time a faculty member, thirty-two year-old Dr. Carla Aquilla, has gone missing. She was last seen by some students closing down the lab Friday evening. Her car was still in the parking lot, but no sign…”

The Beginning…