Never Let You Go

The young Dallas Star awoke to find himself tied to a plush, pillow covered, bed with purple satin pillows surrounding him. A female bed. He had been stripped of his shirt. He had been tied, spread eagle on the bed, with his arms bound to the poles of the ends of the backboard of the bed.

Tyler had been kept here against his will for hours, he could tell.

He tossed his head to the side, glancing around the room. He found that he was in a peachy, yellow walled room, shaped like a cube. Flowery wallpaper lined the room, racing across the top and bottom of the walls.

To the side of the bed sat a small dresser with a roll of black duct tape, coils of rope, a ball gag, and some other bondage items that were displayed to his eyes. He didn’t feel a change in his mood and he still felt drowsy from the kidnapping. His eyes continued to scan the room. There were no windows, but there was a bar placed in the corner and a wooden chair in the other corner.

On the other side of the bed, there was a massive closet with various dresses, outfits, suits and men’s shirts inside. A co-gender, shared closet.

Suddenly the only door and exit to the small area creaked open. A small light brown haired woman with hair that ran down to her waist entered. She looked like a hispanic Rapunzel. She flashed him a grin, happily darting forward.

She placed a hand on his chest, before immediately snapping it backward. “No! Not yet! Patience. You have him helpless to your sexual desires!” she snapped to herself, spinning around.

She turned her back on him, causing him to crane his neck to the side. He glared at her ass. It was rather gorgeous and round underneath her beautiful lavender dress that hugged her feminine curves nicely. Tyler was amused by the woman before him. His heart beat rapidly in his chest.

She spun back to him. “You are the second to awake, Seggy Segs!” She told him, in a cute high-pitched voice. “Are you ready to have some fun? I’ve got lots planned! I’m not very good at this whole dominatrix thing, but I can learn!”

She bounced up and down in excitement, her rather large breasts jiggling with the movement. They were barely concealed by the collar of her dress. It made Tyler whimper. She gazed into his eyes, which were focused on her chest.

“Oh!” she squeaked. “All of you men are the same!”

Tyler bit his lip, as the young woman gradually unzipped the dress and shimmied out of it. She kicked it to the side. He stared at her, locked on her two breasts that threatened to burst out of the supportive bra she wore. The woman struck a pose. She had a nice figure, athletic and model-like. Her long hair dangled down, making her all the more appealing to the hockey player.

The Star pulled at the ropes holding his wrists in place. He hadn’t spoken a word. He was deathly afraid, but also deeply in love with the woman before him. He couldn’t place why, but his heart fluttered inside of him and he felt his cheek burn with embarrassment at her. She was a stunning young woman.

“My name’s Arielle Spooner and I love my hockey players trussed up and helpless!” She cooed, breaking her pose finally. She jumped onto the bed and attacked him like a wildcat.

Rhythmic grunts of pain filled the room as Tyler Seguin’s kidnapper named Arielle Spooner repeatedly forced herself on the man. She was all over him, like a mad woman. She kissed him, drawing her tongue inside of his mouth and exploring around the interior. He moaned into her mouth.

Her hands slid up and down his exposed chest and he wondered where his shirt had vanished to. She seemed to read his mind, as she gradually lifted her head away from his. He gazed into her amber eyes. She smiled, sweetly down at him.

“You wanna know what happened to you, right? Your shirt?” She slyly inquired. “After we dragged you all into this place, I wanted into your pants so badly, but I was warned to wait and be patient. To take my time and to enjoy myself. So I did. But I couldn’t help myself, I tore that shit apart, ripping it into shreds, as I bound you to my bed!”

Tyler bit his lip, swallowing hard. She ran her hands into his short, perfect dark brown hair, feeling his locks run smoothly over her fingers. She had always loved his hair, when she watched him.

“That’s ok, Segs, you don’t have to speak. I’ll do the talking. I like it that way anyway!”

She slid her hands down his face, feeling the stubble of where he attempted to grow his playoff beard each year. Since it was the offseason, however, he had it all buzzed and trimmed and he was back to having the young boyish face.

“I like you without the beard much better, even though I’d still fuck you either way!”

“Can you get off of me please?” He finally asked, thrusting upward.

His eyes cleared suddenly. She hadn’t realized that they were glazed before. They shined his inner fears. They were wide open, staring at her. She quickly slid one of her hands across and cupped it over his mouth.

“I’m sorry, I hadn’t realized that you were still recovering from the chloroform, Segsy!” She slapped his cheek with her other hand. Suddenly her voice had deepened in pitch. It became more forceful and demanding. She was in character now.

Tyler muffled an angry cry to her, narrowing his eyebrows in fury. He bucked about madly under her. “You took off my shirt?” He demanded under her hand.

She rolled her eyes and slapped his cheek again. She leaned her head back down to him, brushing her nose against his. A few strands of her brown locks tickled his face. Her peach-orchid perfume filled his senses. “I don’t like fighters, but I like strugglers, so go on and struggle for me Tyler, it turns me on!”

Tyler screamed into her hand again, continuing to thrash about. Her hands held his head still. With the one that wasn’t covering Tyler’s mouth, she reached over to the nightstand at the side and snatched up a black cloth. She removed her hand and jammed it into his mouth. He gagged on the cloth, as she took the ends around his head and tied the material around his face, around the nape of his neck. He tossed his head around, madly, trying to get the cloth out, as he grunted in distress.

Arielle sat up and began to touch herself, sliding her hands over her body in pleasure to his muffled cries of distress. “Yes, moan for me Tyler! You’re so sexy, when you’re in distress and helpless to my desires!”

She glided her hands over her breasts and began to play with them for Tyler’s forced pleasure. But the twenty-two year old hockey players wasn’t much into her anymore. He yanked at the ropes, trying to get away from her. She leaned over and smashed her chest into his head, forcing him to get an upclose view of her chest.

“This is what you wanted, Tyler, wasn’t it?” She spat, shaking her upper body over Tyler’s face.

The young man screamed into the gag, begging her to stop as her breasts swung back and forth in her matching lavender bra, smacking him in the face. He did love the female body and yes, he loved their breasts, but he liked it on his own control. He didn’t like the forced “sex.” He wasn’t into hurting women or being perverted.

Finally she pulled back. Arielle slid backward, to the side of Tyler. She sat down at his waist. He could see her long brown hair dangling off the bed. She really was stunning. But she was dominating and that overtook her beauty.

She tossed her head to the side, making her hair flick back and forth in a precise rhythm. Tucking a few strands behind her ear, she lifted her hand and placed it on top of Tyler’s sweat-soaked, muscular stomach. With each strained breath that the young man took, his body clenched tightly.

She brushed her fingers back and forth, singing softly to him. “I’ll never let you, I’ll never let you go, I’ll never let you go, mmmm…” Her voice was angelic and beautiful, however Tyler saw into the darkness inside of her.

Her fingers grazed his skin, before she slowly dragged them downward, teasing him at the waistline. Her eyes flashed with passion and longing and the corners of her mouth twisted upward. For a small woman, she had a battle between good and bad going on within her mind. It was almost sickening. And the evil was winning each time.

The devil on her shoulder told her to dig in and fuck Tyler Seguin, while the angel told her to be patient and take her sweet time. She did a mixture of both.

Sluggishly, she lifted her other hand to his waist. She moved into a straddling position, bringing her leg over his, so that her face hovered right over his crotch. She brought her hands down farther and in a teasing motion, she touched him. Like rubbing a crystal ball or magic lamp, so she mimicked the motion of her hands, as she made them glide over, feeling his package beneath the denim of his jean pants.

He muffled groans and whimpers to her, unamused by her sudden invasion of his privacy. He glanced up, eyeing her and watching as she licked her lips and wagged her eyebrows at him. He shook his head and muffled, “You’d better not go in my pants!”

She ignored him, sliding her hands back up to his waistline. She was impressed by his package and wanted to reveal it to herself. “Happy birthday to me!” She giggled, as her fingers came to the button and fiddled with the small circular lock to his pants. She undid the zipper next, leisurely bringing it down, making him go nuts. He wriggled back and forth, causing a small noise to escape from her lips.

She was enjoying this. He was not.

She proceeded onward and clutched the material in her hands and yanked it down his legs, to his ankles. Then she yanked his boxers down, until he was naked and exposed to her eyes.

“Perfect Seggy, Segsalicous, Segsy Tyler Seguin!” She whispered as her hands greedily jumped onto him and began to stroke him, gently. He continued to muffle screams and thrust about. “As if you can escape me, my precious Dallas Star!”

She felt him up, running her fingers all over him and making him struggle helplessly. His struggle of desperation only created red marks on his arms, as he pulled frantically at the bonds, holding him in place. This torture lasted for twenty minutes, before she finally stopped.

She slid off suddenly and walked away from the bed, leaving him exposed and gagged with the cloth. She snatched up her camera, which she had brought in with her. She returned, holding it up. She prepared to take a picture of her Dallas hockey player boy toy. “Say, cheese!”

He craned his neck upward, to see what she was doing and gave her the perfect “helpless” image. The whir sound came and a blinding flash followed, as the picture was snapped. She rapidly saw the outcome of her image and giggled with glee. She hopped around the bed to him and stuck the camera down, for him to see.

What Tyler Seguin saw, was a fetish dream and his nightmare. He felt his cheeks flood with warmth and a deep red color. She set the camera back down on the nightstand with the ropes and tapes. Then she jumped back onto the bed and crawled back down to his legs.

She sighed, depressingly and returned his boxers to his waist, concealing him once more. Then she slid his jeans back up, zipping the zipper and buttoning the button back in place. She patted his crotch as if in a thank you gesture and then climbed back to Tyler’s side.

“You’re so perfect, Tyler. Don’t ever change!” And she slowly leaned over, dropping onto her side and nuzzled against him. He gazed upward, his eyes burning with fear and terror. What was she going to do to him next? He was already embarrassed and emasculated by her.

Arielle Spooner may have been sweet on the outside, but inside she was a devil girl, who had only hurt Tyler Seguin.