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--------------------------------------------------------
Copyright by H. Jekyll. Permission is freely granted to 
post on any non-commercial site (meaning a site that 
does not charge for entrance), as long as proper 
attribution is given. The story should not be read by 
anyone under the legal age to read sexually explicit 
stories, or by anyone in a location where it is illegal 
to read such stories. Send comments, inquiries, 
requests, and criticisms to: h_jekyll2000@yahoo.com. 
--------------------------------------------------------

Silent, Chapter Two
by H. Jekyll (h_jekyll2000@yahoo.com)

***

A psychopath targets a mother and daughter for his own 
twisted entertainment. The following story codes refer 
to the series, not an individual chapter: (Mdom/Ff, 
ped, nc, bd, sm, scat, tor) 

***

Chapter Two: The Bathroom. 

Hanging. At some time during the night most of the 
pains from the whipping had diminished but the pain in 
her shoulders and wrists worsened and worsened again so 
that she couldn't sleep. She moved into and out of 
consciousness, her exhaustion playing a game with her 
pain. She had tried to move her shoulders once or 
twice, and the hurt had been so terrible that she just 
hung. 

When she came out of her little unconscious moments she 
heard herself moaning, the only sound she could hear. 
When conscious she moaned louder. At some point her 
toes touched the floor. Something in the ropes or in 
her had stretched, and she took a little pressure off 
her shoulders and wrists, though her calves soon 
cramped up. She was dreadfully thirsty. He mouth was 
dry and saliva had stopped dripping around the ball 
gag. Everything smelled sour. 

He was removing the cap, gag and earplugs. She blinked 
then followed everything he did. She hadn't known he 
was there. Had she slept after all? Yesterday's 
emotional storm was gone with her strength, but he was 
like a dangerous god: she feared him and needed him. 

He untied her feet and she moved her legs together. 
When he loosened the ropes holding up her arms the pain 
from the shift in position of her shoulders was so 
great that she cried aloud and staggered. She slipped, 
which yanked her arms back up, and this hurt so much 
that she blacked out. 

When she awoke she was lying completely untied on a 
small bed, her arms by her sides. She couldn't move her 
shoulders. She wondered where he was, saw him working 
on something, tinkering. What would he do to her now? 
He walked over to her, squatted down with his face two 
inches above hers and said softly: "Now you'll obey me 
completely, won't you? In everything." They were 
statements, not questions. 

She just looked up at him and nodded a tiny nod. Her 
mouth was so dry. She tried to say "water," couldn't at 
first get the word out, then managed to more or less 
croak it. At that he smiled a beautiful, warm smile and 
said, "You're disobeying me already. I told you not to 
talk unless I gave permission. I see I will have to 
punish you again." 

She lay still, her face looking like she was crying, 
but there were no tears. She opened and closed her 
mouth several times, licked her lips, tried to swallow. 

He made her get up. Because she couldn't use her 
shoulders she had to work to roll off the bed and to 
her feet. She felt weak and light-headed, as well as so 
thirsty. Her stomach hurt. He walked her out of the 
gray room, she padding along passively, down a gray 
hall, turned left through a door, and then they were in 
a magnificent bathroom. It was brightly lit, with black 
and teal tiles, and was warm. It had a lovely profusion 
of sinks, a modern toilet, and a sunken bathtub with -- 
she would find -- a Jacuzzi. 

"Now you can drink." He lifted the seat of the toilet 
and gestured toward it. For a moment she did nothing, 
looked at it stupidly, then at him, then at it again, 
as though it were a practical joke and he would soon 
say "joke's over." But it wasn't. "You have to the 
count of ten to get all the water you can lap up, not 
using your hands. After that it's another day before 
you can drink again." 

Her eyes got big, but at the count of "one" she 
streaked to the john. It took her two more counts to 
get her head far enough in, with her shoulders hurting 
so, but she lapped quickly and not expertly, getting 
water up her nose and coughing. It was so good. 

At the count of ten he commanded "stop" but she kept 
drinking, so he grabbed her and slammed her against a 
wall. "That's a second punishment you have coming. We 
will tally them up during the day." There were stars 
meandering about her field of vision. 

He made her sit in what she took for a broad hair 
stylist's chair. She tried to steel herself for what he 
would do to her next, but she never expected what 
happened -- he simply reclined the chair and washed her 
hair, and expertly. His strong hands were very gentle, 
and she noticed that his fingers were smooth, soft 
even. As weak and tired as she was he almost caused her 
to drift out. He used a blow-dryer. Then he took a wash 
rag and gave her a complete sponge bath. Hot soapy 
water, a thorough scrub, then hot clear water. Her body 
was covered with parallel bruises and welts from the 
whipping, so that sometimes this hurt her. 

When he was done with that he got a razor and shaving 
gel. "I'm going to make you beautiful," he told her, 
and began to shave her underarms, her legs, the few 
darks hairs around her nipples, and her muff. It took 
him a long time on the muff, so thick was it, and it 
looked bizarre when he was done. It made her feel more 
naked. Except for being darker and larger her vagina 
looked almost like a little girl's. 

It was at exactly that moment that she realized she had 
not thought of her own little girl since right after 
she had arrived at this dreadful place. She turned her 
head aside and cried for the first time that day, in 
grief at what she now knew her daughter must have 
experienced. She prayed to God to let them both die. 
Alas, the answer was no. 

He suddenly splashed an astringent on his hands and 
rubbed her pussy thoroughly. She grunted and moved her 
hips and legs, though she couldn't bring herself to try 
completely to move away. He next applied baby lotion, 
rubbing it outside and inside her lips, pushing his 
fingers up into her vagina, softly caressing the nub of 
her clitoris. 

She held herself as still as she could; after a few 
minutes she felt a stirring, just for a moment, and she 
couldn't let him know that. He didn't show whether he 
noticed, but told her to stand. He gave her a 
toothbrush and toothpaste and told her to clean her 
mouth. When she was done he made her do it again, and 
brush her poor tongue, the roof of her mouth, and the 
insides of her cheeks. He made her floss. She could use 
her shoulders a little, finally, but the flossing hurt 
them a lot. Then he had her use mouthwash. 

***

"Now you're ready to practice discipline," he said. 
"Your job is to learn to control yourself and to please 
me. Kneel on the floor, head down in your arms, ass in 
the air." She knew he would begin abusing her again, 
now, and that he would be inside of her again. The past 
half hour there had been no real physical cruelty, and 
she had begun thinking that maybe she would be okay if 
she just cooperated with him., and maybe after that 
first rape it would get easier to take. But what did he 
mean by "discipline?" 

She knelt on a luxurious bath mat, head on her arms and 
eyes closed. She was so tired, and so weak, that even 
though her thirst was returning she almost fell asleep 
right there. Then he was playing with her ass, 
caressing it and making light circles around her anus 
with his fingers. She liked it when her husband did 
that; a few times he had pushed a finger up into her, 
which had hurt a little and had excited her. She had 
wondered if he would like to sodomize her, something 
their pastor had been railing about. 

Her captor pushed a lubricated finger well up into her, 
then two, which caused her to utter a little sighing 
gasp. Then his two thumbs, which he twisted back and 
forth, She grunted at this and began trying to tighten 
her anus. It hurt, it hurt! Despite her resolve to be 
silent, she started asking him to slow down. "Please, 
just let me get used to it. I'll do what you want. 
Please, I'll be obedient. I'll help." He rammed three 
fingers into her and she yelled. He pulled away. Then 
he talked to her, as usual very softly. 

"The inside of your ass is as soft as wet chamois 
cloth. I intend to enjoy fucking it frequently, and I 
will teach you how to maximize the enjoyment of the man 
who is fucking you there. You may come to enjoy it 
yourself. Who knows? But that isn't the major 
consideration. We will clean it out thoroughly, because 
it is filthy. Look at this!" 

He held his fingers out to her. They had smudges of 
feces on them, particularly around the nail of his long 
left finger. He continued. "Smell this," and he put his 
fingers up to her face. She could hardly have missed 
that smell of shit. "Now, I am extremely disappointed 
in that outburst you just made. The penalty for all of 
that will be to have a complete repetition of 
yesterday's punishment, on top of your other 
punishments." 

He stopped to let her consider this, and when she did 
she fell over on her side. It would kill her! She 
couldn't do it! She couldn't! He continued: "Or, 
because I am a merciful man, I will forgo that 
punishment, if you will be so kind as to use your sweet 
mouth to clean off my hands, a finger at a time. You 
have to the count of ten to decide. One." 

She sat up on her knees and reached for his right hand, 
the cleaner-looking one. She didn't know if she could 
do this either. She prayed again to be allowed to die. 
She took his right hand, pulled it softly to her mouth, 
and began licking the little finger. It didn't seem to 
have been used on her. "No, suck and lick it with 
authority. Treat it like the sweet little prick on your 
husband." 

She sucked it in deeper and ran her tongue around it. 
In and out. It was salty at first. Then the ring 
finger. In and out. She was a despicable shit herself. 
She did everything this monster told her. She was going 
to do this thing. She hated herself. She was so afraid 
of what he might do, of what he had done and could do 
again. She was putting her lips up to the long finger. 

It looked clean, but it smelt of shit, her shit. Oh you 
coward! She took the whole finger in, and it tasted 
slightly of shit. She wanted it deep because she 
thought the finger tip and nail would have the most 
taste and she wanted them far from her taste buds. But 
he made her take it in and out, and actually the end 
was no worse. 

His index finger had brown on it, a smudge on the side. 
She hesitated, then her fear brought obedience and she 
sucked it in entirely. The shit was strong tasting, her 
tongue pushed at it and it felt gritty. She retched, a 
deep, gut-wrenching gag, and made a sound like 
flatulence in her throat. She held the finger in her 
mouth and tried to control herself and to dilute the 
shit. She heaved again and had to stop for a moment. 
She took the finger in and out, swallowing. 

His voice was beautiful, modulated and deep. He said: 
"This is how I like you best, how you please me the 
most. Working to overcome yourself, trying to be able 
to eat shit for me. Your mouth feels so good when you 
heave. You abase yourself well. It will be very good 
when I fuck your ass and then have you clean all your 
shit off my prick with your sweet mouth. I'm getting 
incredibly hard thinking about it." 

She took the thumb in. In was like the long finger and 
so was easier to suck. She seemed to have control of 
her stomach again. She couldn't tell if she'd gotten 
the finger clean because a miasma of shit hung around 
her mouth. She moved to the little finger of his left 
hand. She was getting close to the long left finger. 
When she got there she heaved again, gained control, 
then did it again. She made guttural sounds when she 
did it. 

She managed to get the finger into her mouth and to get 
the largest part of shit off, then retched again and 
had to hold herself perfectly still for a moment. Her 
eyes were watering. She had shit on her tongue and had 
to swallow, but she couldn't at first. Finally it all 
went down. It was really only a tiny amount. There was 
no more shit after that. 

When he let her up she ran to the toilet and hung over 
it, heaving horribly, but only a little, almost clear, 
mucus came up. She hadn't eaten in a full day, and the 
small amount of water she'd gotten was gone already. He 
said, "I didn't tell you to expel any of the shit. We 
will add that to your tally of disobedience." Limp on 
the porcelain, she cried a dry, moaning cry onto the 
back of one hand. 

***

He made her get up and sit back on her ankles. He would 
use her now that she was completely debased. It was too 
good to waste. There would be time for more later, as 
well, but this would be the best. He liked to have his 
captives suck him once they were reasonably cowed. It 
was better than just raping them, because the mouth 
really was the center of their being, because they 
hated it more, and because they had to actively work to 
give him pleasure instead of just lying there like they 
could being fucked. 

He undressed, as before carefully folding his clothing. 
He walked over to her, his stiff penis pointing at her. 
"My sweet kitten, you're going to suck me now. You need 
to be very, very good and very, very sweet, and give me 
maximum pleasure. I'll instruct you as you go, but I 
don't tolerate any slacking. Use that pretty mouth of 
yours for what it was intended -- to pleasure the man 
who masters you. This will give you the chance to take 
part in your own domination." 

She reached up the short distance to his prick and 
pulled it slightly downward to her mouth. She did not 
hesitate, would not hesitate for anything he demanded 
now. She took the head in her mouth. It was so much 
larger around than her husband's that she had to open 
her mouth especially wide to take it in. She remembered 
the running commentary of her friends, that any rapist 
must have a tiny cock that wouldn't interest a woman. 

He was uncircumcised, and the head was slippery with 
pre-cum. It tasted just like her husband's penis, a 
little like bitter urine and a bit of an off, meaty 
flavor. She tried to be good, remembering what her 
husband especially liked, using her tongue and cheeks, 
tickling his shaft with her fingers, tickling his 
balls. She didn't generally like fellatio, but she 
loved her husband and it excited him. She would do 
anything but let him come in her mouth. But her captor 
would do that, she was sure. Could it be any worse than 
the shit? 

Usually when she sucked her husband they followed with 
straight fucking, but a few times she had sucked him 
right to orgasm, pulled him out of her mouth at the 
last possible moment, and pumped him onto his belly. 
She was fascinated by what it did on its own, jumping 
on its own, pulsating in her hand, and spitting out 
slime. It made her think of an eel. They followed with 
him using a vibrator on her, while she thought about 
taking his semen in her mouth, secretly wishing she 
were brave enough to do it at least once. 

He pushed his penis deep into her mouth and it choked 
her. He pulled out most of the way and she licked and 
sucked just the head. More fluid seeped out of the 
hole, and she swallowed it. She concentrated: please 
him, pleasure him, be good, do it right. She tickled 
his balls and pumped the shaft into her mouth. He held 
her head and moved his dick deep into her again, then 
out. She tried to time her breathing to his thrusts. He 
was going faster. 

Then he pushed it far in and twitched it in and out 
rapidly and spurted cum into her mouth. He was saying 
"yes, yes" almost breathlessly. The penis spurted only 
at the start, then flowed. The cum was surprisingly 
aromatic. She couldn't do anything but swallow and 
swallow, and when he was finished he made her keep the 
dick in her mouth for several minutes, while it shrank 
back down. She had done it and she was sure she had 
pleased him. It hadn't been as bad as she had thought. 
It hadn't made her nauseous. 

She knelt before him with his penis in her mouth, 
sucking slightly until it softened completely and was a 
warm, soft mass that fit completely inside her. He kept 
one hand on her head, holding her all the way to him, 
so her nose was pushed into his public hairs and her 
forehead pushed against his soft, belly skin. She kept 
one hand on his balls and the other resting flat 
against one of his thighs. 

Her mouth was filled with the flavor of semen and 
penis, and her nose with the musk odor of his lower 
body. A small amount of semen continued to seep out of 
him, and she continued to suck it down. It was more 
intimate than she had ever been with a man in her 
entire life. 

***

Finally he stepped away from her, his penis slipping 
from her mouth. He had a very slight smile. "You will 
be rewarded for that," he told her, and her heart 
soared for the briefest time. "You will please me well, 
I'm sure. Now there are things to do. Keep obeying 
completely like that, so that you don't add to you 
punishments." At that she shrank back into herself, and 
her head drooped. 

He told her to get back into the position with her head 
down and her ass up. When she did he lubricated her 
anus with something and threaded a hose into her. She 
knew it would be an enema. She hadn't had one since the 
period after the birth of her son. 

Her captor fiddled with something at a sink and warm 
liquid began pouring into her. When there was as much 
liquid in her as she remembered she expected it to 
stop, but it didn't. She became fuller. She made a 
squeaking gasp to get his attention without speaking, 
but he let it continue. She was too full; her belly 
cramped. He let more in. 

When finally he shut off the flow and pulled the hose 
out of her rectum she was moaning again and swinging 
her hips back and forth to try to reduce the pressure. 
She stared at the toilet. Her captor, though, caressed 
her back and her flanks and told her to hold herself 
still. Didn't he know how much he had put in her? 

He told her to stand and she did, stiff legged, her 
butt held tightly in a knot to help keep her ass 
closed. "Go stand in the tub," he told her. "You're 
going to practice discipline. Hold the water in for 
thirty minutes." 

Her eyes were wild. She stepped into the tub, holding 
herself as tightly as she could. She held her belly 
with her arms. She couldn't stop it. He had put 
something else in her besides water. She held and held 
and all of a sudden water and feces exploded from her, 
splattering on the tub floor and sides, spraying her 
legs with detritus. 

After the first burst there were two shorter ones, less 
violent, that splashed straight onto the tub floor. The 
smell of shit covered any other smell. She felt the 
urge to shit more, but nothing more came out, so she 
just stood swaying among the feces and water, not 
knowing what to do. Meanwhile, her captor stood across 
the bathroom, leaning against a sink, his arms crossed 
casually. 

"Oh, you're a very bad little girl. Couldn't last even 
five minutes, could you? Your daughter is much more 
disciplined than you are." She swung her head toward 
him. What? He went on: "I don't think she'll like how 
poorly you performed. Maybe I'll let her help with your 
punishment -- lord knows you've just gotten a lot more 
added on, with this sorry performance." 

"Well, what shall we do? You're already filthy, so why 
don't you just carry it around with you as a reminder? 
That's right, pick up some nice big pieces. Smear them 
on your face. Do it now! Now all over your tits! On 
your cunt! Do it immediately or I'll whip the skin 
right off your worthless cunt! Now run it through your 
hair." 

He was rushing her, making her terror and self-loathing 
increase. When she had finished what he told her, he 
had her put her arms behind her back and he cuffed 
them. He attached a dog collar and a leash and walked 
her out of the bathroom into a gray hall and to another 
gray room. She was dizzy, and sick with the smell, 
while he had gotten another erection. 

The room had several pieces of exercise equipment. 
"We're going to work on that flab every day," he said. 
He made her get on a treadmill. She couldn't lean on 
the front bar because her hands were bound behind her. 
He started the treadmill, then increased the speed, and 
she ran out of steam almost immediately. 

She started to stumble, so he got a large, leather 
paddle and hit her on the flanks, the belly, the back, 
all over. It kept her going, gasping and staggering, 
until she fell hard to the floor of the treadmill and 
was pushed off by it. 

She lay on the cement floor of the room, no longer 
responding to the paddle with anything but breathless 
cries. In a bit he stopped. He left her for a moment, 
then made her get up. He used the leash to walk her 
back to the original room, a walk that took some doing, 
as she kept stumbling and her knees kept giving out. In 
the room he inserted ear plugs, attached the gag, and 
pulled down the stocking mask. He tied her feet apart 
to the same ropes as the previous night. She was 
swaying and seemed ready to fall. 

He uncuffed her arms, cuffed them to the ropes over her 
head, and pulled them upward until she was airborne 
again. Now, finally, she bleated like a sheep and 
twisted her body back, forth, for a few minutes, then 
finally just hung and moaned like last night. 
Everything smelled of shit, but she hardly noticed it. 
He turned off the light and left her in the dark.

To be continued...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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