Tombstone by Candace Smith Read Free Book Online Page A

her lips.   “Open, slut.”
    Claudine trembled, but kept her lips sealed.   Oh god.   Oh dear god.   Someone has to get me out of here.   Tombstone gripped the front of her collar and he slammed his knee into her pussy.
    “Aaah.   Oh, god.”   Claudine shrieked in agony and tried to bend over, cupping her throbbing pussy with her hand.   It felt like her lips were already swelling and bruising from the pain.   When she screamed, the man worked the foam gag into her mouth again.
    Claudine clawed for the buckle and the man grabbed her wrists, transferring them to one strong hand while he reached for the cuffs.   Within seconds, he had her wrists locked behind her again.   She wailed and thrashed her legs in panic when he lifted her and dumped her back into the wet casket.   He used a small key to unlock her collar from the chain and he slammed the lid down while she screamed.
    It took an hour for the thumping kicking to end, and it had been a long time since he heard her trying to scream.   Tombstone opened the casket, re-hooked the chain, and dragged her out again.   The oatmeal on her face and hair had dried to a flaking crust that had glued a few of her eyelashes together.   Tombstone pulled out the gag and unlatched her wrists.   “Eat,” he ordered.
    Claudine knelt in front of the oatmeal, now cold and congealing.   She shuddered and cried quietly while she finished, clawing the wood planks with clenching fingers placed obediently on either side of the bowl.   When she was through licking the sides clean, she raised up, remaining on her knees and nervously fisting her hands by her thighs.
    “Shower,” he ordered.
    Claudine rocked to her feet and walked to the stone shower, already bracing for the frigid spay to hit her again.   Once more she was drenched, and she raised her face to wash away the rest of the oatmeal.   She was terrified and determined to do what he demanded.
    Tombstone latched her cuffs behind her and unlocked her from the chain.   Claudine felt his fingers reach under the collar, gripping it tightly while he dragged her across the floor and into the room across from the kitchen.   Claudine gasped, but kept from speaking.   There were blank slabs for headstones and etching supplies on one side of the room, and a curious assortment of restraining equipment on the other.   The man pushed her onto a heavy wooden chair.
    Claudine wanted to scream and beg; to bribe him if necessary.   She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out when his impossibly blue eyes met hers, and he stroked gently down her cheek.   A wide leather band circled over her breasts, and she grunted when he tightened it, forcing the air from her lungs.   A second strap buckled under her breasts, digging into the soft flesh on the underside where they met her ribcage.   Another belt wrapped around her waist, pulling her back until she was sitting straight and crushing her bound arms into the chair.   Her spread ankles were lashed to the legs, exposing her pussy.   The last thing he secured was her collar, and Claudine sat immobile, fearfully wondering what he was going to do to her, and now too terrified to make a sound.
    He sat down on a rolling stool and opened a drawer in a chest beside the chair.   When he turned back to her, Claudine saw a brush and hair tie in his hand.   He separated a section of hair and secured it into an auburn ponytail in the center of the top of her head.   There was an inch and a half of fringe hanging below the gathered mass, circling her scalp like a headband.
    Claudine watched him pick up scissors, and she whimpered when he began cutting the hair around the gathered locks.   After he finished he rubbed an ointment into her closely shorn scalp.   It began to burn and her eyes teared.   It’s some kind of depilatory , she realized.   Oh god .   She envisioned her thick wavy tresses and the way the man had styled it.   A sob did escape when he swiped two thick pads