He had her vulnerable. Tied securely to the four posts of the bed, she had very little wiggle room. He sucked hard on one pert nipple causing her to moan and arch, as if trying to force more tit into his mouth.
He released the nipple with a loud sucking ‘pop’ that echoed in the large room. “Greedy slut” he laughed down at her, her eyes, heavy-lidded with her desires. Her makeup was already smudged, giving her a lovely ‘used’ look. He’d fucked her already, deep into her ass, shoving her beautiful face across the bedcover as he plowed his way forward into her tight heat.
He smacked her tit, and again the sound moved around the room. The music of lust, he mused, recalling his vicious grunts as he worked in and out of her lush bottom, her mewling cries as her ass was reamed, her small voice begging for permission to cum with him. That was some kind of music, he thought with a smile, the music he enjoyed most of all.
His finger danced over and around her clit, barely making contact before moving away. He’d played this game with her before, winding her up, making her beg, plead, moan and groan for her release. This time would be different.
“Tell me about your nightmare.” His voice was quiet, but firm. She had steadfastly refused to discuss it, but again and again she woke with real fear.
He rubbed over her clit again, harder, making her rise up into his hand.
She nodded vigorously. He went back to drawing languorous circles around her rising pleasure button.
“Tell me about your nightmare.” This was his “do it” voice. He looked at her eyes, finger still busy teasing at her engorged clit. He watched her blink, stare at him. Deer in the headlight kind of look, he thought, but it was past time to deal with this. She shook her head, but reluctantly. This time, he knew, he would break her.
“Tell.ME. about. Your. Nightmare.” Each word a terse bullet, punctuated by a pinch on her clit.
She moaned. She’d been taught to obey his every order but this…She sighed. He kept eye contact with her, kept his finger circling her narrow point of need.
“I-i’m at work,” she began, voice faltering. “he comes in the door. i’m alone, and he knows it. He shows me his knife. I told you this part before…i don’t see why you…” her voice trailed off.
“a knife like this one?” He held up a hunting knife his friend let him borrow. The blade gleamed, a silver flash of malice. She gasped.
“Yes! oh gawd…wha…what are you doing with…” she trailed off as he fingered into her cunt with one hand, and placed the knife on her belly with his other. It lay there, warmed from his body heat, glinting with every breath she took.
He gently fucked her with his hand, watching as her eyes went from the knife gently rising and falling on her torso, to his as her pleasure began to mount. When she would have stopped, he urged her on.
“I’m instructed to lock the door. Turn off the lights. He pulls me down the hallway to the bathroom. I’m shaking, so hard i can hardly walk, but the knife is poking into my back and i go forward one step at a time.” her voice was trembling in remembered fear.
He pulled his fingers from her slick sheath, and began circling her clit again.
“What happens next,” he asked, his voice gently soothing.
“oh gawd, please don’t make me…” His fingers pinched her clit, eliciting a moan of pure lust.
“Want some more of that?” he asked.
“mmmmm” she nodded her head.
“Then keep talking, ” he commanded, his voice suddenly stern. “All the way through it, little slut. You stop, I’ll stop. I’ll leave the room and come back when I think I’m ready to hear your finish it.”
She knew he’d make good on that promise/threat. He’d done that once before when she’d defied him, back in the early days. He’d gone out to dinner with a buddy, and not returned for 5 hours. She shivered, and not from dream-fear this time.
“He pushes me to stand in the door of the stall. He throws a white rope over the door frame, and then ties my hands up over my head. He ties each leg to each side of the door frame. I want to kick him but i’m so scared he’ll stab me that i don’t.” Her voice faltered as he picked up the knife, and began lightly tracing it across her tits, tapping her nipples, dragging the tip down her belly to her mons, then back up, even while driving her crazy with lust as he tormented her clit.
She picked up the story again as his eyes flashed into hers, and ignored the twin sensations. The light tracing of the knife was actually turning her on. She could feel wetness begin sliding out her cunt, and trail down between her ass cheeks to drip onto the bedsheet beneath her butt.
“He slides his hand up under my skirt. Other than telling me to lock the door, he’s not spoken to me. Not a word. I feel his hand exploring my ass, feeling for my pussy. He reached up and pulled down my pantyhose, and i feel the knife on my ass as he cuts away my underwear. I’m so scared, scared he’ll cut me, scared he’ll kill me. He puts the knife on the floor, I can see it there between my legs. It’s like a promise of a threat. I can barely swallow, then i hear his fly go down. My skirt is up around my waist, and he’s putting his cock inside me. I think of You. Scream in my head for you. He reached around front and unhooks my bra. His hands up under my shirt, he’s pulling and squeezing them, rolling my nipples.”
He interrupted her.
“Like this?” and he rolled and pinched her nipples.
“Oh nooooo,” she moaned, “You hurt me way better than he did…” and she moaned again as he pulled and squeezed her little bud, then repeated it with the other. He took up the knife again, a little more pressure, not cutting her flesh, but hard enough to make thin marks on her.
“Go on,” he urged as he traced something on her tits. Over and over the knife bit into her skin, not breaking it but scratching. She moaned loudly as his finger pinched her clit, hard.
“He fucks me, but i don’t really feel it that much. His cock is way smaller than Yours. I feel his cum splashing on my thighs, dripping out of me. He pats my ass. He picks up the knife, wipes the blade and handle on me, because some of the cum got on it. Then he cuts my ankles free, and my hands. He pushes me to the toilet, forces my head down into the bowl, and i fight back, thinking he’s going to drown me…
….my face goes into the water, i’m choking and trying so hard to hold my breath…and he lets me up. ‘Doan say a fucking thing about this to nobody, got it fuckhole?’ he says to me. I nod, so scared. He pushes me into the toilet again, his hand tied up in my hair. I start to see spots, think, i’m dead…and he let’s go of my hair. I pull up out of the toilet, choking, crying, and throw up. When i look around, he’s gone. Then i wake up.”
He drew the knife from forehead to her clit. Her eyes never left the glinting blade. But instead of fear, he read curiosity. Maybe even hunger. Knife play would soon be part of their playtime.
Later, when he released her from the bed, she looked to see the scratches on her chest. He had neatly written “My Slut” in his meticulous handwriting.
She never did have that dream again.