Protecting Helena

by Cordelia Gregory

  “Shh, little one. It is all over. You did well. I am proud of you, little girl.”

  She sobbed louder when he touched her, and she felt her need for him become stronger. He circled his fingers over her hot flesh provoking the heavy wetness in her pussy to increase tenfold when his touch created a shiver down her bottom to the centre between her thighs.

  “There is something I need to do before I can let you go back into his mind, Helena,” Mark said softly continuing his pleasurable caress to calm the heat rising from her hot, bare bottom. “I need to take you. I want him to smell me on you. He needs to know you are my property and no matter what he tries to do he will never be able to take you from me.”

  Helena wouldn’t comprehend the true meaning of his words until a little while later.

  She sensed him moving his fingers across the seat of her backside downwards to the beginnings of her pussy lips splayed over the leather seat. She could feel the seat was already soaking wet. Mark slipped his fingers between the swollen folds and remarked with pleasure,

  “Good girl. Nice and wet for me. I want to take you but there is something I want you to do first.”

  Mark curled his arm under her body and lifted her from the Ducati to set her down on her feet in front of him. Her hands were still bound by her bra and he showed no signs of wishing to free her. Standing over her he lifted her chin high forcing her to strain.

  “You know what I want from you, little one. Are you going to do it of your own free will? This is your last chance to do that. I will not give you a choice as you expressed so eloquently to me in your mind, but I want to be sure you haven’t changed your mind,” he informed her in that stern fatherly tone she loved so much.

  When she didn’t answer straightaway, he lifted her chin higher forcing her to stand on her tiptoes.

  “Do not keep me waiting, little one,” he said wagging his finger at her. “Or I will devise a new punishment for you to endure.”

  This is it. No going back. He won’t have you any other way and you don’t want it any different. Get on your damn knees or make him force you.

  Defiantly, just like a spoilt brat, she shook her head provoking him into action. This was going to go her way.

  “I see. Then I will make you.”

  Lord Fox abruptly let go of her chin leaving her to land back down on her feet. The action made her wobble and he was quick to take advantage. He placed his hand on her shoulder and pressed down hard guiding her firmly down onto her knees in submission in front of him. Finally, she knelt before him, her hands bound in front of her naked body looking up in adoration feeling as though the position was natural and more importantly comfortable in her new found, persona. It thrilled her to the core she had got her wish and he had made her. It showed that their thoughts were finely in tune and they were merging in love as one.

  Mark stroked her hair loving the silky feel of each strand as he did so. At long last she was kneeling before him in complete submission with her eyes lowered until he gave her permission to raise them and look upon them.

  “Thrust your breasts out towards me,” he instructed maintaining the dominance in his tone.

  He was pleased to see she immediately did as she was told and kept her eyes lowered at the same time. Finally, they were making progress and she was trusting him to take care of her and own her. The images of her nearly being raped by Rann were still fresh in his mind and haunting him every day. Today, had to work, he had to make her his completely and this time when she dealt with Rann she would be carrying a piece of him. The decision to impregnate her came strong and fast. He wanted the bastard to know he couldn’t have her. No matter what he tried to do to her he would never possess Helena. She belonged to Mark and no one would ever be able to untie the bond between them. Helena would be bound to him and this new attachment would allow him to enter the vision and protect her more strongly than before.

  There was nothing he wanted more. This life with Helena was what he’d yearned for and to complete it with marriage and a child was perfect. He just hoped Helena would agree. He would just have to coax and persuade her.

  “Reach up and unzip my trousers, little one.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she answered his command in a gentle, timid voice.

  As she moved her arms and began to kneel up so she could stretch her bound wrists upwards, she lost her balance for a moment on the twigs and undergrowth. With a small cry, she clutched at his tight, leather clad leg for support. He remained standing tall and unmoved, even when he felt the brush of her nipples graze the leather biking trousers. But she was to surprise him by holding his leg tighter and pressing her face to it.

  “I love you,” she whispered for the first time.

  He smiled knowing she couldn’t see his triumph. Helena was trembling against his leg with the strength of her emotion and conviction of her statement, but he made sure he did not react. He would show her just how much he loved her just as he always did.

  Helena started to move up his leg, rubbing her warm, buttery soft, naked body against his leather trouser leg. Once more, he felt the scrape of her nipples and then the brush of her lush, wet pussy. Exciting as her snaking movement was, she needed to be schooled for it. He had not given her permission and he wished he had his riding crop by his side to tap her bare bottom with to keep his submissive in line. Besides her hot red bottom had taken enough punishment for now. But she would learn, in time, that any indiscretions and bad behaviour from his little submissive would not go unchecked.

  She looked up at him suddenly. Obviously, she had picked up on his thoughts. He wanted to grin when she dutifully removed her wet pussy she had curled around his leg.

  “I am sorry, Sir. It won’t happen again. I got lost. I…”

  “Don’t worry I will reprimand you for it later. Now continue with your task, little one. We do not have much time. And keep your eyes lowered. I don’t remember giving you permission to raise them.”

  “Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir.”

  Helena diligently continued with her task.

  “Pull down my zip and take me out.”

  He hadn’t worn any underwear. It was how he liked to ride, and he rarely wore it anyway. Since his relationship with Helena had begun, he had wanted to remain free and able to take her at a moment’s notice when he wished.

  Helena’s small, delicate, slender hands tipped with rosy pink polish on the nails pulled down the zip. He felt himself harden even more in anticipation of her holding his length. The warm sunshine penetrating through the trees stroked his penis as she slowly exposed it to the air.

  “Take it out,” he urged huskily.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Helena was dutiful. Mark was forced to stifle a moan of deep satisfaction when she closed her hand around his taut flesh to pull it out of his trousers and into the fresh air. Helena automatically touched the tip to her lips and opened her mouth wide sliding her hands up and down his shaft. It took effort but his need to dominate the proceedings was more intense and he made her stop.

  “Wait,” he ordered. “I did not give you permission to insert me into your mouth. That, my love, is my pleasure,” he told her roughly grabbing the back of her hair and pulling it until her head was forced backwards.

  “Let go and open your mouth wide. Do it now. No more hesitating, Helena. You will submit fully to me.”

  Obediently she parted her luscious red-painted lips, allowing him to keep her balanced by the grip on her hair. Taking hold of his cock, he guided the tip to her open lush mouth and slipped it inside. He nodded and she slowly closed her lips painting a rim of scarlet around his length. Satisfied, Mark wove his other hand through her hair and brought her mouth further down on his cock until it pushed at the back of her throat. A small gagging reflex told him he was exactly where he needed to be. He pushed at the reflex until it subsided, and she relaxed enjoying the way his penis slid through the soft wet confines of the chamber while her teeth grazed at his skin. For a moment, he held his penis st
ill in her mouth allowing her to feel its power and dominance over her, silencing her speech.

  He strengthened the hold on her hair making her release a gasp to echo around his cock that moved back and forth in her mouth. He felt Helena curl her tongue and lap over the wet tip and suck at his cock as though it were an ice cream, threatening to make him lose his control.

  “Suck. Suck hard,” he ordered feeling his need for her increase tenfold.

  Helena possessed a wicked tongue and she appeared to know exactly how to bring him over the edge. His grip on her hair tightened and his thrusts into her mouth accelerated. Using the pull of her hair as reins he began moving her head at speed forcing more of her mouth down on to his shaft. To his delight she did not protest or show signs of disappointing him with her lack of submissiveness but sucked harder in an effort to please him.

  Just two more thrusts and I am gone.

  It made him quickly stop, letting go of her hair and pulling out of her mouth so fast it left her swaying on her precariously bound kneeling position.

  “I need to be inside you.”

  Mark reached down to pull her up by her tied wrists. He turned her around so that her hot bottom faced him and picked her up against his waist with ease. He carried her to the Ducati wanting to see her gorgeous naked body draped across the sleek, black metallic machine.

  “Sit,” he instructed putting her over the motorbike.

  He watched her glistening wet pussy settle down onto the leather seat knowing she would feel the throb of the running engine vibrate and stimulate her to ready her for him.

  “Lean forward and touch your feet to the floor.”

  She could barely manage the manoeuvre. Her small height would not let her feet completely make contact with the ground and she had to balance on her tiptoes. It was more than he could have hoped for.

  He couldn’t help but slide his hands along her back to admire her subservient position as she tried to clutch the front of the bike to steady her position. Not once did she complain but carried out his every instruction with determination. Her pale body untouched by the kiss of the sun was a stark, beautiful contrast to the dominant male power of the bike that held her in place for him. He sat on the bike behind her and removed his leather biking jacket leaving his lean athletic muscled chest bare. He stretched forward over her back touching his own skin to her soft back leaving his cock pressing against her fiery buttocks as he did so. He took hold of her wrists and undid the bra.

  “Hold the top of the handle bars.”

  She obeyed him without question.

  Cleverly, he wove the bra straps around her wrists and the handlebars in a genius way that took him only seconds. Now she was restrained in the position and straining to maintain it. Mark swept his hands down her arms and all her body, back towards her red bottom, admiring his prize from head to foot. Now it was time to truly make her his own and protect her from Michael Rann.

  His hands closed around her breasts and squeezed tight. A loud satisfied moan escaped her lips. For a while he played with her nipples, pulling, tugging, stretching and gently pinching them until her body began to move restlessly over the bike and her legs shook to keep her balanced on her tiptoes. He planted loving kisses down her spine to calm her agitation and cupped her buttocks cruelly, digging his fingers into her hot red skin igniting the pain pleasure paradox until she didn’t know whether to cry or moan.

  “Good girl,” he soothed repeating the action a second and third time noticing the way his cock painfully hardened watching her reaction still pressing against her flesh demanding entry. Eager to mount her, he slipped two fingers between the drenched folds of her pussy and caressed the pretty pink flesh and the bud nestled there. She was heavily wet and could take one hard thrust up inside her without any difficulty. She was ready.

  He rose from the seat and poised his cock at her entrance. With one hand, he caressed her entrance with the unsheathed helmet of his penis and pushed the tip inside while the other gripped her hip. He sat for a moment just in the neck of her channel waiting for her to realise what he was doing. Finally, it came.

  “But you aren’t wearing any…”

  “No,” he interrupted. “I want this, and I know you do too. I can feel it within you.” She didn’t deny it or even speak, he could feel it sitting strong in her mind. He could even feel her tears. “It is time to heal the past, Helena. I want you connected to me in a way no one, not even Rann can undo.” He paused. “I am not going to let anyone take you from me,” he told her fiercely thrusting up inside to the hilt coaxing her into obedience.

  She gave a loud satisfied cry feeling his length unencumbered for the first time and he felt her body open to him welcoming him inside to plant his seed deep to take root. He reached forward to take hold of her hair and force her to raise her head up. She was a beautiful submissive sight as he rode her in his squat position just above the leather seat of the Ducati moving hard, fast and urgent inside her, using her hair as a rein. His powerful thigh muscles enabling his steady firm thrusting movements reaching deep within her.

  Mark trailed his fingers over her thigh and down between her legs finding time to knead and squeeze her clit bobbing with the bucking movement. She was even wetter, so much so it was coating her thighs. He drove harder, deeper, curling his cock until it stroked the rough front wall of her vagina and the perfect centre of her pleasure. Helena started to pant and whimper signalling she was close to exploding.

  “Not yet,” he commanded slapping her pussy with the flat of his hand twice. “You will come when I give you permission, my little one.”

  But another high-pitched moan of pleasure and her defiance to take it rushed from her mouth prompting him to spank her pussy twice more. To emphasise his control, he reached up and swatted her swinging, wobbling breasts one after the other a few times and she calmed.

  Mark was more than ready but he had learned self-control. The climax was always more intense for both partners if they were denied for a while and he wanted to prolong the moment. His cock was fit to burst. Every time he looked down at her gorgeous body riding the bike as he rode her himself, it made him shudder with need. Finally, he could wait no longer and his drives into her channel became hard, almost brutal something she was intensely responding to, pushing her body back against him to meet every cruel spearing thrust. Lifting his fingers from her pussy, he slapped the triangle twice more and issued an order,

  “You may come, Helena.”

  With a shriek of delight, he felt her muscles tighten like a vice gripping him, trapping him inside. It was enough to force him to lose control until he was climbing with her. Her channel melted and twitched around him as with a roar he released his seed in a torrent, spurting it towards her womb.

  They moved together in perfect harmony and motion, made for each other until Helena collapsed satiated and exhausted on top of the Ducati and he on top of her, reaching for their breath.

  Chapter 15

  Helena sat in a chair next to Rann lying in his hospital bed. He had been in a coma since the shooting and the doctors weren’t sure how he had survived his injuries. Mark stood protectively behind her with his arms folded over his black suit jacket ready to take action if needed. Caroline Chambers had taken over from Lennox and she sat in another chair next to her, while two armed MI5 officers stood at the back of the room.

  For a while, Helena sat quietly listening to the noise of the ventilator breathe for Rann and the incessant beep of the heart monitor as she tried to make a psychic connection with the man. The mental barriers and defences he had put in place to stop her getting in were strong but in his weakened condition he could not maintain them, and she was able to walk straight in.

  Michael Rann’s mind was cluttered with violent images of rape, drink, drugs and abuse in his earlier life and present. She waved through the scenes coming thick and fast to her revealing his psychotic behaviour and cruel lack of empathy. His identity troubled a part of him, and Pura was a futile way at t
rying to keep it contained and calm. He wanted the world to change for him not the other way around. His mind showed her images of the abuse he endured as a child from both his father and mother, which led to his first rape and murder after leaving University for which he had escaped justice. It was almost textbook. He discovered his psychic ability back then as well and used it to manipulate others into believing the ideas he cultivated about a new world order after earning a History BA. He was a Svengali and had found it easy to influence and direct the most intelligent and those in authority. That’s why he had been able to recruit followers and believers in both the Whitehouse, Parliament and MI5 itself.

  The images ceased and Helena felt herself sucked in to somewhere else. It was a strange sensation; one she hadn’t experienced doing this work before. She dismissed it as being some sort of effect of Rann being in a coma and proceeded. Her surroundings became clear. She was on a tube train. Immediately she looked for signs of the line she was on. They were just coming into a station. It was Moore Street on the Picadilly line. She used to ride it when at University. She shouted out the information. Where was it going to stop and when was the bomb going to be detonated? The tube filled up with commuters and she got the feeling it was evening rush hour.

  She felt the customary cold chill announcing Rann’s presence coming closer, but she could not yet see him. She had to move fast. The doors closed and the tube moved off again down the tunnel. People were squashed in the tube train and it was red hot. Helena started to walk the train aisle feeling that her attention needed to be directed to the back of the train. She squeezed past the people and came to stop right at the back where two young teenage men sat. There were beads of perspiration on their foreheads and they were restless. The boy in the corner kept unzipping his rucksack and closing it. The other remonstrated with him for it but it didn’t stop him. Helena peered inside and confirmed it contained a makeshift device. She had no doubts that the second rucksack, the other boy held on his knee was also filled with one.