I pushed against the door, putting as much space between his body and mine as I could manage. I scowled at him and he smirked at me, clearly amused. He touched his handkerchief to his face, and dabbed a way a spot of red. I must have hit him harder than I thought.
“I’ve had girls like you before. You think because your daddy buys you a convertible and pays for you to get a meaningless education before you marry some simpleton, you’re someone special. Someone important. You’re not. Your whole life has been leading up to this. Your father could have quit long ago, lived a more modest life. He was far from broke when he came to me, only ambitious. That ambition meant more to him than you. Your future husband, such as he would have been, would only have wanted you to wear on his arm, as a symbol of status, or to get in good with your worthless father. You see, Vitoria, I’m the only one who’s ever cared about you at all. I care enough to break you.”
“You’ll never break me,” I said.
The car pulled away. I rode in silence. Light classical music piped in through the car’s speakers, and Carlyle listened, waving his elegant fingers back and forth, as if he were conducting the music himself. The gesture was so pretentious it sickened me. I stared out the windows, trying to learn and memorize the route from my home to wherever he was taking me. I’d already decided I would never go back to my mother and father again. Whatever kind of sick fuck this man was, he was right about that. If they would do this to me, how could they ever love me? My eyes burned, and I felt tears on my cheeks. I didn’t give the bastard the satisfaction of wiping them away. I just kept quiet.
Eventually, the car pulled around behind a large, old house. Revolutionary war era, maybe earlier. The door opened and Carlyle stepped out.
Then my door opened.
I bolted. I kicked out of my pumps and I ran barefoot, but I made it less than five steps before he had me, shrieking and thrashing, and dragged me into the house. Once inside he dumped me on the plush carpeted floor and stood over me.
“These displays are pointless. No one is going to hear you here. There is nowhere to run.”
I looked around. He had people. Servants. A maid in a uniform. How could these people just watch this?
“They are well paid, and understand the consequences of betraying me. Get up.”
How did he do that? Was he reading my mind?
Slowly, I got to my feet.
His hands shot out and grabbed the placket of my blouse, and yanked. It came open all at once, sending the buttons pattering across the carpet. I twisted and tried to cover myself, but he turned me around and ripped away my clothes, the fabric ripping loudly as it split under his grip. My blouse came away in tatters, and he clamped his hand on the back of my neck while he undid the clasp on my bra and pulled the straps down, then yanked it away. He didn’t stop me covering myself, or at least my chest, as he yanked down my jeans and pushed me to the ground, twisting to hold me down as he dragged off my tight jeans and threw them aside, and then my socks. His hand found my throat again and he pinned me down, face up, and slid his hand between my legs. His finger slid along my folds, and I gasped, going still.
“You’re wet,” he said. He tasted his middle finger, his eyes never leaving mine.
Then, he let go.
“On your knees.”
Shuddering and hugging myself, I slowly got up on my knees. One of his servants brought a silver tray. Resting on it was a thin leather strip that could only be a choker, or a collar. He scooped it up, swept it behind my neck, and clasped the buckle just under my chin. Panting, I looked up at him, blinking the tears away.
“What is this?”
“A tracking device,” he said. “I’ll always know where you are, so trying to run away is pointless. If you cross the border of the grounds without my permission, this will happen.”
A jolt shot through my body, I screamed, and curled up on the floor, panting. My arms and legs quivered from the shock, and stars danced in my vision.
“Try to take the collar off, and you’ll get the same. Understand.”
I nodded.
“That’s a good girl. Now stand up.”
Shakily, slowly, I got up. He cupped my chin, gently, and turned my gaze up to meet his.
“It’s not so bad,” he said, leaning in. I almost thought he’d kiss me, but he turned my head and whispered in my ear. “You know you like it.”
This couldn’t be happening. Heat was spreading out of my sex and my heart pounded in my chest. Feeling him tear my clothes off was exciting, and standing there naked in the hall with all these people around me made me feel so vulnerably and squirmy I could barely stand it, and yet… it was like being tickled by phantom fingers.
“Can I have something to wear?”
He looked at me, and made a small tut-tut sound. “You didn’t say the magic word.”
He took my arm and dragged me down the hall, past a grand dining room and a library, and into the kitchens. He sat down in a simple chair beside the block style table and yanked me forward. I fell over his lap, my stomach resting across his thighs, and put one hand on my back. The other rose up, and I barely registered what was about to happen before a stinging slap hit my ass and made me yelp and try to jerk out of his grasp. His hand came down again, striking the other side, and I bit my lip to choke back another scream. He hit hard, but lightly, somehow. The next slap came, and then another and another, but the last ended in a caress, his hand sliding over the reddened, sore skin of my ass. The caress was as bad as the blows, and made me suck in a breath through clenched teeth.
“Now, ask me again, like a proper young lady.”
“May I have something to wear, please?”
“Of course. Stand up.”
Shaking, I rose to my feet. My butt hurt, stinging as I moved. This time he just walked, and I quickly dropped into step behind him. What was happening to me? This all felt stupidly natural. I even fell into a natural pace, walking two steps behind with my arms folded over my breast and my shoulders drawn in. Carlyle opened a door off the hallway and gestured inside.
“This will be your room for now.”
It was simple- just a bed and a dresser.
“Cat, or rabbit?”
“What?”
He looked at me sharply.
“Rabbit,” I said. I knew it was some kind of game. It probably didn’t matter which I picked, either would result in some sort of humiliation.
He pulled open a drawer, and lifted something out of it. It was a big puffy cotton ball, like a rabbit’s tail, and hanging from it was a bulbous rubber plug.
“Get on the bed. On your hands and knees.”
I looked at him and swallowed, but there was no choice. I got on the bed, on my hands and knees, and waited. I jumped when his thumb brushed my asshole, and he sucked in a breath.
“See how it puckers. So tight. Hold still.”
He smeared lube from a bottle on the butt plug, and pushed it between my cheeks. After a moment of resistance and a whimper, it pushed inside, spreading me open, and my as gripped it, closing around the narrow shaft. I could feel the fuzzy bunny tail against my skin, itchy and tickle.
“There, now you have something to wear.”
“I meant clothes.”
Seizing my arm, he spun me around and pinned me to the bed. He pressed me down with his hand on my stomach and roughly slid it up, until it covered my breast, and squeezed. The pale flesh when white between his fingers as he kneaded and squeezed it, and his fingers closed around my nipple and pinched. I jumped, and felt the plug shift inside me. His hand moved the other way, sliding between my legs. I gasped and pressed my thighs together, but he worked his fingers between them. I felt them wriggle against my pussy lips, his middle finger pressing at my entrance. I whimpered and writhed and grabbed his arm with my hands as my legs lifted up and I tried to curl into a ball. He stared into my face as his fingers slide inside me, and I gasped. My whole body clenched from the shock and I jerked. His finger slid out.
“You are a virgin. Good.”
His finger moved to my clit, and began lightly circling around it. Waves of pleasure and cold shocks ran through my body, and I squirmed under his grip, squeezing his hand with my legs. How could this feel so good, to be fingered by this bastard? My wriggling became less a struggle for freedom and more a reaction to what his fingers did. His touch was expert, and soon I was biting down on my own teeth to keep from moaning and egging him on. His finger moved faster and faster, teasing my clit. My hips lifted up as I tried to hump his hand, and I became a passenger in my own body, betrayed by my pleasure. It built and built, and I felt heat spreading on my skin, my muscles clenching up as I neared a peak.
Then he let go, completely. He just stepped back.
I reached for myself, moving my hand towards my throbbing pussy, and then the shock hit me. I went rigid on the bed, my mouth locked open in a silent scream.
“No one will give you pleasure but me. That was free. The next time you’ll have to beg.”
“Never I panted, pulling my hands away. I rolled over and clamped my legs together and covered my breasts with my arms. My nipple was still throbbing from the pinch. It was torture to be deprived this way, to be so close to my peak and then rolled back from it. He stood over me, watching. His hand came back, this time resting on my side. He lifted his palm up and traced his fingers lightly over my skin, somewhere between tickle and caress. Inflamed by his touch on my most sensitive places, his fingers left burning trails over my skin.
“Please,” I begged.
“Please what?
“Stop.”
He drew his hand back. “As you wish. Don’t try touching yourself. I’ll know.”
He left me alone in the room. I curled up in a ball. I looked at the dresser, but I knew putting on clothes without permission would get me the same result as taking this damned thing out of my ass without asking. I rolled onto my back, fully aware that I was probably being watched by a camera somewhere. As I moved, the feeling of the big rubber knob in my ass made me shiver. I couldn’t touch myself, but when I arched against the bed and pressed on the plug, it shifted inside me, and that felt good. I did it slowly, hoping I wouldn’t be noticed. After fifteen minutes of it I whimpered, realizing that it felt good but it didn’t get any better, and the high from almost reaching orgasm had faded, leaving me cold and sweaty. I curled up on my side and lay not he bed, shivering, waiting to see what would happen next.
I’d never slept naked before. I twisted, feeling the object in my asshole, and reached for it, only to stop when I finally noticed the camera in the corner. If I pulled it out, I’d get another shock.
Finally, I managed to fall asleep. It was fitful, twisting. I broke out in a cold sweat and writhed on the bed in my sleep, pulling at the collar. When I woke up, he was standing over me, watching.
“Sit up.”
Groggy, not really rested, I blinked as I obeyed. I no longer bothered to cover myself. He put his hand on my cheek and I froze, watching, waiting for something to happen. Instead, he gave me a glass of milk. I took it in both hands, feeling the cold, sweaty glass against my palms, and stared at it.
“What’s in it?”
“Milk,” he shrugged.
The hell with it.
I downed the whole thing in big gulps, gasping for breath when I was done. I was hungry, not just thirsty.
“What are you going to do to me?”
He crouched down so we were face to face.
“What would you like me to do?”
“Let me go.”
“Where?”
“Home.”
“To the people who sold you to me?”
I blinked. I edged away from him and folded my arms over my breasts, and squeezed my legs together.
“Have you there, don’t I? You want to go back to the people that sold you. Why?”
“What makes them worse than the one who bought me?”
“You answered your own question. I bought you. I wanted you. They did not.”
“That’s not true.”
“Oh, I’m sure you were wanted.” He sat on the bed. “Until it came down to you, or the house, or the cars, or the pointless luxuries. You’re just a thing to them.”
“Says the guy who beat me and shocks me with electricity.”
“I didn’t beat you. I spanked you. Does your ass hurt now?”
I shook my head.
“The shocks aren’t so bad. Just a little reminder. They help you know your place. That’s not so bad, is it?”
I still shied away from him.
“Remember how I made you feel.”
His hand slid under me. I froze, feeling his fingers slide under my thigh until I was sitting on his hand. His finger pressed at my slit and I shivered. He moved closer, sniffing at my hair, drawing in long slow breaths.
“Lie on your stomach.”
I rolled over and let my legs hang off the bed. Had I become so obedient, so quickly? I forgot that as I felt him easing the plug out of my ass. As soon as it was free, he slipped a finger inside, pushing up my asshole and curling inside me. I shuddered and made a small sound, and he pushed another finger slowly into my pussy as he stoked his hand up and down my back.
“Now, tell me. How does that make you feel. Don’t lie to me.”
“It feels weird.”
I shuddered from the feeling of invasion, of being used. His fingers began to work, and I grew hot immediately, groaning as warmth flooded from my sex and spread all through my body. His other hand stroked my back, finally sliding up to squeeze my neck. There was a strength in his hands, but his touch was gentle and controlling all at once.
“It feels weird,” he mused. “Such an ugly little word. Tell me what you really feel.”
“It feels… good.”
My legs twisted together, trapping his hand as he slipped a second finger in my pussy. His pinky tickled my clit and I gasped, arching under his grip. The session last night left me ready to beg, but I refused to give in and plead for him.
“Your little cunt is so tight,” he said. “Money well spent.”
His fingers drew out of me and I gasped, curling up on the bed.
“What’s that? You want more?”
I started to nod before I stopped myself. Damn him.
“You do. Just say it.”
He leaned down over me, bringing his face close to mine. “Give in to your desire and I will show you a world of pleasure you cannot possibly imagine.”
I stared back, defiant. He made a small tut-tut sound.
“I can see I need to give you a little taste… and have a taste for myself. Roll over, and spread your legs.”
I hesitated.
“Now.”
I rolled onto my back and slid my legs apart. He moved over me and lowered himself between my thighs, resting on the floor, and brought his face to my sex. I could feel his hot breath on my most sensitive skin as he stared at me, the feeling of exposure building until I tried to close my legs and cover myself, and he stopped me with his hands on my thighs, and dipped down to drag his tongue over my folds, slowly. I whimpered and bit my lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was pleasuring me. He could sense it anyway, I knew. He kissed my sex, moving his tongue all around, circling, teasing, tasting, pressing into my entrance before drawing back. I’d never been so wet in my life. I hugged myself and clenched my teeth to hold back the moans, soft little squeaks escaping anyway. I writhed on the bed and pressed my legs against his hands, trying to rub my thighs together.
Every time I edged onto a new plateau of pleasure he drew back, letting my sensations fade before driving them higher, and higher, beyond anything I had ever accomplished with my fumbling explorations with my fingers or a vibrator. Gasping for breath, I covered my mouth until he rose up and licked his wet chin.
“Now,” he said. “Now I leave you to this, and if you touch yourself you will be punished.”
“Don’t go,” I squeaked, aghast
at my own voice. “Don’t leave me this way.”
He leaned over me. “What do you want?”
“Make me cum,” I croaked, desperate to touch myself, to end this sweet torture.
He grabbed my chin and made me face him. “You will bear my children. Do you understand? That is why I brought you here. To willingly accept my seed.”
My head swirled. Did he mean what I thought he meant? I didn’t care.
“Do it.”
“Say the magic word.”
“Please.”
He pushed me down, stood up, and began to disrobe. I had seen the male body before, but he was a flawless specimen, everywhere sculpted and perfected, and soon he was down to silk boxers. Beyond that, I had never seen. Never seen a fully naked man, never seen a cock. When I set eyes on his erection a wave of fear rolled through me. As it sprung free and he stood up. The size shocked me. I knew the details of course, but he was going to put that inside me? It was too big, I would never be able to take it all. Then he bent and took me by the arms, and turned me so I lay on my back, spread across the narrow bed. Moving over me, his weight pushed the mattress down. He knelt over me, straddling me, his cock jutting out proudly over my chest.
Leaning down, he took my wrists and lifted my arms so my hands rested next to my head. Then he dove in, his lips hot against my throat, grasping and sucking, his teeth sudden and sharp on my skin, drawing yet more gasps. He worked his way down over my breasts, tracing hot trails of soft wet kisses on my tender skin before he took my nipple in his mouth and sucked, hard. I sucked in a breath through my bit lip and closed my eyes. A chill ran through me as his cock brushed my belly.
He lowered himself on top of me, pressing me down into the bed with his weight. His hands fell on my arms, slid up, and grasped my wrists, holding me still as his face filled my vision.
“Look at me. Let me see the look in your eyes. No matter what, keep your eyes open.”
I felt his cock against my leg, sliding, and then suddenly the heat of it pressed against my entrance. I was so wet that when he grunted and flexed his perfect body his cock entered me, the bulbous head spreading me open easily, at first. Then the pain came, quick and sharp, and I squirmed and yelped as his cock sank yet deeper into my body, but I kept my eyes open.
First Times: Nine Tales of Innocence Lost Page 3
