by Sarah Kate
“Um . . . Someone gave me a vibrator as a gift—”
“Your boyfriend?”
“Yes,” she said hesitatingly. She hadn’t wanted to bring him into it. “I was home by myself once—my parents had gone out. I decided to get it out and try it. I was too scared to use it at first, because I’d only had sex a couple of times, and I thought it would be harder and more violent than my boyfriend’s dick. But I was really missing him, so I got olive oil from the kitchen and put it all over it to make it slippery.”
“Did you baby?” he said. “And how did you use it?”
“It was a smooth insertable vibrator, so I carefully put it inside me and moved it to different areas to see what the sensations were like, and to see which I liked best.”
“What way did you like it best?” he asked. He sounded drugged.
“I liked to place the tip against my clit, then slide the shaft down between my pussy lips, and insert the vibrator inside, and then bring it back up in a reverse stroke, sliding along my clit again on the way up. I kept doing that slowly, over and over, and let my orgasm build intensely. If it brought me to the point too quickly, I backed it off and tried less intense stimulation, or sometimes I turned it off and used my hand. I like to build slowly.”
“Did you try and put it up your ass?” he asked.
“Not successfully.”
“Not successfully? It hurt a little bit?”
“I was just scared.”
“Do you still have that vibrator?”
“Not any more.”
“Maybe I should get you another one,” he said. “You’re so hot, baby. Keep moving on me.” He parked his hands on her waist, at the top of her hips, and let her do the work. He was using his hands to indicate how he wanted her to move, the pace he wanted, as if guiding her in the art of fucking.
She was silent and her eyes were shut tight as she applied herself to the task. When she opened them again, he was already looking at her. His mouth was open. He seemed almost delirious with pleasure, especially because she was providing her own friction to his embedded cock.
“What are you doing to me, Nicole?” he asked, breathlessly. She didn’t understand the question and stayed silent. “What’s my prick doing in your cunt?” he said.
“Fucking me,” she said.
“And what are you doing to me?”
“I’m fucking you.”
He sat up and clasped her in his arms. “Yeah, Nicole. Fuck me.” He held her closely, looking down at where their bellies and pelvic areas were joined and grinding. He kissed her lazily, toying with her tongue, hopelessly desirous.
He pushed his face into her neck, and with his fingertips felt the softness of her blonde tresses. He tucked a strand behind her ear, looking intently at her lips. He slowed down, holding her with one arm around her waist. She tried not to make direct eye contact, but he held her face, wanting her to look. “My whole life is fucked,” he said. “This is the only thing that works for me, getting inside you. I’ll always take care of you, baby. Always. Say you want me, tell me.”
He held her like he was rocking a baby.
“I want you,” she said, hiding herself against him. “I want you, I want you, I want you.”
* * *
He didn’t let go for a long time after he came. He lay back and she was on his chest, clasped against him.
“You got into it a little bit more this time, didn’t you?” he said. “I didn’t hurt you?”
“No. It was good.” When he was gentle like this, she almost had compassion for him.
“Which part did you like the best?” he asked.
“I like being on top,” she said, becoming a little restless. He let her get off him, and she lay on her stomach. He ran his fingers over her naked back.
They were silent for some time.
He crept closer to her, and brushed his lips against her. “Are you still cut up about that phone call with your old boyfriend?” he asked.
“Not much,” she whispered. “We didn’t get to see each other anyway.” She closed her eyes to hold back the tears.
“You’ll get over it,” he said. “When my wife took my daughter, it messed me up. Hey . . . ” He rubbed her back. “You hungry?”
“Yeah.”
He took her downstairs to the cluttered kitchen. It had plain, whitewashed walls, and was piled with dirty dishes. He made her some crackers with butter. He lifted her up onto the counter and stood between her legs. She took a small bite of a cracker, and glanced out the narrow window above the sink. It was completely dark outside, she couldn’t see a thing. He caressed her hair and touched her face and legs while they ate. He didn’t leave her alone for a second. He lifted her bandaged hand to his lips and softly kissed her fingertips.
“You’re not like the other girls,” he said. “I’m going to take care of you.”
Something about the way he said that, made her feel very scared about what happened to the other girls. He lifted her down from the bench.
“You should get to bed,” he said. “I’ve got some things I’ve got to do.”
She looked up at the clock on the wall. It was 9:00pm. He took her into the lounge. He unwrapped the chain from the beam, but he didn’t put it on her. He took her back upstairs to his bedroom with the chain. He attached it to the head of the bed.
“I want you to stay up here with me.”
“You don’t have to chain me up,” she said humbly, as he began to put it around her wrist. “I can make breakfast for us in the morning, before you wake up. Please?”
“I wouldn’t even try,” he said. He gave her a little kiss, followed by a tap on the cheek. “Don’t wait up for me.”
“What do you mean I shouldn’t even try?”
“You can bat your eyelids and speak all sweet, but I’m not letting you off that chain, until I can trust you. I’ll know before you when that time comes.”
He closed the door, and she sat in the dark room. She listened and waited to see if he was coming back. Then she got up and quickly investigated the chain to see if there was any way to get out of it. She tugged and pulled and fiddled. It was a heavy bed but she pulled so hard she moved it slightly and it grated along the floorboards. She caught her breath in fear that he may have heard. She waited in terror. But he didn’t come.
She tried to retrieve her white dress on the floor, but it was just out of reach. She crawled into bed and put the covers over herself. The blanket, the sheets, the pillows, everything smelled of him. She couldn’t get away from him. Especially now that she had earned the dubious honour of sharing his bed. She would have to keep coaxing him, until he trusted her enough that she could get away. She had to get out of this. She had to get back to her family, or live long enough that they could find her and take her home.
She thought about the other girls, and wondered where they were, if they were dead, if they were still here somewhere. His words went over and over in her head. She began to cry slowly.
Chapter 9
It was very late when she saw the bedroom door open and he walked in. He didn’t take any care to be quiet or considerate. He even switched the light on for a moment while he fiddled around, then he turned it off again. She felt him get into bed. He lay behind her, and pressed his thighs and belly close to her, putting his arm around her and feeling her warm breast. She moved slightly, but he wanted her to stay in that position. He just lifted her upper thigh, and pushed into her warm pussy. He kept her lying on her side, into him, spoon-fashion, while he slowly poked her in an upwards motion. He only went for a few minutes then was too tired and stopped. But he seemed content to lie with those parts still touching and stayed snug against her, till she felt him falling asleep and he turned over.
* * *
“I like having you with me during the night,” he said the next morning. He was trying to have sex with her.
“I have to pee,” she said.
“You can have some of this first.”
“Don’
t! I have to get up,” she said more firmly than she had thought possible with him, and pushed against his shoulders.
“All right! Jesus Christ,” he said.
He went with her into the bathroom and stood yawning and rubbing his face, while she sat on the toilet. A little pee dribbled out, and dripped into the water beneath her. He went and stood between her legs, pushing them apart, and tried to pee between them. His morning erection made it difficult and he sprayed piss over her leg. She wiped it off with toilet tissue.
“Can I have a shower?” she asked getting up and flushing.
“I don’t feel like standing around,” he said. “Unless you want to give me a massage?”
She decided to accommodate him, for the sake of a shower. She didn’t know when she’d be lucky enough to get another one. As she was adjusting the warm water he grabbed her from behind, swaying with her, putting his fingers in her mouth, and leaning in on her a bit so his hard prick pushed against her bottom.
“Are you going to let me fuck your ass again?” he said sliding his hand gently around her throat, and pressing his lips to her cheek. “Hmm? Are you going to let me fuck your ass?”
Her heart went hot and tight. She blinked rapidly, trying to think what to say or do. It messed her up badly last time.
“Get your shower, Nicole. I’m not going to hurt you,” he said with a strange sensibility.
He let her shave her legs and armpits, and then forced her to let him shave her more intimate areas. She was scared he was going to cut her by accident, or deliberately if she made him angry. It was a relief when he was done. He let her finish her shower while he stood and watched. Then he took her back to the room.
She was kept in there for hours on end. She just lay there doing nothing, waiting for when he would come and use her. Every time he had sex with her she felt something would rupture inside and she would die. He seemed trying to expend his desire for her in violent excess.
She was so defeated and tired she hardly put effort into trying to win him over. She didn’t sleep well. He had spasms through the night. Sometimes he thought he had heard something and would make her listen, but she could never hear anything. Other times he would get up in the middle of the night jabbering about all the noise. He would go and investigate. Sometimes he wouldn’t come back for half an hour.
Nights were what he seem to dread the most. He would have moments where he was upset, frighteningly upset, and would cling to her, muttering things she couldn’t piece together, even sobbing that he needed someone to pray for him. She would hold him, and speak soothingly. Her pity and sympathy was as hard as stone, its deepest motive was hate of him.
She had to be careful he didn’t choke or beat her when he had an episode. He was incoherent. He was always extra harsh the following day. If she put her fork down too heavily, or looked at him the wrong way, she would get smacked across the head or pinched on the breast.
She was beginning to feel as if she wasn’t human anymore.
* * *
She was on the bed on her side, plucking at a loose thread on the pillow in the dark when he came in and switched on the bedside lamp. He got her to lay on her back, sitting on the edge next to her. He spread her legs and bent over her pussy, and after a long look at it, with the deepest admiration, he rubbed his hand over her smooth flesh.
“I prefer shaved,” he said. He rubbed her for a while. Then he positioned her on all fours. She didn’t resist. Knowing what would happen, knowing how it would be. He spread her ass cheeks and licked the tight hole. She wished he would leave it alone. He stood up and was fiddling with something on the bedside table. She looked around to see what he was doing.
“I’ve got some olive oil,” he said, and she could see that he was slicking up his dick. He held her hips again, and pressed it against her. She tensed up. She felt the head of his dick push tightly against her ass.
“Don’t!” she cried. She tried to turn over, but he pushed her forward onto her belly, and pinned her down on the bed.
He bent over her, and said sympathetically, “I’ll go easy this time. You just have to get over that first bit of pain then it feels good, baby. Trust me.”
She was struggling under him, but couldn’t get up, and in a sobbing, pitiful tone, said, “Please. Don’t. I can’t.”
“Just try it, baby, please.” She shook her head, and he gripped her hair. “You know I’ll hurt you, then do it anyway. Don’t fight me!”
He pulled her up onto all fours, and she reluctantly stayed in that position. Her chin was down on her chest and she was clenching her teeth, trying to stay silent. She bit her lip when she felt the pressure of his cock against her ass.
“Right from when I was a kid, I always wanted to fuck a girl in the ass,” he said pressing his cock against her, forcing its head inside her. The pressure was intense. He kept pushing forward and said, “Just let it happen.”
He ran his hands over her back, and applying constant pressure, succeeded in shoving his prick halfway up her ass, and she moaned agonizedly. She felt she’d be split apart. “Oh, baby,” he sighed. Gripping her tightly to him, he rammed fiercely into her and went all the way in. She choked on a stifled scream. Firmly lodged inside her, he kept his prick up to its roots in her smarting ass and lay motionless on her for a moment until she stopped crying.
“Just relax. It’s up inside you.” He held her tightly, and pressing her to him till his chest was flat on her back, he passionately kissed her neck and shoulders, moving inside her. He reached his hand around between her thighs, feeling her pussy, teasing her clit. The pain of his movement became too much.
“It hurts—you’re hurting me,” she cried and tried to move forward and dislodge him, but he held her hips and compelled her to remain impaled on his prick.
“Just relax. “You’ll get accustomed to it soon. Just relax.” He was pushing deeper and deeper. He was opening her, pushing her apart as wide as she’d go. His fingers kept tickling her clit. But she couldn’t relax. She shut her eyes tightly, as the sobs escaped quietly from her lips.
He got upright and put his hands on her back then held her hips, beginning to move, slowly pumping into her with short strokes. Almost every thrust forced from her a grunt, a groan, or a breathless gasp. The pressure was intense, as if he was pressing all the way up her bowels into her breast.
“Ah! Ah! Ah!” she cried as she felt herself being genuinely fucked. He was shoving furiously in her, with rapid and uneven shoves and thrusts, loosening her up. He was moving more forcibly, but staying deep. He seemed to lose control of himself. He was frigging her quickly, and he was whispering and gibbering. “Oh, you’re killing me. Oh, you’re fucking killing me.”
Then he lay motionless on her back, breathing heavily, and had a kind of fuck-break. Her distended ass was throbbing and stinging from his lodged dick.
“Try it this way,” he said, trembling. He slowly pulled out, and she nearly collapsed. He took her in his arms and lay on his side, taking up a position from which he could enter her from behind. He held her elbow and put it round behind his head. “Put your arm around me,” he said. “Kiss me, fucking kiss me.”
He gripped her upper thigh and lifted her leg so he could get his cock into her ass again. It went in with very little difficulty, and he shoved his prick all the way up. Her naked quivering body was closely pressed to his and he stayed motionless, revelling in the warmth of her interior. After a few circlings over her belly, his hand slid quietly over her breast. He squeezed it gently, tonguing and kissing her. His hand slid down and touched the fold of flesh between her thighs. He lifted her leg again. It wasn’t as painful now, but occasionally there was a sting, and she gave a small moan.
“Does that hurt a little bit?” he said, slowly thrusting in and out of her ass. She stayed passive in his arms, not seeing a thing. The hand of his arm pinned beneath her was gripping and squeezing her palpitating breasts. His other hand kept her leg up. He was pushing his dick in and out of her ass so deep
. She shut her eyes tight, as he thrust harder, holding her leg up, hitting her with repeated thrusts and making their flesh slap together with the violence of them. “I’m going to come in your ass,” he said, panting. “Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!” He stayed deep giving sharp spasmodic shoves, and she felt the spurts of his come shoot into her bowels. She went unconscious with the intensity.
When she became conscious again, she found herself still lying with him and clasped in his arms, his prick still lodged in her ass. For some seconds they both lay silent and motionless, except for an occasional tremor. He was utterly absorbed in the pleasure of having come in her, and she didn’t dare move.
Clasping her closely to him he whispered, “You were a good girl that time, baby, a good girl.”
He pulled out and she lay on her belly, letting him inspect her tortured ass. He spread her ass cheeks, and ran his finger over the sore part. She could feel that she was gaping, convulsing. Then he lay on her, settling down. “Did I hurt you?” he asked.
She whispered back, “A little at first, but not so much afterwards.”
“Did you like it?”
She suddenly couldn’t pretend any more. She shook her head, and covering her face in her hands she burst into tears. He lifted her limp, sobbing body into his arms, making her straddled his lap.
“It’s okay—it’ll be better next time. You just gotta get accustomed to it,” he said. Her arms were hanging at her sides, and her face lay in the crook of his neck. One of his hands stroked her naked bottom and hip. “Have you ever fantasized about being with two guys? Sucking your boyfriend while his friend fucks you from behind?”
She opened her eyes and stared at the wall behind him. Her slightly parted lips were pressed against his sweaty shoulder. She could still feel him stroking her back. She was afraid of where he was going with this. “Nicole?” he said.
