I squirmed. They? I was aroused from his teasing but I was in knots with the fear of my future, my fate. What exactly did he keep referring to? They? My future? What was going to happen to me?
He sat back up but straddled me, sitting down on me, and gazed into my eyes, pausing to let me calm down, to relax. I had literally started to pant. The question was: Was it out of fear or was it because of lust? He stroked my cheek and my lips, as he looked intently into my eyes.
"Such beautiful, blue eyes. Emotional. Don't be afraid. Hard to believe that you're related to…to them." He emphasized the last word with a bite of disgust in his voice. And he rose, positioning his long body by my side.
He began to run his fingers up and down my body, finding my erogenous zones as I moaned and quivered under his touch. "Not one for poker, I can imagine," he joked. "I can read your body like a book," he said. "You will want to be careful about that when other men touch you."
I cringed but not for long.
He tickled up and down my body, pausing in between my legs to brush my sex lightly and stopping when he could see I was getting too aroused. "Oh, Imogen. You are going to make a wonderful slave. You will be so easy to control," and with that, he spread my pussy lips open with one hand and began to tickle the insides of my folds with the other. He found a little sweet nub I had never known existed in me, only heard about, and lightly twirled a few fingers around it, delicately, gently, sweetly.
I could feel my whole body tightening, building up to a crescendo. I began to tense, my breathing erratic, fearful, excited, out of my control, something I had never felt before. My body burned all the way up to my ears. What was happening to me?
"You are quite receptive. You are ready to have your first orgasm, Imogen. Do you feel what your body is doing? How it's changing? The beautiful and blissful rise to the unknown that you can’t control, that you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to, like tipping over a waterfall?”
"Yes." I panted. And then, involuntarily, guiltily, "No."
He laughed and stopped. And I felt a pain so intense, a torture so excruciating, I began to cry, pulling on my binds frantically.
"These sensations are new for you. Sssh. Calm down. Relax. I want you to enjoy it. I want you to be wet and ready and open for me when I penetrate you. Your first time feeling cock will be slightly painful, and I'd like it not to be. The wetter you are, the better it will be for you."
He paused. My pulse slowed a bit again as I tried to force myself to find my equilibrium. I wanted to scream and cry and I wasn't sure if it was from lust or anger. How many women had he done this to? How had he become so skilled at exploring the female anatomy?
He continued, "I will let you come before I penetrate you. But you need to embrace it, enjoy it, let it happen. I know this is new for you. It makes you feel vulnerable, I'm sure, but you can't worry about that anymore. Enjoy it while I let you. There will be plenty of times when I deny you this beautiful release. Just like I did right then. I can take it away as fast as I give it. Remember that. Remember how you feel right now. I am in control of it. You are mine," he repeated again.
He began to stroke my pussy lips again, lightly, teasingly. It tickled and turned me on so much I couldn't stop writhing. I wanted to beg him to go back to that swollen piece of flesh he so expertly manipulated. I wanted to climb that precipice again. I wanted to fall over it, but he wasn't letting me yet. I was about to beg, but for what exactly, I really didn't know.
"Stay still," he said. "You're making my cock too hard. How many times do I have to tell you? I don't want to hurt you tonight."
God. He was so sensual as if I were his lover, a lover that he actually cared about. But I wasn’t. I was his slave, his war spoils. It just didn't make any sense that he should be kind to me. He made it very clear that he hated my people. And he enjoyed watching me squirm. It made him hard. That much was clear. Somehow that scared and excited me at once. What was my new life going to entail?
He stuck a finger inside of me, and I squealed in delight, involuntarily. This was the very first time I had anything in me…there. He curled his finger and then lengthened it over and over inside of me, and I felt that build again, that sweet tightening. I was panting again, squeezing his finger with the inside of my body involuntarily, trying to lift my hips. I was climbing, climbing, climbing to some indescribable feeling. I moaned and from somewhere deep down inside of me, I heard, "Sir, please…please…Sir…please." I was not myself. I was not in control of what I was saying or doing. I was possessed.
"You are so tight. Mmmm."
"Please." I didn't even recognize my voice. I was having an out-of-body experience. All reality faded into the background.
He continued with his slow, deliberate torture and took his other hand and began to stroke my pleasure point again, circling the nub, my clitoris, tickling it, and I screamed out, suddenly tipping over, diving off, crashing into his fingers violently. "Oh, god!"
"Aaah. You are having your first orgasm. You like it, don't you?"
I squeezed my muscles and shook, and he stopped when he felt my body go limp. I was sweating and spasming a bit as my body came down from the most excruciating pleasure I had ever felt.
I looked down to find him naked, hovering over me, predatorily, intimidatingly. I grew scared now that my body had found that release. I was back in the now, realizing what I had done.
"Don't be scared," he said. "I am not done with you. Not by a long shot. Calm down, and we'll begin again."
Again? Was he crazy? I couldn't repeat that feeling, at least not right then, could I? Oh god. How could this be happening to me?
He began to kiss my body. He started at my neck and rained light, feather-soft kisses down my throat and chest, around my nipples, over my belly, down the inside of my thighs and calves and repeated over and over until I was squirming and moaning all over again.
He laughed at me, but not in a cruel manner, in a content way, a satisfied way. I blushed and just wanted to hide and crawl under the covers.
He continued to trail his kisses. "You are truly divine," he breathed onto my skin. "I am going to enjoy deflowering you. You are going to enjoy it too. You're going to want me to give it to you every day, and I am going to revel in it."
"Stop," I moaned, but even I didn't believe me.
He kissed my nipples as his hands found my pussy lips again. He played with my pleasure spot and now I knew the signs and the exquisite feeling that was building, and I wanted it so bad I knew I might to anything to feel it again. My anticipation was mounting, my breathing out of control. I wanted it. More importantly, I needed it.
"I want you to feel my control, my slave. I will take you to the edge, and I will take it away. This is your new life. Mine to control. Feel it."
I wanted to beg, I wanted to scream out. I hated myself for wanting this. I held back my tears of frustration as he coaxed me to the edge of orgasm over and over, stopping short.
"How does this feel?" he asked.
"Please."
"You didn't answer me," he said with a menacing edge to it. "Answer me."
I struggled. I was close to having that exquisite release again. He held me there, on the edge. "I want…" I tried to speak. "I want…to feel…that…no…I want you to stop!"
And he stopped all contact. "That did not answer my question. Answer me. Imogen, you need to learn to obey me. Your life may come to depend it."
I struggled to find my words. I was so flushed, so hot, so full of need and humiliation. I was lost, dazed. "It feels both heavenly and tortuous. I am so scared and so aroused. Why are you doing this me? Please. I don't know what I feel in all honesty. I just know I want to feel that rush again, and at the same time, I want you to stop. I want to feel an orgasm again. And I don't want to want it." I sobbed, defeated.
"That's a good slave. That's a good, honest answer, Imogen. I can imagine your contradictions of feelings. But, I am going to take away your virginity now. You can yell and be
as loud as you need to be this time. And I will be gentle and slow and you will get to orgasm again. This I promise."
He positioned his body over mine, as I closed my eyes. I tensed up. I was nervous.
"It's okay. Let me in. Relax."
He pushed the head of his erect cock slowly into me. And then pushed half the length of his shaft into me, slowly, gently, and then back out again. I opened my eyes to watch in fascination. It hurt and it felt unbelievable at once. My ache still lurked but his penetration eased it some. My intense longing was being satiated as he dipped in and out of me, slowly, deliberately. I wanted more but didn't dare ask. I wanted to pretend I didn't want it as desperately as I truly did.
"Do you like it?" he asked.
How could I admit what I was feeling? I was a prisoner of war. I was humiliated that I was liking this. "Yes," I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut again.
"Good. So do I. You are hot and tight, and I want to really feel you. I am going to go a little faster."
He sped up. Oh my god. I felt that feeling again, that warm flush of deep need, burning deep in my belly and between my legs. It hurt so good.
"Sssh. Calm down."
I hadn't realized that I was screaming, yelling, garbling out "Sir" and "Please," like an animal in heat. How could I be acting like this?
He stopped and began to untie me. What? No! He was done? What happened? My eyes started to water.
"Bend over," he commanded.
Oh no. I was worried suddenly. He sensed it.
"Imogen, on all fours. I am not going to hurt you. You will enjoy this. "
I just complied. What was the point of thinking? I had no choice.
I hung my head down as I positioned my ass in the air for him.
"Lovely," he smiled and began to stroke my ass, delicately stroking between my cheeks, finding moisture from the front of me. Oh my god, it felt good and felt dirtier than I could ever possibly feel. I squirmed and tried to position his hand into my dripping, hot sex and away from where I thought he was going.
He just laughed warmly. Those contradictory emotions welled up inside of me again. “Don’t worry, not yet. When and if I want you there, I will have you.”
My body tensed and shivered.
“Stop it, Imogen. There is nothing you can do but enjoy yourself. And you are, enjoying yourself. Don’t you smell yourself? Don’t you see how wet you are? Don’t fight it. I need to know everything about you sexually. Trust me.”
I whimpered involuntarily as he continued to stroke between my ass with one hand. He placed his cock in his other and gently rubbed the tip of his cock, front to back over my pussy lips, across my dripping slit. He stroked it against my swollen clitoris that he had teased so mercilessly. I moaned, long and loud.
He stopped and said, "Kneel up."
Oh god. Now what? But I did, willingly at this point.
He fondled my breasts as he knelt his body behind me, his chest against my back. His hot breath kissed the back of my neck. He kissed and licked my neck and began to lightly pinch my nipples. Goosebumps appeared all over my body. I writhed, the slight pain of his pinches arousing me. I needed to feel that release again. I had never felt any of these feelings before. It was painful and beautiful and humiliating at once. I wanted to beg him, and I couldn't bring myself to do it.
"Go ahead," he said as if clairvoyant. "Beg me. I quite like to hear it."
His fingers continued to pinch my nipples, and I continued to squirm. I grabbed his strong, tan forearms to try to get him to relent, but even with all my strength, I couldn't remotely remove his hold on me. The notion of his strength sent desire jolting down to my sex. No! I yelled in my head.
With one hand he alternated between my breasts, and with his other, he stroked my clit. Oh dear god. I couldn't take it anymore.
"Please," I just lost all sense of myself. "Please . . . Sir."
"Please what?" he teased.
I was heaving, panting, writhing. And he relented. He bent me back over so I was back on all fours and he gently pushed his cock inside of me, tickling my clit, tortuously, not moving a muscle.
"Please." This time I screamed and this time I meant it. I knew exactly what I was begging for. In and out, hard then slow, then fast and hard, and I squeezed and tensed and accepted his assault. I screamed out in pure pleasure as he put one hand on my waist and the other on my clit. I built up and up and yelled out, "Yes. It's happening again. I'm there! Oh please!"
I convulsed on his cock as I orgasmed, once, twice, three times, over and over it seemed. Tears were streaming down my face. A trickle of blood flowed down my legs. I had been deflowered. I had been fucked. I had been used. And I shuddered to think at how much I loved it.
I felt him tense and then felt a hot stream over my ass and lower back, as I looked back to see thick, white cum shooting out of his cock. I looked into his dark, brown eyes, and he smiled at me. For a moment, I felt loved, and then I remembered where I was, what I was, and what he was, and I collapsed on the bed, crying into a ball.
He crawled around me. "Hey…you okay? Did I hurt you? You're bleeding," he said, stating the obvious.
I was so humiliated; I couldn't even look up and curled tighter. "Of course I'm bleeding. I was a virgin for Christ's sake!"
"Not anymore," he stated plainly. "And never speak to me in that tone of voice again, Imogen. I will let it go this time. But don't you dare ever do it again. I will not warn you again."
I began to cry and somehow the words, "I'm sorry," slipped from my lips.
"It's okay," he said. And he held me. It was so strange, so unexpected. He had basically raped me and yet he was tender, almost loving. I remembered the scene I had witnessed with the other women, and the torture they were enduring. I shook and realized my fate was somehow…lucky.
A knock was heard at the door. "Erik. You in there? We have a…situation."
He stood up and threw his bottoms back on. He went to open the door as I watched his back muscles flex and stiffen. "What is it Stephen?" He spoke authoritatively.
"We have found an enemy. We need your…um…expertise."
"I will be right there." He looked from me to the man named Stephen. Stephen smiled wickedly at me, and I shook with a vile sickness in the bottom of my gut that sent out flashing warning signs to my brain. Just what did he mean, expertise? And my stomach turned to even tighter knots.
Erik turned to me. The gentle look he had shown me in his eyes was replaced with something like anger, hatred. He spoke as he dressed. "There is food in the kitchen. After you take a bath to clean up, prepare us a meal. I will see you when I return. There are guards everywhere and much crueler men than I. I would stay put if I were you. I can't protect you at all times, and I won't if you disobey me. Do you understand? I am extremely serious right now. I'd like to come back to find you safe, to find you…unharmed."
"Yes," I whispered and trembled at the reality of my situation.
"Good," he paused, buttoning up his shirt, peeking at me through the hair that had fallen in his face. "Are you okay?" He paused slightly as I squeezed my legs together tightly, embarrassed. "Expect to be sore."
Was I okay? Like he cared. How to even begin to answer that? I just shook my head in a yes nod to say that I was, indeed, okay, even though I was anything but.
He sat down on the bed in his uniform and his face softened a bit, as he ran his hands through his hair with a look of confusion and kindness in his eyes. He sighed long and hard. "Imogen, I am of a very high rank, as I'm sure you've gathered. However, I am not the highest ranking official here. And you must remember, you are seen as our enemy, our prisoner, unfortunately, mostly as a whore. Do not forget that. Not everyone will show you the same latitude as I might. I am sorry to leave you right now. But I must. We shall eat when I return. I will enjoy seeing your talents in the kitchen. Don't disappoint me."
And he left me on the bed and exited without looking back at me. I drew myself into a tight ball and cried.
> All I heard out into the night air was arguing between men. I heard Erik, the man who had deflowered me, the man I called Sir only minutes before, faintly, "Well…taking all their clothes away was not the smartest idea. They might catch the death of them, for god's sake!"
I heard a chuckle. "And…So what if they do?"
I trembled, as I forced myself to walk out into the kitchen to see what I might make for dinner. I would bathe first and then I would do exactly as he instructed. What choice did I have?
Chapter Two: CORRUPTED
When he returned, I was stirring a chicken soup I had made, shivering, worried if he would be as gentle towards me as he had been before, and if my cooking would please him. I had wrapped a sheet around my body, having no clothes of my own.
When he didn't come into the kitchen, I found him seated in a brown leather chair in the living area, his head held in his large, competent hands. He did not rise when I entered, and I froze, wondering if I should speak or not. I noticed blood on his hands and wondered what in god's name it was from.
Finally, his gaze found mine, and I saw a deep sadness behind his eyes. He spoke, breaking the uncomfortable silence between us. "Please go run me a bath, Imogen," he said slowly, trailing his eyes up and down my covered body. "Remove the sheet. You are not allowed to cover yourself at any time. I understand it must feel humiliating, but you are a slave now, Imogen. You are not allowed to do anything you're not instructed to do. They will want you naked, at their mercy, at all times." His body shifted. "I also happen to enjoy looking at your body. I haven't seen one so perfect in my entire life."
My feet kept me in place. He said things that made my belly twitch and tighten and yet, he was my captor, aloof and hard to read. I couldn't help but think of what would happen if I chose to disobey him.
When I saw him glare at me, I slowly removed the sheet that had given me some comfort. Any thoughts of disobeying this intimidating man vanished. I turned to go run his bath. I paused, "I made a soup, Sir. Do you mind if I turn it to simmer while I draw your bath?"
THE IMOGEN SERIES BOXED SET PART I: (Books 1-4) Page 2
