Only he was just about as enormous and immovable as a mighty Sequoia. I got maybe two inches of extra space out of it. Yet it was enough. I slithered to the side, and the water helped me escape, creating a slippery enough surface for me to wrench my wrists free. It wouldn’t have happened if not for him having already lowered his guard. Or so I thought.
I’d shoved myself to the side, turned, grabbed the rocks, and hefted myself up. Too late, I realized that he had planned this all along; had allowed me to wiggle free so as to better position me in the end.
Now I was half out of the water, half in, my torso bent over at the waist, my upper body and breasts smushed flat against the warm, gritty surface of one of the large, flat rocks at the edge, my lower body dangling down. And he was right behind me, holding me there with a fist in my hair.
“That’s it baby,” he growled as he tightened his left hand in my wet tresses while I helplessly struggled, “fight me all you want.” His other arm had somehow gotten wrapped securely around my waist. His stiff, hot rod was now riding the crack of my ass. I pushed up against the bank with my palms, thrashed ineffectually, yelled at him.
“You son of a bitch, let me go!” I screamed.
His knee shoved between mine, efficiently spreading them. Then he forced both of his legs between my thighs. Widening his stance, he wrenched my body further open. I was helpless now. I grabbed the rocks in front of me, used those pitiful handholds to try and leverage myself away. It was useless.
I was panting, breathless, the water dripping off of me in heavy rivulets. My breasts were wet, my slick chest was heaving up and down, and my erratic heart was smacking wildly against the backside of my ribs. Victor’s hand was pulling at my hair sharply, wrenching my head back, even more efficiently controlling me.
“You going to be a good girl?” he asked me.
“Go to hell,” I snapped. I could almost picture the smile spreading across his face, the smugness, the satisfaction. It was what he wanted. What we both wanted. He was about to forcefully and vengefully take me, battering the terrible angst and bitter agony right out of me. Also, quite importantly, the uncomfortable questions had blessedly ceased.
Victor slid his arm out from under my stomach then, simply using his body that was still thrusting up roughly against me, and his strong fingers that were still threaded securely through my hair, to continue to subdue me. But unexpectedly, his fist twisted in the sodden red strands so cruelly, I felt a white-hot pain along my scalp.
I shrieked, instinctively letting go of the rocks and reaching back to try and keep him from yanking harder. And that was exactly what he intended. Now, I was hanging over the damp rocks, dangling by his grip in my hair, both of my hands back behind my head and wrapped tightly around his thick wrist in futile desperation. At least that way I could support most of my own weight, thereby lessening the stinging, prickling twinges that were blaring out all along the abused roots of my long hair.
But now, both of my arms were effectively out of the way, and he was free to do whatever he wished. And what he wished was to spank me.
His hard, hot palm came down viciously against my taut, wet ass cheeks, and I screamed. He’d never hit my ass before, but he damn sure had spanked my pussy. This time it didn’t hurt that much either, not really, it mostly just stung. But it also made an erotic, sharp, slapping sound that echoed through the trees. Just hearing it got me as wet inside as I was out. My ass clenched in automatic reaction as he spanked me again, but my hands had to stay up at his wrist to keep him from pulling my hair too brutally.
I was completely subdued, controlled, conquered. And God, it felt so good. Suddenly, I realized what he was doing, what this whole, sordidly-sexual thing was honestly all about. Victor, quite certainly, knew about the appalling abuse. He knew I’d seen my Mom beaten by my Dad. He probably also was aware that there had been times he’d even turned that violent anger towards me. I knew Victor would never hit me in that way, never punch me, slap me in the face, or hurt me like what my Mom had endured. But what he was doing now was giving me a good, old-fashioned spanking. Truly the only semi-acceptable way for any person to ever be disciplined.
It didn’t make sense to me then, at that very moment, and it probably never would. But those two brief, sharp little whacks had somehow swatted the rest of those rancid cobwebs out of my mind. Victor was showing me that it was possible for a man to put his hands on a woman, perhaps even give her a tiny jolt of pain, but all for the purpose of pleasure, and only for the right reasons: out of love and respect, not out of anger and derision.
He was teaching me, in his own way, that there could be pushing, biting, spanking, pinching - and a whole lot else - without there being any “abuse”. He was letting me know that it was okay for me to get this physical, to be this way, to enjoy this kind of interaction, and that there wasn’t anything sick or wrong about it. He’d probably sensed this depraved need of mine all along, and had just understood that I’d had no real way to put a name to it, and no acceptable way to feed it. He’d been leading me towards an eventual resolution back then, in teeny-tiny little baby steps. But we weren’t dealing with baby steps any longer.
I know many victims of abuse - too many - that grow up and find lovers who whack them around and ridicule them, just like their fathers did to their mothers. But that inkling for self-castigation (an inkling that I had even shamefully sensed within myself), well, Victor was actually giving me a healthy way in which to wrench it out of the marrow of my soul. And I didn’t know whether or hate him for making me face up to it, or love him for showing me a way to escape it; all I knew was that I wanted him to fuck me right now, and I wanted it bad.
Victor’s grip in my hair loosened a little, and I was able to bring my arms back down finally. I started to prop myself back up on my hands, but he stopped me. “Don’t,” he commanded forcefully as he began to caress the sensitive ass-cheek he’d just dutifully spanked. “Put your hands behind your neck or I’ll spank you again.”
He let go of my hair and brought his left arm down to my waist. Clasping me around my slender stomach, he moved his hand up slowly and sensually until it was just under my sternum. Then he used that to support me, instead.
I did what I was told, putting my hands behind my neck and lacing my fingers together to help keep them there. He lifted me up a little bit further, then he reached his right hand up and around and began to squeeze my breasts. Tweaking the nipples sharply, one by one, he played with them almost ruthlessly until he had me moaning and squirming, rubbing my ass back and forth against his bare, hot torso. He pinched and twisted the left one until I screamed, then finally, he reluctantly let it go.
Next, he slowly and possessively rubbed his rough palm up against my throat, down across my breast, over the right side of my ribcage, and around to my back. He stroked up to my shoulders, across the back of my neck, and then all the way down the entire length of my spine, ending his weighty caress by firmly squeezing each ass cheek one by one. His left hand remained propped tirelessly against my sternum the whole time, holding me in place as effortlessly as if I weighed less than a sack of cotton candy.
I gasped then as he shockingly and unexpectedly dove his hand into the water, pushing it up between my spread legs and stroking my hot pussy. The water couldn’t hide the fact that my own moisture was dripping out of me. Victor rubbed my silken flesh, circling the rim of my opening over and over until I was practically screaming. When I couldn’t take even one more second of it, when I was about to buck and struggle from acute agony, he sensually and slowly pushed his index finger deep inside of me. He held it there, pinning me to the wall, then he slowly and seductively pulled it out. Again and again, in and out, he slowly fucked me with it.
I began to pant and tremble. I felt his cock start to throb where it was propped now against the outside of my thigh. I wanted to taste it. Suddenly, Victor pulled his finger out of me and then grasped my clit. Gripping it tightly, he started pinching it in a sinuously sadist
ic rhythm, quickly driving me close to orgasm. How was it that I was almost there? Almost ready to explode?
“What do you want?” he queried calmly. Oh God, how I wanted to see his face.
“You…I want you.”
“What do you want from me?”
“I ah, I want you to-to lick me. Please.” I was practically ready to weep now, so stumblingly unsure it was pathetic. He was once more in complete control. There was no doubt about that.
“You want me to lick you, huh?” he asked, his voice so strong and commanding. “Where?”
“Th-there,” I stuttered.
“No, you tell me where; where exactly. You tell me now.”
“My body. I want you to lick my body.” With that ambiguous reply, his fingers pinched cruelly and I gasped out loud. “My p-p-pussy. My clit. I want you to lick my clit and ta-taste me.”
He grunted in satisfaction before slowly lowering me down by my sternum. As I moved forwards, I reached down and caught myself on my palms. Victor lifted me up by my hips, turned me over. I went willingly. He physically positioned me on the edge of the rock. He was so tall, we were nearly at eye-level, but he sank down in the water until his face was between my thighs.
“Lean back on your hands and spread your legs wider,” he said. “Then put them over my shoulders.”
I did what he asked, leaning back and looking up at the tangerine sun. It was lower in the sky now, not nearly so hot, but still it warmed my skin, my breasts, my face. I shut my eyes as he positioned himself before me. But he said, “Look at me Tempest.” So, I did.
I watched him while he put his hands behind me, grabbed my ass, pulled me closer to him. I spread my legs and then draped them over his shoulders, watched with avid awe as his long, thick tongue came out and swiped me. “Goddamn you taste so fucking good,” he grunted, and his fingers dug harder into my ass cheeks. I knew his cock was getting thicker, harder, hotter. My mouth started to water.
“If you try to run away from me, I’ll catch you,” he said, then he kissed my thighs. “If you try to hide from me, I’ll find you,” he said then he swiped that long, thick tongue around the center of me until I moaned. “If you try to get away from me, I’ll tie you down,” he said before biting my lips hard, first one and then the other. I was writhing against him now, gasping for air. “If you turn away from me, I’ll take you,” he said into the depths of me before stabbing his tongue so deeply inside me, I had to bite my lips to keep from shrieking.
“And if you ever leave me again, I’ll fucking die,” he finished, before latching on to my pulsating clit and sucking it for all he was worth. I began to scream then, throwing my head back and frightening the birds out of the trees. He sucked and sucked, biting the twitching bud until I grabbed his head in desperation. Burying my fingers into his short-cropped hair, I tried to wrench his mouth away from me, but he just leaned into me and suckled harder, faster, more fiercely. He pulled my clit against his tongue in a mind-shattering rhythm, causing my entire body to jerk and shake. And then I began to cum.
My thighs started trembling, pussy clamping down as the cream gushed out of me and down his chin. My hips bucked, ass getting scraped on the rough surface of the rocks. I didn’t care. My legs tightened around Victor’s shoulders, drawing him into me as I screamed and thrashed. And he just kept on and on, his mouth working me as I wept and wailed.
How could someone make you cum so hard, the pleasure was so goddamn intense; it made you cry? It hardly seemed feasible. But Victor did it. He would torture me, sucking and licking and biting at me, drawing the agonizing orgasms out of me until I thought I was going to pass out. All those times he’d made me cum, though – all those sweaty, lengthy, hot nights from long-ago - only nothing had been like this.
I was screaming, out of my mind, grinding my pussy into his face. “Yes, yes, yes,” I shrieked although I was still trying desperately to pry him off me. Half of me was pulling him closer, the other half pushing him away. It was the conundrum of my life, and something I always would suffer from as long as I was with him.
Only today, my heart wasn’t in it – not today, anyhow. For this instant, for this particular fragment of time, it was blessedly just my body. So how would I take it, how could I possible make it through this, if he were to cause me to fall in love with him again first? I didn’t know if I could do it. It would simply be too much. But I didn’t have to think about that yet. All that mattered in this moment was getting him inside me.
“Fuck me, fuck me,” I begged, like a brazen, whorish harlot, going against everything I’d promised myself only hours before. This man whom I’d recently told that I hated, who I’d wanted to escape from, who I’d half-wished was dead, and now, I couldn’t get enough of him. The only way I’d be satisfied was when he was splitting me open. I had to have him. I had to have him now.
Victor suddenly let my tortured, pink flesh go, my clit popping free from his teeth with a slight sucking sound. I gasped when he finally released it, and the blood rushed into it and filled it up, causing it to swell and redden. I wanted him to pull me into the pool and thrust that monster into me, so when he lifted me up and pulled me towards him, I felt anxious relief flood through me. But instead of pulling me down into the water, he flipped me around and bent me face-first over the rocks again. Once more he was back there between my thighs.
“Wait, Victor, wait!” I yelled. He was just too damn big for me to take him from behind! I couldn’t handle it and he knew it. Sure, I’d wanted to be speared to the core mere moments ago, but not like this. We’d never done it like this before. And all I knew about sex from the rear was that in the doggy-style, as my girlfriends crudely called it, the man could penetrate much deeper than in missionary. The reality of that scared the shit out of me.
I struggled, but Victor pushed me flat, my breasts squishing uncomfortably against the warm rocks. “You’re too big, you’ll hurt me,” I garbled out, but he just put one strong hand on my back, holding me in place.
“Shhh,” he said forcefully. Then I felt him, felt his head pushing at my softness. His hard body was up against mine, pinning me to the rocks. My legs were dangling into the water, my ass was easily accessible. I put my hands back flat on the rocks and pushed myself against Victor’s palm, but I didn’t go anywhere. I tried to close my legs against him, but his thick thighs spread me, and his cock was beginning to spear into me now.
Suddenly, he leaned over top me, moving his hand off my back and up my spine, between my shoulder blades, then around my neck. He wrapped his huge hand around my throat and gently squeezed. “Settle down,” he said authoritatively. Then, his right hand forcefully and seductively caressed my ass cheeks, marking his property, staking his claim. A second later, his other hand tightened even more around my neck as he demanded, “Now, give it to me, baby.”
Those words shook me to the core. They were commanding, masterful, cold, hard. They brooked no argument. He didn’t want me to fight anymore. This was no longer a sensual game where I balked and he subdued me. He wanted me to freely submit to him. He wanted me to let him inside me, to let him force his enormous cock up into me, to take the pain and the invasion and accept it, willingly. Oh, Jesus.
I stopped squirming, stopped struggling, let my legs hang free. I felt my throat bobbing against his rough palm as I tried to swallow. I had no spit, none to speak of. My mouth was bone dry.
“That’s it,” he breathed as he began to move into me. My arms were out in front of me and I let them go limp, let my head hang down supported only by his hand around my throat. It cut off my air enough to make me dizzy, but I wanted that; needed it.
My heart was pounding in my chest. Why was this so intimidating to me, to be taken from behind? I guess because I was totally and completely submissive. Had no control, no power, no nothing. I was his.
He pushed his hips forward and his cock sank into me perhaps half an inch. I moaned. I felt his incredible girth, his wicked hardness. Felt it widening and stretching me. I wa
s so wet, so unbelievably damn wet from how relentlessly he had just pleasured me. My pussy was still spasming and clenching from the orgasms he’d just piled on and on. I could feel my inner walls twitching and clamping weakly against his rigid cock. It was so damn hot, so damn big, so damn conquering and invasive.
It was reaching up inside me so completely, once his cock possessed me fully, there’d be nothing of me left anymore. I was sure of that. I gulped back a sob as he began to move. He thrust it in me another inch or so, and I cried out. God, but it hurt. His right hand began to caress my ass again. “That’s it, baby, open up for me, give it to me,” he said from behind me, and the possessive and controlling nature of his words sent shivers down my spine this time. My hands clenched impotently, fingers digging into the rough rock. I felt sandy grit slide up underneath my fingernails.
He plunged further and I squealed, felt my pussy resisting, pushing against him, trying to thrust him back out of me. Only he was there to stay. He owned me now. He spread his feet and opened my legs wider, and I gasped. He began to work his cock back and forth. He was so big I thought I could even taste him, as if he was shoving his cock all the way up my pussy, through my stomach and into the back of my throat.
I began to grunt in concert with his thrusts, “Uhn, uhnh, uhnh,” as he worked himself back and forth, back and forth. Suddenly, he slapped my ass again. This time it turned me on even more than the last.
“I said open up, Tempest.”
Again, a sob. “I’m trying Victor, I’m trying!”
“No you’re not,” he said cruelly. “Not hard enough. Open that pussy and let me in!”
His voice rippled through every cell in my body. He truly did own every part of me. His rod was so huge it was impaling me, hurting me, ripping me open. But when he’d said that, when he’d told me so authoritatively to let him in; I’d felt something deep inside myself give.
Rapture Island (The Captive Bride, III) Page 6
