by Paul Blades
Trembling, her heart sinking, Anna moved her hands slowly from behind her back to above her head. She watched as Vincent locked each of her wrists in the handcuffs. When she looked up, she saw that although the chain could easily be released where it was connected to the dark oaken headboard above her, the fact that her hands were locked low near the ring at its base meant that she could never reach it. She gave out a whine as she saw how securely she was imprisoned on the bed.
Vincent disappeared for a moment more and returned with another length of chain. Reaching underneath her, he connected one end of the chain to the link in the middle of her handcuffs and ran it below her, under her breasts and down between her legs. The chain formed an inverted ‘Y’ and at each end of it was a bright, shiny, steel manacle. Anna whined when she felt her ankles encapsulated by them.
Vincent retreated from the bed and stood for a moment admiring his handiwork. Anna was panicked at her now helpless state. Her rear was proffered deliciously and the confinements on her ankles prevented her from extending her legs. Her hands were joined together in front of her, her elegantly decorated fingers inches from the head board. She tested the bonds, pulling at them sharply. They made a metallic rattle. The sound was harsh, cold, and bespoke the futility of struggle. She turned her head, whining her dismay, fully expecting to see a cane in the man’s hand. Was she going to be beaten now? “Oh, god, please no!’ she thought desperately.
But the man did not have a cane in his hand. Instead, he had a narrow, black cloth. Near the middle were two rounded indentations. It was a blindfold. Anna’s belly turned over when she saw it. She was to be returned to the helpless darkness she had experienced that morning, a time that seemed like eons ago. She wanted to cry out in protest, but she knew that the man would pay her plea for forbearance no mind. Not to mention that her muffled mouth would only be able to produce a grotesque simulacrum of speech. She moaned nonetheless when he crawled up back onto the bed and placed it over her eyes. After he had tied it off behind her head, he told her coldly, “Put your head down on the mattress and spread your legs.”
Sniffling, her body trembling with fear, Anna placed her head between her outstretched arms and pushed her ankles as far apart as the 18” of chain between them permitted. Her breasts were squeezed against her thighs and her chin rested between her knees.
“Stay like that until Mr. Devlin comes,” the man ordered. “You’ve already earned a dozen strokes of the cane. If you continue your disobedience, I’ll think of something more painful to whip you with.”
Anna sobbed at the threat. What could be worse than the cane? Her mind reeled with the dreadful possibilities. She decided that she would not do anything that would make her find out.
Anna’s body gave an involuntary jump when she heard the door close. The room descended into a deep silence. She gave out a fierce, mournful moan of self pity. “Oh god! Oh god! Oh god!” she exclaimed to herself. The darkness and silence surrounded her like a suffocating blanket. The only real sensations were the harsh coldness of the steel bonds around her ankles and wrists. The chain that ran from her handcuffs to the manacles around her ankles pressed into her forehead. She chewed unhappily on the large wad of insulting, demeaning fabric that filled her mouth, desperate to expel it, but made no effort to do so, knowing full well that if somehow she managed it, there would be a terrible retribution. Her mind reeled with the vision of how she would appear to Devlin when he entered the room, her pussy peaking out from her widened thighs, her rear posed in obscene presentation. She wanted to cry out to someone to help her, to free her from the implacable confinements that Vincent had placed upon her and which rendered her, for all practical purposes, immobile. She thought of the clip above her that held the chain that was connected to her wrists. Anyone could come in and easily free her. But she could not free herself, could not lift her hands more than a few inches from the mattress. She shifted her hands slightly and was rewarded only by the dreadful rattle that they made.
Anna’s sobbing soon faded into a dismal, hopeless state of fear. She hated her powerlessness, her reduction to a plaything for the heartless millionaire, her grotesque, demeaning confinements. How long would she have to wait before he came into the room and took advantage of her helplessness? His stiff, thick cock would pierce her proffered love lips. He would make her moan and shake with passion. She was filled with self detestation at the memories of how he had driven her to lust so many times in the last two days, how she had obsequiously sucked his cock and spread her thighs for him.
The waiting was the hardest part. When he finally came into the room and commenced his torment of her flesh, she would suffer shame and humiliation at her responses, rue her inability to prevent her desires from overflowing. But waiting, knowing what would happen once he put his hands on her, made her stomach churn, her heart ache with sorrow.
Anna had no way of telling how long it was when she finally heard the door opening. It seemed a long, long time, time that was spent by her in dreadful apprehension of the man’s appearance but also in a lust driving anticipation of her upcoming use. All sensations of sight and speech denied her, her mind kept returning to her opened sex behind her and the use to which it would be put.
The heavy door deadened all sound from the hallway and she had not heard the man’s approach. She gave a start when the latch to the door turned and suppressed a sob. She heard Devlin’s footsteps cross the room and come to a halt at the foot of the bed. She felt his cold, hard eyes pouring over her naked, exposed rear. She expected to hear some taunt, some insulting reference to her sluttishness, her wantonness, but the man remained silent. The next thing that she heard was the sound of him stripping off his clothes, the light thud his shoes made when he kicked them off, the unfastening of his belt and the lowering of his zipper.
After a few moments, Anna felt the mattress shake slightly as the man crawled up onto it. She felt the heat of his body as he moved up next to her. She heard his heavy breath and smelled the manly odor of his flesh. A hand made contact with the taut, smooth skin of her back and slid gradually down it until it reached her plump, soft, rear mounds, caressing them. Slowly, with the confidence of ownership, it slid back up until it reached her shoulders. The hand felt hot on her skin and made her body tingle with expectation. She found that she was shivering and she yearned for the man to begin her torment, to take away the razor’s edge of anticipation. She was surprised when he finally spoke.
“You have a beautiful body, Anna,” he told her softly. “Your skin is smooth and hot. I’m going to enjoy owning you for a year. You’ve hidden your voluptuousness under your prim, social worker exterior, but you’re nothing more than a lusty slut. Have you been thinking about my cock while you’ve been waiting here, Anna? Is your pussy hungry for it?”
Anna heard the questions, loaded with contempt despite the soothing, gentle tone in which they were rendered. She struggled over her answer, knowing that if she refused to reply, even though her voice would be muffled and faint due to the fabric that filled her mouth, the erratic, unpredictable man might explode into fury. The heat of his hand had stirred her desires and she had felt the sensation of her cleft moistening. If she lied and told him no, he might add to her punishments. All he had to do was place his hand on her quim to discover her falsity. But by admitting her slavish yearning to be filled, wouldn’t she be admitting everything that he was saying about her, that she had always been a sluttish whore just waiting for someone to claim her?
Her heart breaking with shame, Anna decided to tell the truth. Her pussy did yearn to be filled. She had been thinking of his conscienceless cock all the while she had been kneeling here, prone and helpless.
Tears filling her blinded eyes, Anna murmured a disconsolate, “Eh, i-er e-in.”
“Good girl, Anna,” Devlin responded. His hand was still wandering her distended back. The sound of his genuine approval brought Anna a wave of relief. She felt like a burden had been lifted from her. Her wantonness was no longer
a secret. She had admitted it to her owner, her master, and to herself. She could give in to it now without remorse or shame. It was who she was, that’s all, and there was nothing to be done about it.
“I’m going to fuck you, Anna,” Devlin said gently. His hand drifted over the roundness of her buttocks and descended to the gap between her thighs. “I’m going to give you what you want and you’re going to moan and cry out with pleasure. You’re my whore now, Anna and I’m going to make the most of it.”
Devlin’s hand had passed over Anna’s needy crevasse and she gave out a soft sigh as she felt the strong, thick fingers tease its opening. Her whole mind was concentrated on the meeting point between Devlin’s body and hers: his insistent, rigid fingers and the outer surface of her proffered, near hairless slit.
“Raise yourself up a little bit, Anna,” Devlin told her. He slid his left arm under her torso and pushed her body up. She had to shuffle her confined feet forward so that she could straighten herself. Her hands were pulled down in front of her, limiting her ability to kneel straight, but she was able to rise far enough so that her heavy, blood filling breasts swung free.
“That’s it, Anna,” Devlin told her. “I want to caress your breasts.” He cupped her left mound and squeezed it gently with his free hand. His finger played across her stiffening nipple and then he pinched it lightly. He shifted his hand to her other breast and did the same, drawing a low moan from the confined, sightless woman.
“Do you like it when I play with your breasts, Anna?” he asked. “Does it make you hot, make your pussy water?”
His fingers had penetrated between Anna’s tingling, engorged labia. The invisible hands that were manipulating her flesh were stoking her needs. Each time Devlin pinched her stiffened nipples a wave of excitement flowed through her. The fingers of his right hand, buried in her pussy, teasing her nubbin of pleasure, had created a suffusing warmth from her loins that was spreading through her body.
“Eh, ih-er e-in,” she sighed through her filled mouth. Her effort at speech reminded her of how her face had appeared in the mirror in the bathroom, her lips spread and pursed like a fish, the wad of cloth distending them clearly visible. Was she still a human being? Did the cruel millionaire perceive any aspect of her humanity, her right to self determination, to preserve some part of herself, some remnant of dignity? She doubted it. But did she deserve any considerations for her individuality when she succumbed so readily to his demands, fulfilling his pernicious descriptions of her? Devlin gave her right breast a hard squeeze, sending a twinge of pain to her and she moaned with sexual excitement.
Devlin maneuvered himself behind her. She could feel his strong, muscular thighs on either side of hers. His hands reached around her torso and grabbed her breasts. His chest was hot up against her back and she could feel his hardened manhood, his meaty weapon, laying amidst the divide between her soft, rear globes. While his left hand continued to massage and squeeze her breasts, his right hand drifted over her belly, the inside of her widespread thighs. He ran his thick fingers along the separation between her engorged, excited love lips and then back over her thighs and belly again, driving the confined young woman’s passions to an intense need.
He kissed her neck and back as he explored her body. His hot tongue and lips brought a thrill to Anna’s skin. She pulled, involuntarily, at her bound hands below her in automatic need to seize and attenuate the hands that were tormenting her. She was being driven wild with desire, a desire liberated by Devlin’s scurrilous treatment of her.
Devlin retook possession of Anna’s plush, dilated quim and began to stroke her parted love lips, dragging two thick fingers along their divide and teasing and rubbing on her pleasure bud. Anna began to moan as she felt her lusts rising to a crest. Her breath had become heavy and her body was quivering in anticipation of her impending explosion. Devlin placed his mouth next to her ear. Through her lusty fog she heard him whisper conspiratorially.
“Have you ever been fucked in the ass, Anna?”
The nonchalance of his statement startled her. She hadn’t considered that use of her body and her mind revolted, amidst her impassioned fog, in silent protest.
“I’ll bet that you’d enjoy it,” Devlin continued in a deep, soft voice. “I’m going to fuck you there now. Do you want me to fuck your little brown star, Anna? Would you like that?”
A wave of trepidation passed through Anna at the man’s question. She had never been fucked there before. In spite of all that had happened to her in her youth, that was one indignity that she had not suffered. The thought of it appalled her, the idea of being used like a boy, her femininity ignored, a pathway chosen solely for the pleasure of her abuser. Through her impassioned state, her pussy yearning with the need of completion, she revolted at the man’s coarse, callous expression of his intent.
“Ooooooooh!” she moaned plaintively past the moist, demeaning mass of fabric in her mouth. “Eeeeeease ont! Eeeeeease!” She pulled desperately at the chain that bound her hands in place. “Eeeeeease ont ooo at, eeeeeease!”
“Oh, I’m going to fuck you there, Anna. I love ass fucking and we’re going to do a lot of it. Do you like being my whore, Anna? Did you think it was going to be like this?”
“Ooooooooo!” Anna moaned unhappily. Devlin’s hands were still tormenting her body, his hot torso pressed up against her. She tried to fight off the excitation that he was bringing her to no avail. He had withdrawn his hand from her pussy and was stroking her inner thighs and belly while massaging her breasts. She teetered on the edge of explosion. Her blinded vision, the darkness that surrounded her, made it seem that her tormented flesh and the hands and body that were exciting her were the only things in the world.
“You know that you are a whore, Anna, don’t you?” Devlin continued to taunt her. “A whore gets paid for sex. You’re getting paid to fuck me. That makes you a whore. An expensive one, but a whore nonetheless. You are a whore, aren’t you Anna?”
Anna burned with shame as she realized the truth of what Devlin was saying. She was a whore. “…es! …es!” she moaned miserably.
“If I fuck you 10 times a week for a year, Anna, that makes about 500 fucks. At $225,000 that makes it over $400.00 a fuck. That’s fair, isn’t it? For 400 bucks I should be able to do anything that I want, shouldn’t I?”
The truth of Devlin’s perverse calculations was self evident. Anna could do nothing but moan at the thought of submitting to the millionaire’s coarse, insistent demands over 500 times. But the thought that he was about to perform an act upon her she considered perverse and illicit permeated her mind. She rejected his salacious equation. “Eeease ont uck eee ere! Eeease!”
“Oh, its coming, Anna. I’m going to fuck your pretty little ass and there’s nothing you can do about it,” Devlin answered. His hand had resumed its torture of her quim and Anna could not prevent a moan of pleasure escaping as her clit reverberated at the callous man’s touch.
“First, I’m going to get my cock good and wet, Anna. Bend over and give me your tight cunt to fuck.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders and forced Anna to resume her prone posture. He pulled her knees back until the chains that confined her ankles were stretched to their limit. Keeping one hand firmly pressing down on her back, forcing it into an arch, he took hold of his thick, rigid meat and guided it to her moist hole. He pushed his hips forward and his cock slid easily inside her puss.
Anna gave out a great sigh as she felt the hot prick pierce her sopping, needful divide. The rasping of it’s movements across her bud of pleasure made her body quake with need. Devlin fucked her with long, hard strokes. Her hands twisted in their confinement and she bit down hard on her messy, mouth filling gag. The callous man had kept her tottering on the edge of her orgasm and the relentless thrusting of his hard wand pushed her over the edge. “Ooooooooh! Ooooooooh! Ooooooooh!” she moaned as her pussy contracted hard on the insistent cock. Her body tightened into a compact mass as the pleasure of her pussy’s
spasms shot through her. Devlin’s hot hands were on her back wandering over her taut skin. She could feel his hips slapping against her firm, round rear globes. “Oooooooooh! Oooooooooh!” she moaned again.
Devlin slowed his thrusts as Anna’s orgasm faded. Her heart was pounding and she was snorting through her nose to catch her breath. “Good girl, Anna,” Devlin said. “You’ve got a nice hot, tight cunt. It’s a real pleasure to fuck it.” His cock’s movements within her were now languid and easy, giving her pussy small, sharp echoes of her climax. But while the cock’s torment of her sex slowed, it did not stop. Gradually, the pace picked up again and Anna’s passions began to burn anew.
“Here we go again, Anna,” Devlin said mockingly. ‘I’m going to get you all steamed up again and then I’m going to sink my dick in your ass. Get ready for it.”
Anna wailed at the man’s expression of intent even as the increase of pace of his thrusts within her pussy made her body yearn for more and more. “Uuuuuuummm! Uuuuuummmm! Ummmmmmmmm!’ she moaned as she felt her need grow hotter and hotter. His rock hard prick went on and on, scouring the walls of her canal, rasping along her hardened, tingling clit. Suddenly, the thick cock vacated her steamy space. She moaned and yanked at her bound wrists in protest. Devlin’s powerful right hand pressed her hips down, while his other spread her rear cheeks, readying his target. She felt the fat, bulbous head press against the virgin opening.
“Here it comes, Anna,” Devlin announced. He had taken hold of his piece and he pressed against the small, brown opening. “It’s going to hurt like hell, but you’ll get used to it.”
Anna gave a loud moan of dismay as she felt the head of Devlin’s cock begin to breech the entrance to her bowels. It slid along smoothly, coated by her cunt’s mucousy discharge. But its ease of passage did not assuage the tearing of the tissues that surrounded the tiny entrance and Anna howled behind her gag as the pain emanated from her delicate anal ring and coursed throughout her body.
