TW: BDSM (bondage, domination, sadism, masochism), simulated home invasion, consensual nonconsent (CNC), drug play, knife play (simblade), loss of virginity, humiliation, forced orgasm
The knock that sounded at the door was firm, indifferent — but Odette’s fingers were trembling so hard that she could barely manage to turn the knob.
Thoughts spooled through her mind in a dazed torrent as she wondered whether she’d straightened her sparse apartment enough. It was too late now, at any rate. She hadn’t expected the agency to pair her with someone so quickly, and her flat wasn’t prepared for company.
She hadn’t even had time to furnish the place; the barren eggshell walls and neatly stacked boxes looked even sadder under light from the forbidding Gothic sconces. They were the one touch of humanity about the place, apart from Odette herself. Terror trickled through her veins like icy touch of basilisk venom, threatening to paralyze her, but she mindlessly twisted the handle and pulled the door wide to admit her guest.
The corridor was even less welcoming than Odette’s own apartment; this was the sort of building that seemed like it had been half-forgotten even before it was designed, and the low space confronting her was barely wide enough for two to pass abreast.
Fluorescent ceiling panels guttered sickly in either direction, but the one just before her doorway was contrarily bright, illuminating Odette’s guest.
The man standing before her seemed both somehow younger and older than she was expecting. He was a full head taller than she was, and though his jaw was shaved a sheen of raven-black stubble shadowed his olive skin. It was a warm night, yet he seemed perfectly at ease in his black polo shirt and khaki trousers, lithe as a panther in the humid hallway. His face had the keen, hungry look of a hunter, and his molten obsidian eyes watched her from behind silver-framed spectacles.
The man drummed his fingers against the nylon strap of the messenger bag that hung taut against his chest. It was the branded cornea-searing lime of a well-known tech store; that was a touch of detail she hadn’t been expecting, even from an agency with such a sterling reputation as the one she’d finally chosen.
For a moment she swayed, dizzy with wondering if there had been some mistake, if this was the man she’d been told to expect at precisely ten o’clock. Then she saw the way his fingers bit down against the messenger bag’s strap, flexing with impatience, and knew she wasn’t mistaken.
A silhouette loomed through the flickering dim behind her visitor, and Odette instinctively drew back as she recognized the shape of Mr. Caputo, a dour man who lived two doors down. Usually he glared vipers at anyone unfortunate enough to find themselves in his path, but he hardly seemed to notice the dark man standing before her door, avoiding him with the same unthinking sidestep as one would a shadow.
The stranger only arched an eyebrow at her as she fell back, and she realized she had yet to invite him in. Her voice still wasn’t her own, so she simply took another pace back and inclined her head, and he nodded in greeting as he walked forward to join her.
Odette closed the door behind them, but her hand stuck to the knob as though frozen, even as she heard the man’s footsteps heading deeper into her kitchen. Her heart thudded against her ribs with nauseating force, yet still she couldn’t turn. This was the reason she’d come to a city college: to get away from small-town values and small-town minds. So why was she scared?
“Just moved in?” The man’s voice was a mead-smooth tenor, and Odette turned so quickly that her palm stung as she tore her hand from the doorknob. He was appraising the neat stacks of boxes, and she felt her face fill with color, remembering how she’d lovingly lettered each while sitting on the floor of her childhood home, dreaming of this exact moment.
She’d imagined her apartment would’ve been at least furnished by then; this felt gritty, dirty somehow for the haste. Yet the pretense the agency had chosen was perfect; the wireless hotspot had served her well during these first few days in her new home, but the fiberoptic hardline still had yet to be connected.
The man glanced at Odette and she realized she had yet to answer his question. “Y-Yes — just a few days ago.” The words emerged as a rasp, and she quickly moved to the sink and half-filled a glass of water, draining it just as quickly.
She was so certain he’d make his move then that the distant sound of his footfalls startled her as he wandered away, into her glorified cubicle of a living room. Her desk and chair had been the first things she’d set up upon moving in, and she watched him out of the corner of her eye as he surveyed her rig. It wasn’t much to look at — its battered case had seen better days, but even the deep scratches in the translucent violet plastic couldn’t occlude the thing’s gleaming guts. “This a streaming computer?”
Odette nodded, an unexpected smile tugging at her lips, and the man unsnapped the clasp on his satchel and rummaged inside the pack. He fished out a coil of something that was violently lime green and shone like plastic — and her brows knitted as he held it up for her inspection. “You’re going to need our premium hardline cable, then.”
Even from the kitchen Odette could tell that it was probably a simple ethernet cable; nothing about it was exotic save for the color. The transparency of the man’s lie was first galling, and then a rush of something hot shot through her thighs as he stared at her, his charcoal gaze utterly impassive. They both knew he was lying, of course — but she only nodded, and he knelt and unslung the satchel from over his shoulder, pretending to set to work on the router that rested on the dingy hardwood floor.
She watched him appraisingly as she slid the drained water glass into the better-than-nothing dishwasher. The agency’s assets were unimpeachably handsome, so she hadn’t reviewed his photograph ahead of time, yet evidently their battery of questionnaires hadn’t been for nothing. He seems slight, though … will he be able to hold me if I struggle?
The relatively outlandish nature of her tastes had cost extra; but then, she’d started working the day after her sixteenth birthday in anticipation of moving to the city. A few months later she’d had enough money set aside to purchase the experience she wanted, and now, more than two years after she’d first conceived of the notion, the night had finally arrived.
The man scrutinized the router, cradling it in his elegant fingers and turning it back and forth. Is it supposed to take so long?
She groaned aloud as she realized her mistake: He’s waiting for me! The call had come just after four — a last-minute schedule opening, did she wish to move up her reservation? — and a hundred times since then she’d repeated the words, promising herself that she wouldn’t forget. Now I’ve gone and done that exact fucking thing!
“I-I beg your pardon,” she stammered, “but might I have your name?”
The wording was strange, archaic — not the sort of thing a techie kid would say by accident, which was why she’d accepted it in the first place. The dark-eyed man was clearly prepared, though, because he looked up with easy grace, tossing the fringe of his coal-dark hair aside as he turned his chin toward her.
The corner of his sensuous lips compressed in the shadow of a smile — or perhaps it was a trick of the light, for when he stood his expression was as dispassionate as it had always been. Her heartbeat quickened as he walked toward her, abandoning his satchel beside the router, and tugged at the holo-ID clipped to the front pocket of his shirt.
The dark-haired tech didn’t look away from Odette as he held up the plastic card, gazing down at her from a distance that was slightly too close for true politeness. The gesture must be second nature to him, because his thumb aligned with the rectangular black pad on the ID’s reverse, and a three-dimensional construct sprang forth from the card, blossoming like an antimatter explosion of azure, emerald, and rose.
A electronic-flavored voice broke the silence, even the bass tones tinny from the compressed tech. “Jai Sassani.” The man himself repeated his name in that same deliberate tone, and Odette’s wristwatch blinked to life, displaying both audio signatures and turning green to verify the match.
The agency had sent her his voice print just minutes after disconnecting from their four o’clock call; regardless of whether the name was a pseudonym or his own, there was no doubt now that he was who he claimed to be.
The word conjured up images of burgundy taffeta ruffles edged with black lace, of Western saloons or neon-lit street corners — but a simple wire transfer and here he was.
The physical parameters she’d specified were those of her first crush, a dark-haired, dark-eyed boy she’d known in the village and thought to be exceedingly handsome, regardless of what the other girls had said.
They could keep their square-jawed farmboys with their cornsilk-blonde locks; Odette favored shadowed mystery, even though it had been a long and torturous wait until she turned eighteen and moved from beneath her parents’ roof to find it.
He’s more handsome than Marcus, though, Odette mused as she stared at the man. Jai. It was a nice name — familiar enough, yet still alien to her. He certainly wasn’t the sort of man she’d been expecting; he looked the part too well, his symmetrical, vulpine features shrouded beneath an invisible, unassuming glamour.
There was an intelligence about him that she hadn’t been prepared for, too, a sharpness to his gaze as he watched her, head slightly tilted to the side. Some distant fact reasserted itself from a late-night viewing of a nature documentary: He’s evaluating me. Is he starting already?
Realizing she was staring, Odette nodded wordlessly at the man and he returned the gesture, then returned to the living room, his shoes too loud against the timeworn wooden planks.
The agency had advised her that she was supposed to act as she would in a mundane version of this situation, but instinctive panic clenched her mind in frost-rimed talons as she struggled in vain to think of what to do. I’m overthinking this — I know I’m overthinking this, but what do I do?
A few days had hardly been time enough to establish any sort of routine, but both work and relaxation revolved around her pink-and-black gaming chair, bound together now with equal parts duct tape and hope. She’d barely spent any time at all in her own bedroom, as though subconsciously avoiding it, waiting for the right time to make use of it beyond the perfunctory business of sleeping. Where else am I supposed to go?
The dark man knelt by the router again, once more digging through his satchel, and Odette forced herself to look away. There was no sense standing here staring at him; though tonight had come with unexpected haste, now that it was upon her, she damn well wasn’t going to let anxiety or nerves ruin it. Besides, that’ll just add to the authenticity. I want to feel out of control!
The risk rider had been half again the cost of the entire experience, but it was worth it — or would be, she hoped.
Odette turned back to the sink as the tech set to work on configuring her router; so long as she was stuck in the kitchen, it seemed as decent a time as any to organize the pantry, which had begun to look as though a hurricane had blown through it. She hadn’t expected the university’s orientation week to be so time-consuming, but her days had been filled with one activity after another — and though not often inclined to befriend strangers, the fellows in her program had proved delightful company.
Having to execute a ten-minute search to find something as simple as toaster pastries was proving an aggravation, and the need to think logically would steady her nerves.
Maybe if I put things together by time of day, would that work? At least then I wouldn’t end up grabbing ramen when I want cereal…
The footsteps behind her approached so quickly that they didn’t register to Odette until the man was just behind her, the warmth of his body spreading over her back like a shadow. By the time she realized he wasn’t kneeling beside the router anymore his arms were about her — one tightening about her waist, pinning her hips to his, while the other crushed against her breasts.
Something shone in his hand, and she felt the mist dampen her cheeks before she heard the soft hiss of the pump nozzle.
Odette gasped, instinctively struggling against the man as he held her, but he was prepared for her — and the taste of raspberries filled her mouth as she sagged against him. Her mind was still clear but her body responded drunkenly, and her movements to push his hands away from her body became feeble.
It was the same feeling as after long mornings of swimming in the lake during haying season, when the water was warm enough for her to stay floating in the water for hours. Her muscles felt sapped now as then, and she writhed weakly against the man as he twisted her against him, lifting her and cradling her as easily as though she’d been a rag doll.
Her head lolled forward against the man’s chest, and she felt her heart beating at her ribs as though pounding for escape, even as the sturdy tattoo of his pulse filled her ears. The bedroom door was open, and he hardly seemed bothered by her weight as he carried her through and laid her gently on the simple black comforter.
To Odette’s surprise, she was hardly able to stir as disappeared back into the living room and then returned carrying the coil of green cord, dropping it beside the bed.
Yet nothing seemed final until the man shut her bedroom door and locked it.
He turned back to her only slowly, and her heart skipped a beat as he stared back at her, his black eyes flat and cold, all pretense of cordiality gone. The corner of his mouth quirked in a cruel grin, and he unclipped the holo-ID from his pocket, tossing it on her bedside table as he moved to stand over her. It landed atop one of her books, an anthology of Greek myths she’d carried with her since childhood; it seemed fitting, given what she knew was about to happen to her, and a faint whimper escaped her throat.
The man snagged one finger under the hem of Odette’s t-shirt and dragged it up, exposing the plane of her stomach as she wriggled helplessly. The fabric caught over the swell of her breasts, but with a crisp snap of his wrist the man dragged the shirt higher, so that it crested her and fell away against her neck to reveal the sheer white lace of her bra.
He ran an appraising hand over first one breast and then the other, roughly fondling her and tweaking the peaks of her nipples until she cried out. He only laughed at the sound, and his fingernails bit into the sensitive skin that lay bare between her t-shirt and bra.
His voice was as cold as his gaze. “You think that pathetic sound’s gonna make me stop?”
Odette’s lips trembled with nervousness, and she fought the urge to lean into the dark man’s touch as best she could. His fingers were skilled, eliciting a symphony of sensations throughout her body as though she’d been wrought of metal strings, curious vibrations echoing throughout her form as he manipulated her.
Whatever unassuming air had been shrouding him before was now drawn back, the disdainful grimace an overtone of Apollonian pride. This was no mortal man she was staring up at, but the avatar of a dark, selfish god that had come to claim her for his own. “Wh-What do you want from me?”
“You’ll see.” The man’s grin was more like a sneer as he stared down at Odette, drinking in her lace-bound breasts with predatory hunger. “Want to feel how hard you’re making me already?”
The words were so unexpectedly coarse that she whimpered again, the secret hollow at the apex of her thighs clenching with wanting — and his fingers were strong, warm as they caught hers and drew them to the front of his trousers. Something long and rigid throbbed beneath her fingers, and Odette groaned as her sex again betrayed her, cramping with lust.
Jai — if that even was his name — moved his free hand to the flat silver disc that held her jeans closed, easily catching the button’s edge and flicking it free so quickly that Odette didn’t even have time to brace herself.
One moment the navy, battle-scarred denim was tight about her hips, and then it suddenly slackened as the man thumbed it open and dragged open the zipper, exposing the snow-white lace of her panties.
The black-clad tech chuckled quietly again. “Trying to impress someone tonight? Looks like you’re dressed for a date.”
Time to play my part.
"That’s none of your business!” Odette forced through gritted teeth, wrenching her hips away from the man’s probing touch. But her bravura vanished in the next moment, as the man lowered his chin and his obsidian eyes blazed at her. He drove his hand down the front of her splayed zipper, hugging the curve of her body until only the thin lace stood between her sex and his fingertips.
Odette’s body surged ecstatically as he pressed his fingers against her, dragging the soaking fabric to and fro along the length of her slit, and she felt his cock throb in response. Things would move quickly from here, she knew that; there were only moments left until he violated her, claiming her body with his own.
Strength was beginning to surge through Odette’s limbs afresh as the man withdrew from her long enough to retrieve the green ethernet cord from the floor. It was at least thirty feet long, probably more, and her mattress shivered faintly as he dropped the thick bundle beside her thigh.
Whatever he was planning could evidently wait, because the man ripped her jeans down to her knees in a movement so sharp that it made Odette’s thighs sting. He caught her cuffs next, and in a second snapping movement the fabric slid clear of her legs entirely.
She yelped, instinctively bending her knees to shield herself, but the dark man was quicker, and he jumped up to kneel between her thighs on the bed. She was still too weak to fight back as he bound first one leg and then the other, securing them in a series of thick loops three coils thick.
Four sets of these coils bound her ankle to arse cheek on each side, and by the time she’d regained strength enough to lift her arms from the mattress, the man slid her shirt up over her chin and past her forehead so that her arms were imprisoned above her head, the soft hammock of fabric between them cradling her as she stared up at him.
The dark man leered at her, and as his grin widened she felt the warmth of his hand as it encircled both of her wrists. Bound as she was from the waist down, she was bared to him; he was firmly set between her thighs, and her futile squirming only seemed to amuse him as he tossed his glasses onto her night table.
With his free hand he traced a delicate line down between her breasts, over the soft swell of her belly and into the hollow just above her quim. She moaned softly as his fingers skimmed over the thin fabric, his touch growing heavier as he slid down into the valley between her thighs.
With a suddenness that made the breath rush from her lungs he slipped his forefinger around the perigee of her panties as though turning the page of a book, letting the digit run over her naked sex as she strained against her bonds, crying out with humiliation.
His voice was a low, patronizing chuckle. “What, you don’t like that?”
“No,” she gasped, fully under his sway as he stroked the cleft of her pussy with increasing insistence.
“Because your body tells me different. You’re wet for me — soaked, really.” The man pulled free of her, leaving her wanting, and caught her chin in his hand. His finger was drenched; as he moved, she could feel the chill of a breeze teasing the damp trail wherever he’d touched her skin. “Poor little helpless fucktoy … I bet you wish you hadn’t left home.”
They were more than just words — and Odette resurrected enough of a semblance of consciousness to recognize the phrase from the agency’s primer. He’s asking if I like this— no, if he’s pushing me too hard.
The man stared down at her, eyes narrowed in expectation until she violently shook her head, seething prettily: “I only wish I’d never called for you! I should’ve set up my router myself!”
The man laughed again, easily now as his hand returned to her quim and he twisted his wrist, wrenching her panties aside to bare her sex completely. A scream burst from her throat like a sparrow as he palmed her, slipping his fingers between her honeyed folds until he found her channel. His voice tightened along with his grip on her wrists as he fought to hold her, his middle finger delving deep into her and finding her wellspring. “Don’t tell me I found myself a virgin.”
“N-No,” Odette stammered — but whether from the agency’s internal files or his own intuition, the stranger seemed to know she was lying, because his onyx eyes narrowed again at her words. He moved like an asp, shifting his grip to knot his fingers in her hair as he held her wrists with his elbow.
His weight pinned her to bed, inescapable as his fingers continued to play against her sex, finding the nub of her clit and circling it with a soaked fingertip until she shivered beneath him.
“I’m gonna break you open, virgin,” the man growled. His brow contorted, and he sneered as he sank a second fingertip into her hollow, probing and withdrawing with increasing fervor.
Something hard was digging into the inside of her thigh as though stabbing her, and she pushed back against it, her stomach leaping with delight as the man groaned in response. His cock … it seems even bigger than when he had me touch him!
“You little slut,” the man laughed hoarsely. “You want me to break you open, don’t you?”
“I want you to leave!” she mewed piteously, savoring the way the thick bands of cable felt against her skin. Nothing pinched, but she was firmly imprisoned; the dark stranger owned her body completely, and nothing could prevent her from taking what he wanted from her. Yes…
“I’ll leave — but I’m definitely gonna fuck you first,” the man told her, his dark eyes glinting with cruel humor.
His fingers tightened in her hair, forcing her chin up to meet his as he crushed his mouth against hers. He forced his tongue between her teeth, possessing her mouth as his fingers stroked her quim with growing force; he tasted like raspberries and autumn leaves, and darker, forbidden things for which Odette knew no name.
She arched her back, grinding her body against his as he aligned his erection with her pussy, pressing against her as though seeking her already. Still his fingers worked at her clit as though ensorcelling her to accept him, and she sank against him, vainly willing her clothes to part so she could feel his naked, scorching phallus against her.
The tech drank deep of her lips, releasing her with a low snarl, and she echoed the sound as his fingers drew away from her pussy. She could feel him fumbling in his pocket, but the glint of the pocketknife startled her in the bedroom’s unforgiving light, and her heartbeat quickened as he flicked the thing open.
It was a simblade — programmed to cut garments and not flesh, doubtless — but it still looked real enough. Odette panted with terror as the cool metal slid against her sternum.
The bra parted effortlessly, overtaxed fabric sighing back to reveal the generous swells of her breasts, but the man only paused to admire her for a moment before letting the blade drop lower, to her panties.
He snicked the top of the lacy fabric open, then the blade clicked as he closed it and replaced the tool in his pocket. A swift tug and Odette screamed as her undergarment tore open to reveal her drenched pussy. I’m so turned on by this … it’s mortifying!
The man leaned back, bringing her shirt-tangled wrists before her body. “Sit up.”
She obeyed, slowly and awkwardly. The man was reared up on his knees, but from the way her legs were bound, Odette could only sit back on her haunches, shivering as the comforter brushed against her soaked quim. She could feel the line of glistening liquid from her own sex brushing against her thigh as she moved, bending forward instinctively as the man drew her wrists down to the bed again.
“No struggling, or you can guess what’ll happen,” he warned her, patting the pocket that she well knew held his knife.
Apprehension crested in her stomach like whitecaps as he drew the knife forth again, but it was only to cut the length of cord he’d bound about her legs, and to slice a second section, this several arm spans in length. The man stowed the knife in the pocket of his black trousers again before reaching inside her t-shirt and binding her wrists with the second length of cord.
The bonds were as unyielding as manacles by the time he slipped her shirt free of her wrists and cast it aside — and now finally he stopped to truly examine Odette, and her gaze sank to the bed in shame.
“You’re just a naked piece of ass now,” the man crowed softly. He casually reached out and tweaked one of her nipples, and it wasn’t until the teardrop landed on his hand that Odette even realized she was crying.
His void-dark gaze captured hers, and she saw tenderness there as he murmured, “Your face says you wish you hadn’t left home.”
There it is again — the option to stop, or slow down. Clearly the agency had trained the man well, because he watch watching her, hardly moving as she tried to form words. There was still so much yet to be done, but already he’d touched something deep within her — the dark, twisted thing that she never let meet the light of day.
“Not everyone in this city’s as fucked-up as you,” Odette choked out. Just as long as I don’t say yes, anything … just don’t let him think you don’t like it! I need more!
The dark man only laughed. “That’s where you’re wrong.” He lifted her hands and ducked beneath, settling her bound wrists behind the back of his neck so that her face was mere inches from his. His fingers caged the curves of her ass, pulling her hips against his own as he grinned.
The torn fabric of her lace panties still hung against her, and the man tugged at it, reminding her that the tattered remnants were still wound tight about her upper thighs.
“Everyone’s fucked-up. I’m just more hands-on about it than most.”
He twisted his hips and then his erect cock was against her again, the fabric abrading her and spreading her pussy lips as though demanding she admit him. His mouth claimed hers as he moved one hand to her breast, cupping the swell and rolling her nipple between his thumb and index finger until electric jolts lanced deep in her belly.
“You don’t want me to fuck you, do you?” the man asked, his lips still curved with amusement. “You just want me to go away and pretend like none of this ever happened.”
Odette shook her head. It was so liberating to be able to say no when she really meant yes — it was why she had waited, why she hadn’t simply given in and opened her legs to someone with a well-shaped cock in the preceding months.
It had been legal by then, certainly, but without this it felt like a pointless exercise. A fuck would’ve been easy. This … I couldn’t trust anyone for this. Not really.
The man she’d hired to shatter her virginity laughed again, and the sound was so chilling that she could almost feel her blood slow in her veins. Without his glasses his eyes blazed at her even more fiercely, like black diamonds sparkling with firelight.
“Doesn’t matter. I’m going to fuck you anyway, nice and rough so you never forget me.” He leaned toward her, and she sobbed quietly in terror as his teeth grazed her jaw. “Know what the worst part is?”
She shook her head, her cheek burning from the way his stubble scraped her skin.
His voice was a whisper, but his grip on her body was like iron. “I’m gonna make you so turned on that you’re gonna enjoy it.”
Odette yelped as her captor suddenly ducked free of her bound wrists and dragged them down to the bedding again, kneeling on the lead to keep her pinned down as he pulled his polo shirt over his head and let it drop to her bedroom floor. His chest was lean but muscular, the wiry sort of strength that both surprised and pleased her.
No wonder he took me so easily. Then his hands moved to the catch on his pants — and though she could feel herself staring, she couldn’t look away as he undid the button and zipper and slid his hand within to produce his rigid cock just beside her face.
She’d seen her fair share of enraged and swollen erections thanks to her nocturnal prowlings throughout the Internet, but Jai’s was truly a remarkable sight. His phallus was well more than half a foot long, and uncut as she had requested; his hand swept over the shaft in short strokes as he stared down at her, his lips parting with unvoiced hunger.
His autumn scent filled her nose, and she couldn’t help but think he was teasing her, playing with himself so near to her yet not permitting her to touch him. He wants me to fear him … he knows how I crave that.
“Look at you, down where you belong,” the man crooned, his onyx eyes flaring as his cock twitched within his fingers. “Come on, give it a kiss.”
This knife and this were the two reasons for Odette’s risk deposit, and an electric thrill lanced through her belly as he guided her head toward his naked skin. Her mouth, cotton-dry just a few moments earlier, was now almost dripping with the thought of tasting him, and his derisive sneer became harsher as he shoved his throbbing prick against her cheek, cupping her jaw.
Odette only meant to part her jaw a little, but the man’s skillful fingers pried her mouth wide, and then his head was pressing against her lips and teeth.
It was warm, and yielded a little as she touched him, but he was hard as marble somehow, too — and she sheathed her teeth behind her lips as he pulled her closer, slipping his hand to the nape of her neck again and pressing gently, urging her to take him deeper.
“That’s right, you little whore,” the man murmured as she ran her tongue over his erect phallus within her mouth. “Suck me like you mean it, and maybe I won’t have to fuck you after all.”
She traced the outlines of his swollen veins, shivering a little at the tart taste of the hole at the head of his shaft. His jewels tightened against his root as she flicked the tip of her tongue over the aperture, and a teardrop of liquid seeped forth. The short whorls of his dark hair were soft against her cheek, and she relaxed her throat as she’d practiced, taking him to the very back of her throat and making him hiss with pleasure.
He withdrew and then sank into her again, plunging into her until her lips nearly kissed the flat of his abdomen.
“I knew as soon as I laid eyes on you that you had the perfect body to get me off,” he laughed from above her, and Odette felt the warm glow of pride unfurling within her.
After a few more sharp intrusions the man’s fingers tightened in her hair, and he abruptly yanked her away from his cock. Still her wrists were held by the short length of cord that he held pinned beneath his knee, but then he moved, taking the lead up again and jerking her backward toward her slatted headboard.
The man tied her to the bed frame as skillfully as he’d fixed her other bonds, and she strove against it to no avail, the slat only bending a little as she tugged at it. Quickly, as he was distracted, she rolled onto her belly and lifted herself up onto her hands and knees in a bid for freedom, but then his hands closed about her hips again.
This was what he wanted!
The ass of her snow-white panties had perhaps been fortunate to last so long, but it took the dark man the work of a moment to rip the fabric open, leaving tatters of lace wrapped about the tops of both her thighs. She bucked against him, but he stilled her with a stinging slap to one ass cheek, with a matching backhand across the other half a second later.
“Please,” she whimpered as fresh tears left blazing trails down her face.
“Please what?” he demanded harshly.
The words felt almost silly, knowing that she knew the answer already: “Aren’t you going to use a condom?”
Odette’s back prickled as the man leaned forward against her, his body fierce and alive against her own. His hips were aligned with hers and erect cock pressed into the cleft of her ass, hot and pulsing against her skin. His stubble scraped against the rear curve of her shoulder, and she thrilled to feel his breath against the curve of her neck as he purred a single word: “No.”
Then his warmth was ripped away from Odette, and she shrieked as he moved back, bending until his breath skated across the small of her back — and then lower still, until his dark bangs tickled her ass. Just as she realized what the man was doing he struck, and she writhed now with genuine shock as he buried his face between her silken folds.
He prised her open with his tongue, the tip swirling about her clit and along the drenched marquise of her pussy — and though she moaned and writhed, guttural cries tearing themselves from her throat unbidden, his fingers were like steel against her nubile hips.
Even when he forced his tongue past her threshold and into the opening of her channel she couldn’t break free of him — and the fact that she could not made her crave him even more. Annihilate me!
He stopped too soon to bring her to any ecstatic peak, laughing cruelly as he pulled away. Her whole backside felt drenched, first from her own essence and then from the man’s questing tongue, and her skin stippled to gooseflesh as air kissed it like chill morning fog.
Odette glanced over her shoulder in time to see the man drawing an arm before his face. “Tastes like a slut to me.”
He caught her by the hips again — now with the lazy imperiousness of a man in utter control, as though she was nothing more than a plaything to him now that he had sampled her — and flipped her so that she fell onto her back with a squeak.
Her bound and doubled-up legs shuddered uselessly as he splayed her about him again, and his body pressed hers into the mattress, his hips sharp against her skin even as his rigid cock pressed itself against the soft crescent of her belly.
His sack jounced lightly against Odette’s sex, and she groaned with longing, the utterance becoming a shriek as the man’s elegant fingers caged one of her breasts, pinching the nipple between his knuckles and then cupping the swell, shoving it higher against her ribs and bringing it to his lips.
Sharp jolts of pleasure lanced through her as he teased her nipple with his teeth and tongue, alternately biting her and teasing her with soft, wet kisses. Yet still his voice was an aggressor’s rough growl, and he tilted his hips, drawing his inflamed length against her bare, dripping pussy.
“Ready to scream for me?”
Odette’s thoughts were dazed by the rapturous clenching deep in her quim as the man slid his phallus against her. I can feel every ridge against me … is he close to exploding? He felt too thick for her, his girth greater than what she could’ve been expected to hold given the width of her hips — and she whimpered at each blazing caress as his cock stroked her sex.
The glorious torment was so overwhelming that it was easy to pretend to feel frightened. “P-Please,” she begged the dark man as he slowed and drew his hips away from her, one hand fumbling to catch himself between her thighs, “just don’t hurt me!”
“That’s enough.” His hand clamped over Odette’s mouth, and she whimpered into his fingers as he aligned his cock against her pussy, the soaked, hard nub of his head unyielding against her virgin cunt.
Odette arched her back, trembling with terror as he found her channel and poised himself. That’s right … tell me I can’t say no!
“Want me to stop?” the man taunted her, grunting a little as he held her beneath him, and he rubbed his head about her clit until she shivered with wanting.
She murmured into his hand, but the words didn’t matter — all that emerged were a series of muffled, inarticulate moans. He laughed again, his nighted eyes hard as jet.
“That’s what I thought.”
His neat brows drew together, and with a single thrust he was halfway within her, her sex burning and overwhelmed with his presence. God, he’s huge!
Her mind craved him, but still her body struggled against his violent intrusion, her arms yanking against the tether that held her to the headboard as her hips twisted back and away from him, trying to retreat.
Yet he only needed tug on the ropes encircling her upper thighs to reclaim her, and he slipped his arm around her hips, imprisoning her as he thrust deeper, his hard, throbbing phallus claiming her pussy inch by agonizing inch.
Odette felt herself struggling like a wildcat as he sank deeper into her belly, his fingernails sinking into her ass as he held her hips still against his. Even breathing felt different with him inside her; she panted, nearly overcome by how utterly he filled her, his cock setting her nerves alight like a blinding torch.
It felt as though if she breathed too deeply she would shatter, but still he drove into her until her cervix bent, stretched to its limit and her shallow breaths became a primal whine.
“That’s a nice, tight cunt — and it’s mine now,” the dark man growled beside her ear. His cheekbone threatened to bruise her temple as his body crushed hers into the mattress, claiming her utterly. Her knees flailed uselessly in the air, hobbled by the way he’d bound her as he drew slowly out of her like a scimitar from a wound.
His head abraded the curves within her sex, the sensations heightening as he retreated almost entirely — but no sooner had his swollen ridges neared the edge of her than he transfixed her again, grunting as he thrust into her, more fully now that he’d begun molding her to him.
Every twitch and throb of his cock was magnified through her a hundredfold; she was water and he was light, lancing deep within her until she trembled to contain him.
The man’s root ground against Odette’s clit with each rough intrusion, and his harsh, panting breaths scorched her skin as he rutted with her. Her awareness became a floating, disconnected thing, and she surrendered to the riot of sensations screaming within her, only the lime-sheathed cable holding her consciousness together as all else fell away.
Her ravager was no man but a dark demon, grunting as he fucked her restrained body, pulsing with lust and greed as she writhed about his smoldering phallus. Take me … please, let my body bring you pleasure…
Odette squirmed in shame as she heard the wet slopping of her own cunt as the dark man strove within her again and again, gripping the thick band of cable that was slung about her hips to hold her closer — and she was so overwhelmed that she could only gasp with horror as he withdrew himself from her completely. Only then could she feel how much his stony organ had wrecked her, muscles deep within her belly aching and screaming with each feeble movement.
The man eased back far enough to flip Odette onto her stomach, but as she sagged toward the mattress, the hand that was tight about her hip restraints held her haunches up. His livid cock slapped heedlessly against the inside of her thigh as he knelt behind her, and she felt her own essence dripping from him, down to where her knees pressed into her comforter. God, I’m soaked!
Odette’s chin snapped up as the man wrapped his hand about her hair and tugged, commanding her attention as though she was a creature on a leash. His other hand moved to a knot of cable at the swell of her hip as her scalp burned with reproach — and then he nudged his head against her drenched slit again, finding her without needing to use his hands.
The man bucked his hips and then he was inside her again, his every inch demanding that he admit her, and bending her until her body submitted. She whimpered as his sex filled her again, and soon he began to move within her, quickening until his hips slapped her bound rump. I really can’t escape him!
Odette’s arms trembled as she balanced herself on her knees and bound wrists, jouncing freely as the dark man fucked her. He grunted in satisfaction, and his hand in her hair loosened, parting her tresses until his fingers slipped about the back of her neck, scruffing her. Her heels ground fruitlessly against the backs of her thighs as she struggled against the lime cable, powerless — and his hand at her hips slipped lower, too, moving around to her front.
“Open up,” the man snapped impatiently. His knees slapped hers one at a time, urging her wider as his fingers skimmed over the crescent of her abdomen and then lower, grazing her and teasing until he found her folds.
He swirled about her clit, holding her firmly as he defiled her, trespassing within her as he pleased — and to her commingled rapture and horror, Odette found herself responding, forcing her ass back and impaling herself on her ravager’s cock as his girth splintered her.
The dark man yanked her against him more savagely now, conquering her body, and she yelped as she felt his hard cock shiver within her. “You’re gonna come for me, aren’t you? I knew you were a slut..”
The lie escaped her as a miserable whimper; he had her body tied and pinned, completely enslaved as he fucked her. Each twist of her hips as she struggled against him just made her clench his scorching length harder, and he pumped within her mercilessly, seeming to savor it as she tightened about him, trying to escape.
Her body quaked as seizures of ecstasy thrilled through her. I can’t resist.
“Tell me how much you don’t want me to cum inside you,” the dark-eyed man rumbled from behind Odette. His hand at her neck loosened, caressing her back and snaking around her to catch her breasts as they jounced against her. “Beg.”
Odette could feel her skin flushing with shame. Of everything she’d learned about fucking, bareback sex was the ultimate taboo — the dirtiest, the most dangerous, the thing she should want least of all, and was taught to loathe. Perhaps that was why the fantasy had overtaken her imagination, until all she could dream of was trespass and torment.
And now here it was, happening — as close a simulacrum as she needed or wanted.
The man’s hand tightened about her breast, commanding her attention as his throbbing cock slammed into her pussy. “Beg.”
“Please … please don’t— Not inside me!” Odette pleaded weakly, nearly overwhelmed beyond speech as her cunt began to spasm around him.
“I’m close,” he muttered, and the tempo of his hips slapping her ass quickened. “Better beg harder.”
“Anything but that!” Odette sobbed helplessly. “Please, please, please … I’ll do anything you want!”
She fought against his thighs as his knees splayed her wider about him still, and she could feel him driving deep in her belly, throbbing as he neared. His jewels slapped her soaked folds just below where her fingertips stirred her, and everywhere she sought to retreat he was there to confront her. I’m close, too … any moment now…
“Too late,” the dark man rasped, and his fingers tightened on Odette’s body, crushing her against him as his whole frame shook. It had been one thing to select the experience on the agency’s discreet webpage, ticking a box anonymously — but as the prostitute stiffened against her, his hard cock shuddering within her quim, Odette knew it had been worth the work and the wait to be touched as savagely as this.
The dark man’s zipper was cold against the backs of Odette’s bound thighs as he groaned and thrust deepest of all, and she screamed as his blazing essence spurted inside her. He rode her even as he was unleashing himself within her, and the scalding touch made something spill over in her core, too.
One moment she was herself, and in the next the radiance exploded within her, possessing her body like an ecstatic nymph as the dark man flooded her pussy.
Yes … destroy me…
“Good little slut,” the man panted as he flexed his hips again, forcing another mew from Odette’s lips as another trickle of liquid fire seeped into her wrecked womb. “Take it all.”
“Yes,” she sighed, and sank back against the man who held her prisoner, the man whose name she had already forgotten.
Odette sank into her computer chair, savoring the symphony of sore muscles that protested her every movement.
It had taken time to collect herself after the dark man fucked her, and his ministrations to her had been positively tender as he unwound the knotted cables from about her legs and massaged her limbs, ensuring she hadn’t lost blood flow. It had been a masterful roping; though the physical marks soon faded, there were deeper changes still that she would carry forever.
It was perfect, Odette thought as she scrolled through the tastefully designed questionnaire the agency had emailed her this morning, sipping her favorite herbal tea.
In truth, she had no complaints whatsoever; indeed, it was a pleasure to tick each box in turn, commending the man’s courtesy, professionalism, and skill. He’d even drawn her a bath before leaving, his polite demeanor reasserting itself as he dressed himself.
The final question on the agency’s survey was the only one that gave her pause: Would you like to schedule your next appointment?
She hadn’t found the business card pinned to her refrigerator until this morning, and she’d recognized the purple ink from her own pen that she’d left lying on the countertop. Though the scrolling handwriting was unfamiliar, the words themselves were beautifully legible: Request me anytime -Jai.
Odette’s workstudy papers were near to hand from orientation, and it only took her a few minutes to work out how long it would take her to afford another such evening, accounting for all her academic and living supplies, of course.
Her imagination was aflame with thoughts of the agency’s dark-eyed stranger as she clicked the radio button that accompanied the word Yes, and considered the options that blossomed to life before her. Maybe a longer visit next time — a midterm treat. It was a ways off, certainly, but well within the appropriate window of time for her to afford it.
Odette would have to work hard for such an extravagance, of course, but she couldn’t stop the grin from stealing across her face as she finalized her reservation for a “comprehensive PC tune-up” — and she shivered from the stirrings of lust that unfurled within her at the thought. The lime green ethernet cord glimmered at her beneath the apartment’s wan light.
Some things truly were worth the wait.