Bondage story - The Phantom of the Roxy - 38

The Whisperer straddled her upper body and knelt down, resting his hard buttocks partially on her chest, just below her tits. His long, thick cock lay throbbing and hot between her heaving breasts. Quickly removing his shirt, he wadded it up and wedged it under Jessica’s head, which left her gazing up at his deep, muscular chest, her chin resting against her collarbone. Gazing down at her with lust-flled eyes, he eased his hips forward, sliding his cockhead between her open lips, through the steel ring and back into the warm confnes of her mouth. Taking her full breasts in his hands, he pressed them together, wrapping them around the shaft of his cock. Jessica whimpered at the pain his handling caused her sore, throbbing tits, but when he began rocking gently forward and back, she accepted the pain, knowing that it gave her master pleasure.

Again she gave herself to his pleasure, sliding her tongue against his heated cockhead and trying to clasp it between the base of her tongue and the roof of her mouth. She gazed up at his masked face and powerful torso, the image swimming in her tear-flled vision, and whimpered her submission to him.

Despite the painful friction of his thick shaft sliding against the abraded surface of her breasts, and the pulsing ache as his hands squeezed them against himself, once Jessica began to relax and settle into the rhythm of his movement she found this situation extremely arousing. Here she lay beneath her master, naked and bound, and he was using her mouth and tortured breasts for his own pleasure. She began to subtly work her hips on the impaling dildo, the pleasure of the tiny movement adding to her arousal. It was hard, especially with the big man’s weight pinning her down, but by straining her thigh and pelvic muscles she could do it.

Gradually the Whisperer began to lengthen his strokes, driving his thick cockhead into the back of Jessica’s throat and then withdrawing until the fat plum appeared outside her lips. She accepted the gagging that occurred as part of her submission to him, and his eyes narrowed with pleasure to see her thus.

The interlude went on for a long while. The Whisperer’s subtle rocking brought him toward climax very slowly, despite his quivering excitement at having his slave in such a subservient position beneath him. He could feel her body tensing and relaxing under him with a matching rhythm, but if he was aware it was because she was pleasuring herself on his wooden dildo, he didn’t let on. Her straining movement kept her body glistening with a sheen of sweat, which provided lubrication for his shaft sliding between her breasts.

After a time she could tell he was beginning to get close to coming, and he accelerated his rhythm slightly. He began to pinch her punished nipples between his thumbs and forefngers, drawing little whimpers of pain from her. The whimpers excited him further, and he pinched harder, then even harder still, watching her eyes as she cringed more and more, and when he began to twist the agonized nipples as well, he was rewarded with fresh tears.

The renewed nipple torment was having an effect on Jessica’s libido as well. She rode the wooden shaft with the same increased pace, straining her tired muscles even harder. In her present state she didn’t think it strange that she could be crying from the pain he caused her, yet driven to such extreme desire. The truth was, she was barely thinking at all. She was ruled almost entirely by sensation and passion, driven deeper into submission with each agonizing twist of her aching nipples.

Then the Whisperer suddenly began thrusting hard and fast into her helpless mouth, grinding the rubbery tip of his cock into the back of her throat with each stroke. At the same time he began to maul her sore breasts in his hands, using them to massage the moving shaft of his cock urgent- ly. His cock pulsed violently against her tongue, and then he groaned as thick gouts of semen flled her throat. With a surge of both elation and consternation, Jessica tried to swallow the libation, but as his rhythm became sporadic and his cock began jamming itself into her throat almost continuously, she gagged, and semen flled her mouth and ran down her chin.

When he had emptied himself into her, he rose to his feet, tucking his glistening cock into his pants and buttoning them back up. Jessica, desperately aroused but not yet close to coming, continued to fex her muscles, moving herself on the dildo as she coughed and tried to swallow the abundance of sticky cream.

When he saw the way she was grinding herself against the wooden shaft, his eyes narrowed in what had to be a smile, and she could tell he was amused by her efforts. Suddenly she was flled with shame at what he had driven her to do, and she turned her fushed face away from him, her hips becoming still.

“This time,” he said as he stood the chair back up on its feet, “you shall not be satisfed. Nor will you be, until you offer yourself to me willingly, as a slave should.” She could not bear to look at him as he untied her and lifted her from the chair. He roughly wiped the tears from her cheeks and the semen from her chin and breasts, removed the ring from her mouth, and dressed her in her jeans and halter top. When she was clothed once more, he took her by the arm and led her through a door into a darkened room. Another door opened before her, and she recognized it as the same one he had ejected her through after her frst abduction. Then he propelled her out into the empty darkness and pushed her away from him. She stood in a daze, gaz- ing around into the dark and seeing nothing. She thought he had disappeared as before, until he whispered in her ear. “I will give you another opportunity to come to me willingly, Jessica. Do not fail me again!” With that, he was gone.

Jessica groped her way through the darkness, at last fnding the stage curtains in her hands. She followed them until she found the opening in the middle, and stepped out onto the stage. The theater was dark, everyone gone for the night. No doubt Ira had made some excuse to explain why she hadn’t returned from her measuring, and her friends had probably already gone out to dinner. She didn’t feel hungry anyway.

She made her way up to her room, showered, and went to bed. She was exhausted, but her feelings were in wild disarray and needed sorting. She felt as though she had let someone down. She tried to tell herself that she was under no obligation to meet the expectations of her rapist. Indeed, her rational mind knew she had done the right thing in not responding to the Whisperer’s summons, though he had still taken her and tortured her. But at least she had made him force her into submission! She had only yielded to him once he had her in his power, and there was nothing else she could have done. She needn’t feel any guilt for that. Yet, in the end, her desires had betrayed her as they always did, leaving her wanting his abuse, desiring to satisfy his raging lust. He had seen her trying to satisfy herself on his obscene wooden dildo, and had known how badly she wanted him. And then he had denied her the release she needed. What victory had she really achieved? She had resisted him, but only until he’d forced her into a submissive position, and then her perverse libido had made her humiliate herself, as usual. It was hopeless!

What would she do the next time he offered her the chance to come to him willingly? She tried to imagine herself going to him of her own accord, then meekly following him into his secret maze to be tortured and raped. It seemed unconscionable, a completely unacceptable compromising of her pride and self-respect. She simply could never do it! It just wasn’t in her to give herself up that way.

But what would the Whisperer do if she continued to defy him? This afternoon’s trials had seemed more like punishment than her previous abuses, but had they truly been worse? The madman enjoyed hurting her, reveled in her screams and tears. What difference would it make whether he was angry at her or not? The outcome was the same!

Not quite the same, she realized. Tonight she felt as though she had been punished, and her guilt found the feeling strangely satisfying. But before when she’d been taken, she’d returned feeling… satiated. Her dark desires had been appeased, and she had felt guilty but fulflled.

Now she was feeling less guilty, perhaps a little more self-righteous, but empty inside. Hungry. Unsatisfed. It just wasn’t fair! There was no way to resolve her dilemma! Against her will, a crazy man had tortured and raped her, and kindled desires within her that only more of the same could quench! And now he was refusing to give her what he had made her need until she surrendered the last of her self-respect! It was a completely ludicrous predicament! How had she ended up in this situation, anyway? And how would she ever get out of it?

She remembered her resolve to fnd a way to deal with the Whisperer, to extricate herself from his clutches altogether. She had promised herself she’d do this after her frst abduction, and for a while she’d tried to think of ways to entrap or discourage the madman. But she’d somehow given up such schemes, and gotten entirely caught up in the struggle with her own dark desires. She’d told herself it was because he was too powerful, and perhaps that was true. He was obsessed, savagely strong, sly and seemingly omnipotent with- in his domain. He was also insane, and could be dangerous if she thwarted him somehow. But perhaps that wasn’t the real reason she had abandoned those plans. What if, deep down inside, she didn’t want to be free of him?

She quailed at that thought, and couldn’t seem to force herself to even consider it. Finally she gave up. She was exhausted and emotionally scattered, and needed to sleep. She would think about this later. Sleep now…

Yet sleep eluded her, and that part of her that she refused to listen to knew why. Eventually there was nothing she could do but give in to the inevitable. With a heavy, guilty sigh, she allowed her fngers to slip between her damp thighs, and into the hot liquid center of her quandary.