Elicitation (18 page)

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Authors: William Vitelli

BOOK: Elicitation
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Her dreams, when they came, were bright and vivid. She was back with Anthony on a jostling subway car, packed to capacity with commuters. She stood pressed in a crowd of people, holding on to the bar above her as the subway hurtled down the track.

Somehow, she became aware that she was utterly naked, She moved to cover herself with her hands, and was startled to realize they were handcuffed to the bar overhead. She turned toward Anthony, but could not see him; she could sense his presence nearby, and she knew he was watching her, but she did not know from where.

The subway screeched and jolted. The man behind her lurched into her. He grabbed her for support, hands reaching around, finding her breasts. The subway steadied, but he remained pressed against her. His hands fondled and squeezed. She tried to tell him that he could let go now, but could not find her voice.

Now all of the men around her began pressing their bodies against hers. Hands groped her, slid over her nakedness. Somewhere, she felt Anthony chuckle, felt his pleasure at her predicament. The men crowded closer, and she could not see any of their faces; only their hands, and their bodies tight against hers.

She heard the sound of zippers lowering, many of them. The man behind her tightened his grip on her breasts. She felt his hard cock press into her from behind, and she knew what he was about to do.

The subway shot down a steep incline, gathering speed. The lights flickered and went out, plunging the car into darkness. A hard cock entered her ass. Bodies pressed all around her, and now she knew they were naked too. She tried to pull away, but the hard metal handcuffs held her in place. She tried to scream, but nothing emerged save a whisper, lost in the shrieking of the subway’s mad plunge into darkness.

The lights came back on. The dark tunnel leveled off and raced by outside, impossibly fast. Lips touched hers. She turned away, and heard Anthony’s voice somewhere inside her head. “A kiss can be a seduction. A kiss can be an invitation. Kiss him.”

She wanted to say no; she wanted to pull away from him. She felt strangely unable to do any of those things. Instead, while some part of her watched from far away, she parted her lips and drew him in closer. His tongue flicked across her lips, and she opened her mouth to accept it. The act was an invitation for him to come closer, open the welcoming folds of her labia, press himself inside her.

He accepted her invitation. His body was warm and hard against hers, and she yielded willingly to him, soft curves and submission. He entered her deeply; she sighed and kissed him just as deeply.

The two cocks worked inside her. She worked her hips against her lovers, a willing participant in her own rape. Scores of faceless men clustered all around, each one, she knew, waiting his turn with her pussy or ass.

The men cried out. The cocks twitched and spurted into her. She arched her back and spread her legs wide. They withdrew, and another man took his place behind her, pressed himself to her dripping tight entrance. She leaned forward, met another man’s lips. Her tongue pressed easily between them, goading him to enter her just as easily. She became the center of a whirlwind of raw carnality. Hips thrust, hands clenched and groped, rigid penises erupted in her. A river of thick white come flowed freely from her.

The men grew rougher, more urgent. She yielded to their demands, and with every cock that gushed its load into her, her own excitement grew. Any moment, she knew, her excitement would peak, and she would come, just as explosively as the men she was inviting to rape her, and Anthony would be pleased…

She awoke suddenly, hovering right on the edge of orgasm. For a moment, she was disoriented, blinking in the dim light; Anthony breathed steadily next to her, and a pool of wetness permeated the sheets between her legs. The orgasm was throbbingly, achingly close; she reached to touch herself between her legs, and the chain pulled her hand up short. She squirmed and moaned in frustration, but relief was denied to her.

Sleep came again slowly, and brought with it no more dreams.

Chapter 14

 

Sunlight flooded the room when she opened her eyes again. She had slept shallowly, and not enough; fatigue dragged at her, trying to pull her down, blurring her focus. Her arms were stretched to the corners of the bed and bound there; her knees were drawn up to her chest, ankles bound to straps around her hips. Something cool and wet was dripping between her ass cheeks.

“I wondered when you would wake up!” Anthony’s face came into view. “You barely even moved this morning when I got you into position. I was starting to wonder if I was going to have my cock up your ass before you were awake.” More cool wetness dripped between her legs. “There we go.”

He knelt on the bed between her legs. She felt the head of his cock touch her heavily lubricated rear entrance. A surge of adrenaline blew the last wisps of sleep away. “No! Please!”

“No?” He knelt poised to penetrate her and cocked an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“Please!”

Anthony chuckled. “I’ll tell you what. If you can give me a good reason not to shove my cock up your ass, I won’t. How about it?”

“I—” The words wouldn’t come. She stammered and felt her cheeks redden.
Because you won’t want me any more,
she wanted to say.
Because no man could ever respect a woman who did that.
Her mouth worked, but nothing came out.

“Yes?”

“Because! Because…” She could not give voice to the fear. “Because it feels all yucky when it drips out,” she finished lamely.

“Oh! Well, don’t worry; that’s easily enough fixed. I’m sure I can figure out some way to keep it all inside you.” He grinned and leaned over her. “Now, then…”

With one smooth stroke, his erection plowed into her ass.

“No!” she cried. It didn’t hurt; her body yielded easily. Still, she felt deeply, profoundly violated. She thrashed and wept and begged him to stop, with no effect. She fought her bonds with all her strength, until sweat glistened on her and the cuffs dig into her wrists. He thrust steadily and slowly, pacing himself, taking his time sodomizing her. Eventually, she tired and her struggles slowed. Her cries quieted, and she lay still beneath him, chest heaving.

“Mmm, how delightful you are,” he said. “I love using your body. Now take it!” He began to fuck her more seriously, slamming hard and deep. She lay helpless, bound, unable to escape and too spent to struggle, while he pounded into her and his cock swelled inside her. He screamed as he came and released his torrent of hot semen deep in her ass.

“Oh, that was nice.” He eased out of her and caressed her cheek. “Hold it in! I’ll be right back.”

She whimpered quietly. He dragged the case out from under the bed and held up a stubby, vaguely teardrop-shaped object made of black rubber. “I’m going to shove this plug up your ass. That should keep my come from leaking out of you and being all yucky.”

“No! Please, don’t!”

Anthony knelt between her legs. She whimpered and pleaded with him to stop. He ignored her cries. Eileen felt it touch her ass. “Stop! Stop!” she begged.

The rubber butt plug stretched her wide. Then, in a rush, it slid deeply into her. Her ass closed tightly around it. She thrashed once and lay still, trying to adjust to the feel of this new, different violation.

“See? It’ll all stay inside you.” He wiped himself absently with a towel before he leaned over and kissed her. The key around his neck unlocked her cuffs. “Now get up, little whore! It’s late. I’ve already got us mostly packed. Get showered. We have to leave in an hour.”

Her hands slid down to touch the base of the plug.

“No!” he said sternly. “That stays there until I say so. You said you didn’t want all my come leaking out of you, remember? Now go!”

She stood uncertainly. The plug remained firmly in place and showed no sign of slipping out. Slowly, she let herself relax around it. Still it did not move.

When she was convinced it wouldn’t come sliding out of her in a humiliating rush of come and lube, she shuffled into the bathroom. She ran the shower as hot as she could stand and scrubbed herself fiercely.

After she was done, she emerged from the bathroom dripping and naked. Anthony was already dressed and waiting for her in front of a table piled high with breakfast. “Come. Sit.”

She approached the table hesitantly. The plug inside her felt like a tangible sign of his control over her. “Do you want me under the table?” she asked meekly.

He laughed. “I know you love sucking my cock, but unfortunately there’s no time for that. You’ll have to go without this morning.” His hand moved between her legs and pressed on the base of the plug. Her breath caught in her throat. “Oh, you are a delight!” he said. “Your body loves whatever I do to it. Sit!”

He gestured to the chair. The thick, veined black dildo jutted up from it. She swallowed and nodded, then eased herself down onto it. The hard chair pressed both it and the plug into her.

He quickly bound her hands behind the chair. His fingers touched her lips. “Open.”

One forkful at a time, he repeated the ritual of serving her breakfast—poached eggs, toast, potatoes. Her muscles twitched around the things inside her. Juices pooled on the chair.

“Oh, yes, you are a filthy little whore, aren’t you?” He stood beside her, stroked his fingers over her breast. The hardening of her nipples seemed to answer his question. “You really like what I do to you. You get off on it. You are without doubt the most eager sex slave I’ve ever known.” He leaned close, until his lips touched her ears. “Slut.”

His hand moved over the curve of his breast and squeezed. Any protest she might have had died on her lips. A shudder passed through her. “Oh!”

He pressed her down and back. The plug shifted. She arched her back and moved forward against his hand. The pressure on the plug faded, but the dildo moved a fraction deeper. Her eyes met his, startled. He pushed her back again, making the plug move, ever so slightly.

She leaned forward, just a little bit, pressing her breast into his hand. The things within her moved by the tiniest amount. A ripple of pleasure spread through her. She sighed, still looking into his eyes, and shifted backward. He nodded.

They stayed there for several minutes. Anyone watching them would have been hard-pressed to see her move, constrained as she was with her arms tied behind the chair; but those almost imperceptible rocking motions, slight as they were, were enough. Her nipple grew harder under his hand. Her eyes widened, locked on his, and she moaned softly.

He breathed into her ear. “Do it.”

“Muuuuuuuah!” The sound was ripped from her by the force of her orgasm. Her body jerked and trembled. Gradually, her breathing slowed, and she looked at him in wonder.

“See? I told you. Slut.” He grinned and released her. “Get dressed. We have…” A quick glance at his watch. “Fifteen minutes. Your clothes are on the bed.” He moved off to the closet, pulled the trunk to the pile of luggage already waiting by the door.

She rose off the dildo with difficulty, cringing at the wet sucking noise. The plug was a steady, throbbing presence as she moved into the bedroom.

The clothes he had picked out for her included a tight, ankle-length black skirt of some shiny rubber-like material and a small button-up shirt that bared her midriff. No panties or bra in sight. She cast around but could not find the bands with their spikes anywhere; intentional, she realized as she struggled into the skirt. It hugged her hips and thighs tightly; wearing it, she could not open her legs at all. The white top he’d chosen for her buttoned high enough not to be completely obscene, but only just.

When she had finished dressing, she moved, with difficulty, into the main room. “The skirt doesn’t fit right! It’s too tight.”

He looked at her with an appraising eye. “It fits perfectly.”

“But it’s so tight I can barely walk!”

“Yes, I know. It will keep you bound even while we’re traveling home. From the look of how hard your nipples are, that excites you. Or maybe it’s the butt plug?” He grinned. A knock sounded at the door. “Perfect timing. Shall we go?”

In the hallway, Heath and a man Eileen didn’t recognize waited with a luggage cart. She avoided the bellhop’s eyes as he loaded the cart. “Good morning!” he sang. She blushed and turned away.

The limo was quickly loaded. Anthony and Eileen stood on the curb beside the car in the dull gray London morning, flanked by the two bellhops. Anthony passed some folded bills to the bellhop Eileen didn’t recognize, then turned toward Heath. “My wife will be taking care of your tip,” he said. He turned to her. “Kiss him.”

“But—no!” She looked around the busy street wildly. The other bellhop looked surprised. “I can’t!”

“Do it.” A note of sharp command informed his voice.

She flushed. Standing on tiptoes, legs hobbled together, plug throbbing in her ass, she kissed his cheek.

“No.
Kiss him.

Her face turned scarlet, and a small mewling sound of despair escaped her. She shuddered and swallowed nervously. Heath regarded her neutrally; the other bellhop sniggered.

Her heart hammered. She took half a step forward and placed her hand on the back of his neck. She drew him closer, shaking. Someone passing them along the sidewalk whistled. She shivered and her resolve nearly broke.
No!
cried a frantic voice somewhere in the back of her mind.
This is wrong! He is not my husband! That’s the only person I should be kissing!

“Now,” Anthony said quietly.

Their lips met. She gulped and fought to quell the shaking in her hands. The tip of her tongue touched him lightly. He parted his lips slightly. She pressed herself to him; her tongue slipped between his lips. He sighed in pleasure.

Then she was kissing him deeply, passionately, cradling his head in her hands, her body hard against his. The stares of the other bellhop, the surprised looks of the people walking by, her own hesitation, all of them vanished. All of her sexual frustration, arousal, all of her shame and humiliation at the things that had been done to her, all her secret longing, all of her heat, poured out into the kiss. He responded, meeting her heat with his own, his hands on her hips.

After a very long minute, she broke the kiss and looked at him in shock. “I…I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I can’t—” Abruptly, she dropped her hand and scrambled into the back seat of the waiting limo.

Anthony smiled. “Thank you very much for your service during our stay,” he said. “You’ve made our honeymoon much more enjoyable.” He winked and climbed into the car. Heath remained standing on the curb, frozen in place, watching it pull away until it rounded a corner and was gone.

Eileen sat in a ball on the seat, curled around herself, shaking. “I don’t…I can’t do that!”

“No?” Anthony looked at her and grinned. “From what I saw, it looks like you can.” He unbuttoned the top button of the short white top and looked down her shirt. “Looks like you enjoyed it almost as much as he did, too. Are you wet?”

“Anthony!” she cried. “This is wrong!”

“What’s that?”

“All of it! Everything you’ve done to me! You can’t treat me like this!”

“We’ve been through this.” He slid a hand into her shirt, cupped her breast. “You are a sex slave. It’s what you want, and it’s what you’re good at.” Fingers found her nipple. “That means I can treat you exactly like this. Your body is my property, to use however I wish.” He pinched gently. “Say it.”

“No!”

His fingers tightened. Pain exploded through her, followed almost instantly by a strange, undefined longing. She clenched around the plug. “I can’t!”

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