“No!”
“Well, then. We’ll put something else inside you instead.” He lifted a dark, leather-bound case from beneath the bed and set it on the nightstand. The feeling of déjà vu returned. She felt sure she had seen it somewhere before, but she couldn’t remember where. The panic increased.
He drew a small gold key from the chain around his neck and unlocked the case. He flipped open the lid, took something out of the case, and sat down on the bed again.
“What are you doing?”
He showed her a large, egg-shaped object with a cord coming out of it. “If you don’t want my cock inside you, I’m going to put something else there instead.”
“What is that? Some kind of sex toy? I don’t use sex toys! Don’t you dare touch me with that!”
He grabbed her thighs tightly and pushed them apart. “You’re dripping wet, little whore. I can see your juices running out of you. I won’t even have to lube this up. You want it that badly.” He picked up the egg and shoved it into her, not gently. The feeling paralyzed her for a second, before she shrieked and burst into tears.
He turned a wheel on the battery pack. The vibrator came to life, buzzing inside her. She thrashed and wept. “Take it out of me! Please!”
Anthony stood and pulled up a chair next to the bed. He sat down, adjusted the chair for the best view, and watched her. She shook and struggled against the chains as tears streamed down her face. “Take it out! Take it out!”
He leaned back in the chair, smiling, watching her struggle. She thrust her hips in the air, trying to dislodge the buzzing toy; from his vantage point, it looked almost as if she were fucking an invisible partner.
She writhed and twisted, heedless of the hard metal manacles digging into her wrists and ankles. He ignored her screams and pleas, and sat patiently, waiting. Slowly, her struggles grew more feeble as she exhausted herself, until finally, she could do nothing but lie still on the bed, weeping.
He turned up the vibrator. She twitched and moaned. “Please, please stop,” she whimpered. She had heard stories about women who used such things, about how they became desensitized to normal sex, or worse yet, became desperate sex addicts, unable to think about anything else. The stories had made her resolve long ago never to use such things, nor to spend time with those who did. Her body shook with her sobs. “Please…”
He leaned forward. “Tell me that you’re my sex slave and you want my cock.”
“No!”
He smiled and sat back again. Her sobbing gradually subsided; the vibrations inside her continued, relentless, wearing her down. She clenched involuntarily around the hard, smooth object. The vibrations spread through her, became a tingle in her belly. She moaned softly in spite of herself.
He waited. Little by little, the tingle became stronger. Her nipples grew taut; wetness leaked from her. She felt a subtle longing, a quiet desire that slowly quelled her fear. The thing inside her thrummed, fanned the desire into a simmering need. She sighed and moaned as her hips rocked up and down.
“Yes. That’s it. It’s better if you don’t fight it.” He sat on the bed beside her and reached to touch her. She flinched as his fingers lightly touched her thigh.
“Good girl. Take it.” One finger parted her folds. She gasped as he found her clit. “This feels good, doesn’t it?”
She pulled weakly at the chains and turned her head away from him. “No,” she whimpered. “Please. I don’t like it.”
“I don’t care.” He moved his finger in circles against her. The constant buzz chipped away at her resolve. The tingle in her belly grew, spread through her legs. Soon her hips were rocking again, and she threw back her head and moaned. He pressed harder. “Say you’re my sex slave and you want my cock.”
She whimpered wordlessly and ground her hips against his finger.
“Say it!”
“Please…please…” The need consumed her. Her body was on fire; she could think of nothing but the vibration inside her. She clenched and thrust her hips upward. “Please!”
He grabbed the cord and in one single instant pulled the vibrator out of her. His hand gripped her breast tightly. “Say it!”
“Ow! Stop! You’re hurting me!”
He pushed three fingers roughly inside her. His grip tightened on her breast. “Say it!”
“Please, it hurts!”
“Yes, it does.” He thrust his fingers savagely in and out as he twisted her breast hard. “Now say it!”
“Okay!” Sobs wracked her body. “I-I’m your slave! I want…I want your cock!” Her face twisted in disgust at the filthy word. “Please stop hurting me!”
He released her, slid his fingers free. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he asked mildly. “Eventually, you’ll obey me quickly. You are here for my sexual use, and I will punish you for failure to perform.” He stood and dropped the towel from around his waist. “Now I am going to give you what you want.”
He crawled on top of her, slid his arms under her body, held her tightly against him, crushing her body to his. She turned her face to the side and trembled. He moved his hips carefully against her, lining the head of his erect penis to the dripping entrance of her sex. “No, please don’t…”
His hips moved hard, slammed against her. She screamed as he violated her, and began crying again. “It hurts!” she wailed. “Please stop!”
He was not gentle, but he was very thorough. She wept and struggled uselessly as he took her, and the tingle and longing grew powerfully, irresistibly. He held her tightly and thrust over and over, hard, demanding. Her screams gradually changed as her body betrayed her, and in the end she returned his thrusts, lifting her hips to meet him. A hard, jagged explosion, pleasure and pain and longing and shame, blossomed inside her. When it was over, she lay limply in his arms, her breathing ragged.
He carefully disengaged and sat up. He released the cuffs on her wrists from the chains, and she turned on her side toward him and curled up, her face sweaty and tear-streaked. He caressed her softly, pulled her close, rested his head on her shoulder. “There, now, was that so bad?”
She nodded weakly. “You hurt me.”
“Did it feel good?”
She nodded again and pulled closer to him. He held her and rocked her gently back and forth until her tears stopped flowing.
“I want you to do something for me.” He straightened and pulled her closer. She turned her head to look up at him. “I want you to put my penis in your mouth.”
She shuddered. She felt compliant, unable to resist after what had just happened. “I…I guess I can do that…as long as you don’t…”
“As long as I don’t what?”
“As long as you don’t…you know…when it’s in my mouth.”
“Shh.” He stroked her hair gently. “Don’t worry.” He guided her head, brought his erection to her lips. She shook nervously, opened her mouth reluctantly. He slipped the head of his penis gently between her lips. “Don’t worry about a thing. Of course I’m going to come in your mouth. That’s what it’s there for.”
She tried to pull away. Instantly, his hands seized the back of her head, preventing her escape. She made a strangled sound and tried to push him away. He held her easily and drove deep into her mouth. She coughed and gagged. Tears welled in her eyes; undeterred, he shoved his glistening cock deeper, until she choked.
She tried to twist aside, succeeded only in turning onto her back. He climbed onto the bed after her and knelt over her head. This position offered him an even greater advantage, enabled him to rape her mouth with vigor. She choked on his erection as he stuffed her mouth over and over again, until his own pleasure overcame him and he erupted. She struggled frantically, desperate to escape, as a torrent of warm, thick goo filled her mouth to overflowing.
When he was finished, he released his hold on her and rose. His cock slipped out, trailing wetness. Her throat worked as she tried to speak. “Buh…” Thick white liquid spilled from her mouth. “Guh…”
&nb
sp; He moved to the foot of the bed, gripped her waist firmly, and flipped her face-down. As easily as if he were repositioning a sack of potatoes, he slid her body down the bed. She offered no resistance as he maneuvered her until she was kneeling on the floor, bent over the foot of the bed. With deft, sure motions, he buckled a thick, heavy cuff around each of her thighs, then hooked a length of chain from each cuff to the foot of the bed to hold her in place. He pulled the chains tight, forcing her legs apart as she knelt.
“Wha…” she choked. More white goo spilled out of her mouth, soaking into the sheets. “What are you going to do to me?”
He did not respond, but instead adjusted the length of the chains attached to the head of the bed and connected them again to the cuffs on her wrists. With quick, businesslike motions, he pulled the chains tight. When he finished, she was chained to the foot of the bed, bent over, knees on the floor, body flat on the bed, arms stretched over her head, legs wide, face down. He knelt beside her, running his hands over her back.
“I am going to train you,” he said. His hands caressed her softly, gently, a stark contrast to the roughness with which he’d raped her. “I am going to teach your body to accept whatever I do to it.” His hands moved over the curve of her butt. He slipped his fingers between her cheeks and gently pried her open. The tip of his index finger lightly touched the entrance to her anus. “That includes right here.” He increased the pressure very slightly, felt her muscles close to keep him out.
“No!” She screamed and struggled violently against her bonds, panic lending her strength. “Not that. Not there. Please, please, I’m begging you, no!”
He laughed and stood. “Now what kind of sex slave would you be if you didn’t take it in the ass?” He opened the leather case and brought out a small padded leather satchel. He set it down on the bed next to her and flipped it open. Neatly arranged inside were seven dull gray metal rods, blunt-tipped, each about six inches long, slightly curved, each ending in a flared round base. They were fitted into the satchel in small leather loops, in order of increasing diameter, the smallest about as big as a pencil, the largest nearly three inches wide. He caressed the largest one in its case. “By the time our honeymoon is over, you’ll be taking this one easily.”
“No! Please, you’ll ruin me!”
“Shh. Nonsense.” He resumed stroking and massaging her back. “You’re not made of silly putty. Your body just needs to be trained to accept it, that’s all.” His voice was soothing. “I’m not going to make you take the biggest one today. Now try to relax. It will go easier if you relax.”
“No, please,” she whimpered, “I’m not one of those…I’m not that kind of girl…”
“What kind of girl is that?” he asked, amused. He continued the massage tenderly. “The kind of girl who gets it up the ass? You are now. By the time your training is done, you’ll even enjoy it.” His hands kept working, pressing and kneading her shoulders and back. Soon, she felt a kind of numb helplessness set in; her struggles ceased, and she relaxed beneath his touch.
“There, that’s better.” He picked up a tube from the case, She felt his fingers spread her ass cheeks, felt the cool wet slickness as he squeezed the lube generously down the cleft of her ass. He removed the smallest probe from the case. Her breath quickened with fear, and she flinched as he pressed the blunt end of the probe against the entrance to her anus.
“Don’t fight it,” he said. She tensed and braced herself, expecting him to shove it in, but that hard push didn’t come. Instead, he pressed gently, working the probe back and forth in tiny motions. His other hand slipped between her legs, and his fingers stroked her pussy. “You are very wet, little whore. Your body likes this.”
She made a small sound of denial. He kept stroking, working his fingers patiently over the most sensitive parts of her body. The minutes ticked by. He held the probe against her anus, steady, unhurried, waiting for the inevitable. Wetness dripped around his fingers. He slid the tip of one finger directly over the hard nub of her clitoris until she moaned. The sound rang in her ears, and she flushed, humiliated by the way her body had turned on her. Butterflies danced in her stomach. Ashamed, she felt her hips rocking back to meet his fingers.
He slowly increased the pressure on the rigid metal probe. She felt her sphincter muscles twitch; then, suddenly, they opened, and the probe slipped in. She cried out at this new and unfamiliar violation. The probe penetrated her deeply, without resistance, until it had slid in all the way to the base.
“Good. That’s good. Doesn’t that feel nice, little whore?”
She buried her face in the sheets, shoulders shaking with her sobs. The inflexible metal probe was an alien invasion, cold and smooth and unyielding, that she could not escape. The worst thing of all, though, was that it did not hurt. She’d expected it to hurt, wanted it to hurt, to reassure her that she wouldn’t like it, that she was not the kind of person who would enjoy the feeling of something in her ass. The idea that she might like it was too much to bear; her tears soaked the smooth white sheets.
His fingers continued their relentless stroking. She tried to bury her face more deeply, pressing her head further down between her outstretched and bound arms. He patted the probe shoved so obscenely up her ass; the sensation took her breath away. He smiled.
“It does feel good, doesn’t it? It’s okay, little whore. You can enjoy it. It’s not your fault. You have no choice.” He patted the end of the probe faster, rapid little taps that sent ripples of pleasure spreading through her. She trembled and moaned again through her tears.
He slowly worked his fingers away from her pussy, tapped harder still on the end of the probe. A little jolt like an electric shock accompanied each tap. Her chest tightened. The tingle became a need, tinged with desperation; she felt wetness roll down her thigh, and she pushed her hips back, frantic, longing to feel his fingers again, finding only empty air.
His steady tapping on the thin, hard probe became maddening. She whimpered and thrust back against it in desperate need. He held her there, just a hair’s breadth away from release, but it would not come. She rocked her hips in short, sharp jerks, feeling inflexible metal inside her with every motion, and still it would not come.
“You love this, don’t you? Are you going to come for me, little whore?”
“I can’t!” she wailed.
“Hm. Maybe you need more.” He stopped patting and slid the probe quickly out of her. She twisted and cried out and gyrated her hips uselessly, clenching around the emptiness. He chuckled at her distress. “Calm down. Don’t worry, I’m going to give you what you need. Now let’s see.” He opened the satchel again, and his hand hovered over the next larger probe. He hesitated, then passed it over, chose the one next to it. “Your body seems to like this. Let’s see how far we can push it.”
He picked up the lube, squeezed another generous dollop on her ass, worked it in with his fingers. She whimpered and moaned and pushed herself back against him. He chuckled again. “This will be a lot better than fingers. You’ll see.”
He picked up the probe he’d chosen, roughly an inch in diameter, and slid it between her ass cheeks. He positioned the smooth, round end against the entrance to her anus, and pressed his hand flat against the small of her back to hold her still. “Hold on, here it comes!”
He gave her a brief moment to prepare, then pushed, hard. She threw back her head and shrieked as her anus stretched around it. “Stop! It hurts!”
He ignored her, pressed steadily until it had impaled her up to the base. He held it there, allowing her body time to adapt to the invasion, and stroked her hair gently. “There, now. Doesn’t that feel better?”
She panted and gasped. The initial shock of pain at the penetration faded, leaving a stretching and a sense of fullness behind. Her heart pounded, making her throb around unyielding metal at every beat. “Please take it out…”
“Not until you come.” He leaned over her and kissed the back of her neck delicately. His hand caressed
her outstretched arms. “You poor thing, all tied down and spread out and fucked. And I’m still not finished with you!” He tapped on the base of the probe; this time, the shockwaves of pleasure were mixed with pain and a steady sense of pressure.
The discomfort did nothing to prevent the tingle from growing in her belly, spreading through her legs. Something had given way inside her, and she no longer even tried to resist. The tingle mounted quickly, and soon, with a will of their own, her hips were moving again.
Even then, relief remained out of reach. He patted firmly, and she shook and trembled with longing. Tension coiled inside her, and would not let go. He gripped the end of the probe and thrust it in and out of her with long strokes, causing her to cry out at every thrust, and still it would not let go. She squeezed around the hard metal and pressed back to meet him, fucking herself on the invading probe, but her orgasm eluded her.
“You still need more, don’t you, little whore? You can’t get enough.” He picked up the egg-shaped vibrator. “Let’s see if this does the trick.” Without preamble, he shoved it roughly inside her dripping snatch. She gasped and shook. Stars danced in her vision. He turned it on to its maximum setting, and resumed the hard, insistent fucking with the probe.
She squirmed and screamed, feeling unbearably stuffed. She could feel the hard egg pressing against unyielding metal through a thin wall of flesh. The vibrations made the probe come alive; she contracted involuntarily around it, and cried out as the buzzing spread through her. The orgasm came, finally, rushing through her body like molten fire. As she clenched and tightened, pain lashed through her, too. She bucked her hips wildly and rode the wrenching waves of ecstasy to a place more intense than any she had ever known.
When it was over, she crashed back to earth in a shock. Her shoulders burned from the way her arms were stretched over her. The thick metal object in her ass was a dull, ceaseless ache. The manacles bit into her wrists. “Please,” she whimpered, “it hurts.”
Elicitation (The Training of Eileen) Page 4