by JB Brooks
“Don’t say a word,” he snapped, whirling to face me. “Just do exactly as I said. We’re finally going to get at the truth here, and not by talking. If you don’t want me, you won’t be wet and you’ll have nothing else to worry about. We’ll go back to the party and say goodbye.”
But if I was wet? Then what? I knew I was. And I knew that he was the one, the only one, with some strange power over me, and over my starved and rebellious body, because I started to do as he had instructed, rolling my skirt up with shaking hands, until it sat around my waist like a broad belt.
He finished drying off his hands and turned to watch me, causing my body to riot wildly. How could I be doing this? How could I possibly want this? But I did, more than I’d ever wanted anything before. The realization left me breathless, uncertain, out of control.
“Come on,” he said softly, gesturing down my body. “The stockings and the panties.”
I was trembling so badly that I could barely fumble my stockings off. I placed them on the side of the basin then quickly pulled off my bikini panties and put the little pile of lace next to the stockings.
“Very good,” he said approvingly. “Now carry on.”
I turned reluctantly to the basin and gripped the sides. I was vulnerable, naked from the waist down, embarrassed but also helplessly excited as he stood there, fully dressed.
I tentatively parted my feet, burning with a blush that covered me from head to toe.
“Come on, Sam,” he chided. “That’s not a meter.”
He stepped close behind me and nudged my feet outward with his, first the right one, then the left, until my legs were spread wide apart, my heart pounding so loudly that he could probably hear it.
“Good.” He drew out the word. “Now bend forward. Rest your forearms along the back of the basin.”
I did as he said, my body still under his weird spell, until my torso was almost horizontal. I rested my head on my arms, hoping he couldn’t see my face.
He immediately moved to kneel behind me and I jumped as his warm hands ran up my legs to my ass. His touch on my bare, sensitive skin was electric. He spread my cheeks and I almost fainted at the thought of how he must be seeing me, all my openings revealed to his gaze.
“Samantha, you are beyond wet,” he breathed. “You know that, don’t you?”
I moaned, too aroused to formulate an answer. I could feel my juices seeping down my thighs in a way that had never happened to me before.
I jerked as he touched me, running two of his fingers up either side of my clit and down again, stroking very gently. Then he was pushing a finger inside me. I tensed up, expecting it to hurt, but the slow, slippery invasion was unstoppable and unbelievably erotic.
He paused, his finger tightly sheathed in my cunt, his other hand holding me spread open.
“How many lovers have you had, Sam?” he asked. “The truth, please.”
“One,” I moaned, trying to wriggle on his hand, to bring back the wonderful friction of that slow slide inside me. I was too aroused to be ashamed of the obvious admission of my failure.
“Hmm. And how often did you make love with him?”
“Only once!” I was sobbing now, overcome by all the sensations. “It hurt me. I bled for two days. He said there was something wrong with me, that I was probably frigid.”
Simon made a strangled noise, something between a laugh and a growl. “You are fucking not frigid! The asshole botched the job. How old were you?
“Nineteen.” I was struggling in earnest now, the alien feeling of his finger inside my tender channel tormenting me. He held me in position effortlessly.
“God! You’re not a virgin, technically, but you might as well be! That was just after we left school.” He cursed and his finger was abruptly withdrawn, leaving me shaken but yearning to feel it again, clutching the basin for support. “No wonder you’re so fucking tight! This is going to take some finesse.”
He pulled me upright and rapidly yanked down my skirt. “Put your shoes on, we’re going somewhere else!”
He pocketed my little bundle of stockings and panties, grabbed my purse and took my arm to steady me as I struggled into my heels.
In a blink he guided me out of the bathroom, turning off the light, and steered me down the corridor. He stopped at a door on the right and tested the handle. It opened.
Chapter Two
“Perfect,” I heard him mutter.
He pushed me through the open door into the darkness beyond and shut the door quickly. The light flashed on and, blinking, I saw that he’d located the switch next to the door. I heard the soft snicking sound as he locked the door, closing us in together. “Just perfect,” he said again, satisfaction obvious in his voice.
I looked around, still a bit dazed, and saw that we were in the science laboratory. I remembered it well, although it had clearly undergone at least one renovation in the intervening years. But I could not see, for the life of me, why he was so pleased about it, or how it was any improvement over the bathroom. It was gleaming and sterile-looking, shining lab equipment neatly organized on the counter that ran down the far side of the room. It was school holidays so the lab was clear of the usual experiments that one would expect to see set up on the workbenches, and it all looked rather empty.
Simon stepped around me, cutting off my view of the room, and I immediately reacted to the sight of his too-handsome face and arrogant little smile. But instead of pissing me off, it was exciting the hell out of me.
“I want you to take all your clothes off and put this on,” he said quietly, in that tone that made my insides spasm.
I looked down. He held out a pristine white lab coat, which he’d obviously taken from a rail next to the door, where a whole lot were hanging.
I swallowed and met his eyes. They were the bright icy blue of a winter sky.
“Why?” I whispered.
He took my chin in his hand and tipped my head back, looking into my eyes. His fingers caressed my jaw, sending little sparks of heat across my skin.
“You don’t get to ask questions, Sam,” he said. “You have a safeword. It’s ruby. Unless you want to say ruby, you keep quiet, and you obey me.”
I blinked at him, still looking for some sign that he was teasing me, but his face was serious, stern even. I felt as if the floor of my stomach had dropped away, a combination of fear and desire swirling through my body.
“Why do I need a safeword?” I breathed.
“Do not use it unless you are sure you mean it,” he said darkly, ignoring my question. “There are no second chances. Now do as I told you.”
I looked ’round helplessly. I couldn’t believe that I was going to do it, but I was. His words in the bathroom had shaken the foundations on which I thought my antipathy for him was built. I was awash with questions and uncertainty, but there was no fighting the surges of desire that were sweeping through me, sensations that I never thought I’d feel, because something was wrong with me. Now it seemed as if my senses were determined to make up for years of deprivation, no matter the method or the price.
There was nowhere to change into the lab coat, no private corner away from the harsh lights and his piercing gaze. With my eyes downcast and my heart pounding in my ears, I slowly started to unbutton my blouse. I took it off, unclipped my bra and quickly slid my arms into the coat, the stiff linen rasping against my skin, abrading my nipples as I crossed it closed in front. I was painfully aware of his eyes on me, scrutinizing every move, as I reached under the coat and pulled off my skirt, stepping out of my heels at the same time.
I faced him, feeling vulnerable without my heels, aware of every inch of my naked skin under the lab coat, as I waited for his next instruction.
He didn’t speak but took me by the arm and led me to the front of the room, where the teacher’s lab counter stood on a raised platform. We stepped up together. He looked at the wide expanse of the counter, empty except for the computer on one end.
“Climb on there,�
� he ordered, “with your head toward that side by the computer. Lie down on your back.”
I did as he said, turning my face away from him in embarrassment as I lay down on the hard surface. It offered all the hospitality of a doctor’s examination table. I heard Simon open the door to the storeroom and step inside, and craned my neck around to see what he was doing. The door was ajar, just to the right of the blackboard, and I could see part of the pantry-type shelves, closely packed with row upon row of lab equipment and materials in hermetically sealed, sterile packages. He was out of sight but I could hear him ripping open plastic. I couldn’t imagine what he was doing.
I quickly turned away when he exited the storeroom, closing the door softly behind him. He paused to put something down then came over to the counter and stood, looking down on me. I crossed my legs at the ankles and folded my arms over my breasts.
“Oh no,” he said on a chuckle, “That won’t do at all. Put your arms up over your head.”
He disappeared from my field of vision and a moment later I felt him take hold of my wrists and loop something around first the left and then the right. I realized that he had snagged me with the computer cable that ran up through a hole in the counter. The thick cable did not hurt me or cut into my skin, but it held me with no possibility of escape.
He returned to my side. “Better?” he asked. “More comfortable?”
Was he mad? I shook my head and frowned at him, not quite daring to speak. At least when he was touching me I could stop thinking about what I was doing and just concentrate on the sensations that he gave me, but this was just too much. He hadn’t laid a finger on me, except to steer me in the direction he wanted to go. I was supremely aroused and painfully embarrassed.
“Well, let’s see if we can improve things for you.”
He slowly lifted the one side of my lab coat, never taking his eyes from mine, and peeled it back, exposing half of my body. My skin prickled with gooseflesh and I shivered even though it was a warm night. He peeled back the other side and stood staring at me. I pressed my thighs together and shut my eyes in mortification.
When he spoke at last, his voice was low and hoarse.
“Sam, you are incredibly beautiful. Your body is perfect. All these years of waiting, and you surpass my expectations in every way.”
He sounded so awed, so different from how he’d been up ’til now, that my body flushed with a warm glow. I sneaked a look at his face. His eyes were unnaturally bright and his gaze was riveted on my breasts. He actually meant it, I thought, with a flash of assurance. He had me helpless, tied up on the teacher’s desk, but he was looking at me as if I were a goddess. A wave of arousal rushed over me again.
He must have seen the hot flush creep over my skin because he stepped forward and bent over me. Looking up at my face to make sure I was watching him, he rasped my nipple with the tip of his tongue then flicked it rapidly back and forth. My already puckered nipple tightened still further and I felt my body arching off the counter with the intensity of the sensation. He replaced his lips with his fingers and moved to the other nipple, which he rasped, flicked and stabbed with his tongue, making me moan and twist on the counter. Then he covered it with his lips and sucked, drawing it into the hotness of his mouth. My cunt twisted and contracted as he played, sucked and rubbed, swapping from breast to breast, until my nipples were sensitized to the point of pain. At some point I’d uncrossed my legs and he slid his hand down my body, slipped his middle finger into my slick cleft, down past my clit, pausing to rub the side of it, making me moan again, and curled it into my body. He moved it slightly inside me, rubbing against a spot so sensitive that I nearly came off the desk with a cry.
“Bend your knees and open your legs,” he instructed. “Put your feet on the edges of the counter.”
I complied quickly, urged on by his finger, rubbing so evocatively in my tight channel.
“Now leave them like that, do you understand? You may not close your legs or put them down unless I tell you to.”
I nodded, trying to focus on his face through the hurricane of sensation that he had unleashed on me, unwilling to do anything that might make him stop.
But his magical finger withdrew. I whimpered, wondering what I had done wrong, but he stood next to me again and stroked back my hair soothingly.
“Don’t worry, I know what you need and I’m going to make it all better.”
How did he keep his voice so level, so calm, when I was gasping and panting?
“But we have a problem,” he went on.
We do? I thought anxiously.
“You see, Sam,” he went on, “I’m a big man. My cock is big by any standards. I can even hurt women who are highly sexually active.”
He reached behind him, where I couldn’t see, and when he drew his arm back he was holding a big plastic test tube. He held it in front of my face.
“I’m bigger than this,” he said. “This has a diameter of fifty-five millimeters. It’s printed on the side here.” He showed me. “It’s the biggest one they have in the storeroom.”
He reached back again.
“You are this big.”
He held a slender test tube before me.
“This one has a diameter of fifteen millimeters. It’s like my little finger. You felt what it was like when I pushed my finger into you. It was quite tight, wasn’t it?”
I nodded, my eyes wide. I couldn’t believe that we were having this conversation but it was turning me on even more.
“I want to fuck you. I don’t want to go slowly or be careful and gentle. I want to slam into you and screw your brains out. I want to leave you so that you can’t walk straight the next day.”
I was riveted, shocked, aroused.
“But I can’t do that right now because I’ll really hurt you. And while I want you to feel a little pain when I take you, I don’t want to do you harm.”
Well, that was a passion killer. I would feel pain, and lots of it. I remembered only too well how my one miserable attempt at sex had hurt me, and how long it had taken for me to feel normal down there again. And my boyfriend hadn’t been much to talk about size-wise, even to my inexperienced eye.
My fear must have shown because Simon leaned over to kiss my mouth, this time a more gentle, exploratory kiss, which had me writhing again, wishing that he’d slide his finger back into my cunt.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered as he pulled away from my clinging lips. “I’m going to get you ready for me. I’m going to stretch you, and when you’re ready, I’ll slide in easily.”
I blinked in confusion. My brain was certainly not functioning at its best.
He held up the slender test tube again.
“We’re going to start with this.” He held my gaze. “I’m going to put this inside you now, to start loosening you up.”
My breath caught in my lungs and my cunt clenched violently. I instinctively brought my knees together but Simon pushed them open again.
“No, no,” he said in that hard tone that made my insides knot up. “You are not allowed to close your legs. You keep them open, no matter what, or there will be consequences.”
I felt almost faint. He reached between my legs and ran the rounded tip of the test tube around my soaking cleft, rubbing my clit. Then I felt it prodding at the opening of my cunt. Little by little he pushed it inside. I lay frozen, feeling the cold, hard length spearing my hot flesh, opening my channel, burrowing inexorably deeper into my core. It butted up against the end of my passage and he stopped pushing.
“Oh very good, Samantha,” he crooned. “You look amazing!”
He spread me open, pushing the lips of my pussy wide, and examined me closely. Then he moved the tube in me, twisting it and turning it in little circles. I felt it moving deep inside me, probing my inner tissues. Oh God, I was actually going to have an orgasm.
But he stopped and withdrew the test tube. It slithered hotly out of my body, warmed up by the internal furnace that he had lit inside me.
“No coming yet, Sam,” he said warningly. “You’ve still got a lot of work to do. That was only the first little step.”
He held up another test tube. “This one has a thirty-millimeter diameter. It’s twice the width of the one that you just had but only about half the width of me. I’m going to put it in you, and I want you to fuck it for me.”
He did it the same way, rubbing it around my pussy, covering it in my juices, stimulating my clit almost to the point of orgasm and then slowly sliding it into me. It was much harder, much more intrusive, and I could feel how it was splitting my channel open, stretching me to a new level. The sensation of coolness spread into me as he worked it deeper and deeper, until it reached my limit.
He took a moment to admire his work then pulled it out and pushed it back in more quickly. I gasped.
“I’m holding it halfway in,” he said, his breathing rapid. “Fuck it for me now. Move up and down on it. Use it to stretch yourself open.”
I dug my heels into the countertop and gave in to the urge to move my hips. He watched in captivated fascination as I slid myself up and down the length of the tube. My movements grew more erratic and he began to twist and jerk the tube as I moved faster and faster, in pursuit of the orgasm that he had denied me before.
But it was not to be allowed by my tormentor. He placed one large, strong hand on my pelvis and pushed me down to the counter, pulling the tube out as he did so.
“I said no coming,” he panted, his eyes glittering. He reached down and unzipped his pants, withdrawing his cock. “This is what you’re working up to. Take a good look.”
I stared. I hadn’t seen too many penises in my time but he was right. He was huge by any standard. It was both long and thick, with pulsing veins under the purple skin. He wrapped his hand around it and pumped vigorously up and down, his head falling back, his eyes closing. God, he looked hot, with just his dick sticking out of his clothes. I felt a renewed wave of vulnerability at my nakedness.