by JJ Argus
His lips drew back, but he held her hair tightly back as his tongue traced a meandering line along the nape of her neck.
“Nasty little slave girl,” he purred. “You must be punished for your impertinence, you know.”
His fingers pumped faster, now a third added, and it became almost impossible to breath, never mind think. Her clitoris felt swollen to twice its normal size, and as his thumb stroked back and forth across it Hannah's hips began to grind against them with growing desperation.
He bent his head and sucked heavily on her right nipple, which flared with wildfire heat. Then he closed his lips on it, slowly, tighter and tighter until she gasped and moaned and then cried out in pain. His teeth ground back and forth in opposite directions, then eased off and he licked her tortured nipple before sucking it lightly and rhythmically.
His fingers pushed up deeper, harder, painfully hard! She felt herself forced up against the wall, her buttocks grinding against the rough stone, up, and up and up, every time his fingers were driven up into her burning pussy. She could feel and hear the wetness of herself as he drove his fingers up inside her, and the raw, wild sensations tore across her mind and body.
And then she came. Her head jerked back violently, her back arching, her hips bucking frantically against his plunging fingers as the orgasm ripped through her nervous system. Her muscles spasmed and her eyes rolled back in her head as she jerked spastically, gurgling in dazed wonder as the howling storm of sensations battered at her mind.
She went limp, gasping, chest heaving, eyes slitted, and grunted dazedly as he abruptly turned her around to face the wall. She gasped, cheek pressed against the stone, gulping in air, trying to clear her mind of the continuing echo of that incredible storm of pleasure
Her eyes fluttered in confusion for a moment as she felt his hands jerking her hips back, and groaned, her breasts grinding against the rough stone as she slid down to the point her arms were now taut overhead. She felt his hand jerking her thigh apart, and moaned an uncertain complaint as the shackles dug into her wrists. She had to rise onto the balls of her feet to ease the strain and then...
She felt pressure against the hot, moist mouth of her sex, pressure that did not come from fingers. Her eyes widened, and then her mouth as she felt what had to be his cock pushing into her from behind.
“I-I... I...”
She didn't know what to say, and then she let out a shuddering moan as his cock forced the lips of her sex back and pushed up into her. It was thick – very thick! She whimpered at the tight, aching strain at the mouth of her sex, then groaned in helpless desire as she felt the thick girth of him pushing up through the warm, slick folds of her sheath, up into her belly, up higher, and still higher, until she ached deep inside.
Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly, and then he ground himself against her and she felt the long length of his stiff cock moving around, twisting around inside her lower belly. She felt his hot breath against the nape of her neck, and then he drew himself slowly back, then pushed forward again. His right hand slid inward from her thigh, his long finger extended, stroking across her clit as he began to fuck her.
Ohmygod! She stared dazedly at the rough stone, disbelief sweeping through her that this was happening, that she had somehow allowed it, that circumstances had created it. It was simply impossible! She simply didn't do such things!
His cock moved faster, and he bit into the back of her throat, lightly, then shifted around to the side as she whimpered and moaned. She felt his other hand come up to cup and knead her breast, pinching the nipple, then grinding it against the rough stone.
“Slave,” he whispered into her ear. “You're going to be my little slave girl, Quinn. Do you like that thought, little librarian? Have you ever dreamed about being a sex slave?”
He thrust sharply, distracting her from any hope of a reply, and chuckled as he bit lightly into her earlobe, then sucked on it. His hips were working fast, now, and she could feel the growing impact of his hips against her out-thrust buttocks. It was impossible to think, to speak, to do more than absorb the sensations amid the buffeting shock of a situation her mind suddenly found so darkly and intensely erotic and arousing she felt as though her body was simply melting under the raw, carnal heat.
“Ahh!” she cried as he thrust up into her hard and ground himself against her.
He drew back, drew himself out entirely, and rubbed the fat head of his cock up and down against her sopping opening.
“Do you want it, Quinn?” he whispered. “Tell me you want it, little slave girl.”
“I-I... I do!” she gasped.
She yelped as he slapped her bottom sharply.
“Tell me you want it, slut!”
“I do!” she cried, eyes wide.
“Say `I want it', little slave!”
He fingered her clit and she shuddered and rolled her hips back
“Say it, slut!”
“I wa-want it!” she moaned.
“Then say please, rude girl.”
He slapped her bottom again and the stinging shock cut through the muzzled heat of her mind.
“I-I... please!” she gasped.
“Please what?”
“Please... fuck me!” she moaned.
Again she let out a cry as he slapped her bottom.
“You forgot to say my lord again, slave!”
“My lord,” she moaned, rolling her hips back wantonly as he continued to rub his cock along her pussy.
“Please, slave girl,” he said, slapping her bottom again, rubbing his moist, slick cockhead over her clit.
“Please fuck me, my lord!” she cried weakly.
She shuddered as his head spread her lips apart and then pushed up into her again.
“Oh fuck!” she moaned.
He drove himself balls deep in her hot, throbbing belly, then gripped her hips and began to pound himself against her, jerking her hips back to meet his thrusts so that Hannah's body shuddered and shook to the blows of his hips. The world seemed to shake, as though she were in an earthquake, everything jerking up and down. Only it was her, and not the wall, as Carling continued to thrust into her with deep, fast, savage strokes.
They hurt, but the pain was intensely arousing somehow, and she revelled in the hard, violent rutting even as her insides squirmed in a dark maelstrom of sensations.
Then the orgasm flashed into her mind and she cried out again and again as it overcame her. The raw heat released into her mind and body like a fever dream, and she felt herself tumbling, lost amid the churning violence of sensations.
Somewhere amidst it all he must have come, as well, for even as she sank limply against the wall his cock was sliding back out.
“I'll leave you with some time to think about your position, Miss Quinn, and how I should punish you,” she heard through a filter of dazed, languorous, shell-shocked numbness.
Then the door was clanging closed and being locked. She heard, uncaring, the outer door also being locked, and then slowly she groaned and got her rubbery legs under her to pull her weight off her aching wrists. She stood and with a gasp of effort, turned around again, putting her back to the wall instead of her belly and breasts.
The lights were out in the cell again, but he'd left some light on in the outer room so that she could still see. The cell was shadowed but the floor reflected the outer light coming through the bars and she could see her clothes no longer there.
This is... impossible, she thought weakly, staring out through the bars at the empty outer room, feeling the rough stone against her backside and the shackles around her bare wrists.
And yet she was indeed shackled naked in the cell, helpless, having just been... ravished by the lord of the manor.
Her mind squirmed away from such a foolish cliché, yet she could not ignore the eroticism of her situation. It wasn't as though she feared Carling, after all. And her body still thrummed with the aftermath of the intense orgasm he'd given her.
Unbelievable! This
couldn't be happening to her!
Yet it was, somehow.
Chapter Five
Hannah liked to think of herself as a practical, sensible, independent girl with little patience for foolishness.
And this was bloody absurd! It was insane! This wasn't the fifteenth century, and what on earth was he doing shackling here in his … his dungeon like this!? Naked!
And yet she was a girl, and what was more a girl who was an avid reader. She'd also read her share of romantic novels, and so it difficult to resist the siren call of dark excitement at the position she found herself in. Shackled naked in a dungeon! God!
At least it was a very clean dungeon. The floor – this could not have been the original floor. It was too clean. Even the bars were shiny. This was like some sort of museum dungeon, as though he had planned on running tourists through here. At least she didn't have to fear rats or such she thought looking about warily.
Her breasts were reddened and bruised, both from his fingers and teeth, and from grinding against the rough stone. She looked down at them with a sense of wonder, still having difficulty believing this sort of thing was happening to her of all people. She was embarrassed at her responsiveness, embarrassed about letting herself be so used, embarrassed about her... vocal response to his... abuse!
Arrogant bastard! He just thought he could molest her, use her as he chose. And the infuriating thing was that she had let him! She hadn't protested at all! In fact, she'd acted like a whore!
He certainly must think her one. Even if he hadn't after that episode where he'd spied on her while masturbating, he certainly must now! Oh yes! A cheap little tart all chained up for his convenience! God! What a weakling she was!
He was an upper class snot, all full of smirking self-assurance, and she'd done nothing but reassure him he was right!
She jerked angrily at the shackles.
“Carling! Carling, you bastard! Are you out there! Let me go at once!”
Her voice echoed against the cool stone, but there was no evidence he was around to hear it, and she fumed silently thereafter.
Fancy him leaving her chained up like this! Of all the bloody nerve! And for what? To contemplate her punishment! What on earth was that supposed to mean!?
She glanced out at the shadowy frames of the torture devices and snorted to herself.
He wouldn't dare!
She sulked, tugging occasionally, obstinately against the shackles. Yet even so, an undercurrent of simmering sexual heat filled her body. Her nipples remained hard pebbles on her taut breasts, tingling with every light rolling draft of air which moved across them. And her groin felt hot and moist.
She imagined a group of tourists coming through, with a guide explaining each of the torture devices, then bringing them to the cell and staring in at her.
“And here we have a prisoner, a helpless prisoner shackled to the wall to wait further lewd and perverted abuse and tortures,” he would say as the tourists snapped pictures.
Then they'd move on.
It was a silly vision, but it made her pussy throb for some reason.
Her ears were attuned to the slightest noise, and she was anxiously – and nervously – awaiting his return. What was taking him so long, anyway? How long was he planning on leaving her like this!?
What game was he playing!?
A darkly erotic game, a part of her thought excitedly.
A shadow passed across her and she gasped and jerked her head up to see him standing at the bars.
“Carling! Unchain me, you bastard!”
He seemed to cock his head to one side. She couldn't see his features because the light was behind him, and she felt a shudder of helplessness at her situation, naked, shackled, in a barred cell, completely at his mercy.
“You are being quite impertinent, Quinn,” he said “The lord of the manor is not to be spoken to in such a fashion by some common little servant girl.”
“I'm not a bloody servant!” she exclaimed as he unlocked the barred door and pulled it open.
A slow flush slipped down her face and chest, however, as he sauntered into the cell. She gulped nervously, squeezing her thighs together as if to hide her nudity a little.
“A spanking, perhaps?” he mused. “Or a strapping?”
She shrank back against the wall. “Don't you dare!' she said, face red as she glowered up at him.
She gasped as his left hand slid up over her breast and in behind her head. His right slid around her waist and down onto her behind, fingers cupping and squeezing her buttock as he leaned in against her.
“D-Don't!”
His lips covered hers and her again used her hair to pull her head up and back. She moaned into his mouth as he kissed her, as his tongue flitted along hers as his hand kneaded her bottom.
He pulled free, his hands on her sides now, pulling her out away from the wall. The shackles went stiff, holding her arms back so that she arched, her breasts going taut as he bent and began to lick and suck at her nipples.
“S-Stop it!” she gasped. “Carling! C-Carling!”
“You must be punished for being such a naughty little librarian,” he said.
Then he was dropping to his knees before her and thrusting his hands between her thighs. He jerked her legs apart, stared at her pussy a moment, and then growled as he enveloped it in his open mouth.
“Oh! Oh! Don't! I-I... You... Lord Carling!” she gasped, eyes wide.
She felt the warm heat of his mouth against her mons, felt his teeth digging lightly into her flesh as his tongue slid up along her narrow sex and over her clit.
“Oh! Oh! D-Don't!” she squealed.
He chuckled throatily, his mouth still against her, his tongue pushing into her insistingly as his fingers kneaded her buttocks.
Hannah's heart was pounding, the blood racing through her system as his mouth worked at her sensitive pussy. She felt at once as though she were being devoured and consumed as wild, raw heat flared within her groin at his animalistic behaviour.
His lips caught at her clit and he began to suck and alternatively roll it between them. His hands abandoned her bottom, coming around to push her thighs wider, yet his thumbs hooked in against her pussy lips, spreading them achingly wide as he licked at her.
“Y-You ca-can't – Oh! – d-do thiiiiis!” she moaned as his mouth ate away at her determination to resist.
She had never had anyone lick her like that before! Nothing had ever even come close! She stared down at him with wide eyes as he sucked and licked and roused wild, billowing shock-waves of sensations. Hannah soon felt as though she were drowning in sensations as her hips jerked convulsively and the simmering hunger which had gripped her since he'd left rocketed upward in pressure and intensity.
Her buttocks began to grind and slap against the wall as his tongue sent fire flickering up through her belly and chest. He raised his hands, then, sliding up her body to cup and roughly – painfully roughly – squeeze and knead her breasts. She felt the orgasm approaching like a violent storm, the sensations swirling around her like the gusting winds which foreshadowed the storm.
Her skin felt hot, feverish, and she shuddered and moaned as the sexual pressure took full control of her mind. Nothing mattered under such powerful compulsion but sating the wild, raw lust within her, and she jerked convulsively against his mouth as sparkling hot rushes of heat set her muscles spasming and quaking.
She gasped dazedly as he suddenly seemed to surge upward. Her legs were spread, and for a moment she thought he was going to take her there, right against the wall, but instead the pressure on her arms was released, the firm hold the shackles had on her was gone. He spun her about again, pressing her against the wall, and she almost pushed her bottom back, expecting him to take her that way again.
Instead she felt him pull her wrists back behind her, and a moment later the now familiar feeling of cool metal closed around them.
“Wh-what – ?”
The shackles locked tightly, and she had
to look up to reassure herself the other shackles were still there, dangling from the wall. What then – ?
He spun her about again, and she staggered on rubbery legs. Then he pushed down, and she could not resist, sinking heavily to her knees on the cool, dark tiles.
His cock was bare, stiff, thrusting out of his trousers, pointing directly at her face.
She moaned hungrily at the sight, and did not need his hands in her hair, pulling her forward as she opened her mouth wide to take him into her. She moaned heatedly, sucking on the head, her tongue working eagerly as she rolled her eyes up towards him.
Arrogant bastard, she thought, but it was a weak thought surrounded by the banked fires of feverish hunger as she sucked him deeper into her mouth.
“Naughty little slave girl,” he purred. “Time to show your master why he should forgive you.”
God, he was thick! It wasn't like she'd had an awful lot of experience, but his cock was far thicker than any she'd had before, and a part of her revelled in that even as she bobbed her lips up and down on it.
Her wrists remained locked behind her in metal. So this was an unfamiliar sort of thing to her. Always before, her oral sex included her hand squeezing the shaft as her lips bobbed up and down on the head and the front part. Sometimes she would rub at the balls, too, but now she could do nothing, and in fact, could not even control the depths of his cock the way she usually did. He was pumping slowly now, pushing his cock into her mouth as he pulled forward on her hair.
“Little sex slave,” he growled. “Please your lord and master, slave girl.”
He pulled at her hair, and though it hurt she felt a wild, raw excitement at it. She moaned, writhing there before him on her knees, hardly able to keep her hips still with the burning between her legs.
He was practically fucking her mouth, she thought with shocked, wicked excitement.
The fever flamed hotter, and she moaned around his slick shaft as it slid in and out, and then her eyes bulged as he pulled her forward, and she began to gag. The head of his cock had pushed too deep, had pushed into the entrance of her throat. Immediately, she thought it was a mistake, but he kept pushing, and her eyes grew wider as he pulled her forward by the hair even as he thrust forward with his hips.