Compulsion

by JB Brooks

  Oh god, I was so open. He sat between my raised legs, looking down on me, on my spread thighs and exposed cunt. He sat forward suddenly and pulled off his t-shirt. I had a quick view of his rippling chest and abdomen in the reddish glow of the lamp and then he tossed his t-shirt over my face.

  “You may not remove the shirt from your face. Do you understand, Jane?”

  “Yes, Matt.” At least it smelled like him. I loved his smell, couldn’t get enough of it.

  “All right, Jane. I want you to touch yourself. Run your hands all over your body, especially over your breasts. Play with your nipples. Remember, I’m watching—if you do this well, I might go easy on you later.”

  I groaned and trailed my fingertips over my abdomen and up my sides. My skin was ultrasensitive to my own touch. I circled my breasts then lightly ran my fingers from the bases to the nipples, again and again, the feathery touch making my skin tingle. The thought that he was watching me heightened my sensitivity. I imagined him following the movements of my hands with his all-consuming gaze and I arched off the floor, my legs suddenly straining wide. I pinched my nipples and stretched them, needing harder stimulation.

  He made a sound like a stifled moan and I heard him moving. What was he doing, and was he going to touch me? Not knowing was agony.

  When he spoke again his voice was tight and rough.

  “Now finger your pussy, Jane. Spread all those juices around. Get your hands wet.”

  He didn’t need to tell me twice but I was quite shocked at how soaking wet I was. I spread myself with one hand, like he had done to me the night before, and dragged the fingers of my other hand through my sopping curls. I found the soft skin at my center and began rubbing my clit, writhing my hips, thinking all the time of his hot stare on me. I felt the beginnings of an orgasm coiling in my core.

  “Very nice, Jane. Now lick your fingers. I want you to taste yourself. You can lift the shirt away from your mouth but don’t uncover your eyes.”

  I followed his instructions, not daring to peep as I rearranged the shirt, knowing that he’d be watching closely. I licked cautiously at my forefinger. I’d never tasted myself before. It didn’t seem too bad.

  “Not like that! Put your finger in your mouth and suck it. Swirl your tongue around it.”

  I could smell myself on my hand as I sucked my finger. It was sweet and musky, and I thought I could understand why he’d lapped it up so eagerly last night.

  “Now finger-fuck yourself, Jane. Get at least two fingers up your pussy and work that clit. I want to see you come. Show me how you like it.”

  I started to work a finger into my tight little opening. This was new territory for me and I was still tender from his invasion of the day before.

  “Open yourself up, Jane,” he rasped, also gasping now. “You’ve got to get two fingers in there before you come. I want to see that little cunt stretch for me. Spread your legs more.”

  To my shock he wedged his boots on the inside of my thighs, just above my knees, and forced my legs wider apart. The heavy cleats on the soles of his shoes dug into my skin as he pushed my legs up and open. My feet no longer rested on the bench but stuck up in the air as my thighs were folded mercilessly back over my body and held in position. I was brutally exposed.

  “Get that other finger in there, Jane,” he commanded as my whole body began to shake. “You’re about to come, and you’re not allowed to unless you have two fingers in your cunt.”

  As soon as he said the words I realized that I was about to come. I frantically shoved my middle finger up my channel next to my forefinger, causing a sharp pinch of pain, and burst into an agonizingly intense orgasm. I felt my own contractions around my fingers, on and on, until I reached the point of collapse.

  But it was not to be. He kept his boots on me and didn’t release my legs despite their trembling.

  “Wait, Jane. I’m enjoying the sight of you spread out before me like this. And I like looking at your little stretched pussy. It’s not nearly as stretched as it will be after I fuck you, but there’s a bit of gape from your fingers, and you’re shining wet from coming. I like it.”

  Dear god, his words! I’d just come but I could feel another orgasm cranking up inside me.

  “So what’s the moral of the story, Jane?”

  “You can look at me, Matt, whenever you want to. I won’t ever try to hide myself from you.”

  “I couldn’t have said it better myself,” he murmured. “Well done, Jane.”

  I heard a distinctive click. He’d taken another picture of me with his phone. Then he withdrew his boots and released me. I hardly knew what to do with my shaking legs but he was ready with his next command.

  “Get onto your knees, Jane, and come here. You can remove the t-shirt. I’m going to teach you how to give head.”

  I scrambled up to my knees and handed him the t-shirt, my eyes readjusting to the light. He was sprawled on the bench, legs spread out, with his jeans unbuttoned. His cock was out and his heavy testicles rested on the fabric of his jeans. He’d obviously been masturbating while watching me on the floor and was running his hand slowly up and down his shaft from base to tip.

  “Get over here, Jane. I need your mouth. I take it you’ve never given a guy a blowjob before?”

  “No, Matt, never.”

  “Well, you seem to be a quick learner so I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it. Just so that you know, you’re going to swallow, not spit—understood?”

  No!

  “Yes, Matt.”

  “Excellent!” He released himself and took my hand, placing it midway on the shaft of his cock. “Have a look and a feel then we’ll get down to business.”

  I curved my fingers around it. They didn’t quite meet at the back and I wondered if he was big, small or average. I moved my hand experimentally up and down, copying what he’d been doing to himself. It was harder than I’d expected but the skin was softer and moved slightly with my hand. Matt groaned and under my fingers it grew a little thicker. He grinned at my surprise.

  “You inspire me, Jane. I want to be as big and hard as possible when I take your virgin pussy.”

  My eyes shot up to meet his. “You’re dirty,” I whispered to him, “and cruel. You’re going to hurt me when you fuck me.”

  “Not really. You’ll be so wet, I’ll just slide in. But you’re right—I am cruel. I wouldn’t stop even if I was hurting you. You wouldn’t want me to.”

  I looked back down at his thick cock. My pussy felt hollow and empty. He was right—I was aching for him to fill me up and I probably wouldn’t want him to stop. He had a knack for wiping out my good common sense with crazy lust.

  “Hold it tighter, Jane. It’s not like your clit. You can be really rough with it and it will just feel good.”

  I tightened my grip and pumped a little faster. His body undulated like a wave and an answering flash of excitement shot through my core.

  “Now start by licking it all over. Get it coated up with your spit, nice and slippery.”

  I did as he said, licking him from base to tip and back again, a few times. He had a stronger smell than I did and tasted quite different, but very exciting. I knew that he was watching in the mirrors, looking at my mouth, and also at my ass and pussy as I bent over him.

  “Now start sucking the top.”

  I slurped my way up to the head and took him into my mouth, immediately aware of the salty taste coming from the tip.

  “It’s very sensitive just under here,” he said, indicating the area just under the bulging head, “so make sure that you rub that part with your tongue or lips as you go up and down.”

  I tried it out. His hips bucked gratifyingly and I sucked harder.

  “Now hold the lower part with your hand. Grip it hard and move your hand up and down as you move your mouth so that you stimulate the whole length at once.”

  I couldn’t answer so I simply did as he said. He continued to move his hips in a thrusting motion and I let him inch a li
ttle farther into my mouth.

  “You’re doing great,” he gasped. “Now feed me into your mouth as deep as you can, aiming for your throat. Keep up the hand action and watch out for your teeth.”

  I angled my head over him and let him slide in farther past my lips, curious to see how deep I could take him. He butted against the back of my throat a couple of times and I gagged slightly but kept going. His salty taste grew stronger and I swallowed convulsively. He must have felt it because he gave a shouted gasp and bucked his hips. When he spoke again, his voice was so thick that I could hardly understand him.

  “Oh Christ, yes, Jane! Now cover your teeth with your lips and use them to put extra pressure on me. And suck, baby. Suck me as hard and deep as you can!”

  I bit down on him through my lips and sucked him in, letting him push into the back of my throat, controlling him with my hand on his shaft if he started to go too deep. He sunk the fingers of both hands into my hair, angled my head and started fucking my mouth with long strokes. I rather liked the little noises he was producing, especially as I was sure he didn’t know that he was making them.

  My gag reflex seemed to be subsiding and I let him go a little farther. With my other hand I gently grasped his balls, pulling them and fingering them through his sac. His whole body shot stiff.

  “I’m coming,” he shouted, and with a few more erratic thrusts he clamped his hands on my head and squirted down the back of my throat. He was so far in that spitting wouldn’t have been an option anyway, and I swallowed frantically to avoid choking.

  His body caved in under me, his hands dropping limply from my hair, his muscles going absolutely lax from the intensity of his orgasm. For a moment he was at my mercy. I slithered up his body, quickly licking his chest—something I’d longed to do from the time I’d spied on him having a swim. I dragged my naked breasts over his torso until I could reach his mouth and kissed him, sweetly, slipping my tongue between his lips to taste him.

  He recovered quickly and his arms suddenly clamped around me. Then he was kissing me back, gently, passionately. He kept me clasped to him for a long time before he broke the kiss and reluctantly let me go. I stood up shakily and bent to rub my sore knees. I saw him checking my ass in the mirror and raised my brows at him. He grinned shamelessly.

  “Supposing you try on the dress now, Jane,” he suggested with a laugh.

  I picked it up, slipped it over my head and wiggled into it, surprised that the metallic-sheened knit fabric was so soft. I looked into the mirror and froze in surprise. Was it really me?

  The material gleamed with a dull, pewter shine. Matt undid what was left of my bun and draped my heavy fall of hair over my shoulder. It glowed rich red-brown against the fabric of the dress and my skin looked like flawless, creamy satin.

  “This color…” I whispered.

  “Yes, it’s perfect for you.”

  The dress was stunning in its simplicity, a basic slip, clinging and soft, falling to a hand-width above my knees.

  Matt came and stood behind me, looking over my shoulder at my reflection in the mirror. He’d put his t-shirt back on and he loomed in the background like a black shadow while I glowed in the pewter dress. He snaked his arms around me and I stared in fascination at his twisting black tattoos as he encircled my body. His hands came to rest, one on my breast, which he kneaded through the soft fabric of the dress, and one on my stomach. His hands were large, covering more area than mine when I’d touched myself earlier. I leaned back into him with a sigh.

  The hand on my stomach began to raise the fabric of the dress, just his fingers moving to ruck up the fabric into his fist. It slid up my thighs, caressing my skin, and slid over my naked pussy, disappearing under his hand, leaving me naked from the waist down. He slid his hand down my belly, slowly. I watched in fascination as he slipped his middle finger through my curls to the top of my cleft then sank it into the wet softness to touch my clit with the most delicate of strokes. With no warning I shattered into a million fragments of light as I orgasmed, his strong arms holding me up.

  “We’ll definitely take the dress,” he murmured into my ear.

  Chapter Four

  Thursday

  Once again I stood at Matt’s door, wondering what was in store for me today. I had a text from him on my mobile.

  Running late. Go to house at 18h30 sharp. Sliding door key behind pool filter, instructions on kitchen counter.

  I’d found the key and now I was peering through the glass door into the dim interior of his lounge. I was worried about his alarm system. He didn’t mention a code or anything in his text. If I unlocked the door and went inside, would an alarm go off? Would a siren start blaring? Might the police come? I’d replied to his text to ask him but he hadn’t answered. Five minutes ago I’d tried to phone him, but the call went directly to his message service.

  Surely he would have remembered about his alarm, I thought, sliding the key into the lock. And anyway, if it did go off, I was just doing what he told me.

  With a deep breath I turned the key and inched the door open, tensing in expectation of a burst of sound, but steady, unbroken silence greeted my ears. Relieved, I slid the door wider and slipped inside. Nothing happened.

  I closed and locked the sliding door behind myself. On the way to the lounge I caught myself tiptoeing.

  Don’t be such an idiot! He told you to come in so stop acting guilty!

  I put my purse down on the side table and looked around. The house seemed different without his larger-than-life presence filling it. A faint appliance hum was audible.

  I went into the kitchen. A pen and a sheet of paper, folded in half, lay on the main counter, but I didn’t pick it up right away. I filled up the kettle instead and flipped it on, thinking that a cup of coffee would be nice.

  While I waited for the water to boil I wandered down his hall toward the master bedroom, looking around curiously. He was so distracting whenever he was near that I’d never looked closely at anything but him.

  You’re a snoop.

  Haven’t you learned your lesson?

  I paused outside the closed door to the second bedroom. Did he keep it closed all the time, even when he was out? Surely I could take a little peep inside just to see what was in there…

  No, no, no, no!

  Yes.

  I turned the door handle, half expecting it to be locked, but it opened silently under my hand. I stuck my head around the door.

  He’d set the room up as a study, same as I had, but other than that there were no similarities. What looked like three computers were set up on the polished surface of a huge black desk, with displays the size of my TV. Numerous black boxlike devices with flashing lights were positioned around them, and a thick bundle of cables ran down from the back of the desk into another boxlike thing against the wall. I had no idea what I was looking at but it was not your average home-office PC. Intrigued, I pushed a little farther into the room, realizing that the air inside was cool and had a strange, dry smell.

  One of my cousins, Bertie, was a computer freak. He’d built himself what he described as a supercomputer, which he audaciously named “The Bridge”, for online gaming, and had proudly shown it to me when I’d visited my uncle’s house a few months ago. To my uninformed eye, “The Bridge” had looked like a sprawl of cables and components over Bertie’s coffee-stained desk, but perhaps because of its large displays, it came to mind now when I looked at Matt’s setup.

  I touched the surface of a flat, shiny pad that was lying on the desk and jumped when one of the massive displays lit up, showing lines of text that I couldn’t understand. I retreated out of the door and closed it firmly, surprised to find that my heart was racing.

  I rushed back to the kitchen, suddenly realizing that Matt could have come home at any time and caught me snooping. I picked up the piece of paper on the counter, thinking it might contain some hint of why he was late and when he might be back. I was surprised to see how much there was, and it wasn’t
handwritten. He must have done it on his computer.

  Dear Jane,

  I will be home shortly. I have some errands to run after gym.

  Today we will be using dildos to stretch your vagina in preparation for my penetration on Saturday. Yesterday you voiced a concern that I would hurt you when having sex with you for the first time. While I do not think this will be the case, I respect your fears, and have designed a program of activities to ensure that you are adequately primed.

  Although I am not there, I expect you to obey these instructions as if I were giving them to you in person. Ensure that you complete the steps in the correct order and tick off the items as you go along.

  1. Proceed to the master bedroom. Remove all of your clothing and put it in the closet.

  2. Let down your hair and put any clips on the bedside table.

  3. Remove the quilt and pillows from the bed and place them on the chest of drawers.

  4. In the top drawer you will find a waterproof sheet. Put it on the bed over the regular sheets, and ensure that it is firmly secured.

  5. In the second drawer you will find three new dildos. Remove them from their packaging, wash them with warm water and soap and dry them using the clean hand towel next to the basin.

  6. Arrange the dildos in ascending size order on the bedside table.

  7. In the third drawer you will find wrist and ankle cuffs. Put them on, ensuring that they are comfortable but firm.

  8. You will also find three adjustable straps in the third drawer. Attach two of these to the posts at the foot of the bed (put the looped end over the post and pull tight) and one to the center-most bar of the headboard (put it around the bar, thread the end with the clip through the loop and pull tight).

  9. In the bedside drawer you will find a tube of lubricant and a small speculum. Remove them from their packaging, wash the speculum. Place them on the bed.

  10. There is a standing mirror in the corner of the bedroom. Position it at the foot of the bed so that you will be able to see yourself when on the bed.