Compulsion

by JB Brooks

  “This is amazing,” I whispered. “You organized this, didn’t you? The flowers and the candles?”

  “Everything, Jane.” His voice was hoarse and his eyes, burning into mine, were glinting fiercely from the candlelight and incandescent desire. “It’s a shrine. That bed is the altar. I am the high priest, the ravening beast. And you, my sweet Jane, are my virgin sacrifice.”

  Oh god. My stomach fell away at his words. Lust clenched tight in my belly and my cunt spasmed painfully. He walked around me in a slow circle, devouring me with his gaze. The shadows on his face were angular and harsh, and he looked primitive, ruthless.

  “Tonight, you will be despoiled. You will be at the mercy of my fingers, my tongue and my cock. No entry is barred to me, and there is no place on, or in, your body that I will not go. There will be no refusals, no resistance. I will possess you, and when morning comes you will know what it means to give yourself to a man.” He went on, almost chanting in his low-pitched voice, evoking darker images with every word. He was tapping right into some of my most erotic fantasies—forbidden pagan rituals, mysterious rites of passage. I swayed on my feet. The force of my arousal, tinged with a brush of fear, overwhelmed me, making me weak. He stopped in front of me.

  “Do you want this, Jane? Tell me.”

  “Yes, Matt.”

  He circled my neck with his hands, squeezing lightly, thumbs caressing my throat, up and down.

  “I can feel your pulse, Jane. Your heart is racing.”

  “Yes, Matt.”

  “Are you excited? Or afraid?”

  “Both.”

  “Why are you afraid?”

  “Because you’re being…like this. And I don’t know what you’re going to do.”

  “But you’re going to let me do it anyway, aren’t you, Jane?”

  “Yes, Matt.”

  He eased his fingers under the narrow sleeves of my dress and slid them down my shoulders. The stretchy fabric slipped down my body easily, past my breasts, over my belly and hips.

  “Step out of it, and your shoes.”

  I obeyed and stood before him in my stockinged feet and lacy bra. He pulled off his bow tie and unbuttoned and removed his shirt, never taking his eyes off me. I tried to meet his gaze, but his wide chest drew my eyes. His muscles were bulging and tense with repressed energy. He seemed to shed a layer of civilized refinement along with the shirt, becoming more feral as he revealed himself to my eager eyes.

  He circled me again, stopping behind me to unclip my bra. He guided the straps off my shoulders, brushing his palms over the tops of my arms, and it fell to the floor. He trailed the pads of his fingers over my shoulders, down my back, over my ass, up my sensitive sides, round to my breasts, belly, hips. I shivered helplessly under his sensual touch.

  “I love the feel of you. Your skin is so soft, so perfect.”

  He turned me to face him and sank to his knees before me. Very slowly he pulled down my right stocking, kissing and nuzzling my thigh where the stay-up top had made slight imprints in my skin. I sank my fingers into his soft hair as he removed the left one in the same way.

  “The high priest must check that the sacrifice is a virgin. She is brought to him naked, for inspection.” His voice was so thick with desire that he didn’t sound like himself. “She is very frightened, and he is cruel. He plans to do much more to her than merely confirm her innocence. Part your legs, Jane.”

  Enthralled, I widened my stance. He pressed his face against my pussy, breathing in my scent, speaking against my flesh.

  “The high priest is a master of dark eroticism. He has sacrificed a thousand virgins, and he understands their newly awakening desires much better than they do. He knows how to make them do depraved things, and in their innocence, they submit to his will. Their sweet cries of pleasure and pain feed his lust.”

  He started to lick the top of my slit, working his tongue deeper until he was rasping my clit. I writhed, sensitive almost to the point of pain, and he circled his arms around my legs, grasping my ass, pulling the cheeks apart. The pressure of his mouth increased and, from the back, his fingers brushed over my puckered anus. He tilted his chin forward, delving deeper.

  Suddenly he let go and lowered himself to the carpet, lying down on his back.

  “Kneel down, Jane, over my mouth. Open and offer yourself to me.”

  Shock coursed through my body and a fresh wave of wetness swamped my cunt. I knelt uncertainly, and shuffled up so that his head was between my thighs.

  “Spread your knees wider, Jane. You must lower yourself to me.” I widened my legs, feeling my pussy spread.

  “More, Jane.” His hands pressed my thighs open, guiding me into the position he wanted, preventing me from sitting back, only allowing me to lower myself by spreading my knees. His hot breath scalded me then I felt his nose and mouth against my tender, swollen flesh. Dear god, this was a vulnerable position! Although I was on top, I was so open and exposed to him, and now his arms were hooked around my thighs to ensure that I couldn’t move away. His access was complete. He plunged his tongue into the opening of my cunt, licking and sucking, then moved up to my clit, laving from bottom to top with flat strokes of his tongue. My hips bucked and his arms tightened around my thighs like twin pythons, the tattoos rippling as his muscles flexed. His strength was enormous and he held me to him ruthlessly as he licked me to a shattering, screaming climax, then penetrated my clenching passage with his tongue, capturing the juices of my protracted orgasm. His grip finally loosened and I fell forward onto my hands, shaking and sobbing.

  He got to his feet behind me then helped me to my shaky legs.

  “Once the high priest has claimed the virgin with his mouth, he must prepare her for his ultimate penetration. She is bewildered by his ravishment, weak from her orgasm, and has no idea of what will happen next. I want you on the bed now, Jane, facedown.”

  He helped me step up to the platform and crawl onto the bed. He arranged two firm pillows next to each other so that there was a gap for my face in between them, and I could lie comfortably on my stomach with my head turned down.

  “The high priest arranges her body, spreading her arms and legs.” He positioned my limbs as he spoke. “She is compliant and doesn’t fight him, too frightened to move, for he has told her that he will bind her if she disobeys.” My legs were splayed as wide as they would go. I wondered if he would really tie me down if I moved.

  Do you doubt it for one minute?

  “Knowing that she cannot see him, the high priest disrobes.”

  I heard him undressing, but kept my face pressed between the pillows.

  “His phallus is huge and engorged. She is small and vulnerable, spread wide on his altar. Her tender openings are undefended. He stands over her, stimulating himself, lasciviously anticipating the moment when he will impale her on his swollen flesh.”

  His words made me lightheaded from arousal and deliciously aware of the vulnerability of my position. I could hear him stroking himself, a soft slapping of flesh as he palmed his heavy cock. Then suddenly I felt the mattress dipping as he climbed onto the bed between my spread legs.

  Without hesitation, he pressed his head between my legs and licked from my clit to my anus, stabbing at that tight hole with his tongue. I jerked in shock and his heavy hand descended on to the small of my back, immobilizing me.

  “No resistance is permitted. The high priest can make the penetration easy for her, or very, very difficult. At this time she has pleased him, and he particularly enjoys her taste, so he decides to be kind as long as she remains obedient.”

  I lay perfectly still, hardly breathing.

  “He decides to anoint his sacrifice with oil. It will lubricate her and make his penetration easier for her. He is also very eager to touch her firm, young body, and violate her openings with his fingers.”

  I shivered as drops of warm oil landed down the center of my back, and his hot hands smoothed it over my skin in long, sensuous strokes. A rich scent fi
ltered through the pillows, simultaneously buttery and floral.

  “What is that?” I mumbled. “It smells amazing.”

  “It’s moringa oil. It’s very good for sensitive skin. And it’s edible.” He trailed his tongue up my spine, licking and swirling the skin on my back, raising goose bumps all over me. Then he slapped his hand down on my right ass cheek, delivering a hard, stinging blow. I cried out into the pillows in shock and mortification.

  “The sacrifice does not ask questions of the high priest! She accepts what is done to her and is grateful for any pleasure that he chooses to give her.”

  Then he went on with the massage, kneading my shoulders and working the muscles of my back with his palms and thumbs. I noticed that when his strokes passed over my buttocks, the right one was far more sensitive where he had struck me, and his touch was somehow more intensely pleasurable on that side. I had the strangest impulse to ask him to smack the other side so they’d be the same, but I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. It seemed too humiliating to request it. But the urge, the need for it, wouldn’t go away.

  “Just put a bit more effort into my left shoulder, it’s a little tense.”

  That ought to do it.

  Sure enough, his hand landed with a stinging crack on my left ass cheek. This time I didn’t cry out, just breathed through the pain with a strange sense of satisfaction. His hands stopped moving over my skin.

  “Well, well, you like it. How interesting.”

  He struck me six more times in quick succession, three resounding smacks on each cheek, ignoring my shout of outrage. Then he immediately smoothed more oil over my tingling and burning flesh. The sensation was so intense. I groaned helplessly as my cunt spasmed and flooded.

  He continued to massage my flaming cheeks, now dipping his fingers deeply between them, spreading the sweet-smelling oils over my anus. I luxuriated in the rhythmic rubbing over my glowing skin.

  Suddenly, without warning or hesitation, he drove two oiled fingers deep into my ass. I choked at the sudden pain and my muscles clamped down, but it was too late. His fingers were seated to the base.

  “It’s so easy when you’re relaxed. I can just slide right into this hot little cave. The high priest knows that he is hurting her. He knows that she is very small and tight, but he has to take possession of all her openings for the sacrifice to be complete. If she is very obedient, he won’t penetrate her here with his phallus during this ritual. He will be content with the sacrifice of her vaginal innocence, and he will wait until she is a more experienced acolyte before he claims his prerogative to enter here.”

  I felt him dripping oil around the fingers embedded in me. He rubbed them together and worked them slightly in and out to get more oil inside and I squirmed, aroused and uncomfortable.

  “Tonight your body has to adjust to me. You have to take me in to your tight places and accommodate me. And you will. You want to.”

  He was gentle but thorough, exploring my most private place with slow and careful movements. I gradually got used to the sensations and he set up a continuous in and out massaging motion, working more oil into me. I relaxed under his knowing ministrations and my arousal intensified. My hips rotated and I ground my pussy into the satin sheet, trying to stimulate my clit, but the smooth fabric provided no friction. He withdrew his fingers completely and slid them in again.

  “Do you know, Jane, that when I take my fingers out, your sphincter remains distended for a moment before the muscles contract again? That gape is incredibly visually stimulating. I can see how you’ve been forced open. I like seeing where I’ve been, Jane.”

  Oh he’s bad!

  He withdrew his fingers and reinserted them a few more times. I felt dizzy when I thought of what he was seeing, and tried to relax my muscles so that he’d have more time to look before my little hole puckered tight again. Eventually his fingers were sliding in and out with painless ease.

  “The high priest is very pleased with his little virgin. She submitted beautifully and took pleasure in what he did to her. Now she must turn around and lie on her back, because it is time to progress to the next step of the ritual.”

  He got off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom where I heard him washing his hands and scrubbing his nails. I turned onto my back, my head on one of the pillows, legs crossed at the ankles, and looked around my shrine. The candles had burned down and the flames were flickering in the wax, casting an ageless light around the room. It could have been a chamber from a dream, or from hundreds of years ago, or from a futuristic fairy tale. I felt displaced in time and space, endlessly aroused, utterly seduced.

  My high priest returned from the bathroom and stood at the foot of the bed, looking down on me. He continued his narrative.

  “When the virgin turns around, she sees for the first time the instrument of her sacrifice, and she is afraid.” He stroked his erection. I stared at it, mesmerized by the knowledge that he was truly going to impale me with it. It was bigger than any of the sex toys we’d played with, and though he said it wouldn’t hurt, I wasn’t so sure.

  “She also sees the mad lust burning in the high priest’s eyes and attempts to shield herself, but he reminds her of his threat to bind her to his altar if she resists him.” His eyes flicked down to my crossed legs. I hastily parted them. He did not resume speaking until I had spread myself to the limit of my ability.

  “The high priest crawls over her open body like the animal he is. He wants to feast on her.” His voice was almost a growl and he crawled up the bed, between my open legs and over my body. He paused, suspended over me, his weight supported on his bulging arms, his hands digging into the sheets next to my shoulders. I couldn’t meet his burning gaze for long and closed my eyes. He lowered his body to me, very deliberately, very slowly, and I lost my breath in a rush as his heated skin cleaved to mine, chest to breasts, stomach to stomach, his thighs straining against mine, his blunt cock pressing against my pussy. We groaned in unison.

  He took my mouth in a starving kiss, ravaging without mercy, and I wondered if his steely control had finally snapped… And what would happen if it had. Throwing caution to the wind, I kissed him back with every bit of skill he’d taught me, and when I found an opening, I slipped my tongue into his mouth and tried to steal control of the kiss. We were both panting when he lifted his head.

  He kissed his way down the side of my neck, biting and licking with an urgency that I’d never felt in him before, and settled over my breasts with a growl of satisfaction.

  He drew spirals to the peaks of my breasts and played with my nipples, pulling and squeezing them with the perfect amount of force to bring delicious and ever-sharpening tingles to my pussy. He rolled the tips between his forefingers and thumbs, elongating them even more. At last he bent to suck and lick them, but my relief was short-lived as he rasped and stabbed at them with his tongue, and sucked them hard, far into his mouth, then flicked the blood-engorged tips cruelly with his tongue. I writhed beneath him, begging him wordlessly for release, but he had other plans.

  “By now the little virgin is mindless with the pleasure that the high priest has wrung from her unwilling body. He has done things to her that she could never have dreamed of, and he knows that she is almost ripe for sacrifice. But he has yet one more ritual to enact, to ensure that she becomes forever enslaved to him.” Matt’s voice was strained and he was flushed and breathless. I was pleased to see that he was suffering as much as I was.

  He knelt between my splayed legs and began a frontal massage using the sweet moringa oil. It was clearly his intention to send me up in flames. He spread the oil over my torso, skimming my highly sensitized breasts. He traced my collarbones with fingertips as light as feathers, and ran his hands down between my breasts to oil my belly. His sensitive fingers dipped into my bellybutton, which I found strangely intimate. He completed his downward strokes by delicately tracing the velvet skin in the creases of my thighs where my pubic hair was waxed away.

  He wa
s skillful and seemed to possess the knack of knowing just what would feel good. I became excruciatingly aware of the path of his hands. Where was he going to touch me next? Were his fingers trailing lower toward my pussy on every pass, or was it my imagination? I desperately wanted him to touch me there. My body tensed up, waiting for it, hoping for it. But he took his time and tormented me with cruel expertise. His fingers accidentally slipped over my mound, but then it didn’t happen again for many strokes.

  I couldn’t believe how aroused I was becoming from all the touching that he wasn’t doing. My pussy was tingling desperately, absolutely weeping from need, and I was undulating my hips on the bed. Eventually a little sob broke free.

  “Are you okay, Jane?” Those skillful hands didn’t miss a beat.

  “Yes. No! Matt just…please, I need…”

  “Could you be a little more precise please, Jane? I don’t really know what you mean.” I ground my teeth. I was quite sure that he knew exactly what I meant.

  “Will you please just touch me, Matt?”

  “I am touching you.” He continued his massage-torture.

  “Will you please touch my pussy, Matt? Please make me come.” I cringed at the thread of desperation in my voice.

  He leaned over me again, supporting his weight on his arms and looking down into my face.

  “It’s time, Jane. Just bend your legs, put your knees up. I’ll be gentle.”

  “Just be quick,” I muttered, positioning myself as he instructed. His erection jabbed and probed. He reached a hand between us and directed himself to my opening, pausing to rub some of my copious juices onto his heavy shaft. He returned to his position, poised over me, perfectly positioned to impale me on his cock.

  “Look at me, Jane. I want to see your eyes when a man enters your body for the first time. When I take you.”

  I stared up at him wide-eyed, his raw-voiced command resonating in my belly. He flexed his hips, easing his cock into my tight cunt. His penetration seemed to last forever, a never-ending slide, a pinch of pain, a burning stretch. Fullness unlike anything I’d ever imagined.