Making Amy Pay

[dr_mabeuse]

Making Amy Pay OPEN

Conner Addison:


I parked the van behind her apartment building. It was about 11:30 and there was no one around, so no one saw me pull up. I cut the engine and just sat there, knowing she and her date would be back there soon.

I knew what would happen when they got home: the same thing that happens to Amy after all her dates. The poor guy would park behind her apartment with her where it was nice and dark. They’d talk for awhile, then he’d make his move: put his arm around her, lean over her and kiss her. She’d respond, kiss him back the way she does, and he’d start getting hard, thinking he was going to score. He’d kiss her again. He’d slide his hand over her tits and Amy would let him, pushing herself against his hands, opening her mouth and inviting his tongue inside. She’d sink down lower on the seat, put her arms around him and the guy would be in heaven. Amy’s hot like that. She drives you out of your mind with the way she kisses and the sounds she makes, almost like you’re already fucking her.

He might slide his hand up between her legs, and depending on how much she liked him, she might let him. Her breath would be coming fast and hot. Her tongue would be on his ear, her lips making those delicious sounds of a woman in heat, a woman who needed it. She'd be pushingher tits against him and gridning her ass into the seat. He’d feel her between her legs, how hot she was, maybe already damp. Then he’d go to open her pants and Amy would stop him. Just like that. Stop him dead.

She’d pretend to get all angry that he was taking advantage of her. She’d straighten herself up and rearrange her clothes. The poor schmuck would be sitting there wondering what he’d done wrong while she gave him hell. She was outraged, insulted, she never wanted to see him again. Maybe his other girlfriends had been like that but she, Amy, was different.

Then she'd get out of the car, slam the door and march into her building. Rack up another case of blue balls for Amy, add another poor jerk to her list.

I know this is what would happen because she’d done it to me. She’d let me get a little farther because I was a lot older than the other guys she dated and because we’d gone out for a couple weeks before it happened, but she pulled the same “How dare you” freeze-out on me. A guy like me, you’d think I’d be wise to that stuff, but she caught me by surprise just the same. I just sat there speechless in the car, my cock aching for her, as she walked away, swishing her little ass just to rub it in, knowing exactly how good she looked.

Since then I’ve sat behind her apartment and seen her pull this a dozen times at least. It was her entertainment, the way she got her jollies, leading guys along, offering that luscious body. Then just slamming the door in your face, walking back to her place with a self-satisfied look on her face while the dude just drove away wondering what had hit him.

But I’m not like the other guys. I’m not some college joe who just goes home and beats off and forgets about it.

Tonight Amy was going to pay for what she’d done to all these guys. I had everything set up for her out at my friend’s cottage in the country. I had everything I needed in the van to grab her and truss her up so that she couldn’t make a sound. Then I was going to take her out there and very carefully explain to her the error of her ways, and collect not only what she owed me, but what she owed all these other guys. It was only fair.

The night was dark with no moon, and the lot behind her apartment was thick with shadows.

A car came down the alley and stopped by her back door. The dome light went on and I saw Amy getting ready to say good night. I had a big laundry bag and a bunch of rope in my back pocket. I had a very realistic toy gun in my back pocket just in case.

I was ready.

 

[dr_mabeuse]

<<<post deleted>>>

 

[soliloquy]

Amy McCann

Amy tossed her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder as the car came to a stop. She knew the routine. She and Simon would talk for a little, and then he would make his move. Sometimes she tired of the games that were played when dating. However, there was a thrill to knowing you had power over a man. There was a certain amount of exhillaration that came with letting a guy think he was going to get to the promised land and then withhold it from him.

Men were such pigs, anyway. So many of them expected her to put out after a date. For a long time, Amy had been irate when she would realize that a guy thought that a few bucks for a meal and movie entitled him to sex. But now? She just played the game back. Let them think that she's some sort of whore, and she'd show them.

As could be expected, Simon told Amy how beautiful she was. He took her chin in his hand and drew her forward for a kiss. Amy sighed, more in boredom than anything, but he seemed to take it for excitement. His lips were too eager, his tongue too aggressive, and it pissed Amy off.

"Let's see who is the pawn here," she thought to herself as she matched his tongue thrusts with her own, letting him think that she was as into it as he was. His hand snaked down her back to her ass, and she lifted off the seat to accommodate him. Something about that simple movement struck a spark in him, and all of a sudden she was beneath him, with his hands all over her. He was grabbing and squeezing, and it was becoming hard to pretend that it was exciting at all for her.

His hand slipped between her thighs and Amy moaned, "Simon," trying to hide that it was a moan of exasperation.

"God, Amy, you're so hot. Let's go inside."

Amy threw the young man off of her and looked at him with all the indignation she could muster. "No way, Simon. This," she said, pointing to her pussy, "is not yours tonight. Not any night." She began to straighten her black blouse and red skirt, but Simon grabbed her by the wrist.

"What's wrong, baby?" He looked truly concerned. As if any man could truly be concerned with what a woman wanted. "Did I do something wrong?"

Amy opened the car door with her free hand and tugged away from him. "You assuming that I'm going to just lay down and take it is what is wrong, Simon." She shut the door, hearing him curse behind her.

Teasing him, still, Amy walked to the door in a strut that accentuated her lithe figure as she made her way to her front door. She smiled wryly as she heard the car gun off into the night.

"Serves him right," she muttered to herself as she rifled through her purse for her keys. She couldn't find them.

Sighing, Amy sat down on the step of her porch and started taking things out of her purse. Suddenly, she stopped. Had she heard footsteps? She listened for a while. No, must have been her imagination, she thought.

Finally, she saw a glimpse of metal in her purse, and dove into it for the key. All she wanted now was to get into her own bed, and forget anything having to do with men or sex. At least tomorrow was not a work day, and she could sleep in. She straightened her skirt as she rose to her feet and turned towards her door.

 

[dr_mabeuse]

It was perfect. Her back was towards me as she rummaged around in her purse, allowing me to get with six feet of her, close enough to smell her perfume, before she pulled the bunch of keys out of her purse. Close enough to her that I thought she must hear my heart beat, must hear me breathing, so I didn't breathe. She squinted in the dark, looking for the key hole...

I couldn't. It was crazy. What the hell had I been thinking? I'd just tell her it was a joke. I couldn;t do it. It would never work...

She went to fit the key in the hole and I jumped out, brought the big open bag over her head and shoulders, down to her waist, pulled the drawstring, grabbed her.

She didn't scream, didn't struggle. Her arms were pinned to her side and I picked her up easily.

"Damn it Simon!" she said. "Damn it! That's not funny!"

In the time it took her to say that I had her at the van. The doors were open. I pushed her inside, face down, jumped on top of her.

"God damn it! Stop it!" she yelled.

Still she didn't fight, not much. I managed to get one of her hands out from beneath the laundry bag and get a loop of rope around it, then found the other wrist and lashed that to the first. She must have thought that struggling would be giving into what Simon wanted, I don't know. All I know was that she didn't struggle, not then.

I was too nervous to deal with the ropes. I picked up the roll of duct tape and passed it around her ankles a couple times, ripped it off, then threw her all the way into the va, jumped in after her and slammed the doors.

My heart felt like it would burst from my chest, everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. I had her tied up and in the van but I was shaking too much with excitement to do anything else. I fell on top of her and just lie there for a moment, gasping for breath.

She wasn't moving, but it was a different kind of stillness now. She was waiting for my next move. As long as she thought I was Simon, she wouldn't fight me, that seemed clear, but she still wasn't trussed up securely enough.

My hands were simply shaking too much for me to deal with rope. I passed the duct tape around her knees a few times, and tore it off, then I went back to her wrists and made sure they were secure, taping them as well. Only then did I dare breathe.

Her face and shoulders were still covered by the laundry bag. I rolled her onto her back and now she spoke.

"Who are you?" she asked in a small voice.

She was helpless beneath me. The bag had slipped up in the struggle and her blouse had come open. Her skirt had ridden up above her knees, so high that I could see her panties, and I realized for the first time that I was hard as a rock, hard with excitement and lust for her. I just sat there on top of her, trying to control myself, trying to catch my breath, watching her breasts heave as she breathed, her fear slowly overtaking her.

"What are you doing to me?" she asked.

I couldn't even answer. The position we were in was like I had already just fucked her, her lying helpless beneath me, my knees on either side of her, my cock as hard as a piece of iron.

"You're not Simon, are you?" she asked again. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"You just lie still." I told her. "Just lie still and everything will be fine."

I got out of the van and closed and locked the back door, my heart still pounding. Outside all was still, not a sound. I quickly went over to her door and picked up her purse. I went through it and found her cell phone, fumbled with it until I got the battery out, and I but the phone and the battery in my pockets. Then I went back to the van, climbed into the driver's seat and started her up, and as I did an enormous shudder ran through my body.

I had done it! The bitch was mine!

I threw the van into gear and headed for the cabin.

 

[soliloquy]

At first Amy had thought that it was Simon, but from the moment she had become a captive her mind had been racing. First of all, this required planning time that Simon didn't have. Second of all, this didn't seem to be Simon's style. If he had the guts to try to take her against her will, which she doubted, he would have been more direct about it. He would have pushed her into her house, and she was fairly sure he wouldn't have been smart enough to not show his face to her.

The fact was that this had been planned, and planned well. It took someone fairly smart to manage this. And that was what finally scared Amy. She was now bound and tressed, and she had just...not fought it. How stupid could she have been?

The feeling of the vehicle starting up jolted Amy from her thoughts. Where were they going? She tried to speak up above the motor, but she wasn't sure he could hear her.

"Where are you taking me?" Stupid question. What criminal would answer that? There was a reason her sight was blocked from her. He didn't want her to know.

Amy felt tears tugging at the corners of her eyes, but she resolved not to cry. Not now. She couldn't panic. She needed her wits about her. She needed anger to fuel her, not fear.

The problem was that Amy was scared shitless. She had felt his erection, and that was all that she needed to convince herself that unless she did some crafty maneuvering, she was going to be raped.

The outlook was grim. He was stronger than her. It was possible that he was as smart as her, if not smarter. And he was playing this game on his terms, on his turf. She didn't have a lot of advantages in this situation.

She pulled at her bindings with futile effort. Finally, she gave up. There was nothing she could do at this moment but think. She had to think. Maybe her purse was in here. Maybe wshe could get to her cell phone.

Not likely, considering that she was bound like a calf led to the slaughter.

Damn it! There had to be something she could do.

The only thing she could come up with was that she would fight. She would fight until she couldn't anymore. She wouldn't let him win this game easily.

 

[dr_mabeuse]

Teddy has a string of vacation cabins his folks left him on Lake Shore Drive right above the lake. It’s nice property but it’s remote, and Ted doesn’t have the time or the inclination to take care of them , so only Cabin One is usable; the other four have been boarded up. Ted’s not a cabin-by-the-lake kind of guy, so he comes up here maybe a couple of times over the course of the summer, the rest of the time the place stays empty, so he lets me use them whenever I want, I just have to let him know ahead of time. I’d booked the place for two weeks that time. That should be more than enough time.

By the time I got up there it was about 2 in the morning. Actually, it was about 2 when I pulled off the blacktop and drove the jouncey mile down the dirt track that led to the cabins. I pulled up behind Cabin one and cut the engine.

Amy had found her tongue a few minutes after we left her place and had tried everything she knew, threatening, begging, making deals. I’d managed to ignore everything she said and now she was quiet.

I jumped out of the van and went inside for a quick run through. I’d just been up there the day before, but I wanted to make sure everything was still there. I’d disconnected the phone and locked it in Cabin Two and nailed boards over the other windows in the house. That wouldn’t keep her in indefinitely, but they’d slow down any escape. If she were really determined to get away, I knew I couldn’t really stop her. The idea was to do the whole thing so that she wouldn’t want to escape.

What I was doing was kidnapping, I knew that, and I was taking a hell of a risk. The one thing I was banking on was a kind of Stockholm Syndrome kind of thing, that after a few days with me she’d be willing to deal on my terms. After all, I was an old boyfriend, and no matter how much a bitch and a cock-tease she was, she wouldn’t have dated me for three weeks if she hadn’t thought that there was something there.

Standing there in the cabin, though, I suddenly had this queasy feeling in my stomach as I realized what I had done, what I was doing. Well, I was in it now, might as well go through with it.

Time for the unveiling.

I went to the van and opened the side doors. Amy was still lying there on her side, her knees up, her arms bound behind her back, the laundry bag still over her head. I took out my knife and cut the tape holding her ankles and knees together.

“Okay, Amy, here we are.” I said as I helped her out of the van. “Time to meet your host.”

I pulled the laundry bag off her head and she blinked her eyes and looked at me.

“Connor!” she gasped in disbelief. “Connor, what is this? A joke or something?”

I took her arm and propelled her into the cabin. This was when she’d be most dangerous, during transfers. I didn’t want her to have time to gather her wits. I pushed her inside and sat her down in the wooden armchair I’d put in the middle of the living room.

“Connor,” she whined, “I want to know what you think you’re doing. You scared the hell out of me and I don’t think this is the least bit funny. You must be out of your mind! Now untie me, damn it! And where are we anyhow? I can’t believe this! Are you totally nuts?”

I let her talk. I already had her hands behind the back of the chair and tied to the rungs on the leg. I got a rope around one ankle and managed to tie it to the leg of the chair but by the time I got to her other leg she’d recovered her wits enough to make it difficult. She still didn’t know how seriously to take this, but she tried kicking at me and struggled to free her hands. For all that I got her other leg tied to the chair as well. Then it was easy to throw a couple turns around her waist and tie her securely to the chair.

By the time I finished, she had decided to take this pretty damn seriously. She pulled furiously at her bonds, letting me have it with a string of epithets I was surprised she even knew. She struggled hard enough to move the chair across the floor a foot or two, but that was all she accomplished. That, and popping a few buttons on her overstuffed blouse and making her skirt ride up even higher on her legs.

For the first time since I’d jumped her I could afford to relax. Almost.

“Want a beer?” I asked her as I walked to the fridge.

“Damn it! Connor! Are you crazy? I don’t want a fucking beer! What are you doing to me? What is this? You let me go right now or I swear to God I’m gonna call the cops and have you arrested!”

I twisted the cap off a bottle and took a long pull. Beer never tasted so damn good in my whole life.

Amy had yelled herself out by now, but her eyes were filled with tears of rage. Her chin was even trembling.

“Sure you don’t want one?” I asked her again.

“You’re crazy, you know that? Why are you doing this to me?”

I went to the trunk of stuff I’d brought in earlier and took out a blindfold. I went behind her and slipped it over her eyes, and at that seemed to take the last bit of resistance out of her. She started to cry.

“Tell you what, Amy,” I said to her, “Why don’t you tell me why you think I’m doing this to you. Let’s see if you can guess.”

 

[soliloquy]

She had promised herself not to cry, but the fact that it was Connor doing this was too much for her. She had liked him a lot. It was too bad he had to turn octopus on her, because she had even thought he would be a good guy to settle down with. But now he was kidnapping her, and for what? She couldn't quite understand.

When he slipped the blindfold over her eyes, she felt like the two year old who believes that if you can't see them, they can't see you. Tears cascaded down her face in fury. Prick. Victimizing her like this.

"Fuck you, Connor. If you think I'm going to play your fucking games, then you're wrong." She spat this out at him, trying to let anger replace fear, let strength replace fear. But she was fighting a losing battle. The tears wouldn't stop.

He cupped her face in his hand. "Such filth from such a beautiful mouth. I really think you need to lighten up, Amy. You should have taken me up on the beer."

She could feel him closing in on her and her body stiffened in anticipation of what he would do. Would he hit her? Connor?

Before she had a moment to think, his mouth was on hers, prying her lips open with his tongue. She gasped in fear and felt beer surging into her mouth from his own. She had no choice but to swallow it. She'd never liked beer, but it was tolerable.

Once he pulled away from her, she heard him chuckle. "Amy, we have all the time in the world. I suggest you go ahead and guess. I really would be interested to know if you have any idea why I'm doing this."

Amy bit down on her lip, refusing to give him any comment at all, but then she felt him nearing her again. She had to stop him. If he wanted to play a game, she had no choice but to play.

"Fine, Connor, I'll guess!" She wished she could wipe the wetness from her face, but she supposed that asking for some help would be out of the question here. "The only thing that I can think of is that you're pissed I wouldn't put out for you. And you know what, Connor? If that's true, then this is a sad, sad situation you've put us in. If you could have just waited a while until I was sure. But all you men have to have it when you want it."

There was silence. Silence without the help of vision, or freedom of movement was unbearable. Was he angry at what she said? Did he even care?

"Well, Connor, am I right? Are you humiliating me because I wouldn't open my legs for you and take it?" Her words rang of more bravado than her voice could produce.

She thought she heard him snicker, but she couldn't be sure.

Then his hand was running down her face, her neck, over her chest. Her only defenses right now was her body and her voice. She stiffened the former and began to speak. "Please, Connor," she sobbed, "can't we talk about this?" His fingers brushed over her nipples and she shivered.

In a final plea, Amy sobbed out a choked and pathetic, "please..."

 

[dr_mabeuse]

I had to take a moment to savor this.

Amy was tied to an old wooden armchair, her wrists were still tied together, her arms over the back of the chair, making her breasts strain against her already overstuffed black blouse. The top few buttons had come undone in all the struggling showing a generous piece of her black bra and the rich swell of her chest; her dark, inviting cleavage. Her ankles were tied to the legs of the chair forcing her knees apart, which had caused her red skirt to ride up onto mid thigh. Even with her hair disheveled and the blindfold on, I’d never seen her look sexier.

“Well, Connor, am I right? Are you humiliating me because I wouldn't open my legs for you and take it?"

I went over to her and squatted down right in front of the chair, looking at her face, looking for some sign, some glimmer of understanding. I stroked her cheek, pressing my hand against her face, as if I could recall the way I’d felt about her by touching her. I ran my hand down over her neck, down over her breast where I touched her, feeling her firm softness, then down, down over her hip, down the length of her thigh till I hit the bare, smooth skin of her thigh. The feel of her body beneath my hand was so familiar. How many times had I caressed her just this way, trying to get some response out of her, some acknowledgement of how I felt about her, some reciprocated feeling?

“No Amy,” I said softly, “It wasn’t your legs that wanted opening. It was something more than that. And you still don’t have a clue, do you?”

She looked confused. Good, let her be confused. I stood up and was aware that my cock was hard inside my pants. The sight of her tied and helpless like this had made me hard.

I walked around behind her chair and took her breasts in my hands, squeezing her, feeling her.

“If you think this is just about sex, then fine,” I said, whispering in her ear. “Then let’s say it’s just about sex. But it’s more than that, Amy, it’s a lot more than that.”

I was so close to her ear I only had to lean forward to bring my lips against the side of her neck. She stiffened and drew away, but the feel of her warmth on my lips aroused me terribly. I kissed her there. I moved my lips down the slope of her neck, kissing her as I went, until I was stopped by the collar of her blouse.

My fingers went to the buttons on the front and started undoing them, and each button I opened gave me more slack, more skin to kiss. I just had to touch the buttons right over her breasts and they just popped open from the weight of her tits, and soon the blouse was open all the way down to her navel. I grabbed the collar and pulled it down off her shoulders, exposing even more skin.

The sight of her shoulders had always aroused me, and I knew that this was one of the few weak points in her armor: the back of her neck, her shoulders, behind her ears. My hands went back to her breasts, feeling them through her bra. They were rich, heavy, and they felt wonderful in my hands as I massaged them and dragged my finger tips across them.

“Do you know how many night I sat outside your apartment waiting for you to get home?” I asked her as I licked her neck. “Hoping to see you, hoping to talk to you. And always you were with another guy, and always it was the same story. You let them get so far and no farther. You egg them on, you encourage them, and then you slam the door in their face. Every time, Amy. Every time.”

She was still tense, still tight, but she’d let her head roll to the side to give me access to her neck. She was breathing a little faster now.

My hands left her breasts and moved down to her legs, to the hem of her skirt, which I now started to gather up, making the skirt creep up her smooth and naked thighs.

“No,” she said. “They were just guys. Just dates. I didn’t owe them anything. Besides, it’s none of your business what I do, Connor.”

The shirt was up around her hips now. I reached down with both hands and dragged my finger tips along her thighs, from her knees up to very edge of her skirt. I was still kissing her neck. She was so delicious. She still drove me wild, just the feel of her beneath my hands drove me wild.

I dropped my hands again, this time to the insides of her knees, and this time I raked my nails lightly up the insides of her thighs, stopping only when I could feel the humid warmth of her crotch. I felt her twitch and shudder.

“Well the games are over now, Amy. Whoever they were, the game is over.” I said into her ear. “Now it’s time to pay, and I’m going to collect.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

I left one hand to stroke the inside of her thigh, the other I brought up and used to make her turn her mouth to me. I kissed her lips, lightly, teasingly, just feeling her lips with my own, remembering what she felt like when she kissed me.

“I’m not going to do anything, Amy.” I said. “You are. You’re going to sit her and get so hot that you’re going to beg me to fuck you. Beg me to touch you, beg me to give you my cock. And once you get that hot, once you beg and plead, then maybe I will. Or maybe I won’t”

 

[soliloquy]

Amy's mouth was suddenly dry as his hands and lips worked over her skin, the beer growing stale in her mouth. Realization dawned all of a sudden. She was going to get a taste of her own medicine. She must have hurt him more deeply than she realized. For a brief moment she felt guilt and regret.

That moment was fleeting, however, when she felt his finger graze over the silky material covering her crotch. Anger resurfaced, but she managed to keep her voice low and calm. "No, Connor. Whatever delusions you have about what is going to happen here, I will not beg you. Not for anything."

His finger pressed against her clit through the material, and she felt a tingle warm her thighs. He laughed softly. "You've already begged me, Amy. Remember in the van? And just a few minutes ago? 'Please Connor, can't we talk about this?'" His finger rubbed so slowly against her pussy that she had to grit her teeth to will her body not to respond.

Whatever Amy wanted people to believe, she was extremely sexually responsive, even when she wished most not to be. Her body would always betray her most hidden desires. She had spent years fighting the cruelty that her body subjected her to.

A tear escaped her as the truth of his statement hit her. She had begged. Twice, maybe even three times now. But she would not beg him for sex. That would be too degrading.

He wanted her to feel bad for what she had done to him. That much she understood. What more there was, she couldn't comprehend, but felt that that would come to her in time. Maybe she could make ammends and he would let her go of his own accord. She could apologize. After all, she did feel bad for hurting him to the point that he would exact such revenge upon her.

"Connor, baby," she nearly cooed, trying to get him to respond to her as he used to, "I'm sorry if I hurt you. I didn't know. Really, I didn't. Just...just talk to me..."

His finger stopped moving and she thought perhaps she had gotten to him. The snort that followed, however, showed her how transparent she had been.

"Nice try Amy," he whispered close to her ear. She tensed as his lips pressed against her ear lobe. He knew her weaknesses and he would play them against her. His lips captured her lobe and tugged gently, drawing a soft moan from within her. His hand returned to her thigh, drawing circles along the inside, each one closer to her pussy than the one before.

She didn't want him to touch her pussy. She didn't want him to find that her body had betrayed her so, pouring forth the sweet wetness of arousal. That would be his lie detector.

"Kiss me, Connor," she begged in desperation, hoping to find his hands on either side of her face...as far from her aching loins as possible.

 

[dr_mabeuse]

She was getting to me, there was no doubt about it, but I was getting to her too. \

Amy was not as frigid as you might think, and she didn’t cut guys off because they left her cold, not in my case anyhow. There had been times with her where she’d really had to fight to control herself not to give in, and I still remembered one time especially where she’d almost lost it with me, on the couch in my apartment when I had her tee shirt up over her tits, her shorts opened and my hand stroking her pussy, my lips on her nipple. I’d taken hold of her hair, out of my mind with need for her, and pulled her down onto the sofa, laid on top of her so my cock pressed against her through my pants, pulled her leg up over me and was pushing against her, so close, just a couple of layers of fabric separating us and she trembling with need as well. Yet at the last moment she’d managed to get away on the pretext of suddenly needing the bathroom.

When she'd come back into the room she was dressed again and in control and demanded to be taken home.

"Kiss me, Connor," she said now, and I guess that kind of counted as begging, didn’t it? Asking, at least.

I was still standing behind her, her face turned back to me, her eyes closed. She was very kissable.

But it wasn’t good enough.

The only real defense I had against her was my anger at how she’d treated me at the end, and I called on that now. I forced myself to see her the way she looked when she’d walked away from me, nose in the air, shoulders back, tits out, God’s own princess.

Instead of kissing her I just left her there and went over to my box of toys. Part of the satisfaction in getting revenge like this is in the planning, and I had a list of fantasies that I’d wanted to try on her, and my favorites all involved this thing that I now took out of the toy box and ripped out of its blister-pack wrapping.

It was a vibrating egg. A sex toy, but this one was remote control. There was a wireless controller that used batteries to control the speed of the vibrator from up to 50 feet away. I ripped open a package of double A’s (Don’t forget the batteries!) and loaded up the controller.

Amy heard what I was doing but she couldn’t see. She sat there with her clothes half off her, one bra strap down, listening with all her might.

“Listen, Amy.” I said casually. “We’re going to be here for a while and it’s been a long day, so if you don’t mind, I’m going to jump in the shower, okay?”

She didn’t say anything. I tried the vibrator, and it worked perfectly, I felt the slow throbbing of the unit in my hand, turned up the speed and felt it buzz like a giant bee.

I came up in front of Amy and squatted down. Her skirt just covered her crotch so I pushed it out of the way and looked at her panty-covered sex, the object of so much thought and effort on my part, so silly.

“I don’t want you to feel lonely while I’m gone, so I got you something to keep you company.”

I very carefully pulled the crotch band of her panties away from her and slid the egg inside, where it nestled right against her pussy. Amy gasped at the coldness of the smooth plastic.

“Connor…” she said.

I didn’t know if it would stay in place once it started working, so I strapped it in place with a couple of pieces of medical adhesive tape, going from the top of one thigh down and under the opposite ass cheek, making a big X. X marks the spot, I thought.

“Connor, what are you…”

I hit the switch and cut her off.

You know how in movies when they show some guy getting the electric chair you see his body suddenly snap rigid, jerking at the straps? We;; that’s pretty close to what Amy did when I turned on the unit. She must have known what it was when I strapped it against her, but I guess she wasn’t expecting me to be able to activate it from a distance, and it took her totally by surprise. She jerked upright and her mouth fell open, then she sank back into the chair.

I switched it off.

“You bastard!” she breathed.

I turned it back on, on low, and got the same reaction, less pronounced now. I kept it on low. I didn’t want her to orgasm, I didn’t want her getting off. I just wanted to get her so close than she wouldn’t be able to stand it. This slow, throbbing speed seemed the best bet.

Amy shoved her hips forward as far as she could, seeking some sort of pressure against her pussy to stop the vibrations, but there was no pressure to be had. Just that evil little unit throbbing against her cunt.

I slipped the unit into my pocket and went to her. Her brows were furrowed, he mouth open. I think that the blindfold must have made her think that I couldn’t see her either, because I’ve never seen Amy’s face screwed into such a look of sexual need and desire. For a moment I had the wild idea that if I pulled my cock out and put it by her mouth she would open up and suck me in. She looked that hot.
I leaned over her and gave her shell-like ear a little lick. I reached around in front of her and slid my hand down to her crotch and felt the little monster thrumming away against her clit, so strong that I could feel the vibrations in her thighs, in her stomach. I raised my hand and slid it inside her bra, against the delicious warmth of her breast. Her nipple was stiff against my palm and I had another urge right then to just throw her on the bed and fuck her, just like that, just make her take me, rape her if it came down to it. But I stopped myself.

“So you just relax,” I said to her. “I’ll just hop into the shower and I’ll be out in maybe ten-fifteen minutes, okay? Maybe a little longer…”

“Oh God, Connor!” she moaned.

I stood up and walked into the bedroom where the shower was, but I didn’t go in.

I just leaned against the door frame and watched her, the controller in my hand.

 

[soliloquy]

Amy threw her head back when she heard him leave the room, and furrowed her brow in concentration. While he was gone, if she could just orgasm. If she could get it over with, then maybe she could resist him; maybe she could reduce the amount of degradation faced on her part.

The egg warmed her thighs and up to her midriff, while her nipples seemed to pulse with desire. She shifted to try to rub her pussy along the egg, hoping for more stimulation. Unfortunately, the binds that held her prevented much movement at all, and the tape on the egg didn't allow the egg to move at all.

She choked on a sob of pure frustration as the vibrations drove her just to the point of madness, but not beyond.

How could he do this to her? Why was he so cruel as to use her sexuality against her? This was worse, she was sure, than being manhandled and raped. This was like chinese water torture: not painful, but annoying enough to simulate pain.

Thinking that he was out of earshot, she said everything she didn't want him to here. "Oh for fuck's sake, Connor, just let me cum!" A tear trickled down her face as she cried out, "why, you prick? WHY?"

Above the low hum of the egg and the intense humming in her body, she thought she heard something. She stopped moving, and tried to concentrate on any sounds. Her head moved as if she were looking for something, but the blindfold prevented that.

"Connor?" she whispered. "Are you there?"

There was nothing but silence.

"Yeah, well, fuck you, too..." she said, but in a low, unconvincing tone.

The problem with this situation was clear: the only person who could help her was the man victimizing her.

Suddenly, the buzz of the egg was intensified a bit, and Amy shook with a mix of surprise and relief. But as soon as it had come, it was gone. The low, frustrating vibrations began again. How long would he keep her like this?

She began to sweat as the torture continued.

 

[dr_mabeuse]

I really didn’t like doing this. Oh, I liked seeing Amy squirm, I liked making her ache like she had made me and so many other men ache, I just didn’t like seeing her sitting there in such heat without doing something about it. But I know I had to wait.

This was the way I’d wanted her: her bare shoulders hunched together, her body curled around the vibrating egg that played against her sex, filling her mind with the desperate need for relief. I could see her face in the mirror opposite, the look of desire on her face. I could see the way she tried to bring her knees together, trying to increase the pressure of the vibrator, a pressure that was just enough to keep her aroused but not enough to satisfy that arousal.

A few more minutes, I thought. I tore myself away and went in the bathroom, stripped off my clothes and jumped in the shower. I hadn’t been in there five minutes, but when I got out and turned off the water, I heard Amy moaning. I’d never heard her make that sound before, not in all the time I’d known her.

I wrapped a towel around me and went into the front room. She was still in the chair, her head back, her hips pushed forward on the chair as far as they would go. She was trembling all over, her body jerking with the pangs of need that burned through her. Her anguished moans and the steady hum of the vibrator were the only sounds in the room.

I was hard before I even reached her in the chair. I took off her blindfold and she looked at me with pleading in her eyes, begging me to let her come. I ripped the towel from my waist and let my cock spring free, hard and rampant, more than ready for her. Amy looked at it, and then looked back at me. Maybe she couldn’t say it. Maybe she’d never be able to say it, but her eyes said it for her.

I reached down and untied her ankles from the chair, undid the rope from around her waist and freed her hands from the chair. I pulled her to her feet and she could hardly stand; her wobbly legs just wouldn’t support her. I just kind of dragged her the few steps to the bedroom and threw her down in the big bed.

The egg was still taped in place, still thrumming away at her pussy. I hadn’t untied her wrists; I didn’t trust her enough for that. I found my knife and slid the blade carefully between her breasts and with one cut I severed the cups of her bra and freed her tits.

Her expression during all this had not changed. It was still one of pain or suffering. I pushed her down on her back and ripped the tape holding the vibe off her and threw the egg into the corner. I yanked her panties off her, and she immediately opened her legs for me, raising her knees and spreading them as her body continued to twitch and buck convulsively. I got between her thighs and took my big prick in my hand.

“Oh Godddd!” I moaned as I sank into her. She was soft and tight and hot and very wet and my cock sunk into her like a hot knife into a tub of butter. She was sobbing now and her legs immediately closed behind me, holding me to her as her hips punched up at me. I was on my hands and knees, my eyes rolled up into my head at how fucking good she felt and then she began fucking me. She did the work, pushing her pussy at me and then pulling at me, trying to draw me deeper into her. I closed my eyes. My hands found her delicious breasts. I filled my hands with her tits and began to kiss and suck at them, my thumbs pushing at her stiff nipples.

Amy, my cock-teasing Amy, fucking me like the most shameless whore in all of creation, no longer caring about her dignity, her reputation, what others might think of her. She cared only about my big hard cock inside her and how she could get herself off on it.

I wanted to fuck her, thrust into her, but it was obvious that she knew what she was doing, that she knew exactly where she wanted me and how she wanted me to move to wring the most pleasure from my aching prick, so I just held myself over her on my knees and elbows and let her do all the work. She grit her teeth, squeezed her eyes shut panting through her flared nostrils as she sought to take me so that she could rub her engorged clit on my pubic bone. Her pussy sucked at me, squeezed me, did things I never even imaged a pussy could do, and when she had me just where she wanted me, when she started humping me with a steady, frenzied rhythm, she lifted her head up far enough to look down between her heaving tits and see my big stalk plunging into her and that put her over the edge.

Any threw her head back against the pillows, she opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out. Instead her whole body went as stiff as a bow string and she started to quiver, to tremble, to shake. Her hips punched up off the bed, lifting me up as she took me all the way and then she came.

For the first few seconds there wasn’t a sound except for me panting as I felt my own orgasm come rushing up from it seemed the soles of my feet. Amy held me off the bed, her body bent like a bow, held me and quivered against me, her cunt pumping at my cock, here breasts trembling on her chest. Then she screamed. She screamed just as my own molten load burned up through my cock and flew splattering into her sucking pussy, slathering her with my hot cream.

Amy screamed, I groaned as we tried to fuse out bodies together. I was gushing into her like a fire hose and she must have felt every burst judging from the way she screamed and fucked up at me, eager to take everything I could give her.

I held on to her with my hands dug into the cheeks of her ass, holding her to me as everything drained out of me, all the anguish and longing, the fear and tension of the last few days, it all just came pouring out of me with a wonderful feeling of relief, and Amy took it all willingly, gasping out her pleasure with each fiery burst.

At last it began to fade. Her hips fell back onto the bed and I dug my cock stubbornly into her, spurting out the last few drops of my enormous come. I collapsed on top of her with my face pressed to her neck, inhaling her wonderful scent, feeling the most delicious release I’d ever known.

 

[soliloquy]

Amy had never cum like that in her life. It wasn't harder than any orgasm she had had before. No, that wasn't it. She had never had an orasm that was so entwined with so many emotions before. She felt shame, guilt, fear, anger, loathing, ecstasy...she couldn't list all the emotions on her hands and toes combined.

Her body stilled and then flowed back into normalcy except for the tinge of arousal and need that remained. She felt Connor cum inside her and she awoke to the reality of the moment. He had raped her without raping her. He'd made her a willing party to the rape, and therefore negated any true criminal essence of the act.

She began to sob. Overwrought and exhausted, she had no more energy to think. There were only these damned emotions. The shame. She had acted like a ten dollar whore, humping his cock and using it to get off.

Her skin blushed red as she took stock of her own character in the last few minutes. Nothing she could do would take this moment from her, let her be the woman that she had fought so hard to be. Connor would always be there in her brain, reminding her of what a slut she had been.

Connor laid beside her and gently stroked the hair off of her face. She automatically turned her head away from him. Another sob racked her whole body. Amazing, she thought, how a sob was so much like an orgasm. The place of origin was different, but the reaction of the body was so similar.

A small voice in her head said, "It's over, Amy."

For the first time since he had strapped that damned egg to her, she felt relief. It was over. He had gotten what he had taken her for. She sighed and turned to him.

Recollecting her demeanor she grinned at him wryly, the anger in her eyes shining forth. "Was it good for you?"

He seemed oblivious to her mood. "Oh God yes, Amy," he said, running his fingers over her stomach.

She twitched to try to get his hand off of her. "Okay. You've fucked me now, Connor. Even got me to all but beg for it. You're the man. You turned me on, made me cum, and got to fuck me. Now, could you please take me home?"

It was only as she bit out the last words that she noticed the tenderness in his face. Fuck, but this was a twisted night.

 

[dr_mabeuse]

"Okay. You've fucked me now, Connor. Even got me to all but beg for it. You're the man. You turned me on, made me cum, and got to fuck me. Now, could you please take me home?"

I was lying next to her, stroking her face, just looking at her. Her hands were still tied behind her back, her clothes were ripped, torn, bunched around her waist. My semen was even now dripping from between her legs.

"Oh, I don't think so, Amy. Not just yet."

"What? You want to do it again? Is that it? Or do you have some friends hiding outside waiting to take their turn?" she asked bitterly.

I stood up and stretched.

“Roll over, Amy. I’ll untie your hands.”

She looked at me suspiciously. “Then we’re done? You’ll take me home?”

“I didn’t say that.” I said as I cut the rope holding her wrists together. “Besides, I can’t take you home. I threw the keys to the van into the weeds outside. It would take us a month to find them.”

She sat up, rubbing her wrists, looking at me from under her brows.

“Liar.” she said.

I sat back down on the bed. “Go ahead,” I said, “You want to go? Go right ahead. But I’d at least wait until daytime. It’s about a mile walk to the highway and it’s dark out there.”

She slid cautiously out of bed and stood there as if poised to make a sudden dash for it, then she looked at herself.

“And what am I supposed to wear? You’ve just destroyed my clothes.”

I got up and opened the closet door. I had bought her clothes: jeans, tee shirts, shoes, even some dresses and playwear, the kinds of things I would have liked to see her in if she ever gave in. They were all hanging in the closet, shoes on the floor, still with the tissue paper in them.

Amy looked at me with abject surprise on her face, as if she suddenly realized that I was truly insane and possibly dangerous. She sidled over to the closet, took some of the clothes out and checked the labels.

“These are my size.” she said with wonder. “All this stuff; they’re all my size.”

I nodded. “Most of them your brands too. I didn’t have time to get to Victoria’s Secret though, so that stuff is from Frederick’s. Sorry.”

I don’t know if she heard me. She was still going through the clothes. “Connor, these are all my size! Did you buy these?”

I went to the dresser and opened the top drawer and gestured. Amy came over as if sleepwalking, still holding some clothes from the closet.

The drawer held bras and panties, stockings, socks, even a basket containing makeup and her perfume, all of them the same stuff she used, as far as I could remember, everything brand new. She looked at it everything, mouth hanging open.

I pulled out the second drawer. Clean towels and bed linen, brushes and a blow drier, soap and shampoo, the kind of razor she used in the shower, even a box of tampons.

“My God, Connor, you’re insane!” she said, “You’re really just insane! You’re frightening me!”

I smiled. “Not that bad, I hope. But yeah, I’ve been a little obsessed with you.”

She had picked up a loofah from the second drawer. It was the same as the one I’d seen in her bathroom, with a handle on it for reaching your back. She sank down on the bed holding the stuff in her arms, staring at me, not knowing what to think.

“How long were you going to keep me here?” she asked.

I shrugged. “About four or five days, maybe a week. Depends on how long it takes for them to find us.”

“So you have this all planned out?”

Now it was my turn to laugh in disbelief. “Kind of looks that way, doesn’t it?”

“But why?” she asked me. “Just so you could fuck me?”

I closed the drawer. “It’s a little more than that, Amy.”

She looked at me blankly.

“I wanted your attention, Amy. I wanted you to give me your undivided attention for just a few days without worrying about all the other crap you spend your time thinking about: your clothes, your job, yourself.” I stopped, then added, “Of course I wanted to fuck you too.”

She ignored this last part. “Are you saying you think I’m self-centered?” she asked me.
I would have laughed in her face if she hadn’t been so naively serious. It was like Rasputin asking you if you thought his hair might be a bit too long.

“You’re a nation of one.” I said. “With no foreign policy whatsoever.”

I turned and walked into the kitchen. I was suddenly famished, so I started boiling the water for some pasta. Fettuccini Alfredo, if I remembered right. Some kind of pasta dish made with everything bad for you. It was one of her favorites, and something I could make.

Amy came to the door still holding the clothes and the loofah to her chest, as if for protection. She looked totally bewildered.

“So you won’t take me back?” she asked.

“I told you, I can’t.”

She thought about this, then said. “Then what am I supposed to do?”

“Well, I’d suggest you shower and get some clothes on and have something to eat. You can figure out what you want to do tomorrow.”

 

[soliloquy]

Amy was fairly sure that he was lying about the keys, but there wasn't anything she could do. She was so exhausted that she couldn't quite process what was going on. He had figured out everything about her. Not just things that he would have noticed in the time they dated, but things that he would have had to have worked to find out.

Shaking off the creepiness of the situation, Amy quietly walked to the shower, checking over her shoulder to make sure he wasn't following her. She looked at her disheveled self in the mirror and felt like crying again. She truly looked like a hooker. No, a hooker didn't necessarily enjoy her job. She looked like a bonafide slut, through and through.

Sighing, she adjusted the water and slipped into the shower. The water felt wonderful cascading down her skin. She let it pour over her for a bit before using the soaps and shampoos he had set out for her. Such consideration for a rapist, she thought wryly. The problem was that she was finding it harder to call him a rapist, even in her mind. There was something very unusual about this situation.

Her hands slid over her body, and she began to soap her mound. It began to tingle, and warmth spread through her thighs and into her belly. She began to think about what it must have looked like when Connor was fucking her. She remembered every last detail, every smell, every sound, every push of her cunt into him.

Without realizing it, Amy had her fingers sliding through her wetness. It was only her own moan that woke her from her reverie. She wanted to stop. She couldn't believe she was going to get off on thoughts of an event she should feel nauseous over. She began to cry, but the need to orgasm again wouldn't allow her mind to rule over her body. Soon, she was tumbling into the abyss, her body slumping under the shower. Her moans and sobs mixed together, and she was sure he probably heard them. Hell, he was probably just outside the shower.

That thought got her moving. Quickly she finished up her shower and stepped out. Suprisingly enough, Connor was not in the bathroom, and she sighed in relief. She wrapped a towel around her head, and put the robe on instead of night wear. She was too tired to put forth any energy.

She stepped out of the bathroom to find Connor waiting for her. She looked away from him and spoke softly. "I'll sleep on the couch."

He walked slowly toward her and enfolded her in his arms. She stiffened and tried to push away, but he only held her closer. "No, Amy," he said with gentle demand, "there is a perfectly good bed that we can sleep in."

She pulled away effectively this time. "Connor, all I want to do is sleep."

He smiled. "If that's what you think you want, then we'll sleep, Amy."

She looked at him in disbelief. "You think you know what I want better than I do? Connor, you haven't even known me that long. I know what I want, and what I want is to sleep, alone, without your paws on me. But I suppose that I don't have any choices here."

He unwrapped the towel from around her head and combed through her damp hair with his fingers. She didn't even bother flinching. Her resolve was giving away. "Yes, Amy, I know what you want better than you do. You've spent too much time telling yourself you can't want. So you pretend you don't. But your body tells a completely different story than your mouth."

Amy whirled away from him and trembled as she spoke. "Connor, if you don't realize that I am more than just my body, then you don't understand anything at all. I'm not a whore. Even you can't make me a whore."

Connor didn't attempt to touch her. "No, you're not a whore. But you are a slut."

It wasn't so much his words that pissed her off as it was her body's reaction to being called a slut. It craved those words. It tingled at them. "Fuck you, Connor. I'm going to bed."

She sank into the bed, not even bothering to pull the covers back.

 

[dr_mabeuse]

She lay down on the bed still wearing her robe, dragged a pillow over her head and pretended to go to sleep.

I went to my toy box and got out a pair of police handcuffs, came back and slapped the one on her wrist.

“What are you doing? Connor, no. How am I going to sleep with handcuffs on?” Amy looked at me with anger and exasperation.

“When you’re tired enough, you’ll find a way.” I said, “Meanwhile I can’t take any chances on you getting heroic in the middle of the night.”

She was still fuming, so I added. “Look, when we were going out, we did things your way by your rules. For the few days I have with you, we’ll do things by my rules, okay? Humor me, Amy. When they put me away it’ll be for a long, long time, so just humor me now.”

She looked at me suspiciously. “What do you mean, ‘when they put you away?”

I sat down and smiled at her. “Don’t you think I know what’ll happen to me once they find us? Kidnapping, rape, assault. They’ll lock me up and throw away the key.”

I chained the cuff to the headboard and checked to see that she was secure, then I went into the kitchen. The pasta was done but suddenly I wasn’t very hungry anymore, so I just covered the pasta, put the stuff for the sauce away and checked the door to make sure it was locked. I turned off the lights and went into the bedroom.

Amy was lying there, her hands locked together.

“You expect to go to jail for this?” she asked me.

I sat down on the side of the bed and took off my shoes. “Uh-huh.”

“Then why are you doing this? Is it really worth the rest of your life just to get me into bed?”

I gave a bitter laugh. “So far, no. But there’s still time. Maybe it will be.”

“Then why don’t you just let me go and we’ll forget about this? I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

“Too late for that, Amy. The dye is cast, the deed’s been done, all that stuff.”

I got up and went to the bathroom. She’d been very neat about her shower, everything was back in it’s place. I recognized the scent of her soap, the scent that linger on her skin when I kissed her. I brushed my teeth and washed my face, just like it was a normal day.
I stripped off my pants and shirt so that I was in my shorts. I turned off the lights, plunging the bedroom into that deep and soft darkness you only find out in the country, away from the city and from other people.

I got into bed, got under the covers. Amy was lying with her back to me.

For a long moment she said nothing but I could feel her waiting in the dark.

Finally she spoke. “Are you going to fuck me again?”

I sighed. “Right now I’d settle for a kiss. Anything that I didn’t have to drag out of you.”

 

[soliloquy]

Amy didn't answer him. She was exhausted and confused as to his motives. If this was merely about sexual revenge, then why would he have said that? None of the puzzle pieces fit together, and even if they did, Amy didn't have the mental energy to see which tabs fit in which slots.

She tried to sleep, sensing him beside her, but not touching her. Her wrist already ached from the cuff, and it was hard to get comfortable. She had passed exhaustion long ago, and now it was hard to fall asleep, comfortable or not.

She managed to doze off and on, but sleep would not come to her. "Connor?" she whispered.

His answer was the soft breathing that tickled her neck. Damn. She thought maybe she could convince him to let her loose of the shackles.

She tried to flip over to face him, but the cuff hurt worse that way. Finally she settled on her back, and turned her head to look at him. He was very peaceful looking. His strong features softened in his sleep, and Amy was reminded of the very things that had attracted her to him in the first place. He had been gentle most of the time, and kind. This kidnapping had thrown her for a loop.

Sighing, Amy began to drift off to sleep. Dreams haunted her, but she would not remember them in the morning.

When morning did come, Amy awoke to find herself embraced by Connor, who had thrown one of his legs over her. At first she moaned in content, but the feel of the cuff on her wrist reminded her of why she was in this man's arms.

"Connor, wake up" she said firmly. He shifted a bit, his hand grazing over her stomach, making her stiffen a bit.

"Connor!" She spoke more loudly, and she could feel him stirring, his face nuzzling into her neck.

"Mmmmm," he moaned into her neck. Her nipples tightened.

"For God's sake, Connor, wake up!"

Finally, he awoke, "huh?" he grunted sleepily.

"I have to go to the bathroom. You have to unlock me."

He gazed down her body with sleepy, but lustfilled eyes. Just the way he looked at her had her blood pounding in her head.

"Please," she whimpered as his hand moved up to cup her breast possessively.

She had to get out of here.

 

[dr_mabeuse]

"I have to go to the bathroom. You have to unlock me."

It was Amy, and it was some kind of morning..

I had my leg over her and her breast in my hand, and whatever wonderful thing I’d been dreaming slipped away from me as I woke up.

“Please.” she said.

You can’t argue with nature, and I’m a great respecter of bathroom privileges. I’d already told her that she was free to go whenever she wanted, and I’d meant it. The only reason I’d locked her up was to keep her from pulling a Bobbitt job on me while I slept.

I opened the cuffs and she slid off the bed and went into the bathroom without a word. When she came back I made her put the cuffs on again then I took my turn.

This wasn’t turning out the way I’d planned, and it wasn’t even going wrong the way I’d planned. I’d expected her to succumb to my earnest affections after I got her to at least listen to the way I felt about her. I know how stupid that sounds now, but that’s what I’d thought. If not that, then I figured she’d get furious enough about this whole thing that I’d feel justified in just taking whatever I wanted from her without compunction.

Instead what I got was the same old Amy. Instead of making me feel like I was a dangerous sexual menace, she managed to make me feel something like an irritating kid brother.

I looked at myself in the mirror as I thought about shaving. If I shaved she’d know I was still trying to look good for her. If I didn’t, I’d hurt her skin if she ever let me get close to her. I sank down on the toilet seat with the wad of shaving cream still in my hand and shook my head. Yeah, this felt familiar. This was the Amy experience. I felt just like the way she always made me feel, and I was sick of it.

I washed the cream off my hand and went back into the bedroom. She was lying on her side facing away, all ready to ignore me. I got on the bed and slid up against her, took her arm and turned her on her back. Before she could say anything I kissed her.

This time she didn’t turn away. She kept her lips firmly together and closed her eyes, determined to endure my worst, but I was determined too. This girl was made for love, or at least her body was, and I was going to do as I’d planned. I was going to enjoy her even if I had to pull it out of her with a crowbar.

I didn’t force, didn’t insist. Instead of insisting that she like what I was doing, I did as I wanted. If she wouldn’t kiss me, I could still kiss her, and I did so, lightly, little kisses along her tightly compressed lips. I slid my hand under her robe and found her breast, soft and warm, and my finger tips traced a languorous spiral around it, headed for but never reaching her nipple as I ran the tip of my tongue down the tight crease of her stubborn mouth.

Patience, patience. I had all the time in the world. The sun was coming up over the trees by the lake and spilling onto the bed, warming us both. I kissed my way gently down her cheek, stopping for a lover’s bite to her earlobe and then down the smooth slope of her neck.

It was quiet in the room and I could hear her breathing through her nose, deep and steady as she endured my attentions. She was willing herself not to show any excitement, but I could hear her breathing acceperating and gettiing deeper.

“I know what you’re trying to do.” she said firmly. “You’re wasting your time, Connor.”

“Good,” I said as I kissed her throat. “I’ve got time to waste.”

When I came up to her mouth she still had her lips together, but not so tightly. I was able to take her lower lip between mine and brush my tongue across it and I was able to do the same to her upper lip. By now I was circling her nipple with my finger, getting ready to attack. I timed my assault to correspond with my renewed offensive on her mouth once more. Despite her words, this time I found the guards had left their posts and the fortress was temporarily undefended. Her lips parted just a bit as I kissed her: the walls were breached. I was not inside the palace yet, but the defenses were just beginning to show the strain, and as I finally touched and stroked her nipple she made a small sound in her throat. It was either a sound of irritation or a plea for mercy. I ignored it and I was right to, because her mouth suddenly opened a bit wider, enough that I could believe she was kissing me back.

Still no let-up. I gave her no quarter. Having assured myself that her nipple was beginning to peak with excitement, I pressed on. My lips were still locked to hers, her hands were over her head, clipped to the chain from the headboard, leaving her entire body defenseless. I untied the sash of her robe and slowly spread the robe open, dragging it across her naked body, exposing her entire body to the sun that now flooded into the room. I dragged my fingers down from her breast, over her ribs, over her belly, which trembled slightly as I rode across it, and down to her thighs once again. There was no sense in trying to assault her main gates until the outlying defenses had been taken care of. I would attack through the inside of her thighs. I knew she was weakest there.

She was kissing me now. Amy was actually kissing me and there was nothing phony about it. Her mouth was open, her eyes closed, and she let my tongue enter, teasing it tentatively with her own. But the battle was far from over. She’d let me get this close before, though never when she was so undressed, never in such a helpless state, and I knew that she could still shut me down. It could still be a trap.

Springing such a trap, in fact, was Amy’s own specialty, but I pressed on, throwing all I had into the multi-front offensive, my lips on hers, one other hand playing with her hair, the other caressing her thighs.

When I slipped my hand down to the inside of her thigh and pulled slightly, she opened her legs to accomodate me.

This is when it's most dangerous, when victory seems so close, when the troops are eager to rush her all at once, to loot and plunder. That's where I had made my mistakes before; I would not make the same mistake again.

This time I would not take her by force but by subterfuge. This time I wouldn;t try and storm the gates. This time I would wait for betrayal from within. I would wait for Amy to open the gates herself.

 

[soliloquy]

Amy was fighting a losing battle. She knew it, Connor knew it, and there wasn't much she could do about it. His lips on hers urged her to respond, his tongue milking the heat throughout her body, his hands lingering on her skin just enough to keep her wanting more. And she did want it, dammit. She wanted to feel the cataclysmic shudder that she had experienced only so many hours before.

Her body spoke for her, as words would not come to her mouth. She opened her legs and expected him to thrust his fingers inside. Surprisingly, Connor did not. He was just full of surprises. Instead, two fingertips lightly grazed over her rapidly swelling pussy lips as his tongue luxuriated in her mouth.

She moaned with raw desire into his mouth as if to beg for more. He lifted his head, and looked into her eyes, but his fingers did not shift course or method. Amy closed her eyes, and her face tightened with resolve: a dwindling, useless resolve to keep him from winning this round.

His head descended to her breast, and he took a nipple gently into his mouth, just tasting her. Had he tried to force a response out of her with a more aggressive touch, he would not have been as successful. She groaned in desperation, and it rang out into the room like a song they both needed to hear.

Perhaps he took that as his cue, she did not know, but his fingers were now between her lips, still tracing the same maddening path. She wanted to beg him to give her release, but Amy was more stubborn than that.

Her tactics changed before she had sense enough to stop them. "Wait, Connor," she gasped as a finger barely touched her clit, "I...want...ed to talk...to you...about..." she was finding it hard to speak, as her breath was intent on focusing on an impending orgasm.

"Amy, do shut up, please." His teeth grazed over her nipple lightly and she nearly screamed.

"Fuck...Connor..." she panted, "just...fuck...me already."

He ignored her. The bastard ignored her.

Finally, Amy had had enough. She was tired of him, and she was tired of herself. All she wanted right now was to come harder than she ever had before. She might burn in hell for it, and she might give Connor a leg up in this race for it, but damned if she wouldn't live out the pleasure while she could.

Shame could come later.

Her hips began to buck off the bed, asking him to thrust something inside her. His fingers quickened, but they did not give her what she wanted.

She knew what she had to do, and though it killed her spirit a bit, she did.

"Connor," she whimpered in the voice of a child, "I want you."

The problem with this request was that she wasn't entirely sure what he wanted out of this whole situation. Perhaps wanting him wasn't enough. It would have to be for this moment, though.

His fingers lazily spread the evidence of her arousal over her mound as he looked into her eyes, almost daring her to look away. He was searching for truth, she thought.

"Please, Connor. I want you now."

 

[dr_mabeuse]

“Please, Connor. I want you now."

That should have been it. That’s what I was waiting for: her confession, not only that she wanted me, but that she was human, that she had needs too, and she needed someone else to fulfill them for her.

But you know, it wasn’t enough somehow. Her needing me to help her out like I was a fucking backscratcher or dildo wasn’t enough. I knew I was teasing her, I was being cruel. Maybe I enjoyed it. Maybe it made me feel like a big man.

I slid down her body dragging my tongue over her, tasting that perfect skin, over her chest, over her breast, her nipple still wet with my saliva, Lower, over her ribs, her belly, which trembled as I ran my tongue over it, kissing her navel, sticking my tongue in her, kissing her below her bellybutton, licking at the top of her patch of pubic hair. She knew where I was going now and she whimpered in protest. She might have told me no. I wasn’t really listening anymore.

I was dying for her, but I wanted her to be dying for me too. She still had her hands cuffed to the bed. She wasn’t going anywhere. I raised my face over her pussy, scraped my cheeks over her soft pubic hair. She was holding her thighs together even as they trembled with need, still trying to deny herself to me. No. I was going to make her mine.

She resisted as I tried to force her legs apart, but Mother Nature in her wisdom didn’t make those muscles very strong, and once I applied some force she had to open her thighs. She gave one last mewl of protest and looked down at me with a plea on her face, as if I were going to do something horrible to her. I dipped my head and looked at that pussy, that part of her she protected so fiercely. I wanted to see if it were made of gold or set with rubies and rare and expensive gems.

“Connor…Please! Oh God!”

I kissed her there and she gasped and held absolutely still, as if maybe I’d go away. But I wasn’t going anywhere. I licked her once, tasting her, feeling her with my tongue, setting my softness against hers.

“Oh God! Don’t!” she whispered, but I knew I had to.

She was wet and warm and soft, and her little clit was peaking out from under its hood wondering what to make of me as I licked her. I rimmed her, I stuck my tongue in her, I licked from her asshole to the top of her slit in long, slow and gentle licks. I held her ass in my hands like a split melon as I ate out the sweet flesh between and Amy started shaking, jerking and lurching against me. It was like she was fighting with her body, trying to make it behave, but her body wanted more of what I was doing and wouldn’t listen, and Amy sank back on the bed, coloring with shame, groaning in submission.

I spoke directly to her body. I made love to her pussy, sucked her soft flesh into my mouth and licked her, spread her apart with my thumbs so that I could get to more of her and licked and kissed every centimeter of her sweet sex, finally inserting a finger into her and finger fucking her while I sucked her clit between my lips and out. By the time I finished, Amy was like a puddle of liquid on the bed and close to tears.

“Connor…” she gasped, “Untie me. Fuck me. Please.”

I pushed her legs open and got up on my knees between them.

“You’re fine like you are.” I said. “But yeah, I’ll fuck you. I’ll fuck you like no one’s ever fucked you, Amy, and like no one’s ever going to fuck you again.”

I was achingly hard and dripping with juice. I fit the big broad head of my cock against her spit-sodden pussy and I pushed into her, her soft flesh giving way before me, pushing it aside as I bore a passage into her. I had to stop along the way to let her get used to me. No one had been here in a long time, and she was wonderfully tight. My cock was anxious to get on with it and it was all I could do to restrain myself from just fucking her like the animal I felt like.

“That’s it, Amy.” I said to her. “You’ve got it all now. All the way up to my balls. Now you get fucked. Now you get fucked the way you’ve always wanted, hard and deep, baby. And when I’m done I’m going to fuck you again, and maybe again after that.”

I flexed my cock and she groaned. I got on my knees and my hands over her, and I began to fuck her, pulling out of her and pushing back in, watching her face.

She was going to love this before I was through. She was going to love it and she was going to tell me she did, or I was just never going to stop.

 

[soliloquy]

Amy hadn't lost complete control yet. Had she lost all control, she would have come by now. But she had lost a significant enough amount that her voice seemed to ring out against her permission. She was screaming: half begging her to fuck her harder, half cursing him.

In her brain, she was trying to kick at him, but the spasms of the rest of her body didn't allow her to have much sense of aim, and to an unknowing onlooker she would have just looked like a woman writhing in ecstacy, or in the quest for it.

Her hips worked on instinct alone, dancing the dance all men knew from conception. His cock filled her, stretched her, and hit all the right places. He wasn't fucking her hard enough or fast enough, and Amy needed so much more than he was giving her. The bastard knew it, too.

"Asshole!" she cried, as she gyrated her hips wildly, trying to rub her painfully swollen clit against him anywhere she could. "Motherfucking sonofabitch asshole!" She didn't even know she had the capability of such vile language, but it was taking place of all the things her body was telling her to say.

Her arms kept pulling against the cuffs out of pure instinct to grab him and pull him deeper inside her. She whimpered out of sheer frustration as his cock glided exquisitely inside her incredibly slick passage. His hands still dug into her ass cheeks as he continued his cruel assault.

Without any warning at all Amy's body seemed to split in two. Her feet found hold on the bed and her hips jerked upward, meeting his body with a loud smack. Her body was suspended as she visibly shook and spasmed with glorious abandon. She was crying out words that she couldn't comprehend; not that she was trying.

And then her body fell to the bed and she bounced. Her muscles contracted again and she heard Connor groan. She let out a throaty mewl as her body relaxed and her orgasm subsided.

The whole time, her eyes had been closed. She opened them and saw Connor above her. He looked like lust personified, like an erotic dream. But this was reality. His face was taut with restraint as he kindly waited for her to come down. Once she had, he was sliding slowly in and out of her again.

Gathering her senses, Amy merely shook her head as if to say that she had had enough.

"No, Amy," he rasped, "it's not enough." He thrust hard and deep again, and she gasped at new arousal. "No, I'm not done with you yet, and I'm not sure when I will be done."

And then the talking was over. The fucking resumed. Her struggles ceased.

She could have rationalized it, telling herself that there was no use resisting him; that her struggles only made it harder on her; that he had won. Unfortunately for Amy, the truth was that she wanted this passion, and she wanted to be an active participant in it.

Her mind had shut off. There was only action. Her words sounded to her as if they came from someone else, but they were her own. "Don't stop, Connor. Don't ever stop."

This battle had been won, and Amy was pillaged and plundered. The only consolation she had was that the war was far from over. She could fight better when his dick wasn't pummelling a peace treaty out of her cunt.

But for now, best to enjoy him reaping the spoils.

She began to match his rhythm, and let her cries of arousal go freely. She held back nothing. She clamped her pussy down around his cock and he nearly roared in pleasure. Her clit began to throb again, and this was just the beginning of round two.

"Christ, Connor...feels...so...god...damned.....good."

 

[dr_mabeuse]

”Christ, Connor...feels...so...god...damned.....good."

Doesn’t it? I wanted to ask her, DOESN’T IT?!

But I didn’t. I was too busy concentrating on not feeling how good she felt around me, how she was drawing at me, pulling at me; how Amy the Ice Queen was fucking me. Her face was red and flushed from her orgasm, her hair stuck to the perspiration on her face. I cleared her hair out of the way because I wanted to see that face; I wanted to see everything she felt.

I let go of her ass and sat back on my heels for a moment, trying to catch my breath and let the urge to come subside. It was no good. I was too fucking close. I had to pull my cock out of her and pinch down on myself stop the spasms that threatened to drown her in semen. As it was a thick gob oozed out anyhow and fell on her heaving stomach before I was able to stem the tide and gain control.

There was a moment when I looked at her and she looked at me and I realized that we were still locked in this sexual war. The bitch wasn’t going to be won in a single battle, maybe not won at all.

It struck me then that this had been a stupid idea, stupid from the start. You can’t make someone love you by fucking them, especially when you kidnap them and fuck them. It all was suddenly so clear to me.

But my cock didn’t care, and so neither did I. Fuck her for a whore then.

I pushed her knees back against her tits, rolling her pussy up to me, and I slid back into her, making her grunt with surprise. I grabbed her ankles and held them like the handles of a wheelbarrow and began to savagely sling my cock into her. Standing on my knees like this I could really swing my hips and I fucked her brutally, making her body shake, making her big tits swim on her chest, making the bed slam into the wall with a rhythmic thud. She whined with heat and frustration, unable to match my pace as I sought to make up the ground I had lost in pulling out of her.

“You’re a slut, aren’t you, Amy?” I gasped at her. “You love being fucked like this, love my prick inside you, don’t you?”

“Oh God! Just do it! Do it, you bastard!” she snarled.

I slowed for a second to catch my breath.

“What do you call a girl who fucks with her body and not her heart?” I asked her. “Where I come from they call her a whore. A slut!”

My words seemed to hit her like a whip. She closed her eyes and bit her lip in denial. She started to tremble. I pushed her legs back up so I could drive straight down into her, hooked her calves over my shoulders and grabbed her ass, pulling her up to meet my strokes, making her grunt as I sank so deep into her.

“You hot bitch! You were made for this!” I spit down at her as I stared to fuck her again, “You hot piece of ass! Take my fucking cock! Take it, Amy! I’m gonna come! Get ready for it!”

Her hands were pulling at the chain. She raised her head. The way her hips were tilted up she could see my big stalk hammering into her, smashing down against her clit with every plunge. I held her knees back, trying to roll her into a ball as I leaned down and sucked a nipple into my mouth and began to lash it with my tongue.

“Come for me, baby!” I said around her tit, “Come for me Amy! I’m gonna make it! I’m, gonna come! Close, baby! Close!”

She must have felt me spasm inside her, I don’t know. I was fucking her like a trip hammer, slamming into her upturned cunt and driving her ass into the sagging mattress with every heavy thrust. The fire began to race up my spine, bringing a heavy load of come with it, coming up like an elevator full of dynamite.

I dug my toes into the mattress and launched myself into her, threw my head back and howled.

“Oh Christ, Amy! Fuck! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

My cock lurched inside her and began to spit hot come, jetting it deep, shot after ball-draining shot. There’s no way she couldn’t feel it. It came out of me like shots from a gun, hosing her down, splattering inside her, all that hot, thick come.

She pushed up against me, wiggling her ass with excitement, milking me, her mouth wide open but no sound coming out. I shot it inside her but I wanted her to see it too, so I pulled out of her and laid my cock against her mound, ejaculating the rest of it right onto her quivering stomach, making sure she saw it, making sure she saw what she did to me.

Finally it stopped, my throbbing cock spitting out the last drops of my release, my balls resting against her spasming pussy. Amy turned her face to the side, trying to hide in the white terrycloth that still covered her arms.

I waited till I could move again, and then I got up off the bed, staggered to the bathroom and leaned against the doorframe, echoes of my orgasm still throbbing through my body.

I splashed some cold water in my face, still trying to catch my breath and come down. Amy’s chest was heaving, I could see her pulse beating wildly in her throat as she tried to regain her composure.

I walked over and looked down at her, looking for some sign of change.

 

[soliloquy]

Amy looked into Connors eyes, her expression vague.

"Why?" she whispered, her voice tinged with sadness.

Connor sighed, "we're going to do this again, Amy?" He crawled in next to her and ran his fingers over her hip. She didn't refuse him in any way.

"No," she said in a small voice, "why doesn't what I want matter, Connor?" She half expected him to growl at her and call her names. But he didn't.

His hands wandered over her stomach now, stirring up the arousal that she had just managed to push down. She sighed. "Maybe because it never mattered to you what I wanted, Amy."

She stared at him as his hand wandered to the top of her thigh, lightly stroking. "But that's not true. It did matter what you wanted. We just wanted different things."

He kissed along her shoulder. She wished he would stop. She needed to think, needed to tell him all the things he wasn't understanding about her. But how could she when he set her body on fire and made her beg him to douse it?

"I don't think so."

Her voice trembled as she tried to concentrate on their conversation. Her nipples had tightened, and he had noticed. His mouth was achingly close. "You think I took joy in refusing you, don't you?" His answer was to suck her nipple into his mouth. She moaned softly. "Well, that isn't true. Not completely, Connor. I just needed to be sure, and my timetable was different than yours. Your intensity scared me, and I ran. I'm sorry for that."

He chewed lightly at her nipple and she wasn't sure if he was even listening to her. Regardless, she kept talking. "You say that I'm a nation of one with no foreign policy, and that hurt deeply. Not because it's not true, but because you dont' understand why I've become that way." His fingers were massaging her mound and her hips bucked up off of the bed.

"Connor, could you please stop touching me so I can talk for a bit? I really need to talk to you. You obviously have me at your mercy, and I'm not going anywhere," she tugged on the cuffs for emphasis, "so please let me say this." He stopped rubbing her mound, but continued licking and sucking at her nipple. It was something, she thought.

"The fact is, Connor, I've only been with five men, and only one and a half of them willingly."

He lifted his head. "A half?"

"Well, I'm not generally a dishonest person except to myself. And to say that part of me hasn't been willing to make love to you in the last fourteen hours would be lying to you." He half smiled and returned to her nipples, bathing them in his tongue's warmth.

"And the one that I did have sex with willingly left me shortly thereafter. You don't forget that kind of thing." The end of her sentence was a low husky moan as sensation shot from his tongue to her nipple to her thighs and everywhere in between. "So, I was looking for someone who wanted me, not just for sex, but for me. Someone that I could be fairly sure would be with me after we...fucked."

Something about the way he was slowly arousing her basest desires told her that he was listening to every word. So, she went on. "After a good handful of guys had acted upset at not getting anywhere in a short amount of time, I got pissed. Men played their games with me, and were sore losers. So, yeah, I played back."

This must have made him upset because he sucked her nipple hard into his mouth and began rubbing against her cunt again. Her breathing became ragged as she nearly shouted to reach him. "But then you came along, Connor. You. You were patient for a while, and you were so kind. And I liked you so much. But then you couldn't wait. There was something terrifying about the way you needed me, the way I needed you. I didn't know what to do with that. So I ran. I was cruel to you, and I ran. But I never forgot you. You've always been in the back of my mind as this perfect lover, the one I let get away."

His hand stilled as he waited for her to go on. "You make me compromise everything I've tried to become as a woman. I don't want to be a slut, a whore," she sobbed, a tear escaping her. "My body reacts positively to those words, but it wounds my heart, Connor. Don't you see? My body is only part of who I am. And you've made me reconsider all the rest of it by forcing me to respond despite my mind. Just because I want you to satiate all my needs doesn't mean that I don't have the right to say no when my mind tells me that I shouldn't do this."

There was silence but for her choked sobs. She wanted to cup his face in her hands and make him look into her soul and see where she was coming from. Instead, she lifted her hips, encouraging his touch. "All I know right now, hon," she let the term of endearment slip by unnoticed, "is that my body wants to make love. To you. And apparently, that's all that matters right now."

His lips were so close to her own, and she lifted her head to try to close the gap. She was tired of fighting, and she was tired of lying to herself. She was insatiable. For him. For Connor.

Tears spilled over her cheeks as she begged him silently to kiss her.

 

[dr_mabeuse]

I heard what she was saying, and it was exactly what I'd been looking for: it was Amy coming out to me, telling me what was in her mind and in her heart, and it was what I'd wanted all along, just to know her, to know that I was more than a game to her.

But in some ways it was more than I'd expected. It hardly sounded like the Amy I knew. She had never told me that she wanted to wait. She had been the one who would urge me on. She was the one who would take my hand and press it between her legs as we made out in front of the TV, spreading her thighs so I could feel her puffy sex through the tight denim of her jeans, warm and soft. even moist with desire. She was the one who would start moan with that little sob in her voice, as if she would die if I didn’t take her all the way, clawing at my chest and at my cock through my pants, begging me.

And then when I would take her up on what she offered, when I would unzip my pants or try to unzip hers, she would suddenly stop and squirm away; sit up, angry and upset. Now I'd gone too far! What did I take her for? She was disappointed in me; thought I’d be different, more mature, but I was just like all the rest, treating her like nothing but a sex object with no feelings of her own. That was the Amy I knew. Could she really have changed so completely?

I didn’t know, and at the moment I didn’t really care, because while we were having this discussion, our bodies had been talking about something else, and I was aware of her body twisting and straining with that familiar feeling of urgency. But this time there were no jeans to take off, no zippers in the way. Amy's naked flash lay beneath my fingers, warm and alive, and her heat and her cloying wetness told me that she wasn't lying: she wanted me.

I kissed her, avoiding the searching hunger of her mouth, just licking her lips, but the way they trembled as I licked her was too much for me, and I closed with her, pressing my lips to hers. Her tongue pushed its way into my mouth with a hungry little moan and she began to fuck me with it, showing me what she wanted my cock to do to her pussy. She whimpered in submission, begging me, pleading with me, and I couldn't resist.

"Oh God, Connor! Yes! Oh God, yes!" she said as I slid into her, and this time she showed no reluctance, no reservation. She threw one leg over mine and pulled me tight while she planted the other foot on the mattress for leverage and she began to fuck me as I'd never been fucked, wild and uninhibited, with the kind of mindless sensuality I'd always knew she had.

I didn’t want her to make it good for me. I wanted her to use me for her own selfish pleasure, just the way she'd always accused me of using her. I wanted to see her need, her own hunger. I wanted her to fuck me with all the greedy passion had, and that’s just what she did. She raised her hips and slid up my cock, the muscles in her stomach tensing as she took me inside, and she held me there as she ground herself harshly against me, mashing her pussy against my pubic bone, gasping, kissing me, licking at me.

She found her rhythm, pulling at me with her leg while she lifted herself up onto my prick, but she could not do it hard enough. I continued to lie against her, my hands on her bound wrists, studying that angelic face as it slowly became a mask of anguish and frustration.

“Fuck me, Connor, please,”: she whispered, “I need to feel you against me. Do you want me to beg? Then I’m begging you Connor, I’m begging you now. Fuck me, fuck me!”

I couldn’t refuse her like this. I put my hands on the mattress and lifted myself up, got my weight on my knees and I slammed my prick into her, making her gasp. I did it again and Amy opened her eyes and looked at me with such a look of wild lust that I thought I’d lose it right there.

“Yes, baby! Give it to me! Hard, Connor! Fuck me hard! Oh God, I love it!”

Hard, I gave it to her hard, holding her wrists against the bed and punishing her with my cock, trying to hurt her, wanting to make her feel it. I bit my lip, trying to keep down the urge to ejaculate into her heaving body right now, and I fed my hard meat into her slick and hungry cunt.

“I don’t know if you meant it,” I said to her as I gasped for breath, “I don’t even want to think about it now. All I know is you make me crazy, Amy, you’ve always made me crazy, and I can’t get enough of you!”

“Yes, baby! Yes…”

“I don’t want you to be a whore. I don’t want you to be a slut. I just want you to be mine, Amy. That’s all I want. I just want you to be mine!”

 

[soliloquy]

“I don’t want you to be a whore. I don’t want you to be a slut. I just want you to be mine, Amy. That’s all I want. I just want you to be mine!”

The words rang in Amy's head, and her pussy clamped down on his cock like a vice, her heart seeming to clamp down analagous to her pussy. They were words she had never heard, always wanted to hear, and her body and heart froze in time as she let the words sink in.

Connor froze, too, looking down at her. "What's wrong, Amy?"

What's wrong? Nothing? Everything? She was finally hearing the words she had always wanted to hear from him, but the circumstances weren't exactly...well, this was no Doris Day, Rock Hudson romance. Her hands were cuffed to the bed because he feared she would run. She didn't even know where she was, and hadn't come here of her own free will, much less expecting to make major romantic overatures.

Her breath heaved in her breasts, and her body relaxed. "Nothing, Connor. Nothing's wrong." She wasn't lying, but she wasn't telling the truth, either. She relaxed and pulled away from him, feeling his cock almost exiting her, and then she pushed up, sheathing his cock to the hilt and squeezing him deep inside. She repeated, and he followed.

She looked Connor squarely in the eye with a look that replaced all the "fuck me's" that she ever could have uttered. His mouth descended and his tongue lashed out at her in her mouth. She couldn't quite breathe, but she didn't care. Her high was coming, and she needed; she needed this like a junkie needed dope. Beads of sweat formed on the swells of her breasts as they continued to fuck so primally that she expected to see Tarzan above her. But it was Connor. Strong, sexy Connor. His hips collided into her body, shoving her into the mattress, forcing the cuffs to dig into her wrists. She screamed into his mouth, and he sucked her tongue into it.

They were writhing against each other now, struggling to make each other come, and to draw it all out all at the same time. His body felt so solid against hers, so strong, so safe. Ironic, huh?

He pressed his forehead against hers as if to try to concentrate, and she felt his breath against her face. He was still fucking her as if possessed, and she him. "Talk to me, Amy." His demand was surprisingly gentle.

She found it difficult to get the words from her brain to her mouth. "I'm yours right now, Connor. Yours. Just don't stop fucking me." Her hips rose with every other word, and with every stroke of his cock inside her, she seemed to get wetter and wetter. Her body strained upwards, and she gyrated her hips, trying to make contact between his skin and her clit.

"Fuck, Connor. Let my wrists go. Let me fuck you right."

All she could think of now was getting him on his back and fucking him until they both exploded into a million pieces.