I wanted a fuck, I got fucked. Much more than I imagined.
Sitting on the edge of the armchair, I observe you in awe. Captivated by the subtle reactions your body is displaying while you experience a few last twitches.
The room is now quiet, with the only notable noise being your breathing that is gradually reducing its pace. Every breath gets deeper yet less intense, in stark contrast to your panting just a few minutes ago.
I convince myself that the intense heartbeat I feel is yours, well aware that I couldn’t experience it from where I am sitting.
Your mouth slowly closes and you start breathing through your nose again. This is followed by a noticeable relaxation of your body musculature. You no longer attempt to control your posture and let yourself sink onto the pillows piled under your abdomen. Noticing my own position on the tip of the armchair, I slide backwards to lean against the back of the armrest. I’m glad you can’t see and didn’t notice my lack of self-control.
I continue to watch as you lie there in silence. I know this state of resignation won’t last. Your consciousness and rationality will soon kick in.
A smile creeps onto my face as short moments later your first realisation materialises. Your arm tugs onto the rope around your right wrists, as if you attempted to reach down. The muscle in your bottom tense up and I notice semen running down your inner thigh.
Reminded by the physical discomfort of the position you are in, you start pulling on the ropes tied around your wrists and ankles. I savor your struggle.
With a confirmation of the quality of my rope work, you move to rebalance your body. You stay still for a few more minutes, deepening into your own thoughts. I know you are processing what just happened. You confirm my thoughts by mumbling a barely audible
‘F…fuck’ just seconds later.
I can only imagine the dilemma that must torment your mind right now. How could you have let this happen, when the only thing needed to make it stop was a single word?
I continue to observe you silently, sitting barely a meter away from you. You must process this on your own first. I will be there for you when you need
***********************************
The rope cuts into my wrists.
I only vaguely remember how he tied it.
It was only a few minutes ago, but I see it in my mind's eye like a memory from the distant past.
How could it come to this?
How could I let it happen?
Why didn't I just say no?
No, from the beginning.
Only now do I realize that I don't even know his name.
Eliana's wedding was very beautiful, and the party afterwards was exuberant.
I didn't miss the way he looked at me from the other side of the big table.
Not secretly, not smiling. Appraising and knowing.
He looked directly at me as if to say
“I see you, and I know what you want.”
Did I want something? Yes, to go home. But I couldn't do that without being rude to Eliana, so I went dancing to pass the time.
The music was loud but good, and the dance floor was full. Suddenly, I felt him behind me.
It could have been any other man from the party, but I knew it was him.
Now I felt it again, as if I were immersed in a memory.
************************************
A gentle touch on my shoulders and fingers slowly stroking down my bare upper arms.
I want to turn around, but then I feel all his hands around my elbows.
My arms are gently pulled back, and his hands move down to my wrists.
Now we're both moving slowly, swaying to the sounds of a song I've never heard before.
Anyone looking at us from the outside must assume that we are a couple, but today is the first time we've met.
Or not?
His warm palms close around my wrists and squeeze.
It doesn't hurt, but it's not one of the usual dance moves I'd expect.
My body tenses a little and then relaxes again as I hear him whisper in my ear.
“Does that feel good?”
Yes. It feels good. I'm a little surprised that I can even hear his whisper through the loud music, but the pressure around my wrists and his broad body behind me feel really good. Too good to be distracted by little things.
“You're beautiful,” he whispers again, and then he lowers his face to my shoulder, and I feel a distinct warm kiss.
What is he doing? He doesn't even know me!!!
I want to free myself from his grip and tell him off, but he asks.
“Does that feel good?” and my brain stops for a moment.
Yes, it does. It feels very good.
“Good.” I hear him whisper, and at the same time, I'm sure I didn't say anything out loud.
So why does he answer me?
We dance for a while, and when he lets go of one of my wrists, I have a distinct feeling of loss.
I turn around to the rhythm of the music and end up in his arms.
He pulls me close to him, and his mouth says right next to my ear:
“I'd like to blindfold you now and take you upstairs, but I can't.”
What a strange turn-on, I think as he pulls me even tighter against his body.
I don't wait to find out if it feels good because it does.
Upwards? How so?
The wedding is being held at a friend of Eliana's husband's house, but there was never any mention of accommodation.
Where does he want to take me? And why am I even thinking about it?
The proposal is completely crazy, and obviously so is my dance partner!
“You want it a lot more than to be bored here for the rest of the evening,” he says into my ear again, his lips tickling my skin.
"When the song ends, you'll close your eyes, and I'll lead you upstairs by the hand. Some of the guests will see it and wonder if I'm taking you upstairs to fuck you. They'll think you're my girlfriend and envy us.
"Is he insane???
I can't do that! Some of the guests are my work colleagues!
They know very well that I don't have a boyfriend!
Why am I even thinking like this?
I don't know the man, and I'm definitely not going anywhere with him.
The song ends, and I close my eyes.
My heart is pounding as I follow him across the dance floor with my eyes closed.
I briefly want to look down at the floor through my eyelashes to avoid tripping, but that would spoil the fun and ruin the excitement.
I feel eyes on me as we slowly cross the hall.
I'm sure they're all staring at me, really wondering if he's going upstairs with me to fuck me.
I feel like I'm naked, and suddenly I wonder what it would be like to actually be led down the hall naked.
Horrible!
Cold shivers of terror run down my spine.
That would be absolutely horrible.
My body is extremely tense, but it's not uncomfortable.
My nipples are hard and certainly clearly visible through my thin dress.
The situation is embarrassing on the one hand and exciting and thrilling on the other.
On the way up the stairs, I squint through my eyelashes.
Stumbling and falling would be too embarrassing in front of the auditorium, which is probably still watching me.
A door opens, and he leads me into a room.
As he walks around me to close the door, I notice his scent again.
I try to identify it, but the individual scents are far too exotic to name.
He smells of sun, fire, earth, and as I suck the air deep into my lungs, there is something else.
Strong and subtle at the same time, yet it seems to be the carrier of the other fragrances. Its essence envelops me and fogs my senses.
Pheromones?
Or perhaps a chemical substance that is supposed to anesthetize me?
But if it is such a substance, it would also have to affect him, and it doesn't look like it.
He touches my shoulder and seems to pause for a moment as if he's thinking.
His calmness is arousing.
He seems to know that I won't change my mind and won't go away.
He reaches for something, and I feel silk on my skin as he blindfolds me.
Strange.
Even though my eyes are closed the whole time, I can tell that the room is dark. I instinctively waited for the light to be switched on, but it didn't happen.
Why would you blindfold someone in a lightless room?
Maybe it's part of his game, I think as I feel his hand slowly brush against my waist from behind while the other strokes down my arm.
My left hand is lifted, and he slowly kisses the back of my hand. A pleasant shiver travels over my already aroused body.
“You smell better than the whores he usually brings,” he whispers to me, and I'm shocked by this rough choice of words because it doesn't match his elegant appearance and his previous behavior.
How much men change when their instincts take over.
The inner animal doesn't seem to care about convenience.
His right hand reaches for my breast and rubs over my nipple through the fabric of the dress while his left grips me and wraps around the front of my neck.
Slowly and with little pressure, but I can feel the power behind it.
He could probably just squeeze now and strangle me effortlessly.
“Mhmm, you smell better,” he murmurs and pulls me tightly against him.
His fingers find my nipple and squeeze slowly.
A surge of pleasure builds up inside me and wants to escape my lips with a gasp, but my throat is only open enough for me to get enough air to breathe.
I grab his arm with both hands to loosen his grip as his other hand continues to squeeze, and the sweet pain in my nipple shoots down to my stomach.
It excites me so much to be so completely in his hands, but it also makes me dizzy, and I don't want that.
I want to fully enjoy every sensation here.
Be it pain or ecstasy.
The gasping for air, which is slowly but surely being cut off, distracts me from my lust, but he doesn't react to my gentle hint, so I decide to be more explicit before I lose consciousness.
His arm is as hard as a tree trunk, and although my fingernails are soon deep in his flesh, the grip doesn't let up.
Panic threatens to take me over, and I begin to fight back in earnest, kicking and slashing his arm with my long nails.
"I love it when they fight. Yes, my beautiful, I want a lot more of that today."
The pressure eases a little, and I try to get the air into my lungs as calmly as possible. This brings more of his scent into my nose, mixed with the coppery smell of his blood smearing his arm.
I open my mouth to tell him that he should be a little gentler with me if we're going to have fun here when he presses his bleeding arm over my mouth, and I feel his blood on my tongue.
"Yes, drink from me, little doll. I'll drink from you today, too."
I rebel and struggle, but all I hear behind me is a throaty laugh.
“I can smell how wet you are for me. Lick your fill of my blood. Before the night is over, you will let me do everything to you and thank me for every pain I give you. You are mine now. "
I hear the words and don't believe the enormity of what he's fantasizing about, but my tongue licks over his arm like I'm licking the remnants of a delicious sauce off my plate.
What's going on here?!
Am I on drugs?!
My mouth leaves his arm as my nipple is squeezed hard, and I cry out in pain and surprise.
"Yes, good girl. I want to hear you scream a lot more today," he says and lets go of my breast.
He gives me a push, and I land on my stomach on the bed.
Right behind me, his body lands on top of me and covers me completely.
His weight squeezes the air out of my lungs again.
He didn't look that heavy down at the table.
He rolls to the side, but holds me with his left hand pressed into the soft pillows of the bed.
His right hand pulls up my dress, and as I try to resist further, a hard slap lands on my ass.
It stings, but despite the pain, my body also feels a strange sensation of rising pleasure.
"It makes you wet, and you hate it. I can smell both. Your wet pussy and your hate." Now I hate it even more.
My dress is over my ass, and my thong is pushed aside as he touches my wet pussy from behind.
His finger pushes deep inside me, and shortly afterwards I hear him sucking on it noisily.
“Delicious,” he growls behind me.
I try to squeeze my legs together, but he pulls at my knee and then puts his between mine so that I can't close my legs again.
"Nice wet little cunt. Let me see what we've got here today," he says, and his fingers push deep inside me.
I moan into the pillow because his hand is big, and he fingers me deep and hard. His elbow presses into my back as he fucks me with his fingers and stretches me painfully, and his third finger is rammed deep inside me.
“So wet the little cunt, so wet,” he murmurs and moves his fingers in and out rhythmically.
My clit is rubbed again and again, and it feels better and better.
He presses his finger on it, and I can't suppress a long moan into the pillow.
The pleasure is overwhelming. I don't know how many fingers are inside me now as he moves his hand quickly and fucks me with it.
“Open your legs for me, little horny whore,” he says, and I try to lift my ass a little to let him even deeper inside me.
With each of his thrusts, I moan with pleasure and the feeling of being stretched and opened.
The orgasm comes in a huge wave and is about to crash over me like a waterfall reaching the end of a gorge.
“Yes, squirt all over me, little whore, as wet for me as you all are.”
I feel something incredible happening in my abdomen, and only the orgasm seconds away distracts me from the new sensation.
Then his hand disappears from my vagina, and the orgasm is replaced by a sharp pain caused by the hard slap that lands on my wet pussy.
“I didn't say you could cum.” He laughs harshly behind me and yanks my head up by the hair.
I scream, and his hand smears a liquid all over my face and into my mouth.
Then he plunges it into my vagina again and repeats the process.
"So much juice for me, whore. Remember that later when you think you didn't want it."
I've heard that the female orgasm can take this form, but I've never experienced it myself or known anyone who has.
I feel a wet surface under my stomach, and his fingers in my mouth taste like me. My pussy continues to secrete something and tries to catch the orgasm that is probably not going to happen now.
He slaps my pussy again, and the pain travels through my whole body again.
Then my hips are jerked upwards, and I try to raise myself up on my elbows.
All the pain is forgotten when I feel his hot, hard cock at my opening.
I just want him to be inside me and fuck me so that the orgasm can return.
I tense my muscles and await the thrust.
"Greedy little cunt. That's how I like it," he says and fulfills my wish.
The first thrust is hard and strong. It reaches the back wall of my vagina effortlessly and presses against it wonderfully.
Simply perfect.
I still feel slightly drunk even though I haven't consumed any alcohol, but now the pleasure takes over, and I moan.
His scent is now much stronger than before.
The subtle, seductive note that ran through the scents emanating from him earlier, like a guiding thread in the background, is now stronger, more dominant, clearly perceptible and present everywhere.
Like smoke from a campfire that suddenly blows in your face when the wind shifts, and you simply have to step back because it is beautiful but too intense and temporarily fogs you up.
But nothing is temporary here.
My senses are so overwhelmed by the scent that I can't think clearly.
The darkness in the room doesn't make it any easier to concentrate on anything other than his cock inside me, driving me crazy, and the scent enveloping me.
My blindfold slipped off my head when he yanked me backwards by my hair, but I can't see much in the darkness here.
My pussy burns deliciously as he takes it hard, and his cock still seems to be growing inside me.
I turn my head to the side to breathe better, and my eyes, already used to the darkness, catch a glimmer.
Apparently the room has a large mirror on the wall.
The cock pumps powerfully into me, and I open myself up completely to have more of it inside.
A hard slap lands on my ass, and I scream out.
I try to crawl forward, but he holds me in an iron grip and speeds up even more. I'm sure to get bruises from the hands gripping my waist.
“Come now,” he commands, and my mind reports in the fog surrounding him that I am not a machine and will definitely not come on command while my pussy simultaneously explodes in a gigantic orgasm.
“Yes, yes!” he moans behind me and holds my pussy open with both thumbs, as it desperately tries to close around his cock over and over again while my body twitches and I can hardly breathe.
Then I scream because the energy of the orgasm wants to tear my body apart and his thumbs even more.
“That little cunt you brought me is too tight,” he says and continues to pump into me like he's out of his mind.
I come and come and can no longer control my body.
His sentence sounds strange, as if he wasn't even talking to me, but I'm unable to analyze or even understand it when he suddenly pulls me around and just kneels over my face.
“Open!” he orders, and then he rams his huge cock deep into my mouth.
I can't even start sucking on it when I'm already breathless as the tip reaches my throat and spits out hot cum.
My mouth fills and fills, and I'm going to drown if I can't swallow and breathe soon.
I can barely even taste it because it's so deep in my throat.
His cock pumps more loads but slows down a little so that I can hastily swallow once and gasp for air.
The moaning above me doesn't stop as I finally close my mouth around his cock and suck on it.
I look in the mirror out of the corner of my eye.
The only thing I can see are two dark red, glowing dots where I think his eyes are. I'd wager that his cum contains the same drug that's been rendering me will-less all this time.
The idea that I'm being fucked by a demon seems suddenly very funny.
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