BlackmailedbytheSadist (2 page)

“Please...go lower. I need your relief.” She watched him savor her helplessness, as she struggled a bit in her bindings.

Like a fly caught in a predator's web, he's thinking. Yes, Sandy, that's exactly what you are.

Sandra imagined the darkest corners of his mind, much blacker than anything the dungeon could hold.

She never expected him to roll out his tongue and moisten his lips before diving for her crotch. The clothespins bobbed along her purple tinged breasts as she came undone with his touch.

His tongue started at her right knee, grinding up along her wedding cake white thigh, all the way to the fatty upper part that lay just below her sex. He inhaled deeply, inwardly drooling over her scent.

Jesus! This isn't supposed to be sensual. If he doesn't take me now, I'm going to -

His teeth sank into her thigh – hard. She yelped with surprise as he bit into her, playfully like a kitten at first, but gradually increasing his pressure until it became menacing.

Just when she thought he was going insane, ready to bite deeper into her supple meat, he turned away and focused his attention on the other thigh. Again, she was dashed into an underworld of his puppetry, forgetting the deep imprints of her teeth on her aching thigh as he worshiped its sister.

He never moved all the way to her folds, but each lap of his slick tongue against her leg ravaged her as much as if he were buried face deep in her. Sandra's eyes rolled around and around, and lust melded into memories. She saw herself spinning out of control on the night of the accident, and recalled how she thought about orgasm in the immeasurably short second before the blackout.

“Please, sir. Just a little more. I think I could cum if you move just a little higher,” Sandra whispered.

“Why would I want to do a thing like that?” He said, lifting his mouth off her leg. “I'm not here to reward you for good behavior. Quite the contrary. You, little missy, have been extremely bad. The only cumming you'll do is on my command...”

He used it as an opportunity to rise to his feet. Her clit felt like it would blaze until it burned away to nothing as she waited for his return, anxiously pressing her thighs together. She felt herself dripping, pooling her sweetness across the places where his mouth had teased and attacked her with such passion.

Behind his mask, Lucien's eyes narrow. He brought a cigarette out of his pocket and smoked it with his back turned, occasionally blowing the spicy vapor up into the air, where it drifted back toward her nostrils.

When her lust had died down a single notch, the unwelcome thoughts were returning. She sensed that his passion was actually controlled with a zen lord's discipline, and released in quick, concentrated bursts when it suited him for manipulation.

What does he really want? I don't know what's going to happen, or where this is going. What if he
wants to do more than just play around?

Later, she regretted her inability to quash her own fires with similar iron control. It might have saved her from his more advanced tricks.

When his cigarette was down to a nub, he pressed his face toward hers, spilling his dark eyes into her doe wide pupils. He blew a long ream of smoke directly onto her until she pressed her eyes shut.

“Tell me about the accident. I'd like to hear how a pretty little thing like you finds herself here...”
So, that's it. He wants a confession.

“I never meant for any of it to happen. It was just so dark...I left a party where they had this sweet snow, laced with something wonderful. I don't even know. It caused me to flip out on the road, right into the car next to me. Before I knew it, I woke up in the hospital...” If his intent was to suppress her lust, it was working.

He stared at her, with a strangeness in his eyes she didn't recognize. Was he...turned on?

“And then came your fuck up. A very bad one, if coming to me for money is any indication. Tell me, why did your victim decide to sue?”

The rage she had squelched for so long flared through her body. Her lips peeled back like an angry dog, spitting out the answer he wanted to hear. “Because I crippled the sonofabitch. After what he did to me...after what he did, I wish I'd killed him!”

“Yes, yes. It's hard to find a role in film after that media frenzy. The tabloids and their jackals can be so cruel. Even I find it hard to compete with that,” he said, turning away from her and walking back toward his cabinet.

Sandra's nostrils flared. She tried not to let him see the tears in her eyes. Her chest beat harshly, but her body was changing in a way she didn't expect. Her lust had returned, a dozen times stronger than before, making new rivulets of her moisture dribble down the curtains of her legs onto the cool floor below.

She felt like laughing, and spinning on her tired arms. In a passing vision, she saw her naked and desperate body, twisting as she begged for her captor's satisfaction, playing perfectly into his womanly marionette schemes.

“Your ass is a great half moon, white as pale ale. Nothing wrong with that. My preferences are different: I prefer that nice harvest tone instead.” He had stealthily returned to her side while she was lost in thought. His words emanated from behind her, followed by the loudest slap she had ever heard.

The noise rang in her ears long before the sharp pain on her ass cheeks exploded into the desolate air.

Lucien didn't give her any time to recover. Not now.

He smashed the broad faced cane over her ass again and again, mashing it into her plump rear. She made a sound somewhere between a passionate cry and a sob.

“That's it, Sandra. Cum for me. Cum when this stick finds your ass again.” His hypnotic order tore through her. The last thing she wanted to do was surrender further satisfaction and control to the degrading monster behind her, but his words were more powerful than his tools.

She had never orgasmed without masculine hands caressing her, licking her, or gratifying her void with a horny cock. Not until the cane connected with her ass.

“Oh, God...Lucien,” she whimpered, feeling her clit throb from side to side as the muscles around her sex contracted. With nothing for it to wrap around, she screamed, and her legs curled inward.

Her shrill yips bounced around the walls of his enormous basement, papering the dungeon with ghostly passion. Behind her, Lucien's cock twitched, and he momentarily thought about planting himself inside her spasming ass while she rocked against the open air.

Blood didn't know where to go in her body. All of it fought to circulate into her gushing folds, and the migration only numbed her outstretched arms and wounded extremities further.

For years, Sandra kept journals, and she fought to make sense of the experience after leaving his residence. She likened what she felt to a “spiritual orgasm,” since the way her shell like body fell molted from her body had stuck in her head more vividly than anything else.

Reason didn't return quickly or easily. For now, all she could do was scream, spurt, and grind as muscles far from her tortured cavern seized up. When her constricted points finally loosened, she recalled the feeling of coming back to earth in the hospital bed after her accident.

Release...sweet, sweet release,
she thought, inhaling the fading stench of his smoke and her own sweat.

“How wonderful you are when you cum, Sandra. You'll need to keep that pleasure and energy going.

Not just for me, but for your own good, all the way until you reach the grave at the end of your life.

Now, I think it's time you graduated to what you've had your eyes on all along...” The brain fog prevented her from shrieking and beating at his shoulders when he unbuckled her shackles, dropping her to the floor. Her body wilted limply against the pavement, and when she came to, he was between her legs, rubbing his enormous shaft around and around her spiraling walls.

“Wait...wait!” she cried, coming to her senses. Too late.

One more push forward and he was in her, igniting a terrible sense of need she never knew before. Her reason didn't stand a chance, as she saw clearly long after the billionaire took her. That didn't stop it from putting up one last pathetic fight.

“No, Lucien. This wasn't in the contract. No, no, no...I'm not protected. You can't fuck me, you can't cum, you can't!” Her tongue felt like it was stuck to a mouthful of buttery grits, sliding around until her words melted.

“That's the point. You didn't really think I would settle for a few hours of fun and a quick blow, did you?” He glared down at her with demonic superiority, pinching her bruised tits in his rough hands.

When he started ramming her, the last puny barricades of resistance crumbled. He was bigger than most of her lovers, reaching all the way up to her cervix, punching her soft ceiling as he started the long volley of jabs that would end in filling her to the brim with his seed.

“Lucien...ahhhh. Lucien...ohhhh. Humph!” Her clit stroked against the mat of manly flesh and pubic hair that rode up against her slit each time he flung himself all the way into her. Soon, she couldn't have even thought of prying him away, too enslaved to her need for that fire in his bulging seed bulbs.

He's all the way up to your womb, and you're not on the pill. You never believed in it, did you Sandy?

The accident took away that nasty IUD too, unchaining your eggs to do what they do best.

The voice stopped, drowned out by the savage downward stabs of his cock. She could barely move anything but her lungs, lips, and ankles. Her body uncontrollably coiled itself around the hunky shape burrowing into her, nestling between his firm ass and the wolf skin blanket that enveloped them.

A low rumble moved across Lucien's throat as he forced himself deeper. She was chirping and thrashing from side to side as he moved across her, stopping to pull hard on the clothespins attached to her stricken nips. He smiled with pleasure as she moaned out her feelings, vocally bleeding the new order within her, the one where the easy distinction between pleasure and pain had been destroyed.

Sandra couldn't tell world from world anymore. The dim basement light turned into shards as she jerked her neck beneath his heavy breaths, listening to his muscular chest throb with his racing heartbeats.

“Please! Don't cum in. Whatever you do, don't cum in me.” Her reason had returned just a little to make one last plea, but from the look in his eyes, it was a request she he would ignore.

“Quiet, slut. Your body belongs to me now, and I'll own your mind far longer than tonight,” he said, slowing enough to twist her nipple up to the side until she gritted her teeth.

Her own legs mutinied against her as they wound tighter around his strong hips. She lifted and slammed back down against the hardened floor as she moved with his seesaw thrusts.

When he sensed his scrotum pulling up against his body, he doubled his erotic wrangling, biting into her shoulder and hammering that sopping wet space between her legs. Sandra groaned and pulled on her hair, pinned down by one shoulder as he forced wave after wave of pressure across her skin each time he dug deeper.

Her second orgasm had nearly started, and she knew that the long fuse was ignited. The final shock to her system came when the low, almost mechanical churning hummed in his throat.

His grip around her limbs became suffocating, and he powered himself into her one last time, all the way until her clit writhed against his hard pressed pubic shield. Her cervix contracted down and sloshed against the head of his cock, which erupted so hard she could feel it.

Spurt!

Jet number one burst against the entrance to her birth canal, seeping into her hungry womb, which had lain barren over the years of a glitzy career and dozens of short lived relationships. She saw herself spinning out of control on the darkened road, careening toward the hateful face behind the window of the other vehicle.

Spurt!

Even in his orgasmic throes, Lucien stayed in control. Just before the ecstasy tsunami overtook him, he thought about the massive candelabra in his master bedroom. Each arm held a flickering votive candle that he lit on his quiet nights, when he wanted to visualize how many bastard children he had created, and re-live the ways he impregnated their mothers.

Spurt! Spurt! Spurt!

His cock vibrated with an ejecting force that seemed as though it would never be quashed. Whenever he swelled and lost more of himself in her seething depths, she rolled her back, lightly humping him as her orgasm hit in wave after punishing wave.

Sandra screamed, never having taken such a sexual beating. Her eyebrows furrowed as the glowing balls beneath them circled round and round, the only response she could muster to the brimstone crackling through blood and bone, landing in great busts across all her energy points. Her nipples, clit, fingers, and toes hardened and tried to curl.

Eventually, the miniature Eden wavered, until they found themselves rasping heavily, back in the sleek basement. He anchored himself against her womb as his cock descended from its peak, softly dribbling more of his seed into her overfilled flower.

Lucien smiled, imagining another mission accomplished. Vainly, he stared deep into her eyes from behind his mask, transmitting scenes of furious sperm weaving a path toward her fertile fruits. He never knew that she saw a very similar scene, even if imagined psychic transmissions had little to do with it.

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

Sandra's mind raced with exasperation as she crashed back into reason's unwanted grip. The two hemispheres of her brain buzzed against each other, and she heard the voices ringing in her skull with a clarity they hadn't had since the accident.

Congratulations, Sandy. You did it – fast lane to motherhood!

No, no. What am I going to do?

How about suck up some more of that baby making seed? There's enough in your slit to nourish your
eggs for days, but a few more of those delicious drops will be sure to get the job done.

She grunted as her vaginal walls tilted against his shrinking cock again, pulling his remnants deeper into her. Lucien had done all that he could, and he dragged himself away with cooling interest.