Evocation (21 page)

“I do!” she wailed. Inside her, the stranger’s cock swelled. “I do like it! Anthony! I…uh! Uh! Oh! Anthony, I think he’s going to come! He’s in me too deep! It hurts! How—Anthony!”

A huge torrent of hot wet come erupted inside her. She thrashed as she felt it pour into her, trapped by his tight grip. He continued to thrust, slamming deep into her on every stroke. She went limp in his grasp, panting, her body pressed to the cold stone railing. His thrusts did not stop until his cock started to soften, drained and spent.

Finally, he pulled slowly out of her and released her hands, leaving her slumped over the banister, panting. She laid still, her cheek resting on rough stonework.

Anthony moved in close beside her. His fingers ran lightly down her back. Her dress remained bunched up around her hips; she was aware, in a distant way, that anyone who walked by would plainly see her gaping, just-fucked pussy, still oozing with come, but she could not gather up the strength to move. She felt her breasts press against the cold balustrade with each gasping breath.

He drew closer still. Eileen could see a bulge straining against the front of his pants. She reached out slowly with one hand to stroke him through his clothes, her fingertips tracing the shape of the hard erection concealed inside. “Oh!”

“Yes. That’s right.” He nodded down at her. “The question that you wanted to ask me before. Did you want to know if any of the men here tonight have fucked you?”

She nodded, her fingers still moving over the shape of his cock.

“What kind of filthy come-filled fuck-toy walks into a room full of people and doesn’t even know if she’s fucked any of them or not?”

She flushed, fingers still tracing the bulge beneath his slacks.

“Earlier this evening, you didn’t know if any of the people here had fucked you.” He smiled. “Now, you know at least one of them has.”

“Who—”

“No.” He wagged his finger. “You don’t get to know. Not now, not ever. Now get up. We better go back inside before people start to talk.”

Chapter 20

Eileen straightened. Immediately, she felt wetness spill from her and drip down her leg. She smoothed out her dress, thankful to be covered again. Her body still thrummed from the pounding, and from the intensity of the orgasm it had given her.

She took her seat at the table in the banquet hall, demurely, eyes down, afraid to look at anyone directly lest they read what had just happened in her face. It occurred to her to wonder if the people around her could smell the sex on her.
What will they think? Will they know I was taken against my will? Will they know it made me come?

The evening became a haze. Anthony held her hand under the table, his thumb stroking her skin. She poured herself more champagne and tried not to think about whether or not the men seated around her knew what had happened…or worse yet, knew from experience what it was like to rape her.

The evening finally ended. The crowd dissipated. The people around their table rose and exchanged goodbyes. Anthony stood and escorted her, arm in arm, back down to the waiting limo. She climbed gratefully into its safe cocoon, protected from the world. The hotel disappeared behind them. Cars flowed around them, each one an island, insulated and distant.

Eileen’s head hummed with champagne and sex. She could still feel the sticky wet warmth dripping from her. Anthony watched her, smiling. Her hand ran down his shirt, caressed his lap, touched hardness. Her eyes widened.

“Kneel,” he said.

She complied willingly, descending to her knees on the floor in the back of the limo.

“Take off your dress. Give it to me.”

She stripped, pulling the dress over her head. He took it from her outstretched hand. A touch on the control and the window slid down. Cold air whipped around them. He tossed the dress out the window, where the wind snatched it away. She had only a brief glimpse of it sailing down the street before it was gone. The window closed. “Touch me.”

She stroked him through his pants, obedient, compliant, following the shape of his cock through expensive fabric. He sighed. The butterflies swirled in her stomach. She unfastened his pants, slowly, lovingly, to draw out his erection. Her hands caressed it, feeling its warmth. She longed to worship it, stroke it, bring it into her mouth…

“No,” he said. “Not your mouth. Your cunt. Come here. Sit on top of me. I own that cunt. Give it to me.”

She rose from her position on the floor to impale herself on him as she straddled him. “Ungh!”

“Yes. Just like that.”

Anthony moved under her, slowly at first. His hands curled around her breasts. He squeezed, hard, his shaft rigid inside her. She gave herself to him, pliant in his hands, moving his hips to work his shaft deeper into her.

He responded to her gentle compliance with greater ferocity. He was rough, demanding, taking sex from her body; she gave it to him willingly, with gentle submission. The harsher he was, the more pliant she became. He moved his hips hard, slamming up into her until her head bumped against the ceiling with each thrust. She braced her hands against the roof and leaned forward, offering her breasts to him.

He took her nipple between his lips. As he thickened within her, he bit down hard. She cried out softly, pressing against him, making no move to escape. His teeth sunk into soft skin. They both came together, fiercely, abandoning themselves entirely to it.

When it was over and her body had stopped shaking, she lifted herself from him and returned to the floor. She knelt there, her head on his leg, quivering while the city streamed by. A bruise had already started forming on her breast where he had bitten her.

He stroked her hair softly. Neither of them spoke until the limo arrived at their home. As it pulled up in front of the house, Anthony zipped his pants. He pulled some folded bills from his wallet and handed them to her. “Here. Go tip the driver. Be polite. I’ll be inside.”

He left the car. Eileen stepped naked out into the night air. Goose bumps rose on bare flesh. The driver’s window slid down. She saw surprise on the driver’s face and flushed, embarrassed. An impulse came, to fold her hands protectively over her body, cover herself from his sight.
No
, she told herself.
This is for Anthony, too. He wanted to expose me this way.
White goo slid from between her legs.

“Here you go,” she said, passing him the folded bills. Warm light spilled out from the car, bathing her face and breasts in its yellow glow. The driver’s eyes slid over her body. Hot shame crawled down her neck.

“The service was acceptable, miss? You had a nice trip?”

“Yes. Very—” She caught herself. Her face reddened. “Very nice. Thank you.”

“You are sure? You enjoyed the ride?”

“Yes. I did. Thank you.” She turned toward the house.

“Miss? Here. Take my card. If you ever need anything, you call, okay?” He pressed the paper rectangle between her unresisting fingers. His eyes lingered on the bite mark visible on her breast. He grinned lewdly. “Anything at all.”

“Thank you.”

“You like it rough?” His eyes, glittering with avarice, lingered on the fresh bruise on her breast. “Anything you need. You call.”

“I will. Thank you.” She turned and walked away, hips swaying as she had been taught. The limo did not move until after she closed the door behind her.

Anthony was already in the bedroom. A pillow lay on the floor. Eileen approached him seductively, without haste, one hand caressing her own breast as she came near. She moved in to kiss him, and at the last minute turned aside to whisper in his ear. “I feel your come in me,” she said softly, one hand lightly touching his shoulder.

She spent a long time working him up again. She undressed him slowly, bit by bit, running fingers and lips over each tiny part of exposed skin as though she were mapping out a strange and delightful new country. By the time her exploring fingers reached his pants, he was already excited again, his arousal apparent by the stiffening bulge growing there.

The visible signs of his arousal excited her. She tried not to think about how it would end, with the unpleasant taste of his ejaculate filling her mouth, her own need unsatisfied, and instead concentrated on his responses. She had learned how to read the subtlest of his cues, how to interpret each tiny little shudder as she used her hands and body to arouse him, to get him ready to accept the offer of her mouth.

Watching him respond gave her a sense of power in her own sexiness and desirability. Her body responded, too, matching his growing arousal, waking her own desire. When she had finally slid off the last of his clothing, and her fingertips ran lightly over the surface of his erect penis, she felt like she was on fire.

She knelt on the pillow and opened her mouth. As his erection slid in, she nearly came. She remained there, right on the edge of orgasm, while she sucked him, slowly, lingering over him.

He shuddered when he came. Thick salty semen sprayed into her mouth. She coughed on the mouthful of goo, shivering on the edge of her own orgasm, but it faded away and left her frustrated. White fluid dripped down her chin.

A moment later, she was stretched out passively on the bed, looking up at him as he went about fastening the chains to her wrists and ankles. “I’m so proud of you, my darling little whore. You are almost ready!”

“Ready?” she asked. “For what?”

“Your training is nearly over. There are a few minor little bits that still need a bit of smoothing out, like your distaste for come, but you are almost ready to become a full-fledged sex slave.” He smiled down at her. “I will need to make an appointment for you to be evaluated by Dr. Moreland, but I think you are ready.”

Eileen quivered. “What does that mean?”

“Once your training is officially declared to be over, you will truly be my slave. Of course, that means holding you to a much stricter standard of behavior, and you will be punished for even minor infractions, but I think you’ll do fine. And there’s the…” He cleared his throat. “But we’ll have time to discuss that later. Go to sleep, little whore. Your training is nearly finished!”

Chapter 21

Eileen lay awake for a long time, chained to the bed, with scattered images lingering in her mind and her body. She could still feel the cold stone balustrade pressing against her breasts, the unseen man’s cock thrusting into her. She fidgeted and squirmed, too horny to sleep. Several times, she slid her hands down her body toward her dripping pussy, only to be stopped short by the chains.

She rolled over onto her back. Beside her, Anthony slept deeply, curled up on his side. Eileen’s hands glided over her breasts, squeezing and caressing, while the way she had been taken on the balcony replayed again and again in her mind. Her fingers pressed into the bruise where Anthony had bitten her.

When sleep finally did come, it was filled with vivid dreams, crackling with sexual energy. A hooded man, strong and powerfully built, held her down in the middle of a banquet table. All around, men and women in fancy clothes and strange, ornate masks watched while he raped her. She fought uselessly against him. He overpowered her easily. His rigid cock thrust hard into her, so fast it made her scream. It hurt at first, but as he continued, it began to feel better and better. Soon, pleasure overwhelmed her resistance. What had started as rape became something else; her arms and legs wrapped tightly around him, and she kissed him as she came. When he was finished, he spread her open to display her to the masked people seated around the table. She slid her fingers between her legs and masturbated openly for them, relishing the wet of his come dripping from her, savoring the eyes on her.

When Anthony woke her that morning, she was dripping wet. As soon as he had uncuffed her, she placed the pillows in their appointed positions and offered herself to him, back arched, arms stretched languidly along the bed. He slid slowly into her ass. She moved at a leisurely pace, working her hips unhurriedly to that place where they both cried out and his come flooded into her.

After she had bathed him, she dried him with a soft fluffy towel and helped him dress. The soft lazy smile never left her face. She felt warm and vibrant, her body awash in erotic energy. Her fingers brushed playfully across his skin every time he came near.

“My goodness, you are in quite the mood this morning, my darling little whore,” Anthony said. He grinned his boyish grin. His fingers caressed her bare breast. “What has you in such a good mood?”

“Do I need a reason?”

“Perhaps. Whatever it is, I like it. Did being raped in a public place put you in this wonderful mood? Was that what did it?”

She blushed and ducked her head. Her cheeks colored. “Maybe,” she said. She pressed her body against his. One hand ran down his body to follow the contours of his cock through his pants. The other slid up the back of his neck to draw him in close for a long kiss. “Or maybe you just turn me on.”

He grinned. “Or maybe knowing that you’re almost done with your training and you’ll soon be a full-fledged sex slave turns you on.”

Wild, reckless energy filled her. “Did it excite you to watch me being raped last night?” Her voice was challenging. Her fingers traced the outline of his cock. “Did you like seeing another man hold your wife down and shove his cock into her? Did it turn you on when I told you how it felt?” She felt astonished at her boldness.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, it did.” He put his hand between her breasts and shoved her back against the wall, so hard she let out a squeak of surprise. His other hand slipped between her legs. When he touched wetness, he pushed his fingers inside her. “Almost as much as it excited you. You know what else excites me?”

“Oh!” She quivered at the touch, eyes closed.

“It excites me to see how much you love being a sex slave.” He released her suddenly “And I have plans for you this weekend, yes I do. But before those, breakfast!”

She let out a little mewling sound of disappointment when he turned away toward the kitchen.

After breakfast, Eileen moved to get dressed. He grabbed her by the arm. “Stay just as you are. Wait here. There’s something I want to do.”

She watched him disappear up the stairs. Now that the heat of sexual excitement was wearing off, she found herself filled with doubts. Talking so openly about what had happened last night, being so bold about how she felt…these were things that men didn’t like, weren’t they? What if Anthony thought she was too slutty? What if she seemed too easy? Would he find her repulsive? Would he want to be rid of her?

The doubt resonated in her mind.
Is Anthony right about what kind of person I am?
she asked herself.
Do I like being raped in public?
It seemed unlikely, even laughable, that any man might enjoy watching another man have sex with his wife. Yet Anthony kept arranging situations where other people used her for sex. What happened when he grew tired of that? Surely he would realize how defiled she was, and want to be rid of her.

Lying in the dark, chained to the bed, secretly touching herself, the things that had happened seemed alluring and sexy. But now, in the light of day, the way she had asked him so directly if he liked watching what had happened to her, the way she had been so openly, wantonly sexual in the limo on the ride home…those things suddenly felt dirty and wrong. Her arousal drained away like water, leaving her feeling cold and a little unsure.

From upstairs, she heard a muffled thump, followed by the sound of something metal crashing to the floor. There was a pause, then a scraping sound. Another thud sounded. Her heart raced.

A few moments later, Anthony came down the stairs carrying the device he’d called a Sybian, the power cord dragging along behind him. He had removed the T-shaped metal bar that he had cuffed her wrists to. The sight of it brought back those memories, as sharp as if he had bound her to the machine just yesterday. She shuddered and looked away.

“Anthony, when I said those things about you being excited by…you know, by last night, I didn’t mean…” Her voice trailed off.

“Yes?” He raised one eyebrow.

“It’s wrong! I’m not the kind of person who…you know, when that man was holding me down, I couldn’t…I didn’t really, you know, like it, but…” Her face grew hot. She stopped, flustered. “It would be unfaithful! And saying those things is…”She stopped again. He watched her placidly. All the confidence she’d felt earlier seemed to evaporate. “What I mean is, that isn’t it. It’s not the things that man did! That doesn’t put me in a good mood.”

“Oh?” Anthony said. “Well, I think I can help put your mind at rest.”

“Really?”

“Yes. There’s something very important you might have forgotten about.” He smiled. “Your body is my property. I can do whatever I like to it, and that includes loaning it out to others if I choose. You have no choice whatsoever in this. So you see, you don’t need to worry about it; you can’t control it anyway. Though in all honesty…” His grin grew wider. “I know you like it.”

She opened her mouth to reply. He lifted a finger. “Don’t even try to deny it. I saw how hard you came last night, and I saw how you were after.”

“But—”

“Hush.” He set the Sybian down next to the couch. She watched him plug it in. A strange mix of emotions roiled in her.

“Anthony—”

“Hush. Not a word. Today we are going to start working on changing your attitude about some things.” He grinned wolfishly. “Come here,” he said, pointing to the Sybian. “Sit.”

She approached it warily. Her body remembered it well. Wetness began forming between her legs.

Self-conscious under Anthony’s watchful eyes, Eileen lowered herself gingerly onto the machine. The dildo projecting up was stubby but quite thick, and she felt awkward as she worked herself down onto it.

“Buckle the straps. Strap your legs down.”

She complied, feeling even more self-conscious. The act of strapping herself to the Sybian made her feel vulnerable and submissive. Her body responded strongly to the restraint, twitching around the dildo pressed up inside her. Her breath quickened.

Anthony sat on the couch, one leg on each side of her. “Unzip my pants,” he said. Eileen quivered, partly in anticipation, partly in fear. He picked up a newspaper. “Put my cock in your mouth.”

Her hands moved to caress his pants. He paid no notice, instead opening the paper. She unzipped him and drew out his penis. He was quite soft, apparently unaroused.

Her tongue swirled around the head. She sucked his soft cock into her mouth. Her lips closed around his shaft. Her head began to bob.

“No,” Anthony said. “Stay still. Concentrate on the way it feels in your mouth. I want you to focus all of your attention on it. Just stay right there.”

He started to read his paper. Eileen sat there, the dildo quiet inside her, and tried to focus. His soft penis, clean and warm, filled her mouth. She could feel its texture on her tongue, the small ridge along its underside, the bulbous head pressing lightly against the roof of her mouth. Having it there made her mouth water uncontrollably, and before long a small thin line of drool leaked from the corner of her lips and started to run down toward her chin…

“Focus,” Anthony said. His fingers pressed against the back of her head. “Your concentration is slipping. Focus on how it feels to have my cock in your mouth.”

Her attention shifted back. She concentrated on the way his shaft curled slightly to nestle against his tongue. The small motions of her breathing caused it to shift, ever so slightly. Even in stillness, it felt alive, in a way that a dildo couldn’t.

She thought about the way it felt when the blunt round head pressed against the back of her throat. Her body responded to the thought; Eileen felt herself tighten around the hard shaft impaling her cunt. Her clit throbbed against the ridge that ran along the front of the Sybian. She heard the rustle of the pages turning as Anthony read, felt the leather straps buckled tightly around her thighs to hold her down.

Anthony’s fingers curled in her hair. “Focus! When you have a cock in you, that is the only thing you should be paying attention to.”

Eileen flushed. She felt a tinge of humiliation at being forced to pay such close attention to Anthony when he was clearly not paying attention to her. She felt like an object, here only to service him. The feeling sent butterflies swirling in her stomach.

She wrestled her attention back to his cock. Very slowly, so subtly that she didn’t notice it at first, it started to harden in her mouth. She felt it become slightly thicker against her tongue. The head crept deeper, toward her throat. She did nothing to encourage it, but merely remained still and allowed it to grow.

Finally, after more than half an hour had passed, Anthony put down the paper. His penis was by this time semi-erect in her mouth, still somewhat soft and pliable. He looked down at her. “Now,” he said, “you may suck me off. When I come, you will hold it in your mouth. Do you understand?”

Her stomach did flip-flops. The thought of keeping his come in her mouth sickened her. Even after all the times he had made her suck him, the taste and feel of his semen still filled her with disgust, and her first impulse was always to spit it out or choke it down as quickly as she could.

Reluctantly, she began to suck. Habit and experience quickly took over, and soon she was bobbing her head up and down expertly over his shaft. It grew to full hardness in her mouth. Her body, conditioned by months of practice, flushed with the hot tingle of arousal.

Anthony moaned. The sound made Eileen’s heart beat faster. His cock swelled. She sucked faster, encouraging him. He threw back his head and roared with pleasure as he came. Thick fluid gushed into her mouth, filling it with the salty taste of semen.

When he had finished spurting, he pressed her back. “Tilt your head back. Hold it. Focus on what’s in your mouth. Think about how it tastes. Feel how warm and thick it is. Concentrate on the texture.”

Eileen gagged. Deliberately turning her awareness to the mouthful of semen caused her throat to close. She coughed wetly. A droplet ran from the corner of her mouth. Her stomach churned.

Anthony knelt behind her. “The thing about a Sybian,” he said conversationally, “is that it’s about as subtle as a truck. It doesn’t care what mood you’re in. It will make you come whether you’re horny or not. Even if you’re totally turned off.” He twisted a knob. Eileen felt the dildo start to squirm inside her. The ridge buzzed with a loud, raspy noise against her clit.

“We are going to train you to respond to having your mouth filled with come,” he said. “From now until you’re properly trained, you will be permitted to have an orgasm only when you have a mouthful of semen. You will be required to swallow at the exact instant you come.”

She whimpered. Her stomach lurched at his words. He slid his hands over her breasts. “Shh. Don’t fight it,” he said. “It won’t do any good.”

Eileen thrashed in sudden dread. She knew, from past experience, that he could do it. Her body could be programmed to respond with sexual arousal to the feel and taste of his come, just as it responded to having his erect cock pushed down her throat. She could see herself being conditioned to the point where she craved it in her mouth, where the anticipation of it would light her up, where she would yearn for that first gush of hot salty goo spurting across her tongue…