Evocation (23 page)

A car drove by. The driver honked. Eileen’s heart leaped into her throat. She tugged at the ropes, but they held fast. Her mind raced. What would happen if someone came walking along the sidewalk? Being seen from passing cars was one thing; it seemed to her that they probably wouldn’t stop. But what about someone walking by? It would be easy enough to just walk up to her. Bound as she was, she would be unable to prevent anyone from touching her.

What if the grocery store cashier came by?

Her breath caught in her throat. It could happen; the store was in the neighborhood. Was he aware of how flustered she was every time she saw him? What would he do, if he came upon her, naked and exposed like this? Would he take advantage of the opportunity? Her pussy tightened. Would he walk up the driveway to her, gravel crunching under his feet? Would he care if she struggled?

More cars passed by. Eileen panted. Turbulent emotions roiled in her. She pictured the cashier walking toward her with purpose in his eye. Would the passing cars stop? Would anyone come to rescue her?

Her pussy clenched harder. Or…or would they want to watch? She imagined people stopping, getting out of their cars, gathering in the driveway, attracted by her screams. She pictured strong arms grabbing her, a hard cock shoving insistently into her. Stripped bare and bound like this, arms and legs open wide, what else could she be but an offering to anyone who wanted her?

She imagined a line forming. She imagined the ropes holding her in place, positioned to accept whatever was done to her. She pictured their hands and mouths on her, indifferent to her struggles, interested only in pleasuring themselves with her body. Wetness flowed down her leg as she pictured some of the men, impatient, moving behind her, satisfying themselves by pressing into her ass, not wanting to wait for her cunt to become available.

Her hips swayed unconsciously. She pictured herself at the center of a growing knot of men, all hard cocks and desire, raping her repeatedly, ignoring her screams…

The door behind her opened. Anthony came out, trailing a hand along her back. He circled in front of her, smiling. “How are you doing, my lovely little whore?”

Eyes unfocused, she kissed him, deeply, urgently. Her body pressed as tightly against him as the ropes would allow. Her lips parted. Her tongue slipped into his mouth. She ground her hips against him, longing to feel him hard beneath his pants. She heard desperate little whimpering sounds, and realized they were coming from her.

Anthony stepped back in surprise. “Oh! That well, hmm? I quite like you this way, I think.”

She panted. “What way?”

“Naked, bound, and horny.” He grinned. His fingers traced a path between her legs, lightly grazing her clit. “You like being put on display.”

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Dinner is ready.” He started to untie her ankles from the columns. Her disappointed sound only made him grin wider.

When she was free, he led her back into the house. He seated her at the table, ropes still attached to the cuffs at her wrists. He looped the other ends of the ropes around the polished wood table legs before tying them to her thigh, just above her knees. Eileen quickly realized that every time she raised her hands, the ropes pulled her legs apart; they left just enough room for her to be able to eat, but only by spreading her legs apart until her knees touched the table legs.

“Yes,” he said as understanding of her predicament dawned in her eyes.

He watched her with a small smirk all through the meal. With each motion, the ropes pulled Eileen’s legs apart. The feeling of vulnerability returned; she could not even eat without exposing her dripping pussy to him. A quick thought flashed through her mind, an image of being bound this way at the awards banquet they had attended, forced to expose herself to the gathered people. Her nipples grew taut.

Eileen caught a glint of amusement in Anthony’s eye. A playful feeling crept over her. She smiled at him and slowly parted her legs. Her fingers ran over the hollow of her throat, then trailed downward, over her painted breasts. “Do you like showing off my body?” she asked. “Does it turn you on when strange men look at me?”

He smiled. “Perhaps. Does it turn you on?”

Her hand crept lower. She slid one finger inside herself, surprised by her flagrant wantonness. She rolled a nipple between her fingers. A shudder ran through her. “I…I don’t know.”

“I think you like being tied up and shown off. I think you like when people look at you and want to fuck you.” He grinned wider. “I think you especially like it when you can’t do anything about it.”

“What would you have done if you would have gone outside and found someone raping me?” Eileen thrust her fingers deeper. Her hand tightened on her breast. “Would you have rescued me? Or would you just watch?”

“Which would you rather I do?”

She slid her fingers out. A slow smile crept over her face. She leaned over the table toward him. “Which…whichever you wanted to do. I think…” Her voice hesitated. That strange recklessness crept over her. “I think you like watching your wife get tied up and raped.”

“Oh, I do, do I?”

Her hands slid over her breasts. “I think watching would get you hard. I think you’d like that.” Her eyes closed. “Maybe then you would join in.”

He smiled. “You know what I think? I think my wife likes being tied up and raped.”

She shivered. Doubt assailed her. Was she going too far? Should she be encouraging him like this? What would happen if he grew tired of her open sluttiness? She lowered her eyes, sheepish. “I think your wife wants to finish eating dinner.”

“I think my wife is a slut,” he smiled.

After dinner, Anthony led her into the bathroom by the ropes still fastened to her wrists. Soon, she was bound to the shower stall. Water sprayed from the showerhead, causing the shirt to stick transparently to her skin. She gasped.

Methodically and thoroughly, Anthony washed her, scrubbing away every trace of his artwork from her body. His hands were gentle but firm, soaping and fondling her breasts, travelling down her sides, caressing her belly. Eileen closed her eyes, lost in his sensual touch. She was used to being the one who washed him; the feel of his hands on her body, and the care and attention with which he bathed her, made her glow. She sighed, lips brushing lightly against his neck. A rainbow of colors swirled down the drain.

He knelt in front of her, hands sliding down her legs. Water poured around his body. Eileen felt his tongue probing her clit. She cried out, thrusting her hips forward toward him. He held her hips and drew her closer, running his tongue over her until her knees buckled. She moaned over and over, hips pressing into his face. He pulled away and looked up at her with a gentle smile. “You are very precious to me, my darling little whore. But you know the rules. I will not let you come.”

She squirmed with disappointment. Her body twitched with pleasure denied, even while he untied her and toweled her off.

He dressed, but refused to allow her to. He directed her to sit nude beside him on the couch. They watched television for a while, his hand occasionally caressing her leg. Finally, he rose. “Time for bed!”

A dizzying rush of arousal swept through her. She followed him into the bedroom, pussy twitching. Once there, she closed the door behind them. Without a word, she crossed over to him. Her parted lips touched his, very lightly. He leaned in to kiss her, but she evaded him easily. She slid down his body until she was prone at his feet, hard nipples grazing the floor. She untied his shoes, one by one, and slipped them off.

She moved slowly to her knees, hands caressing his penis through the front of his slacks, coaxing him to hardness. When she heard his breathing change, she tugged the button of his pants open with her teeth before rising to her feet, trailing her fingers along his chest. She kissed him hungrily, one hand sliding under his waistband, teasing the head of his cock.

Eileen took her time undressing him, letting her lips and tongue explore each newly exposed bit of flesh. When she had finally stripped him naked, she teased him for a long time, kissing him languidly while her fingers traveled slow meandering paths over his body. She delighted in the way he quivered, in the tension in his breathing, in the hardness of his erection.

When he could not stand any more, he pointed to the Sybian on the floor. “Now,” he said. His voice was hoarse.

She gave him a smile when she straddled it. She sat slowly, letting out a soft “oh!” as the dildo slid into her wet pussy. Slowly and carefully, she buckled the straps around her legs, pulling them tight. “Is this how you like to see me?”

He handed her the handcuffs. She locked the steel bracelet around one wrist. Eyes on his, she ran her hands up slowly over her breasts, savoring the feeling of her own skin and of his eyes on her. Her hands moved higher, up along her neck, through her hair. The dangling end of the handcuffs caught on her nipple for a moment, making her breath catch in her throat.

Still moving slowly, deliberately, she put her hands behind her back. The ratchet closed around her other wrist. The wild spark of lasciviousness took hold. She looked up at Anthony, licking her lips. “Do you want to fuck my mouth, Anthony? I’m tied down. I can’t get away. Are you going to come in my mouth now? I can’t stop you. Are you going to make me like it?”

He moved close. A drop of wetness rolled down along his shaft. She parted her lips for him. He brought the head of his cock closer, until it was just brushing them. She slid her tongue along the bottom of his shaft. He shuddered.

She brought him into her mouth just a little bit, moving slowly, letting her tongue caress his shaft. Gradually, she increased her tempo, moving her head a little faster with each stroke, taking him a little deeper, until she felt his swollen head at the back of her throat. When he thickened in her mouth, she slowed down, teasing him, backing off until he slipped away from the brink; then, when he had recovered a bit, she increased her pace once more, bring him closer to the edge again.

She repeated that pattern for a long time, bringing him deeply into her mouth, feeling her body clench around the dildo inside her each time his cock pressed against her throat, coaxing him to near the point of orgasm and then slowing down. Her tongue played constantly along the sensitive underside of his erection.

Eventually, he could not stand it any longer. He grabbed her hair with both hands and thrust hard, forcing his erect shaft down her throat. He came hard, his body jerking and shuddering, a cascade of hot semen gushing into her mouth.

Eileen jerked at the sudden flood of warm goo. Her body spasmed. Unexpectedly, without warning, she came.

As orgasms went, it wasn’t all that big. A quick sharp contraction, a sudden squeeze around the dildo, a rush of pleasure through her body, and it was over. She swallowed reflexively.

Anthony moaned. He held her head tightly, still thrusting, while his cock twitched in her mouth. Another torrent of come shot from him. She swallowed again, eyes wide, feeling the thick disgusting stuff slide down her throat.

When he was done, he slipped out of her lips. She looked up at him, realization showing in her eyes. He had done precisely what he’d said he would do, programmed her body to respond to taking his ejaculation in her mouth. She whimpered softly.

“Yes,” he said. “It looks like I already have made you like it.”

He twisted a dial. The Sybian shuddered to life, buzzing and squirming inside her. “Hnnngh!” Eileen cried. Wave after wave of pleasure, wild and irresistible, rolled through her. Before long, another orgasm, wrenchingly intense this time, went shuddering through her.

Anthony smiled wide. “You did so well, I think you deserve a reward. What do you think?” Before she could answer, he twisted the knob all the way. The machine roared. Eileen cried out. “Stop! It’s too much!”

“Nonsense! You can take it. I know how much of a slut you are.”

Anthony knelt in front of her. While she squirmed helplessly, trapped, he leaned forward to take her nipple between his lips. She screamed, struggling, unable to escape. Her orgasms rolled into each other, until she could no longer tell when one ended and the next began. His hands and lips played over her body, kissing and stroking and fondling, while she writhed helplessly.

He did not turn the machine off until she slumped, glowing with sweat, too weak to move. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her preciously, while he unstrapped her. She looked up at him when he carried her over to the bed. “I’m so proud of you!” he said. The cuffs on their long chains were fastened around her wrists and ankles. “I think you’re ready to be certified as a full-fledged sex slave. And guess what? You’re free to have orgasms again when your mouth isn’t full of come.”

He kissed her forehead softly. She reached up with one hand to stroke his cheek. Tiny shudders quaked in her body. He looked down at her, glowing with adoration. “Sleep tight, little whore!”

He curled into bed behind her. She was asleep before he had even finished pulling up the covers.

Chapter 23

Over the next several days, they returned to their regular routine. Each morning, Eileen offering Anthony her ass; each evening, she offered her mouth for his pleasure. The long stretch of day between was filled with fantasies and, occasionally, sudden afternoon sex against the wall or bent over the kitchen table.

Each day, when bedtime crept close, she found herself growing more and more excited. The training had worked; the thought of taking Anthony into her mouth, feeling the warm wetness spurting down her throat, aroused her.

She still hated the taste and feel of the thick warm goo jetting across her tongue, but her body didn’t care. It remembered the association between the semen in her mouth and sexual pleasure. It made no difference to Eileen’s body that the slimy stuff still revolted her; her body craved it anyway, and rewarded her with pleasure each night when he used her mouth.

She found herself developing the habit of masturbating whenever she sucked him. Her hands would creep down to touch her clit; as her head bobbed, her fingers would work faster and faster. Most of the time, his orgasm would trigger her own, and pleasure would rush through her body as semen flooded her mouth. She was aware, in some part of her mind, that she was reinforcing the conditioning, but it didn’t matter; she couldn’t seem to stop touching herself whenever the head of his cock crossed her lips.

The next Saturday dawned clear and bright, with the sun spreading its rays in a hard blue cloudless sky. After Eileen had offered her ass for Anthony’s pleasure and then washed him clean, he kissed her cheek. “Today’s an important day, little whore! You have an appointment with Dr. Moreland today.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “What? Why?”

“He’s going to see if you’re ready to be certified as a full-fledged sex slave.”

Eileen’s stomach lurched. Tightness coiled around inside her. “What…” Her voice sounded strange in her ears. “What is he going to do to me?”

“Give you an exam. Ask you some questions.” Anthony smiled. “You know, the usual.”

“The usual? But that means—”

“Hush. Go get dressed. It’s time to go.”

Eileen fidgeted in the car during the drive. Strange emotions battled inside her. She couldn’t tell if she was looking forward to what might happen or not. Uncertainty and fear rose in her, but also a strange, feral excitement. A part of her wanted to show the doctor, and Anthony, how far she had progressed.

She wanted Dr. Moreland to declare her satisfactory, a true sex slave, ready to do whatever was demanded of her. She wanted to prove herself to him, show him how eager and skilled she had become. She thought it would please Anthony if the doctor were to put her through her paces and announce that she was now truly a slave, sufficiently skilled and trained to be put to full use. The idea that he might inspect her and declare her an object for other people’s pleasure excited her.

When they arrived at the office, Eileen’s fear and excitement were both at such a high pitch that body vibrated like a plucked guitar string. Anthony escorted her into the waiting room. The woman behind the reception desk, whose name Eileen couldn’t quite place—Mildred, perhaps? Miriam? Something like that—waved cheerfully. “Have a seat, dearie. Dr. Moreland will be right out.”

Anthony kissed Eileen’s forehead. “Have fun! I will be back to pick you up later.”

“Wait! You’re not even going to stay?”

He grinned. “Nope. You’re on your own. See you in a bit!”

Eileen’s heart hammered as she watched him leave. She was so focused on watching his car pull away that she jumped when a hand touched her shoulder. She spun around, expecting to see the doctor, and found herself looking up at light green scrubs printed with little dancing rabbits.

Samantha Bowes smiled down at Eileen. “Good morning, sweet pea! We’ve been expecting you. Can you follow me, please?”

Eileen rose, quivering. The nurse led her down the hall to a different door than the one she’d gone through last time she was here. It opened into a small room with a flat counter, a chair, and a coat rack, but no exam table. Across from the counter was another door. “Is this—”

“Wait here. The doctor will be in shortly.”

The nurse disappeared. The door closed behind her. Eileen sat on the chair, shaking.

After a time, the door opened again. Dr. Moreland came in, beaming. The nurse walked in behind him, carrying a clipboard.

“Ah, good morning, Mrs. Porto!” he said. His face was wreathed in smiles. “Always a pleasure to see you. How is your day today?”

A tiny ember of defiance flared within Eileen. “I know why I’m here,” she said. “Go ahead. Rape me and get it over with.”

“Nurse, can you please make a note that the subject has requested forcible sexual intercourse?”

“Of course.” Samantha’s voice sounded husky. Her eyes gleamed.

“That’s not what I meant!” Eileen said. “I—”

The doctor cut her off. “If you will follow me, please?” He opened the other door in the room and passed through it. Samantha smiled at Eileen. She rose unsteadily and moved after him.

The door brought her into a much larger room, longer than it was wide. On the near end sat a large, complicated-looking medical exam chair. Next to it, incongruously, was a huge flat-screen television.

At the other end of the room, about a dozen men and women were seated in folding chairs. Each of them was wearing a lab jacket. They all looked up expectantly when Eileen came in. Her stomach lurched.

The doctor gestured for her to stand in front of the exam chair, facing the audience. Eileen’s mind raced. Who were these people? Were they students? Doctors, like Dr. Moreland, who made a practice from sexual perversion? The lab coats didn’t necessarily mean anything; they might even be random people that he had brought in off the street. Did he even know who these people were? What were they here for?

“Let me start with some background on this particular subject,” Dr. Moreland said without preamble. “She was first brought to me by her fiancée, now her husband, for evaluation as a sex slave. Early in their relationship, she revealed to him that she could reach sexual gratification only from fantasies of forcible non-consensual sex acts. He wanted to create an environment that was as sexually gratifying for her as possible, so he came to me with the thought of developing a structured approach toward making forcible sexual use a regular part of her life. During my first examination, which the subject does not remember, I restrained her and evaluated her response to forced unwanted sexual intercourse. The subject responded with strong sexual gratification, and experienced several sexual climaxes.”

Eileen’s face burned red. Having her sexual experiences laid out in such stark terms in front of a group of strangers embarrassed her deeply. What would they think of her? Did they believe that she liked standing up in front of them like this, with her sexuality being talked about so openly?

“My initial evaluation also showed a very deep sexual repression,” Dr. Moreland continued, “with considerable resistance to many sexual acts, such as oral and anal congress. I laid out a training regimen of regular, heavy sexual use, which included components of repeated forcible sexual intercourse as well as forcible oral and anal sex. Her husband expanded on this regimen, which was adapted to include training and conditioning elements designed to make her crave sexual use, and to respond to oral and anal congress with physical arousal. Today, our purpose is to evaluate the success of that conditioning.” He turned toward the nurse. “Nurse Bowes, please disrobe the subject.”

“Wait!” Eileen said. “What—”

Samantha stepped behind Eileen. She wrapped her arms tightly around Eileen’s body, pinning her arms to her sides. Eileen squirmed and struggled, but the nurse was surprisingly strong. Her fingers undid the buttons on Eileen’s blouse. When they were unfastened, the nurse pulled the blouse from Eileen’s shoulders and dropped it to the floor.

Eileen’s face turned brighter red. She raised her arms to cover her breasts. The nurse knelt and yanked down Eileen’s skirt, leaving her bare. The watchers murmured.

Dr. Moreland turned toward her. “Place your hands behind your back.”

Slowly, flushing with shame, Eileen complied. She brought her hands away from her breasts, exposing her body openly to the stares of the people in front of her. The doctor took a metal pointer from his pocket and extended it.

“You will see that the subject is physically aroused. Notice the prominent erection of the subject’s nipples.” He pressed the blunt end of the pointer against one of Eileen’s nipples. The sensation made her gasp. “The subject has been conditioned to keep her legs apart at all times, even while walking and standing.” He moved the cold metal tip of the pointer down her body and over her mound, until it rested against her inner thigh. Her face burned. “You will observe that despite her shame reactions, and her attempt to cover herself with her hands, she is standing with her legs open quite wide.”

Eileen squirmed, deeply humiliated. The eyes of the audience felt like a physical pressure on her body.

“Note, too, the engorgement of the subject’s clitoris.” The pointer pressed against her clit. Eileen moaned. A rustle went through the group. “This subject exhibits sexual arousal to nearly any sort of involuntary sexual activity, including sexual display.” He gestured to the chair behind Eileen. “Please be seated. I will now begin the examination.”

Still blushing, Eileen obeyed. The nurse placed her wrists in the shackles built into the chair’s armrests and locked them closed. That done, she extended a set of metal stirrups from the base of the chair. She lifted Eileen’s ankles into the stirrups, spreading her legs wide. Metal latches closed over her ankles.

The doctor turned on the television next to the chair. Humming to himself, he slid a clear plastic speculum into Eileen’s pussy. She whimpered as he cranked her open. He set a small device on a short metal tripod between Eileen’s legs. “This camera will show you a close-up of the subject’s vagina on the television monitor during the examination,” he said. “Pay close attention to the subject’s state of lubrication and the contraction of the subject’s vaginal walls. You will be able to evaluate the subject’s arousal as the examination progresses.”

Eileen twisted her head to look at the television. There on the giant screen was a huge view of her sex, spread open wide by the speculum. She saw with humiliation that every part of the inside of her pussy was clearly visible in great detail. Wetness pooled within her, obvious to the camera.

She felt horribly exposed. This was much more humiliating than simply being naked in front of them; the camera zoomed in on her pussy and put it on display, larger than life, letting everyone see the most intimate part of her close up. She squirmed against the manacles. On the screen, the walls of her vagina twitched.

“The subject’s husband has reported a strong, orgiastic response to breast and nipple stimulation, which was an unexpected side effect of prolonged denial of sexual gratification. The subject has also shown a strong response to the infliction of pain on her breasts. I have not yet evaluated whether or not this is an ongoing phenomenon. Nurse Bowes will assist me in this evaluation. Nurse, if you please?”

Eileen realized what was about to happen a second before Samantha’s hands started to move toward her breasts. “No!” she cried. Her wrists twisted helplessly in the manacles. She wanted to cover herself with her arms, but the restraints held her naked and exposed. She thrashed, unwilling to be brought to orgasm in front of them, fearing it would strip away the last tiny shreds of her defenses. “No, please don’t!”

The nurse caressed her breasts, her hands soft on Eileen’s bare skin. Her fingertips strummed lightly over her nipples. Little bright flashes of pleasure arced through Eileen’s body. She thought about the television, displaying every little tremor inside her, revealing her deepest responses for everyone to see. Her clit throbbed with each touch. The camera magnified the tiniest responses, making her body’s reactions impossible to hide.

Panic gripped her. She remembered how powerfully she had come, that day when she had first discovered how her nipples seemed wired to her clit. The thought of losing control like that, here in front of these people, terrified her. The terror fed her arousal, making her body respond even more strongly. She tightened on the speculum. A murmur went through the audience.

Samantha leaned over to take a nipple between her lips. The wet slick of her tongue played rapidly over it. Her fingers stroked Eileen’s other nipple over and over, each time sending a flare of pleasure directly down to her clit. Eileen shivered. The touch fuelled her sexual excitement. Her nipples grew harder. The people in front of her leaned forward intently.

The nurse’s tongue flicked faster. Eileen struggled against the growing waves of arousal, each one rolling through her more strongly than the one before. With every flick, ripples of ecstasy radiated out from her nipple. She moaned. A vision came into her head, an image of Anthony walking in and seeing what was happening. Would he like what he saw? Would he want her to come in front of these strangers, her cunt magnified on TV so everyone could see?

“No!” she begged. Butterflies roiled. Samantha’s hand cupped her other breast, squeezing softly, sensuously. “No, stop! You have to stop! Please! Please, you have to stop now! I can’t…oh!” A blinding surge of tension swept her up, and suddenly, her body crossed the point of no return. “Oh! OOONGH!”