Isabelle's Awakening Ch. 05

Isabelle fought to remain calm. It wasn't easy; her lungs were working overtime to provide her brain with enough oxygen to survive. She was frightened by the strength in the hand holding her chin but unable to fight an invisible enemy.

"Lay down Isabelle." The electronic voice echoed eerily in the room and was so close it sent shivers up and down her back.

He released her and she wasted no time obeying, scooting down until she was lying prone on the thin sheets. Her chained arm was jerked above her head and secured to the post by another chain and her other hand quickly followed. She held her fear in check until she felt the chafing of the rope as he secured her ankles.

She struggled in vain against the rough fibers of the rope as they encircled her ankles. He wasted no time securing her though, and she soon found herself completely at his mercy. It wasn't a comforting thought. A rough hand removed the blindfold but there was little change in her view, as the room was illuminated only by a dim bulb in the closet.

Still pondering her predicament, she was unprepared for the bare hand that gripped her wrist above the rope.

Oh Lord, he was savage in his touch. He didn't grab, he didn't grope, or grapple helplessly, he simply owned. There were no limits he obeyed to own her body, mind, soul, and anything else he found along the way. All were fair game in his mind. She wasn't sure why she knew that but she knew it with certainty.

She was consumed with an overall feeling of warmth that spread soothingly throughout her limbs. She began to daydream, lingering in the sizzling heat flooding through her middle, and immediately images of Dillon's body bucking under her flashed like a movie playing on a screen in front of her eyes. She smiled, the last time they had been together had been incredible.

The grip around her wrist tightened and her eyes widened in alarm, had he read her thoughts? No, she was losing it for sure. She could've sworn his squeeze was in direct response to her thoughts, but that would be insane. No, he wasn't reading her mind. It was simply her overactive imagination going into overdrive. That and the extra bonus of being drugged with God knows what.

But the tingling warmth and languorous feeling that were invading her every pore said otherwise, even her hair felt like it was standing on end. She wanted to reach a hand up to check but felt ridiculous for even giving credence to her ramblings. Besides, the chains securing her hands wouldn't budge.

She relaxed further into the soft bed; why hadn't she noticed it was so soft before? The drugs must be making her loopy. Why else would she feel this way? This slow, searing, dreamy ... oh my God, it was lust she was feeling. Her insides clenched as if acknowledging the truth.

The hand squeezed once again. Her lust laden eyes flew open to look at her captor in the shadowy light. It was impossible to see anything, any light she might have had was blocked by his position and the handy mask he was wearing.

Suddenly flashes of her and Dillon tangled together on her bed, him taking her in the hall of her home, and his cock thrusting deeply into her played through her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to ignore the images. But closing her eyes didn't block out the mental images, they only increased the overwhelming urge she had to be with Dillon right now.

Damn Dillon, she knew it was him. Somehow, someway, he was showing her what he wanted to do to her in her head. Visions of naked limbs, a thick bulging head thrusting up hard into her pussy, her tied in several obscene positions, were just a few of the images she registered. She blushed at the last one. She felt violated, that he should show her those vile acts, as if... she couldn't go on. Her mouth had gone dry at that last image. No matter that it made her blush, she couldn't imagine not being that exposed to Dillon now.

Tentatively she tried communicating back to him. While her attempt was tentative, her tone was clear.

It wasn't enough to have my body.

She concentrated on sending the thought back at him. Concentrated might have been a bit of an exaggeration considering the fact that she had never tried to talk to someone (in her mind) and might, in fact, be suffering from severe delusions.

It's never enough.

The thought settled into her mind before she could finish questioning her sanity. Immediately she began to clear her mind of all thoughts, it was one thing to give your body to a man, but quite another if he also wanted to possess your mind. She concentrated fiercely on erecting a barrier between them but her work was for naught. For while she was concentrating so hard, he, too, had been hard at work.

Give it up Isabelle. I fought it for as long as I could, but its getting stronger. We are linked. You're mine.

Strong, hair-roughened arms brushed by her as yet another of his thoughts invaded her mind. She highly resented having him in her head and thought several nasty thoughts about him just to spite him. He laughed instead and any shadow of a doubt she had before about the identity of her kidnapper was gone in an instant.

She'd recognize the timbre of his voice, the subtle shift in tone when he was aroused, and his arrogance any day. It was as familiar to her as her own voice.

"You're a warlock aren't you?" She deliberately asked the question out loud, she did not want to encourage his shameless mind reading.

Shameless? I prefer merely expedient. Besides as far as I know, this thing goes both ways.

Oh?

He lays a bombshell on her that they can read each others' mind and all she can say, err, think is oh.

It's a lot to take in, trust me I know. But I think you'll find it has its advantages as well.

"Like what?" she snorted in disbelief.

Well, for one thing, we could talk about people we don't like in front of them without them ever knowing.

"And? So far your one advantage is that we can talk about people. What if I want to talk about you?" She pressed.

I would know of course. There can be no secrets between us now.

"And If don't want that? What then? Have I no recourse?" She kept voicing her questions out loud in order to try and maintain some semblance of distance between them. The sinking feeling in her stomach told her she was fighting a losing battle but she wouldn't give up just yet. There had to be some way to keep him from occupying her mind whenever he felt like it.

No, I'm afraid not. At least I have yet to find a way to stop this growing connection. It wasn't this strong yesterday, in fact...

She cut him off before he could finish.PLEASE TALK TO ME LIKE A NORMAL PERSON!She screamed at him the only way she knew how to with her mind, in big bold letters. She hoped he got the message.

He winced and inhaled sharply. He sat close to her on the bed before continuing.

"There's no need to shout." His voice sounded alien to her after listening to the robotic voice recorder he must have been playing earlier.

"It seems to be the only way I can get through to you. This may seem normal to you but it isn't. I'm not at all sure I want you reading my thoughts all the time, or being able to arouse me with images of us together anytime you want. I won't have it Dillon."

Her voice was clear and decisive as she laid out her wishes, however, being tied to Dillon's bed with chain and rope took something away from her harsh demands. She realized that she was in no position to make demands, but for crying out loud, some things were just private and her thoughts should be one of them.

"I aroused you with those images?" he asked.

Isabelle sighed lustily. Hadn't he been listening at all to what she said?

I heard you Miss High and Mighty. Keep your pants on. Oh wait, too late for that, isn't it?

Isabelle clenched her teeth together and conjured up images of Dillon being tortured in several different but painful ways. A couple that involved him losing some valuable parts.

He chuckled at her. Nothing in this whole world had ever infuriated her as much as that smug little chuckle that escaped from his lips. There was so much undisguised glee in that haughty sound that she found herself imagining even worse things for him to see.

"Where are we Dillon? Why did you kidnap me and keep me tied up? Why didn't you just tell me it was you, why the elaborate voice machine?" she asked, wanting desperately to change the subject and distract him from lingering in her brain.

"It won't work you know. I spent two years trying to stop feeling your every thought and emotion, trying to sleep through the night when your dreams would keep me up for hours. I wondered if you felt it too or if was just me. I tied you up and disguised myself because I wanted to test this link between us; I needed to see if you could feel it before you knew it was me. Now, you won't distract me from my goal any longer."

"What exactly is your goal?" She queried with a knot in her stomach, for she already knew his answer.

To make you mine always.

The thought was placed gently into her mind, but his intent was clear. He would have her and nothing was going to get in his way. It didn't matter that she was already married with a family; it didn't matter if she wanted it or not, she would belong to him, even if he had to keep her captive.

The last thought sent a shudder through her. While she had certainly fantasized about being held captive by a stunningly handsome man; what woman hadn't? The reality would be far different. She had no desire to give up her freedom even if the thought of not being with Dillon made her physically ill.

What about her children and her husband? They would be hurt beyond belief, at first they would look for her, hoping for a miracle, but eventually they would realize she wasn't coming back. And then what? She would miss out on everything important in her children's lives and that brought an achingly sharp pain deep inside her heart. Dillon had to understand that there had to be a better way to achieve his goal. She simply couldn't imagine going on without her children.

"Please don't." she whispered through a suddenly thick throat. Tears threatened to escape from her tightly shut eyes and all she could think was please, no, don't hurt my children.

"I would never do anything to hurt you or your family Isabelle." He sneered, suddenly too close to her for her comfort.

She drew in a shocked breath at the vehemence in his tone but didn't reply.

When you are ready to acknowledge this connection between us, you will come to me. Your conscience will be clear when you do, but not because I say so. You will leave your husband because you are unhappy with him and can never be happy with him now that you've experienced the magic between us. There will simply be no other choice for you now that you know. That is the woman I know, the one I feel in my heart and mind. The one I reach for at night.

She felt the familiar warmth seeping through her again at his tender thoughts and while she hated his arrogance she also knew he was right. She wouldn't be able to forget and ultimately would only hurt her husband more by staying. The thought made her sad for all that she would be giving up, but she, too, knew that it was inevitable that she would be with Dillon.

It didn't mean that she was ready to acknowledge it though and she didn't appreciate being forced into making a decision.

Quit being so stubborn woman. You are mine; fighting it is only wasting valuable time, time that I could use to kiss the hollow in your neck, or to nibble on your ear or to taste those swollen lips of yours.

Isabelle felt his thoughts as clearly as a caress, and her skin tingled at her neck and ears, and her lips pursed involuntarily in preparation.

Even your body knows I'm right. I guess I still have to convince your mind.

She refused to answer; instead she fought the wave of thoughts coming from him and tried desperately to think of something else. Gardening, yes that was a nice safe thought. Why, it was almost time to plant her vegetable garden and if she rented a nice roto-tiller this year instead of doing it herself, then she'd have a head start.

She began a mental list of the plants she wanted to put in when another image butted into her nice fantasy garden. The brief flash of her naked and covered in dirt and Dillon immediately stopped her from dreaming about her garden. Silently she seethed, was nothing sacred to this man?

Nope.

The response was almost cheerful and Isabelle sighed in disgust. Then she had a thought that put the smile back on her face. Dillon had said he thought this thing worked both ways. She instantly began to conjure images of Dillon in the throes of passion, while her mouth worked his cock. She smiled when she heard him suddenly begin to struggle to breathe. Then she stopped the images as quickly as they came, and smiled once more when he gasped in outrage.

You little minx. You did that on purpose, didn't you?

Why don't you just look and see if you think you know so much about me?, she thought back, smug now that she knew she could get to him as well.

We'll see about that Isabelle, oh yes, we shall see.

He rattled the chains surrounding her wrists and laughed at her sour expression. She forgot her reply as yet another picture entered her mind. This one was different; it was combined with his words, words that she could see and hear in his voice, almost as if he was whispering them in her ear.

Isabelle, my love, how I've dreamed of touching you again. I dream of seeing those pouty lips frowning at me or parted in ecstasy after I've brought you to orgasm. I dream about your legs wrapped around me as I drive my cock into your pussy. I dream about the taste of you on my lips after I've licked every inch of your pussy.

She sucked air sharply into her lungs at the images he provoked in her mind. She felt the answering clench of her pussy and knew he felt it too. Her nipples puckered as liquid heat coursed through her. He locked eyes with her as he asked his next question.

You like that my Belle? Do you like seeing what I want to do to you?

Yes.

Would you like to see more?

Yes.

I love seeing you tied up for me. You look so tempting spread out on my bed. Your pussy lips aren't quite open and there's a little moisture on your pubic hair. I can do anything I want to do to you because your legs are tied up so neatly there's no way you can fight me. Isn't that a nice picture? No? Well, I think so. I like watching your chest rise and fall as you fight to get air into your lungs. It makes your tits stand up and your nipples pucker into these tight little pebbles. Pebbles I want to lick, bite, and suck on.

Her hips arched up as his thoughts flooded her mind. The man was ruthless. She couldn't stop her reaction to his thoughts and he knew it. He wasn't above using it either.

No, I'm not above using it to get what I want Isabelle, and what I want is you. You, perched just above my cock with my hand entangled in your hair as I get ready to pull you onto me, you down on your knees servicing my cock, you bent over every piece of furniture I own just so I can remember taking you in every room of my house. Every time I look at the chair in the corner I will see your ass perched in the air and my cock disappearing inside you. Every time I glance at my couch in the living room I will see you splayed over it, your body completely exposed to me. Does that scare you? Knowing that no matter how much you protest I will have you every single way I have been dreaming about and more?

There was no way she could look away. The slideshow playing in her mind had her reeling; every image being burned into her subconscious was like the branding of a cow. A permanent, enduring mark she could never erase. She tried to mentally shake herself out of her stupor but he kept up his onslaught.

Want to know how much more Belle? I will own your pussy before this night is over, I will spend the night making you mine. Before, when I came to your house to have my way with you, I only wanted you for the simple reason that I lusted for you, but that is no longer the only reality. I find that simply having your body is not enough anymore. I need to possess all of you and I mean to do that tonight. Before this night is over you will yield to me. You will give yourself to me willingly and lovingly.

What was he saying? That he wanted her love? This was nuts, this wasn't supposed to happen. She was married, she thought stupidly. Like that mattered anymore. He was all that mattered and giving herself to him wouldn't be any kind of hardship. She was his already; it was only a matter of making it official.

Tonight it is official, we belong to each other. You are my mate in every way that matters.

His words resonated in her mind. She was reeling from everything he had communicated and still a little disbelieving that this was really happening.

Give herself willingly and lovingly? The words brought a poignant ache from deep within her soul. Once, she had promised herself to another, but that promise had been given before she knew what it had meant to truly belong to someone else. Now he was demanding that she promise herself to him. He had figured out a way to embed himself into her very existence and would not let go. And he wanted her to give her promise willingly and without reservation, without any hindrances or walls erected between.

She was a little startled at his insistence on that point. He was reading her mind for crying out loud! How could she maintain any walls with him lurking in her subconscious all the time? She couldn't.

Then an image of a father being trapped into marriage by a pregnant girlfriend, and who had professed love then had left filled her head and she suddenly understood. He was showing her his past and why he was asking for her willingness. He wanted her to give of herself willingly, otherwise it wouldn't mean anything.

Being forced to share a room because you happened to occupy the same space was not at all the same as inviting someone into your home and making them feel welcome. She understood that he wanted her but only if she gave of herself willingly, which was ironic, considering their beginning and her current state.

Yes I know.He mentally snapped at her.

She smiled back at him.

Think you could untie me now so I can give myself to you willingly?She queried sweetly, still unsure of her new "power".

I like your sass Belle, but, no, I'm not going to untie you just yet.

Why not?

Because I have some plans for you.

What kind of plans?

You'll see.

And she did. Visions of faces tilted in ecstasy and hearts merging into one blurred with the fevered thrashing of their limbs. Her face warmed at the images. As did other parts of her. Dillon felt it and finally released her arm from his grip as if he had been handling hot coals.

Isabelle smiled. He wasn't as immune to this as he pretended. She concentrated fiercely on some particularly hot images and almost laughed when he groaned.

You'll pay for that.

Pay for what?

Isabelle was starting to enjoy herself. That is, until the reality of her predicament came crashing back. It was amazing how easy it was for her to forget what was happening when Dillon was in the vicinity.

Dillon moved away from the bed and snapped on another light. Striding purposely towards the end of the bed, he scrutinized her from head to toe. Or toe to head as it were. Granted, she wasn't totally naked, the skimpy t-shirt covered some of her, but not enough. It wouldn't have mattered if she had been wearing winter snow gear, she had a feeling he would have seen through it. His eyes were stormy as they took her in. His gaze was that piercing.