Ch. I: Innocence Lost
by Whispersecret ©
Copyright 2000 by the author. All rights reserved.
Warning: This story contains explicit descriptions of "forced seduction" and rape. If you’re reading this to work up the courage to rape someone, find a psychiatrist. This is pure fiction. Despite what is depicted in this story, women do not enjoy being raped. If you’ve been raped and don’t relish the possibility of reliving the horror, don’t read on.
I wish to thank Wordmage and Greg Lee Hunt for the invaluable encouragement and expert advice they gave me while I was writing this. Thanks also to Gus, Weird Harold and Sprite for their precise editing.
* * * * *
Fiona Sheridan didn’t usually make a habit of lusting after her father’s business associates. According to her father, it was supposed to be the other way around.
"Always make the best use of your assets, Fiona," her father would always tell her. Right. Her assets. He meant her body. Contrary to the popular reed-thin look, Fiona possessed an abundance of lush curves, which usually drew the eye of male and female alike. If her father’s guests were occupied ogling her tits, they couldn’t properly concentrate on business. At least that was the theory. Oh, he never came right out and said he intended her to be a distraction, but whenever she was home while her father conducted business, she was required to be present.
Like tonight. Mr. Rockwell had come to stay for the weekend and talk business, and Fiona played hostess as she had since her mother had died two years ago. But something was different this time. Her father made a point of going over her wardrobe and earmarking certain outfits that she would wear for the duration of Mr. Rockwell’s stay. That was a little out of ordinary, even for her father.
Then again, Mr. Rockwell was not like the other businessmen her father usually invited over. Daddy’s usual colleagues were pot-bellied and balding, but Rockwell couldn’t be more than thirty-four or thirty-five. He seemed trim and fit, and had a full head of dark hair. He stood at about six feet three, and was handsome too, with a swarthy tan and deep-set eyes that made her think of the pirates of old.
The strange thing was, he didn’t seem to be here for business. She’d been watching him. Neither he nor her father had talked over one piece of paper, unless you counted the sports page of the Saturday newspaper. They’d gone riding, done some target shooting, toured the wine cellar—in fact, they’d done some prime male bonding.
Mr. Rockwell seemed to be watching her too. At odd times during the day, she felt like he was staring at her. When she turned to check, he made no attempt to hide the fact that he was admiring her. His lips would tilt just slightly and he would incline his head at her. She found that flattering, yet at the same time disconcerting.
Now, after dinner, her father and Mr. Rockwell played a friendly game of pool and Fiona sat at the wet bar, watching. She pretended to be interested in the game, but her attention was actually directed toward her father’s guest.
Rockwell leaned on his pool cue, waiting for his turn. He seemed at ease, concentrating on the game, so Fiona took the opportunity to admire his broad shoulders, wondering just how muscular he was under his shirt. When her eyes wandered up to his face, she was startled at the intensity with which he returned her gaze. For one heart-stopping moment, she felt like he was going to lunge across the pool table and devour her whole. A second later the look was gone as if it had never been there, but her heart was racing and she suddenly felt unreasonably hot. She turned around to get a cold soda from the fridge and to avoid looking at him again.
Fiona was used to men staring at her, but that look had been much more than friendly appreciation. Her breathless reaction frightened her. Still a virgin at nineteen, she wasn’t very familiar with potent sexual feeling. So far, the guys she’d dated had all been transparently out for her body and/or her money. Her father, Frank Sheridan, owned a multi-million dollar textile business that had been in her mother’s family for generations. She wasn’t about to gift her virginity on some immature, money-grubbing frat boy. When she made love for the first time, she wanted it to be special. Magical.
She sipped her soda, wishing she could go up to bed. Knowing her father wouldn’t like that, she fantasized about a romantic candlelit bedroom where her dream lover would woo her with skill and whispered words of love. Her eyes closed and she smiled a secret smile.
"Tired?" Rockwell’s deep voice startled her out of her reverie. He stood not two feet away. Her father was busy lining up his next shot.
"What?" She sat upright on the barstool. She must have sunk down during her daydream.
"You looked like you were falling asleep. Don’t stay up on my account."
Remarkably, her father agreed. "Absolutely. If you’re tired, baby, go to bed."
"All right." She edged away from Rockwell, smiling nervously. "Good night, Mr. Rockwell."
"Good night, Fiona." He paused and smiled at her, his hand wrapped around his pool cue. "Sleep well."
Fiona left the billiard room, feeling distinctly uneasy. Something about the way he had said good night gave her the shivers. She hurried up the majestic staircase and down the hall to her suite of rooms. After changing into a cool sleeveless nightgown and picking up her book from the nightstand, she snuggled into bed to read.
Fifteen minutes later, she was snoring softly, dead to the world.
* * *
At one-fifteen in the morning, Rockwell made his way down the west hallway, his arms laden with candles. He also bore a supple leather satchel on his shoulder. His assistant/body guard, Whitcomb, walked with him.
When Rockwell reached Fiona’s room, he turned to the big man next to him and spoke in a low voice. "No one disturbs me."
"Yes, sir."
"Bring Sheridan up here. She’ll probably need his reassurance. After that, make sure he stays in his room. The old man is to go nowhere, not even to take a piss, unless I give the order."
"Yes, sir."
Whitcomb nodded and left to follow orders.
Rockwell opened the door to Fiona’s room quietly. Sheridan had told him she was a heavy sleeper, but it didn’t hurt to be cautious. He wasn’t quite ready for her to wake up.
He eased the door shut behind him. The room was dark, lit only by the shafts of moonlight coming in from the windows. He padded about the room, placing candles in clusters on the furniture near the bed and then making the rounds again to light them. When he was done a flickering warm glow filled the room, illuminating the lovely figure of the young woman on the bed.
She lay in the center of the large canopy bed, her arms spread out across the pillows, as if she were making a snow angel. Her lush body was concealed beneath the bedcovers, and her luxurious, long black hair made a pool of silk on the pillow. Rockwell felt his cock twitch as he imagined what it was going to feel like when he gripped her hair in his fists.
Not yet, he told himself, but soon enough.
He attached his special restraints to each of the four bedposts. Each tough plastic casing held a mechanism that allowed him to control his captive’s range of movement by increasing or decreasing the amount of slack in the cable. He reached for the coverlet and drew it back carefully. She stirred, but didn’t waken. He smiled, not wanting her to know he was there just yet.
Tightening the belt on the robe he was wearing, he approached the bed. Christ, she’s beautiful, he thought. Full lips, creamy skin, bright green eyes fringed with dark sooty lashes. He rested his gaze appreciatively on the skimpy nightgown she wore. The garment was appealingly innocent, decorated with lace here and there, with tiny white buttons on the bodice. Beneath it, her nipples hardened from the sudden coolness of the air. Rockwell knelt on the bed. Working swiftly, he gently fit the pliable neoprene bracelets to her wrists and ankles. Fiona barely even twitched.
Then, unable to hold himself back any longer, he finally reached out and brushed his thumbs over her taut nipples. He cupped her full breasts in his palms, squeezing slightly and continuing to rub the stiff peaks. When she moaned softly in her sleep, his hands spasmodically closed more tightly on her tits.
"Mmmm..." She shifted her body and licked her lips.
"Yes, Fiona," he murmured. He leaned over and slid his hands along her arms until he grasped her wrists lightly. His face was a mere inch from hers.
"Wake up, Fiona, wake up for me."
Her brow wrinkled slightly as she opened her eyes slowly, focusing on him above her.
"What the--?"
Fiona couldn’t believe her eyes. It was Rockwell, clad only in a robe. She tried to sit up, but discovered with alarm she was bound to the bed. The bastard had tied her up!
She strained uselessly against her bonds and screamed. "HELP! Help me, somebody! Daddy!"
Rockwell clamped a hand over her mouth, effectively silencing her. "Shhhhh," he said soothingly. "No one is going to save you, Fiona."
Fiona didn’t believe him. She glared at him, waiting anxiously for someone to respond to her scream. No one came. Minutes passed, and still no one came.
"You see? No need to scream." He removed his hand from her mouth and smiled indulgently at her.
"What the hell is going on?" she spat.
Unbelievably he lowered his head and nuzzled her neck, answering, "It’s called a hostile takeover, my dear." He nipped her earlobe sharply with his teeth, making her gasp. "Your father and I made a little business deal."
Rockwell shifted his weight and put his hands back on her breasts, kneading them through the thin material of her nightgown.
"Take your hands off me!" she gasped in outrage. "Conducting business with my father doesn’t entitle you to feel me up!"
"This time it does, Fiona. God, you taste good," he said, his breath hot against her neck. "Like strawberries." She strained in an effort to get away from his mouth, which made him chuckle.
"What are you talking about? You’re insane."
"I’m taking over your father’s business, Fiona."
"What? That’s impossible."
"You were part of the deal."
"You’re lying! My father would never do that."
He rolled her nipples between his fingers as he chuckled again. "You don’t know your father very well. I assure you he has. In the fine print of an addendum to the contract he signed tonight, he gave you to me."
"I don’t believe you, you bastard. He doesn’t know you’re in my room. You’ve drugged him or something. Daddy! DADDY!"
Fiona thrashed about on the bed, shrieking at the top of her lungs. Rockwell stood up, shaking his head, and opened the bedroom door. When she turned her head and saw her father standing there in the doorway, she went still. Suddenly her blood felt icy in her veins. Her hands and feet felt frozen. Fiona’s brain refused to function. This cannot be happening.
"Daddy?"
"Do what he says, Fiona," her father said coldly.
"Daddy? No! What do you mean? You can’t be serious!" It was finally beginning to dawn on her that what Rockwell said was true; there was no other explanation for her father’s behavior.
Rockwell shook his head again and firmly ushered her father back into the hallway. Fiona could hear them talking in low voices, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying.
Shutting the door behind him, Rockwell came back in. The dark corporate pirate bore down on her, a blaze of hunger in his slate gray eyes.
"Your father wrangled an extra million out of me by promising you’re a virgin. That was an unexpected bonus, and I was glad to pay the extra money."
He tossed the covers completely off her with a flick of his wrist and the cooler air of the room hit her bare legs. Even so, she felt hot -- hot from the sweep of his eyes along her body.
"If you knew me, Fiona, you’d know that there are two things at which I excel. Two things that drive me. Business and sex. With this sweet little deal I get to satisfy two cravings at once."
He climbed onto the bed next to her and laid his hand on her belly, crunching up the material of her nightgown in his fist and pulling it up until her skimpy panties were showing. "I won’t hurt you, but I will have you, Fiona. Nothing you say will stop me. Nothing you do will change the fact that I’m going to fuck you. Very soon...and very well."
Her mouth wouldn’t work. She tried to talk, but nothing came out. She could only watch silently as he slipped his hand under the elastic of her panties and pushed a long tapered finger through the curly mound of her hair. When the finger reached the moistness that had begun to gather between her pussy lips, she shuddered as pleasure suffused her body, despite the fact that she was scared to death.
Rockwell smiled as he felt her wetness. "Good, this will make it easier for you."
He bent down then and took her nipple in his mouth right through the fabric of her gown. As he sucked on it, his finger continued to probe her pussy, massaging her own creamy arousal into her skin. He pushed his finger farther inside her to verify her virginity, satisfied when he felt a barrier to his intrusion.
Fiona’s breath quickened and she realized that she was enjoying his touch. That made her feel dirty and she bucked against him, taking him by surprise.
"Damn you! Get off me. You can’t do this!"
"Yes, I can, Fiona." He smiled evilly. "I will."
"You bastard, when this is over I’ll drag you to court. You’re going to spend the rest of your life in jail! What’s wrong with you? You must be some kind of sick man to have to buy women to fuck. Can’t you get women on your own--What are you doing?" Her eyes widened and she gasped.
She looked up at him as he straddled her body. He grabbed some pillows and shoved them behind her head. Through the gap in his robe, she could now see his hard cock. This close to her face, it seemed already impossibly large, but she hadn’t really seen a cock this close before.
"I’m going to shut you up."
"You mean gag me? W-with your belt?" she stammered, her eyes wide.
He grinned and removed said belt and tossed it aside. "No. Not with the belt." He moved up until his cock was inches from her face.
"Y-y-you can’t. You can’t! I’ve never done that before." She strained uselessly against her bonds.
"There’s a first time for everything," he assured her. "I’m sure I won’t be disappointed."
He took his cock in his hand and thumbed the head as he pressed it to her tightly closed lips. Stroking her lips with the silken head, back and forth, a creamy drop of pre-cum oozed out. He smoothed it over her tightly closed lips, while she stared up at him mute, defiance blazing in her eyes.
"Open for me, Fiona. Open your mouth."
She narrowed her eyes and gave a curt shake of her head.
Out of patience, he took a handful of hair with the other hand and shook her head roughly. "Open!" he bellowed.
Shocked by the vehemence in his voice and the sharp pain in her scalp, she opened her mouth. The moment she did, he pushed inside, engorged and pulsing.
With a deep breath, Rockwell recovered his control. Looking into her frightened eyes, he stroked slowly in and out only an inch or so, to accustom her to having a hot cock in her mouth. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and filled with fear, so he spoke to her soothingly.
"That’s it, sweet thing," he groaned. "Lick it, use your tongue..."
She couldn’t. All she could do was look up at him, in a daze because a man was fucking her mouth and she was helpless to do anything about it.
Rockwell braced himself on the headboard with his hands and rocked his hips back and forth, going deeper and deeper with each stroke. She heard his long and controlled breaths. She heard the wet sounds as his cock slid in and out of her mouth. And, oh, God, she heard the tiny, whimpering sounds coming from her own throat.
"Relax, Fiona," he said. "I’m going deeper. Ahhhh, God, that’s incredible..."
Fiona clenched her hands into fists as she felt him push his thickened rod to the back of her throat, gagging her just as he promised. His eyes were closed now. She could see a sheen of sweat on his face.
"Christ."
Rockwell sucked in a ragged breath through his gritted teeth. He just kept picturing that wide-eyed look of alarm on her face when she realized he was going to push his cock into her mouth. That image, along with the feeling of her innocent lips wrapped around his rock hard shaft, drove him closer and closer to climax...seven, maybe eight strokes and he couldn’t help himself; he gave a hoarse shout when his cum erupted from him in hot, vital spurts. He gripped the headboard as the profound pleasure radiated from his cock and balls and washed over his entire body.
When at last he looked down at her, he saw his cum leaking out of the corners of her mouth, and his flat abdomen bore spatters of it. Smiling down at her, he smoothed her brow gently.
"Very good, Fiona. Marvelous, in fact. I’m going to pull out now, but I want your mouth open."
As he withdrew from between her glistening lips, he watched her with narrowed eyes, to see if she would obey.
Lifting her chin in rebellion, she spat his cum at him, spraying his stomach with it. Her eyes blazed in silent defiance. Rockwell wanted to smile; he rather appreciated her spirit. However, it wouldn’t do to let her see that, so he suppressed his smile and sighed instead.
"Open your mouth," he repeated.
She just stared at him. Shaking his head, he found a nipple and pinched it sharply. She cried out, and then finally obeyed, glaring at him. With his hand, he milked some more cum out of his cock and let it dribble onto her tongue.
"Swallow it, Fiona."
He watched her throat closely as she reluctantly complied. "That’s it."
He rose on his knees and let out some slack in her restraints. Turning away, Fiona wiped her face on the pillowcase as he stretched out on his side next to her, one knee bent. His cock, still heavy with blood, lay on his thigh.
"Come and lick me clean. I’ve loosened your bonds." He gestured negligently at his flat stomach, spotted white with his spunk. "You’d do well to obey. You really haven’t any choice, and you won’t like what happens if you decide to rebel. I do find it enjoyable to take a struggling woman, but it doesn’t have to be that way. Come now. Do it. Lick the cum off my stomach."
Her eyes full of loathing, she bent over him and lapped at the droplets on his skin. He watched her pink tongue dart out to take up the thick splatters of cum and felt himself getting hard again.
Fiona shuddered with a mixture of revulsion and excitement as Rockwell leaned forward and grasped the back of her neck. He pulled her up to him and kissed her, pushing his tongue into her mouth. She could still taste the lingering pungency of his cum.
With a low chuckle, he rose off the bed, grabbed his satchel, and disappeared into her bathroom. She heard the tap running. While he was gone, she took the opportunity to check her restraints. There was enough slack now that she could examine them closely. Frowning, she flicked the switch back and forth, succeeding only in loosening and tightening one side. She couldn’t find anyway to free herself.
Rockwell’s low laugh of amusement startled her.
"You can’t open them. I have the only key. You’re mine until I let you free."
He carried a bowl of steaming water, several towels, and a can of something tucked under his arm. After setting these things down, he adjusted her wrist restraints so her arms were again outstretched and then removed her ankle restraints completely. She immediately clamped her legs together tightly, causing him to frown.
"Lay on your back and spread your legs," he ordered as he finally shed his robe. His voice was soft, but it was clearly a command, not a request.
She watched as he then pulled something from a previously unseen satchel. When he flicked it open with a practiced flip, she realized it was an old-fashioned razor, the kind with a wicked looking straight blade. Her heart began to pound in fear.
"Wh-what are you going to do?"
His face held no hint of what was to come, and Fiona was too terrified to even imagine. Quaking with fear, she parted her legs obediently while he set the bowl and towel on the night stand.
As he leaned over her, she felt his fingers comb through the dark triangle of hair on her mound, tugging gently.
"I prefer bare pussies, Fiona, so I’m going to shave you. I’m quite good at it." He looked at her a moment and swore, "Damn nightgown."
With a yank on the hem, he pulled her gown taut and swept the razor upward, slicing the material neatly up the middle. Two more cuts at the shoulders and she was essentially nude. She closed her eyes to shut out the naked lust she saw on his face.
"Much better."
He laid some towels under her bottom and then took a steaming washcloth from the bowl. She gasped when he covered her pubic area with the hot towel. The heat felt sinfully good but it did little to diminish her fear, especially when he turned his back on her and sharpened the razor on a flat stone and then on a strop. The repetitive scraping slap made Fiona cringe.
When he removed the towel, he dispensed some shaving gel into his hand and spread it over her mound, anywhere she had hair.
"Don’t worry, Fiona. I’m very skilled with a blade. If you keep still, you won’t be hurt."
He took a few slow deep breaths, and then at last, with a serene look on his face, he proceeded to draw the blade over her skin.
Fiona tried to do as he said, but when the cold, sharp steel touched her pussy lips, she wanted desperately to flinch. She was frightened out of her wits, and yet...it excited her. As he scraped the razor over her soft folds and secret crevices, she didn’t even breathe, exhaling only when he rinsed the blade in the warm water. Sometimes he used his other hand to pull at her skin to make it taut. Through it all she could feel a wanton pulsing between her legs.
"You’re getting wet," he observed with a smile.
Fiona felt her face burn with shame. Rockwell aroused her more than she’d ever been aroused before, and the underlying fear she felt from his dominance and control only added to it.
He nudged her thigh impatiently. "Wider."
She opened her legs even more. Each time the razor touched her she wanted to shrink away from keen edge, but at the same time a naughty thrill raced through her. Fiona couldn’t understand why her body was reacting like this. What was wrong with her that a man who was forcing her to be his sexual plaything could excite her? She had no answer.
When he laid the razor down and dipped a clean washcloth into the hot water, Fiona released the breath she’d been holding in an explosive burst. She was finally able to relax as he bathed her, rinsing away all the gel and hair. She felt enormously relieved that he was finished, but apprehensive about what was to come.
After he cleared away the shaving implements, Rockwell examined his handiwork. Fiona now had a bare pussy, all silk and softness. Her pouting pink flesh glistened, free of the curling hair that had graced her mound a short while before.
Suddenly he was overwhelmed by a hunger for her sweetness; the need to feel her satiny pussy lips with his tongue consumed him. More than anything he wanted to feel her buck against his face as he licked her, teased her, sucked the intoxicating syrup directly from her virginal opening.
He made a low sound deep in his throat as he lunged forward and buried his face between her thighs. Fiona flinched in surprise. He had his hands on the backs of her knees, pushing up and back, keeping her legs spread. His tongue, hot and slick, slurped at her, delving between the folds of her lips, edging around her sensitive clit.
Fiona felt him circle her swollen entrance with his lips. She’d never let anyone get this close to her pussy and was shocked at the intense pleasure suffusing her body as he gorged himself on her. She felt her control slipping away as her hips moved off the bed toward his glorious sucking mouth. With each lick, each loud slurp, she felt hotter and more desperate for release. She had played with herself many times before; she knew what an orgasm felt like, but this was far more intense than anything she’d ever achieved with her own fingers. Rockwell was driving her into a frenzy. All she could think about was grinding her pussy against his face in a wordless demand for a climax only he could give her. Her whole world centered around his tongue and lips and what they were doing to her. She didn’t like the harsh guttural sounds she was making, but at this point she didn’t care. She was going to cum. Oh, God, was she going to cum!
Rockwell knew when she was close to climaxing; he’d been gauging the increasingly urgent undulations of her hips. Every time her pussy pulsed against his chin, his cock throbbed in eager response. He thrilled to every strangled whimper she struggled to suppress. When she finally approached the peak of excitement, he stopped, leaving her teetering on the edge of a violent, all-encompassing orgasm. She twisted against her bonds in panting frustration, but he only smirked at her, his face glazed from her streaming juices.
"Goddamn you, you sick fuck!" she cried.
"You want me, don’t you, Fiona?" He looked at her vulva, marvelously swollen from the onslaught of his mouth. He touched a fingertip to the pouty opening and laughed when her pussy convulsed, almost pulling at his finger.
"No!" she said through gritted teeth. "You’re making me do this!"
Rockwell laughed again. Despite the fact that her snatch was dripping, she was denying her own obvious pleasure. Very well, he thrived on challenge. He teased her even more by drawing his finger around the outer edges of those baby-soft lips, amused by the pulsing spasms this caused.
"You’re going to ask me to fuck you..." He placed a hand behind her knee, raised one of her legs up, and rubbed her clit with the fleshy pad of his finger.
"No!" Fiona panted, her body tense and unmoving except for the reflexive twitches of her steaming pussy.
"Yes." He moved up the bed until his knees hugged her flanks. Then he leaned forward and slicked up the underside of his cock and with her juice. "You’ll beg me to take your virginity..."
"No! Stop it!" Fiona gasped for breath, sweat trickling down her temples into her hair. She was biting her lip and she’d turned her head aside.
"...beg me to pound you senseless..."
"No, no, please..." she sobbed as he slid his cock against her sensitive clit.
"...to give you the orgasm you so desperately want."
As he stroked her slowly with the hot length of his shaft, he sucked in a breath, fighting his own urge to cum. What a release it would be to shoot his load over her stomach and breasts, to watch it land in steaming spurts on her skin.
No. He would deny himself until later.
With an iron will, he lifted her other leg up and concentrated on driving her to desperation instead.
"Feel that, Fiona," he said, "my thick cock sliding against you."
She let out a whimper when he pushed his hips in a rapid series of thrusts. The friction against her sultry wet lips was driving her mad.
"Think how it would feel to have it inside you, filling you. It would feel so good...so...fucking ...good. All you have to do is say the word. Just tell me you want it."
She stubbornly said nothing, although her breath came in quick pants and her hands were clenched into fists.
She needed more convincing and Rockwell was happy to oblige. He released her leg and moved over her straining body. With a smooth pivot of his hips, he pushed just the head of his prick into her. Balancing his weight on his arms, the only part of his body that touched her was his cock.
She jerked her gaze to his. "Oh, God, no! No, please don’t!"
He saw such terror in her eyes, that he gave in to an irrational urge to comfort her. "That’s only the head, Fiona," he said softly. "Just relax, and it will feel good. I promise."
She closed her eyes and made an incoherent noise in response.
Since his words had no affect, he decided to show her. Rocking his hips, he entered her again and again, letting only the head go inside. Her pussy was so tight his cock head made a loud sucking sound as it went in and out. Watching her face carefully, he altered his speed, sometimes pulling out and sliding the length of his cock against her twitching clit, only to slip inside again just that bare inch to tease her some more. Eventually he felt the unconscious shifting of her hips in a rhythm that augmented his movements. This grudging response told him she was letting go of her inhibitions, going beyond her maidenly fears, and getting lost in the pleasure.
"I can tell you like it, but I want you to tell me." He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Tell me you like the feel of my cock."
She kept her eyes closed, her mouth shut.
"You want it deep inside you, don’t you, Fiona? This teasing is driving you crazy." Again, he moved his hips quickly, making her pant and thrash. "The only way to get satisfaction from me is to say it. The only way I’ll let you cum is if you beg me to fuck you."
His cock head throbbed as he nudged it in and out of her tight entrance. As she edged closer and closer to a climax, he pushed her more urgently. Tiny beads of perspiration formed on her forehead and she was panting harshly, but continued to keep her silence. He was sweating himself from the effort it took to withhold his own explosion.
When she had built up to climax again, he again denied her the release. With a quick jerk of his hips he withdrew, leaving her swollen pussy aching and empty.
"No, no please! PLEASE!" She arched off the bed toward him. He moved away, but kept her primed with soothing strokes of his finger on her clit.
"Please, what?" He pinched his cock just below the head, squeezing it tightly to postpone his own climax. He wasn’t immune to the teasing himself. The glossy, buttery feel of her pussy lips against and around the tip of his prick was torture. His cock pulsed hotly in his fist, but he did not cum.
"Oh, God!" she gasped hoarsely, struggling with her pride. Fiona hated needing something from him, but she wanted to cum so badly now that she didn’t care. Her pussy ached and throbbed with urgency. She could barely breathe for the harsh need that clutched her.
"Fuck me, you sick bastard." Her voice was so soft he barely heard it.
His gray eyes bored into her green ones as he shook his head at her. "You can do better than that."
She gasped as he shifted down and licked her between her legs again. The feeling of his tongue on her was intense, as if every nerve in her body was focused in her erect clit. In no time at all he brought her back up to the edge and let her hang. After the urgency receded, he did it again. And again. Until she couldn’t think anymore, and her entire being was one desperate, quivering mass of need.
"God, Rockwell, fuck me! Please, please fuck me!"
He rubbed his soft tongue against her aching clit, making her jump.
"Tell me more," he growled against her thigh.
"PLEASE! Please shove it in me! I need your cock--please give it to me!"
He sucked one of her pussy lips gently and pushed a finger in her juicy twat. She couldn’t stop her body from bucking up against him. "More," he coaxed.
"Oh, fuck! I need your hot cock in my pussy, Rockwell. I need it. Please, please fuck me hard. I’m begging you, please!"
She panted as he slid up and dipped his tongue into her belly button.
"Oh, yes! YES! Stuff it in me!" she gasped, her breasts heaving.
He moved up even farther, sucked hard on a nipple. She almost cried.
"Fuck me now! Fuck me hard!" Fiona urged him with her legs, wrapping them around his waist.
With a savage smile of victory, Rockwell positioned himself above her, nestled his cock at her entrance...and pushed.
She was so slick with sweet fluid that if she hadn’t been a virgin, he might have slipped right in. As it was, her passage was very, very snug. He was glad because he wanted this to be excruciatingly slow; he wanted to feel her maidenhead tear under the onslaught of his rigid cock.
"Oh, God," she whimpered.
As soon as he started pushing inside her, Fiona wasn’t sure she wanted this after all. His throbbing thickness just kept coming, deeper and deeper until he butted up against the supple, virginal barrier--not hard enough to rip it, but enough to test its resiliency. She writhed under his body, trying to scoot away from the steady, painful pressure of his invasion. She’d never had anything in there thicker than a finger.
"N-n-n-no...," she panted. "You’re hurting me—" She whined as he pushed again.
"Damn it." He stopped, breathing hard. Wedged a couple of inches inside her, his cock pulsed a harsh demand; he ignored it. "Jesus Fucking Christ, you’re tight. Relax and it won’t hurt so damn much."
Reaching down, he fingered her clit, bringing her up again toward a climax. Patiently he aroused her again, using just the right amount of pressure, slicking up the button with her juices, and when she was ready, this time, he let her cum.
With a keening cry, she strained against her bonds, stiffening beneath him as the orgasm crashed through her body. Her vice-like cunt convulsed around him, squeezing him mercilessly. Surprisingly she even called out his name. While she was in the throes of her orgasmic spasms, he bore down on her again with inexorable pressure. This time he didn’t stop when he felt the vigilant resistance of her virginity; he reveled in the feeling of her maidenhead ripping away from the snug walls, pushing inward deeper and deeper. He was obsessed with a relentless, single-minded need to be buried inside her.
"Yesss," he hissed. At last, his balls nestled against her anus as he ground himself against her with a rumbling moan of pleasure.
Rockwell began to move--slow, deep strokes, rhythmic and penetrating. She was incredibly tight, but he held back. He knew the longer he forced himself to wait, the more intense his climax would be.
He looked down at Fiona. The more he moved, the more her face seemed to relax, though she seemed to still be fighting the building pleasure. When her legs stole around his hips and she rocked upward against him, he knew she was beyond the pain.
"It feels good, doesn’t it, Fiona? Eight inches of rock hard meat inside you. Can you feel every inch of it fill you up as I push into you?" He gradually increased the tempo of his strokes. The friction of their fucking was almost electric. When she let out a gasping cry, he moved faster.
"Cum, Fiona. I want you to cum again for me." He thrust into her in earnest now, his hips pumping like a well-oiled machine. His sweat dripped onto her jiggling breasts. From the corner of his eye he could see her fists opening and closing. Her panting cries spurred him on.
"Almost there..." he grunted into her neck. "I’m going to cum inside you, Fiona—"
At his words, her body went rigid for one moment. Then she bucked up against him, collapsing into wracking shudders as her second orgasm overtook her. He exulted in the low, wrenching climactic sounds she made. When her cunt clenched him in tight, undulate, repetitive grips, his head dropped forward and he came.
With a guttural cry, he exploded inside her. His cock convulsed as his spunk erupted from him in powerful, prolonged spurts. Every muscle in his body tensed. He pictured the thick white bursts gushing from the head of his cock, and suddenly he had to see it for himself. He pulled out and jerked on the shaft so that he could watch. As if in slow motion, a long arc of his cum jetted out and splattered her stomach. Again and again, the creamy essence landed upon her until she glistened with it, the drops shiny and separate like liquid pearls.
Looking at the turgid organ in his hand, he saw that it had been christened with her virginal blood. His fingers and palm were streaked with it. The sight of that crimson stain on his skin filled him with satisfaction.
"Christ, Fiona, you’re a great fuck." He reached out and squeezed her breast, smiling when she gasped and her cunt spasmed. "And it’s only going to get better."
Fiona fought tears of shame as she realized that he wasn’t going to be satisfied with taking her virginity. Rockwell had an agenda. She had no idea what it was, but she did know her ordeal was far from over.
To Be Continued...