Breaking that Innocent Facade...

"No?" The word rang out in the room. The chessboard stood abandoned with its pieces suspended in-game on the table, along with the two glasses of red wine, the file of papers, the application form, the red pen. His suit jacket was slung neatly over one chair; her anorak a jumble on the floor with her satchel. The air in the room, so recently dancing with the coy and playful interplay moments before, had now thickened with purpose. A dark focus emanated from him.

His lips crooked into a smile, as he stood towering in front of her. "Oh, is that how it is going to be then?" He chuckled, and then suddenly grabbed her by the back of the neck. Not so very hard, but firm enough to feel how unrelenting the grip was.

"You don't want it, is that it?" He murmured. "Is that the story you're telling yourself, when those feet took you up all of those steps to come here. At night-time. To my home." He ran his other thumb slowly along her cheek and pulled at her full lips, which parted involuntarily.

"I think you knew exactly what you were getting yourself into." He looked down at her through eyes that had turned stern, but were lit with a cold amusement. She trembled slightly under his gaze.

He sharply pivoted her around and threw her against the wall, pressing her face-first against the cold, smooth surface.

"Your outfit also says otherwise." He noted almost clinically, and ran a hand lightly up one of her taut legs, which were sheathed in stockings. "In fact, I believe your body may be betraying you." He chuckled again as his fingers dipped up under the arc of her skirt and skimmed over her crotch.

"Wet already." He breathed at her right ear and then buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent as he let his hand linger so close that she could feel the heat radiating up to meet hers.

She was blushing furiously at his discovery.

"Well, unfortunately for you, now that you're here that no doesn't mean very much at all." He rasped, his warm breath coiling around the nape of her neck.

"Your body is mine to do with as I like." He punctuated this with a rough grope of her full buttocks and then trailed his hand up along the side of her lithe body, fondling her small pert breasts through the layers of fabric. He pinched a nipple, drawing a gasp from her.

He pulled her hips away from the wall, his other hand still pinning her at neck. He pushed her down and forward so that her back was arched. Her rear felt so exposed and provocative even though they were still covered by her skirt and underwear.

"Yes... I think you know you are a little slut... That's what you want to be." He said more distantly from behind her, and she could feel his gaze from above, as he ran his hands over her body.

A scintillating tremor crept along her skin as his fingers once again unhurriedly inched up her inner thigh. She was so wet; she could feel her clit throbbing, betraying her, throbbing for his hands, his words, his will.

Again his fingers danced over the thin material of her underwear and she let out a gasp.

"Yes, you like that, don't you?" He murmured. "I don't think it's going to take long to turn you into my little whore." His fingers moved back and forward, lightly, but with purpose.

It was too much. She tried to fight it, to hold onto some shred of dignity, to resist, but she could not help but buck her hips to meet his delicious rhythm. A tingling was building and her breathing picked up, even as she tried to control herself. His fingers picked up pace and reached a sweet note of vibration so close to her clit, and she strained her whole body to meet him. A moan escaped her lips.

And suddenly he stopped.

"But, all in good time... I think you're beginning to learn just how much you are going to obey me."

With that she felt an incredibly hard smack to her left buttock. Immense pain seethed over her, rapidly dispersing into a warm cascade that almost brought her over the edge itself.

"Do not move an inch." She heard him move away and the noise of himself retrieving his glass of wine and drinking from it. Several minutes stretched on.

She was too terrified to move. Scared to break through the pause in her thoughts; scared to face what she was being confronted with about herself; scared to acknowledge that she had any power to do something; scared that she might prompt him to begin some new line of investigation, some new humiliation.

His steps announced his return behind her. A thick wet tongue slid across her cheek, saliva glistening and burning wetly in a trail. Then a sharp bite of his teeth nipping the tender flesh in the crook of her neck.

"Feel how hard breaking that innocent facade makes me." He leant against her and she could feel something she had never felt before but only imagined: a man's hardness pressing into her skirt, in between the curves of her buttocks. He inhaled heavily, and with his hand twisted in her long thick hair he turned her head to look down at her flushed face. "I don't believe that no man has ever had you. Look at you. You're a bitch in heat. You're going to be begging for my cock soon enough."

"No..." She whispered, a tear trailing down her cheek as she heard the false virtue in her utterance.

Suddenly the fabric of her underwear was torn aside and two fingers were ramming up her pussy painfully. "Yes... Such a horny little thing. Feel how fucking wet I've made you."

She whimpered.

"Oh, did you think this was about your pleasure? No, this is about what pleases me." He moved his fingers experimentally, seeming to savour the warmth and smooth folds within her. "So fucking tight." He said to himself, penetrating her deeper with his fingers, thrusting them in and out, twisting, probing.

Again his thick tongue pushed roughly along the side of her face as he pressed her to him. "You are here to serve me, please me. Your body is mine." He shoved a third finger into her pussy, moving them all sharply, painfully, forcefully. "And then perhaps, right at the end, when I've had my fill, I'll let you come."

Those words, that simple statement of complete control, drove her over the edge - despite herself, despite the pain, despite the unexpected fullness. She suddenly gasped and let out a loud squeal as her pussy clamped tightly over his fingers in a series of rapid pulses. Her whole body writhed. And then, succumbing to the flooding pleasure, her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto his arm.

He let her limply slide down onto the wooden floor, pulling his hands away from between her thighs and from her neck.

There was quiet, except for small shuddering moans as she panted and shivered on the floor, her pussy so warm and still pulsing, gushing. Her legs so weak.

The silence stretched for a moment. The musky smell of climax suffusing the air.

She blinked through her eyelashes at the floorboards, trying to pull herself together, to remember who she was. Saliva cooled on her face, wetness trickled out of her pussy, pain and pleasure intermingled in confusion.

She felt desecrated, violated, dirty... But more than that, underneath those rippling whips of panic which rode across her consciousness... Underneath those, she felt betrayed by her body: betrayed by the dark, secret yearning that glowed like hot embers stoked deep inside her, still unquenched.

Finally, out of the silence, he spoke.

"Coming without permission?" He spoke calmly, and once more that dark laughter cut through the air from high above her. "Hmm, what do you think I'm going to have to do about that?" Underneath the dry mirth there was an ominous thread to his voice.

She looked up at him fearfully over her shoulder, through her tangled hair. His brow was furrowed in disapproval. But seeing her wide eyes, a more contemplative look entered his eyes and he idly stroked her flank.

"Ah... the things I'm going to do to you..." he murmured. His right hand flexed.

"Get up. Back into the position I had you in before." He commanded, snapping his fingers as he straightened up. "Quickly now. Forehead against the wall; palms and forearms pressed flush."

She hurriedly scrambled to comply; her mind watched on in dismay.

"Good girl." He ran a hand down along her spine, and then pushed up the material of her skirt to expose the pale, smooth globes of her buttocks.

"You will count down from fifty when I begin."

...