Exotic Destination

She became angry with him, playing her, causing her to feel good like this when she just wanted to hate him. But madder with herself and her body, betraying her with its amorous reaction to his physical manipulation, no matter how hard she tried to resist. But she could not speak her anger at him or herself, because she was also afraid. Afraid that he would get even more angry and that he would stop the amazing sensations coursing through her body.

Silently, he dropped his mouth down to the luscious swollen nipples and strummed softly with his tongue. Circling them with his tongue as he sucked half the firm orb into his mouth, chewing gently on the firm flesh.

Fireworks erupted in her muddled brain as a flash of light and thunder reverberated through the room. It was exquisite and she wanted more. A deepfelt groan vibrating from her throat, her lips sealed to prevent its escape.

She couldn't reconcile this gentle sensual side with the cruel sadistic beast that had tormented body and breasts just minutes earlier. Seething about the way he drew physical pleasure unwillingly from her breasts with every flick of his tongue and every kiss of his lips. Frustration morphing with arousal in her inexperienced body. Hating him but hating herself even more for her weakness.

Like the storm outside, the emotional turmoil of her aroused hormones raged against her need to resist him, not to respond to him, to be angry with him, to be alone. He was holding her hands so tightly that she couldn't move. Couldn't resist. But it felt so good. And he had warned her before that she shouldn't say no, couldn't say no. So, she lay there mute and let him have his way, again. Playing her body like an instrument, with him the consummate musician.

He slipped his free hand down to stroke her hairless mound in small circles, his fingers trailing over her skin, but not touching her womanhood. She had waxed for him before she left for the trip, like he had told her to. Accepting the pain, because he said it was attractive, it was what he liked. Like she had accepted the pain in her breasts for him. The only difference was the intensity. Waxing was sore, but her breast torture had been excruciating.

Now he was nibbling on the razor-sharp nipples and sucking the rings onto his tongue, setting off more fireworks. Trailing his fingernails up and down her inner thighs, to slide along the skin in her crotch, just beside her vulva, but not touching, just teasing, tickling, scratching. Flashes of pain and pleasure, feeling wetness oozing from inside her.

She instinctively tried to thrust towards those magical fingers, wanting them to touch her core, but he wouldn't let her and continued to taunt the skin of her inner thighs. Realising what she had done made her flush in shame and frustration, a wanton slut performing for this manipulative man, even when he made her feel so uncomfortable.

"Please. . ." She moaned, impassioned, but not really knowing what she was pleading for. Whether she wanted him to stop, or whether to satisfy her mounting desire.

This was not the fumbling experiments of the few schoolboys that had felt her up before he had started grooming her. He knew what he was doing and timed every move to perfection, ramping the raging hormones of this confused young girl. Experienced in the sexual control of many women, he anticipated her response even before she felt it and used that to singular advantage.

Eventually, he dragged his thumb nail up over her puckered labia towards the protruding clit, sending shockwaves up through her gut and into her throat, so intense that she could hardly breath.

Her anticipation built as he got closer, but so did her frustration at herself and him, because she didn't want him to touch her there, let alone feel good about it. But what her mind and heart didn't want, her sex craved.

And then his thumb made its first contact with her clit. Every muscle in her body tensed, back arching, toes curling, hands fisting, neck spasming. Tears of multiple emotions streamed down her cheeks, wanting to hate the feeling so badly, yet her body reacting so much. Her knees pulled up, widening to thrust her pelvis up into his merciless hand. Seeing her response, he pushed her knees further apart with his elbow, stroking her clit vigorously to make her back arch even more.

He glided his thumb down between her parting labia finding her rubbery slickness, sending more shockwaves and fireworks through her sensitised body and a fervent mewling from her mouth.

Knowing the time was right, he slid his thumb into her sopping quim as another crack of thunder shook the bed. She bucked her hips to meet it, driving it deeper, all thoughts of being alone taken from her with the penetration. His tongue was still circling alternating nipples, licking between them and then biting just hard enough to release the endorphins that would magnify her response.

Realising she was putty in his hands, he no longer had to hold her to have his way. Wanting to taste the sweet nectar between her legs, he kissed down her lean tummy to her pussy. Licking and probing her glistening vulva, he sent more shivers up her spine, while slowly plunging his thumb in and out of her blossoming opening.

She looked down horrified at him sucking her sex, dismayed at the feeling of shame, thoughts of how dirty, filthy, disgusting it was for him to be licking down there. But overwhelmed by the sublime feelings emanating from her loins, sending shivers all over her body and lightening through her soul uniting with the storm outside.

Timing it just right he flicked his tongue and nibbled on the little pleasure nub protruding proudly at the top of her slit. He then sucked the entire mound into his mouth, creating a whirlwind of pleasure in her loins, watching her face contort in ecstasy, eyes closed as she shook her head from side to side.

"Oooooh myyyyy god!" She had never experienced anything like it in her life. It was not like this when she touched herself, when the schoolboys touched her, even with the vibrator he'd made her use. The combination of knowledge, control and sensuality overwhelmed her senses. Gone was any thought of resistance or being by herself. She abandoned herself to the moment and the moment took her. Even when he bit her clit, the jolt of pain combining with her ardour to make the sensations more extreme, her feel more alive.

Up and up to a plateau near the gods, where her being exploded into a thousand shards of light with the lightening outside. He used that moment to thrust his juice slicked index finger into her anus while continuing to pummel her vaginal passage with his thumb, extracting even more pleasure from her writhing body. She again felt horrified by how unnatural, how dirty, how revolting it was to have his finger up her bottom, but yet how good the sensation of fullness felt.

She never imagined a man not only inserting a finger in her sex but in her ass, so his finger pushed past her sphincter before she had a chance to try and keep it out. It was instinct that made her tighten herself hard on his finger once it was already inside, painfully gripping and holding him in, rather than forcing him out. Feeling her pointless resistance delighted him, so he just kept firm pressure against her holes until she tired of clenching her muscles. As she released, he shoved his finger in even deeper, invading her youthful innocence and her self-esteem.

When he rubbed thumb and finger together as he thrust, squeezing the thin membrane together between her two orifices, it felt like he was touching the depths of her soul. So filthy and disgusting, yet a physical sensation she didn't know that she could ever experience, nor that another person could give her.

He'd knelt back up to watch her eyes roll and her body lose control, strumming her sensitive clit with the other hand, her muscles involuntarily pulsing, trembling and clenching on his invading digits. Her body lost all control to his ministration, becoming multi-orgasmic for the first time in her life at the hands of the experienced older man.

Her brain melted and all she experienced was delicious light and joy, floating on a cloud in heaven. All thoughts of the torment and pain that he had caused, were washed from her mind, as she drifted in the sea of pleasure that he had created.

Still saying nothing, he covered her with a thin blanket, letting her slip into sleep, the experiences and emotions of the day overwhelming her exhausted body. Stroking her hair, he stayed beside her, holding her, secure against the storm outside and the rage within, at least for the moment.

Later he sat in an armchair, watching and waiting. Thinking and considering his next move. She had proven to be resilient beyond her years, probably due to the struggles she had endured with a distant mother and a lost father. She seemed to be so needy and dependent, willing to endure so much in the hope of earning his affection and attention.

He himself knew the psychology of dependence and abandonment, having spent many sessions in therapy. But that did not give him empathy for his naked charge, but rather a predatory hunger to prey on her vulnerability, in order to satisfy his own cravings.

He rationalised to himself that he was not evil, because he also wanted to protect and nurture. It was just when 'the desire' arose, flooding his senses, that he needed more. He had come to think of it as 'the desire', in order to compartmentalise his actions and disassociate from the pain he caused. Only wanting her to submit and prove her dedication, her love. Prove herself worthy. Taking what ever he demanded, without question. Seeing how far he could push, before she broke.

And in exchange, he would care for her, protect her, look after her, unconditionally. All while transforming her into the elegant beauty she was destined to be; the hair, the makeup and the wardrobe of a sophisticated young woman. Giving her pleasure in exchange for her suffering, like with this last orgasm, to ensure that the bonds were that much stronger, her need to bring out the caring side forcing her to suffer the cruelty for him.

All while knowing that she had the baby face, dreams and immaturity of a teenage girl, that he could manipulate and control for his own nefarious intent. Other men might be bored with such immaturity and inexperience, but instead he delighted in his complete dominance, made easier by her lack of the knowledge about how to possibly resist.

The next time and every time thereafter, she would have to demonstrate her subjugation to his will. A broken bird that he would strengthen and heal, just to break another wing so she could not fly alone, without him. The sense of power, the affirmation he obtained from her submission, was greater and more satisfying than from any other woman he'd known before.

And now here she was, an innocent canvass in the rough, unadulterated, unopinionated, and unaffected by all the experiences and attitude of older women. They'd been more difficult to mould, to control. Unwilling to suffer as much for him, for his pleasure. Hurting, not because it meant anything, but because he wanted it. As she had surrendered her breasts to him, to use and abuse how he saw fit, regardless of her immediate pain or desires.

He smiled in satisfaction as he watched her sleep, knowing that this was going just the way he'd intended. She had no idea what the next few days would bring, nor that they were going to be earthshattering in terms of the impact they would have on the rest of her life.

She'd shivered and shaken to troublesome dreams in the hour that he watched her, wondering if they had been caused by him or other challenges of her life. Night had fallen and the storm had subsided by the time he quietly left the room, letting her continue sleeping peacefully and rejuvenate so she could be ready for the adventures of the following day.

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Chapter 10 - Breaking boundaries

The sun was already up when she slowly surfaced the next morning, eyes blinking open and darting uncertainly around the room. It had pretty décor, beach cottage chic with white-washed cupboards, a white dressing table, blue stripped curtains, light ash wooden floors and a king size bed with soft pale blue bed linen. All the fittings looked like they were expensive to her inexperienced eye, but it all felt comforting and relaxing.

She had woken briefly during the night and seen that she was alone, but the fatigue and trauma of the day had caused her to drift back into a deep slumber without moving. He on the other hand, had slept peacefully, risen early, made coffee and gone back into her room to watch her awake.

Her gaze finally came to rest on him, sitting in the light blue upholstered armchair in the corner. A timid smile spread across her face as she focused on him, not saying a word. Her subconscious mind had spent the night processing her experiences of the day and she woke with the self-defensive rationalisation that he did care for her. The rollercoaster of pain, pleasure and emotion was just his way of making her feel intensely alive and desired, and her mood matched the sunshine of the day.

"Hello sleepyhead." His voice gentle and caring as he arose from the chair, moving towards her.

"Morning. . . Ouch, I'm sore all over." The sunburn had gone, but she could feel the aches from her piercings and beating, to the stiffness and strains from her surfing adventure.

"You'll feel better as soon as you start moving." Ignoring her complaints. "I need to treat your piercings, to prevent them from getting infected." Amy the piercer, had been adamant about this the day before and he relished the opportunity to swab and play with her rings.

Pulling the duvet aside he revealed her nakedness. She blushed at his smiling gaze wandering down to her chest and crotch, even though he had seen her naked a thousand times before. Being in the room with him scrutinising her so closely felt way more embarrassing that being on video chat.

He poured alcohol from a small bottle onto a cotton ball, pushed her head unceremoniously to the right and swabbed the three ear studs front and back. It stung but was tolerable and she lay there quietly accepting his right to her body.

Her nipples were a different proposition, the sensitive nubs were throbbing and sensitive from the treatment the day before and twinged painfully when he pulled and twisted on the rings.

"Ouch, they're sore. Please be careful." She pleaded looking at him anxiously. She wasn't certain whether he was doing this out of necessity or just to hurt her. Disinfecting was one thing but twisting and tugging was another. "Do you have to pull so hard?"

"We need to make sure the holes stay clean and open. It's for your own good." Said in an uncompromising tone, without stopping his treatment or looking up from her breast.

He swabbed firmly, while moving the ring around in her sensitive nub, enjoying watching the nipple and surrounding skin pucker from the cold and pain. She just gritted her teeth, surviving this ordeal with a newfound fortitude.

It was just as painful when he doused her belly button with alcohol around the thick gauge post, wriggling it back and forward as he did so. She scrunched her eyes shut against the sting, a single tear squeezing out of the corner to run slowly across her temple towards her ear, where it disappeared with her resolve.

"It hurts. Please don't be so rough."

"All done." He said cheerfully, before continuing with a hint of enthusiasm. "This morning, we're going for a walk to see the waterfalls and the forest. It's gorgeous and we can swim there. I want to show you the forest and we may see some endangered birds."

"That sounds nice." Unsettled. Eager to try, but. . . "Is it a long way? I'm tired and sore. I don't think I can walk very far."

"You'll be fine. Get up and get dressed. Put these on." He gave her a metallic blue bikini, and dropped a pastel pink cropped shirt with white lace trim, cut-off jeans and leather sandals on the bed. He leant against the chair, waiting and watching her inspect the clothes before pulling the bikini top over her head and sliding the bottom up her legs. She had to wriggle them on, because they were really tight and form fitting, the bottom being a thong and the top more of a low-cut sports bra.

"Hold on. Just one addition before you finish dressing." He strode over to her, pulling something round and silver out of his pocket and holding it up. With a shock, she realised it was a princess butt-plug, like the one he had made her buy, but slightly larger and with a bright blue gem glinting on the base.

"What? Why'd you have that?" Not willing to believe that he wanted her to put that thing inside herself. When they were going for a walk?

"Because I want you to wear it. And you're my girl." His tone definite. "Anyway, it's no different to what you've become used to."

"But I don't want to. Please?" Her voicing taking on a whining edge.

She hated the plug, ever since he had made her shove it in her bottom the first time. Oiling it up and pressing as hard as she could, while he was watching and encouraging her through the video feed. She recalled the pain and the pressure, not getting her sphincter to accommodate its inch diameter and not comprehending why he would want her to put something up there in the first place.

Later making her stick an oiled finger in, then two, feeling so embarrassed and dirty. But his persistent encouragement ensuring that she obeyed his demands.

Then the vibrator to 'loosen her up." Making her turn it on so that a weird humming sensation spread through her crotch, making her feel good down there but in an odd full sort of a way. The pleasure conflicting with her sense that nothing should go up in there.

But with his tutoring, she had learned to push out when pushing things in, to help them overcome the tight ring that naturally closed her most private hole from invasion.

But he didn't let her keep it private, forcing her to spread herself wide, legs held up in a V so that he could see what she was doing and give her instructions. Or on her widespread knees, back arched and chest down, pushing things into herself for his entertainment, blushing crimson into the cushion, ashamed at how she must look. Angry with herself for wanting his attention so much that she debased herself for him. But not doing anything with that emotion, except supressing it in frustration as she did his bidding.

After a few days of 'practice' as he called it, he made her try the plug again. This time the practice paid off and she knew to push out as it slowly went in, stretching her tight hole her wider and wider. It was sore and degrading to have to do that to herself with him watching, so she couldn't look at the screen like he wanted.

But then it was in and her asshole tightened to clasp the narrow shaft. Her pain shifted to a fullness she had not imagined and there was her backside adorned with a pink glass bead, rather than the tight little anal star that she was used to seeing.

He made her keep it in for an hour that first time, before he told her to pull it back out, slowly dragging her rectum outwards as her skin stretched the other way, hurting just as much as on the way in.

As she got used to it, she would have to keep it in for much longer and even go out with it under her clothes. Reporting back to him how she felt about it. She would tell him how uncomfortable it was, how full it made her feel and how humiliating to have to wear it, never getting used to the feeling, even though it stopped being painful.

Also not getting used to the shame of having to lick it for lubrication, trying to slaver saliva on the bulb to ease it into her dry hole and avoid too much hurt. But is always stretched a bit going in and out, regardless of how much she had to use it.