Graciela

But I must think of my responsibilities. I have in my hands a most precious young woman, completely pure as no other I have encountered. She may dance with the skill of a worldlier woman but the truth is she casts her spell with no arts, only her natural inner glow. She knows not of physical love, of seduction, of lust... and I have the honor and the immense weight upon me to show her my entire private world without tarnishing the poise and spontaneity she had in the one she used to know. I will be hard with her - it is how I enjoy women - but I must also show her that I do it for her own growth and bliss as well. Let the next lesson begin!

********************

I wake slowly, as if emerging from a spell.Where am I?And then my whole body focuses on an insistent pulsing in my breasts, caused by the powerful fingers kneading my flesh and rolling my nipples between their tips. I inhale sharply in distress, the whole scene playing back before my eyes... they used me, all of them, and I did not resist! And now my captor tortures me still, speaking in a soothing voice as if to calm me, "Cariño,we are alone now. Try to relax, I shall massage your entire body so no stress remains. I want you tender and renewed for our next lesson. "

Our next lesson!It is too much. He may punish me, but I cannot respect myself if I continue to let him abuse me without even a word against him. As I ponder what to say, how to best revolt, I realize that he has untied my ankles to better massage my calves and thighs. Instantly I lift my legs high and begin to kick. Blows land on his torso and head before he grabs my ankles and slams my feet firmly against the bed. "Mistake, Graciela," is all he says before I hear the slash of a knife through cloth and my wrists are free but I am not as he turns me over and presses me forcefully to the bed. I feel the weight of his body as he climbs over me, straddling my legs with his thighs and holding both my wrists prisoner with one large hand. I hate having him this close to me but as my pulse races in fear I feel again the rush of moisture between my legs... damn my treacherous body! I do not know what this sensation means but it makes it harder to resist him. And resist I must for now he begins to strike my buttocks, hammering blows on both sides that cause me to cry out in real pain. I try to struggle but his weight holds me captive as he continues castigating me and then I go stiff, horrified as the blows cease and I feel one finger press down upon my anus.What will he do to me? I have no idea what he wants, but he insistently strokes and rubs me there until, suddenly, his fingertip is inside and he is pushing further in. I begin to sob in confusion and humiliation.I don't understand but this must be wrong, he cannot do this to me!

But he does. He moves his finger inside me to the hilt, my nerves protesting the unwelcome, strange intensity of its presence. He begins to move his finger in and out, slowly and rhythmically, as I squirm under him and whimper in shame. Soon he adds another finger, and a third, and with each my agony increases because I grow wetter and wetter in my private place. Soon, without wanting to, I am pushing back against his hand not in defiance but with desire. He is stroking parts of me I had not felt before, causing me to see white lights behind my closed lids and crave more and more...I hate him, I hate myself... I am a whore and I am enjoying it.

Soon he has four fingers inside my rear, stretching me to a limit that is almost painful and yet forces small moans of pleasure from my mouth. Without removing his hand he leans over me to whisper in my ear, "Don't fight what you are becoming, my dear. Accept that you are mine, that there is no secret part of you I will not claim. The more you resist the more forcefully I will bend you to my will. Now tell me, do you like what I am doing to you?"

Disgusted at his arrogance and by the betrayal of my body I force a lie through my lips. "No. I hate every second." He laughs and twists his fingers rapidly inside me, causing me to cry out with the sensation. The pleasure comes through clearly in my voice. "Tell me the truth, Graciela. Do you enjoy it?"

Again I spit out an honorable lie, "No, you brute. You disgust me." He only tisks-tisks with his tongue against his teeth. "Such language from a lady of breeding, my pet. We will have to remedy that." Quick as lightening his fingers are pulled from my gaping opening and I hear his steps cross the room. I hear water running, fabric shuffling, and then he returns. He slathers a cold, wet gel across my bottom and before I can ready myself I feel something large and warm pressed against my entrance. "Youwillgive yourself to me, and you will tell me the truth!" In one smooth stroke I feel a large presence fill me from behind, causing my body to jerk with desperate protest. I scream and he grabs my hair in both hands, pulling my head back until my throat constricts and I go silent. And in this way he rides me harshly, forcing what I know to be his member in and out of my tender hole, driving me cruelly towards another release I do not want, try to avoid...

But I am climbing again, arriving to that desperate place of no return and as he jerks my head about and pounds into me, claiming me, he demands again. "Say it, Graciela, tell me how it makes you feel." The tears pour down my stricken face as I gasp, finally, the truth: "I hate you but I love it, I don't want you to stop!" At my words he moves his hands from my hair to my breasts, pulling me back against his naked chest. As he mounts me faster and deeper I go limp in his arms, abandoning myself to my fate. His skin is hot, his muscles press hard against me, and I am lost in the masculine smell of his sweat and musk and desire.I am no longer myself,I think;now I exist only for him.I feel him begin to jerk against me uncontrollably and a fiery fluid pours into my body. With this added heat I reach my peak and, without thinking, hurl myself into the abyss beyond.

When I come to, I find myself curled in his arms. I am still blindfolded but my limbs are free and from his breathing I can tell he is asleep.Should I run?Instead I find myself impelled by a curious desire to see his face, to know who it is that has me so utterly bent to his will. Who it is that makes me feel I am breaking apart at the same instant that I feel more deeply complete than ever before...

I slowly, haltingly, free one arm from his embrace. Tugging silently on my mask I remove it and blink against the low light of the many candles placed about this crimson-draped room. I see a wooden door in the far wall but I find myself turning away from it, drawn inexplicably to view the visage of my captor. When I finally face him, I stifle a gasp of surprise. He is savagely beautiful, and in sleep his face holds a deep tenderness I never would have imagined from the pitiless tone of his voice. I want badly to caress his face, even as I rebel inside against the desire –why should I want to be gentle with my torturer? I should find his knife and kill him!But, against all reason, I cannot break away from the rich sheen of his dark skin, the devastating swoop of his thick, black brows above a strong nose and full, sweet lips set in an angular jaw. His cheekbones make me want to kiss them, and I long to see the shade of his eyes... His raven hair holds a slight wave and is gathered into a club at the base of his neck. I look lower. His body, the first of a man that I have seen, is more than I imagined. The muscles are pronounced in his long, lean frame and his hands are broad and well formed. And his... member... is large and framed by a nest of black curls, seeming to lay in wait. Seeing it, I remind myself forcefully that I must try to escape, that I may never have another opportunity like this. But as I begin to shift my weight he murmurs, "Graciela," in his sleep and I pause. Does he, somehow, care for me? He could not say my name so sweetly if he did not... and is it not true that the past hours have been, though terrifying, more real than anything I have before experienced? I am thoroughly amazed at my own stupidity as I turn back towards the wall, staring at the door I will not pass through as I, instead, snuggle back against his broad chest and slip once more into sleep.

********************

She did not attempt to leave. I am amazed. I had locked all the doors before my experiment, of course, but she did not even try... she did not attempt to fight or bind me, she just looked at me and then moved closer and went to sleep. Can I call this trust? Is she in shock from my treatment of her? She continues to surprise me. Over the last months I have grown deeply enamored of her but she has no reason to feel anything for me. Ah, the last few months...

After I saw her recital I knew I had to find a way to make her mine. I did not want to win her as a suitor; conventional formalities and restrictions would never have allowed me to create a relationship, which, from the beginning, would be as intimate as the one I desired. No, I had to have her on my own terms.

I began to make inquiries, to learn her schedule, to arrange to see her pass by on her way to music lessons, social engagements, and other events. Every time I saw her a flame ignited within me, not only due to her incredible beauty but also because of the lilt of her voice, her natural grace, the lively and insightful things she said, how she delighted in laughter. And there was more – under everything I sensed a deep current of sensuality and longing for something more, but it was clear she did not know what these cravings meant or how they could be fulfilled. No one had spoken to her of sex, and although eroticism flowed from her like perfume it was obvious to me that it was simply innate to her being. With every day I grew more resolved to have her and more sure that I could understand her as no one else would. I planned to steal her for myself, but I swore that she would thrill in the experience too, with time. I hoped that she would come to see me as the center of her world, the only one able to satisfy her... and I still hope it, and her actions tonight tell me the dream may be a distinct possibility. I will win her heart, mind, and soul along with her flesh.

"You must wake up now." I speak with a severe tone in my voice. I shall not reveal to her my knowledge of her decision – not yet. I pull her naked body to an upright position and begin to tie her wrists together in front of her taut stomach. She looks around, sleepily, then fully wakes from the false security of her slumber and stiffens her body. I speak again. "It is time for something different, and there are new rules. I will be asking more of you now, and you may have more questions. If, and only if, your question relates to how to better serve me, you may ask permission to speak. If I grant it, you may state your question and if I find it pertinent I will answer. Do you have anything to say?"

"Yes, señor," she replies. "I do not understand what you want from me. Can you tell me why you have brought me here?" I laugh low in my throat. "Graciela, you are an intelligent woman. Have you not yet guessed?"

She blushes deeply behind the blindfold I replaced while she slept. "I... I know you wish to violate my body. I know that you can take whatever you want from me, it is clear now. But why? Why have you chosen me? And why in this way?"

I take her chin in my hand and raise her face to my gaze. As I respond, I slip the mask from her eyes. "You are here,mi amor, because I think you are the most splendid woman ever created. It must be in this way because this is who I am and how I live and I must show you every part so that you understand. And I do want to violate you, yes. But I also want to share my passion with you. Do not doubt that I will, in return for your sacrifices, give you everything that I possess."

As I speak, she looks into my eyes for the first time. She cannot completely hide her confused reaction as she sees me fully, speaking with her so honestly and yet doing nothing to lessen her trepidation of the process of which I speak. After some seconds she pulls her gaze away and swallows deeply. I take my chance. "Do you trust me, Graciela?" An impossible question. But she bravely squares her shoulders and looks to my eyes again. "I trust your word not to harm me, but I believe we define harm in different ways, Señor. Physically I am uninjured. Inside, I feel I am losing myself. Why do you do this to me?"

I realize I am on the verge on gathering her in my arms to soothe her, an action that would destroy my carefully planned chain of events. I force steel into my gaze and speak abruptly. "I have told you I do not often explain myself, Señorita, and you are testing my limits. The conditions I have offered will have to suffice because they are your only option. Now come with me and do not think of struggling."

I jerk her to her feet with a tug on her bound hands and force her to walk at my side. Unbalanced after so much time without standing, she often stumbles against me and, though I show no outer sign of it, my body rejoices at her vulnerable touch. Stern-faced, I lead her to a hidden door behind a curtain and, unlocking it, draw her inside.

********************

My captor, refusing to answer my questions, has brought me to a small, stone room with no windows and only one item inside: a large metal hook hanging from the center of the low ceiling. He shuts the door behind us and turns the key.

"You know what I want, Graciela. Do it." Trembling in the chill air, I face the hook. It seems to hang at the perfect height for me to loop the ropes that bind my wrists overtop. I glance at the mysterious man next to me, whose eyes blaze with the message that he will accept no pleas for mercy. I walk to the center of the room, turn, and raise my arms in the air.

He nods once. "Well done, my pet." He watches coolly as I go on tiptoe to slide the ropes onto the hook and then settle my weight down on my heels. I am completely stretched, with no room to move side to side or bend my limbs. He comes and ties another knot in my bindings and, looking up, I realize that now I cannot slip my ropes off the hook as before. I am trapped, and he is raking his eyes over my body. He pulls several scarves from his jacket pocket and tightly binds my eyes and mouth.

"Now, this is an experiment I haven't tried before. I am quite curious to know what your response will be to staying in this place for many hours, unable to move, see, hear, or speak. All your senses will be muffled except for one..." He breaks off suddenly and I feel one finger trail tantalizingly down my spine, curve around my buttocks, and travel up to my face where it tenderly follows the line of my cheek. Then he puts cotton in my ears and, silently, is gone.

Time passes. I do not know how much. My buttocks and anus ache from their earlier punishment and my shoulders grow sore with lack of motion. Then I tighten my thighs together in response to a brief contact... something touched my arm! But it does not return.

More hours pass. It seems an infinity. And suddenly I feel a feather-light touch tickling the inside of my thigh. This time the touch continues, maddeningly close to my secret place but not arriving there. Then I am grabbed harshly by the shoulders and a mouth begins to feed on my neck, tracing the curve to my earlobe and biting me savagely there. A hand is probing between my thighs; a finger enters me and begins to plunge in and out at lightening speed. I feel faint but can make no sound of protest. A mouth locks on my right nipple, suckling furiously and another finger enters me from behind, in the same sore spot as before. A tongue plays with my pleasure bud, making my legs weak and as they go out from under me I am lifted up off the hook and placed on the cold floor on my knees. Someone loosens the rope around my wrists and I am shoved to the flagstones on all fours. I can see nothing, hear nothing, but hands and mouths continue to search out every crevice of my body and claim me. I feel a hot firmness poke against my gag and it is removed but before I can speak a large male member is shoved between my lips. I choke in shock. Hands from behind begin to push against my buttocks, forcing me to accept more of the man into my mouth. But then he shoves me back, where I rock onto another finger deep inside my vagina. Someone is beneath me, teasing me between my legs and playing with my nipples and I am forced to rock back and forth, skewered at both ends by men. As the rhythm builds I, again, am led to the edge of orgasm. I begin to make my own pace and, instead of only accepting the phallus in my mouth, I begin to suck it. I run my tongue up and down its length, tasting the salty flavor of it and noting its velvety skin and smooth texture. Amazed at my own actions, I take it as deep into my throat as I can and as I do the man standing above me cries out just a little, huskily, and I feel a hot spurt of liquid in my mouth. It tastes of the sea and is thick and creamy. I swallow, and as if on command many hands lift me again and place me on the hook, abandoning me to the desire racking my own body with no hope of reaching release. Another gag is placed about my mouth and I hang my head and cry silently.

More time passes. Someone enters and I tense my muscles but I am not attacked. Two hands only release me from the hook and I am carried in mysterious arms to a corner of the room. My visitor sits on the stone floor and places me in his lap where he begins to soothe and coddle me, caressing my face and hair and placing small, gentle kisses over all my body. He tastes my tears with his tongue and gently kisses my forehead as if to reassure me. Then he carries me back to the hook and I am left alone, more vulnerable than before for the tenderness.

More visitors. I am going mad without the power to at least anticipate their arrival. Again I am surprised by a touch, again lowered from the hook, and this time carried by at least two men. Still held between them, I am given cool water to drink and the freshness in my throat revives me. But directly after I drink I am placed in a straight-backed chair and tied firmly to it. Someone removes the cotton from my ears. Another stranger places a very thin, rounded cylinder into my hand. I am made to curl my fingers around it and then it is pulled away and I feel it entering my vagina. It goes deeper than the men's fingers and I try to pull away. I cannot and the rod is fastened in place with silk ties around my legs.

Next someone puts a thicker rod into my hand. It too is smooth and seems made of wood, and it too is taken away. A man lifts my buttocks and inserts the dowel deep in my anus before lowering me back onto the seat, my own weight pushing the instrument further inside and holding it there.

I feel hands on my breasts followed by a sharp pinch. Small metal teeth dig into my nipple and I know that I now wear a clamp. Another is added to my other nipple and the sensation is maddening, bearably painful but horribly humiliating. More clamps are placed on my nether lips and sting. Finally someone removes my gag. I begin to scream with frustration but quickly the thickest rod of all is forced into my mouth and tied in place. My tongue pinned down, I suffer complete shame. Every orifice I have is filled and claimed. And then comes the worst – a fingertip quickly runs over the bud between my legs and is gone. No one torments me now but I immediately feel a tingling there and realize that with the last touch a peppery fluid was smeared over me. It now starts to itch and madden me, making me desperate with inability to relieve myself. I am highly aroused, more each second, but no one comes to carry me over the edge. I twist in my restraints, trying to no avail to quench the longing I feel below. Then I realize I may be able to help myself – I blush deeply at my own idea, but the liquid has me insane and I give in.