Humiliated Ch. 04

Meekly she followed him to a bedroom, his bedroom. His twisted mind had created those despicable devices, and more, so what was she in for next? In trepidation she watched him lay a large towel over the bed. This didn't bode well.

"Lie face down," he ordered.

He began by lightly massaging her back with finger tips. "This is your time for pleasure, just lie still and relax. Close your eyes to experience every touch to the full," he quietly spoke.

She couldn't relax just because he told her to. As his fingers glided over her flesh she began to succumb. The light touches, then a deep muscle massage allayed her fears. His hands were strong and experienced. Tracy sank into a world of her own, where nothing existed except the deep sound of his voice, and wonderful sensations coursing through her body.

A pleasant smile lit his face as he continued on automatic, feeling her muscles relax. He enjoyed a massage, and this was the next best thing.

Tracy groaned pleasantly, bringing him back to the present. He didn't even remember turning her over. He had been massaging her breasts, trapping her nipples between fingers to pull on them. He slowly moved down to her belly. With palms outstretched they moved in a circular motion, around and around. His hands wondered down over her mons, interested to see how she would react.

Tracy moaned more deeply, opening her legs a little. He delved further down, toward her lips, finding them ready. It wouldn't hurt to give her a deeper massage than planned. She deserved a little pleasure. He concentrated on her sex, with both hands.

"Yes! That's so wonderful. More, please. Please! " she murmured breathlessly.

These were more words than he had heard her speak all evening. He lifted her hips to push a pillow under her bottom. With one hand massaging a breast, the other feather touching her thighs. As she opened up, her clit protruded with glistening juices.

"You're a juicy little slut, aren't you," he commented.

She had a pleasing body which he now knew very well. The demure expression she usually wore changed to a look of intent desire. He concentrated on massaging her thighs and everything between them. A finger circled her anus, with the other hand deeply massaging her sex.

Tracy heaved her hips at him, not knowing where she was, only that she was feeling so much pleasure, and feeling so alive. She kept her eyes tightly closed, in case the fantasy faded away.

Maurice felt his cock becoming achingly stiff and wondered if he should fuck her. She had willingly been purchased by him, though despite what Irene had said, he didn't think she was just a stupid slut. She wasn't the usual young thing collected from the gutter to be corrupted.

The signs of wealth were plainly there. Her hair was expensively fashioned, her nails were finely manicured, and her skin was toned, indicating she was used to being pampered. How this woman had fallen into Irene's clutches he had no idea, but she belonged to him now. While she was still under the influence of Irene's indomitable will, he just had to take advantage.

He lifted his hands from her prone body to undo his trousers. He watched her squirming up at him, searching out his fingers, with her hips lifted off the bed. It looked as though her sex was a chicks open mouth, desperately needing to be fed.

"Please, sir, please! Take me," she croaked, from a dry mouth.

He crawled onto the bed between her outstretched legs. He nudged her sex with his cock, feeling her push at him. She desperately wanted him, or rather she needed a cock inside her. Irene had been right. After the humiliation he put her through in the workshop she had lost control and just need to be fucked.

Maurice gently pushed, entering her smoothly. Her vagina was tight, gripping him strongly. It felt as though it were flexing, rippling over his cock as he entered deeper. He pushed harder, seemingly stretching her vagina, with an overpowering need to reach in all the way.

Slowly he pulled back, a long leisurely stroke. Under him she pulled back too, then thrust up, with a mighty heave of her hips. He got the message. He thrust in with a harder, faster rhythm.

"Yes! Fuck me hard. Faster! Fuck me hard and fast!" she encouraged.

Maurice rode her hard. The pillow under her hips was squashed flat into the soft bed covers. Her heavy gasps for breath matched his, as her thrusts harmonized with his. Like a machine they fucked in unison, as though joined at the hips, face to face.

He couldn't hold back. Unable to wait for her he climaxed. He was pleased to hear a blast of sound, heralding her orgasm.

"Yes!" she hissed, phrasing the word in a long, sighing, out-breath.

Maurice held his body over her, watching her eyelids flicker. He carefully lowered his heavy body to her side, not wanting to crush her. She now looked relaxed, with a pleasant smile on her face, wiping away the previous look of sorrowfulness. He stroked her hair. He stroked her eyebrows and nose, exploring her face with finger tips.

She kissed his fingers then his hands.

"Tell me this isn't a dream," she whispered.

"It's not a dream, we are both real and this is real," he said, and bent to kiss her lips.

"Is it safe to open my eyes?" she asked.

"It's up to you," he answered.

Her eyes flickered open. "My, you are handsome. Who the devil are you?" she asked. "Have I gone to heaven or hell?" she asked, with a serious look.

"Most likely its hell for some, and hell for others. You'll have to take a chance," he smiled with charm.

"I have no choice. You own me, and made me yours," she sighed.

"That's right!" he lightly laughed. "I forgot for a moment. I bought you didn't I. You're my little slut and I can do whatever I like with you. What do you think of that?" he teasingly asked.

Tracy didn't know what to say. The powerful orgasm gripped her still, influencing her thoughts. She had never before experienced anything so all consuming. Her whole life had been twisted out of kilter by Irene. The woman had found something damnable in her. She had been nastily sexed up, kept that way for so long it hurt. Then this man had worked her body into a frenzy of desire. This handsome man had conquered her, fulfilled her, and made her his.

"What can I say? I belong to you. I'm yours. You can do whatever you want with me," she whispered.

The words were tried on for size, and they fit how she felt. He was sitting up on one elbow staring at her.

"You can use me however you like," she said, a little too loud for comfort.

"I will, you can be sure of that," he grinned.