Invisible Girl - An Erotic Romance Pt. 07

"Actually, I think you need more tying up, not less," he smirked, and stepped behind her again. She heard the bag rattle then felt another piece of rope circling her right ankle. She struggled a little bit for form's sake, kicking at his hands and yelling, "You stop that right now! Let me go!" But soon enough he had her ankles tied together, leaving about a foot of slack between them. The bag rattled again and 'Mr. Bad Man' came to stand in front of her. He held up a large wicked-looking hunting knife, smiled, and then knelt to cut the excess rope lying at her feet.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" she said as he stood up.

"Doing?" He put his face very close to hers, so close that she could see her face reflected in his sunglasses.

She felt the front of her bra being pulled away from her chest, followed by a slight jerk. She looked down...and gasped to see the cups of her brassiere hanging loose.

'Mr. Bad Man' used the point of his knife to flick them aside, exposing her breasts. "Whatever I want to, my dear." He stuck the knife in his belt and reached up to pinch her still-erect nipples, rolling them roughly between thumb and forefinger. "You don't mind, do you?"—now covering her breasts with his hands and squeezing them. "Not that it matters...mmm." He made a guttural sound of pleasure in the back of his throat, almost like a purr.

Jane felt a sudden spasm between her legs as a small orgasm shook her. Oh god...mustn't let him see. She fought to keep her expression icy and disdainful. "Get your hands...off me!" She swung an elbow from behind her head and actually caught him on the side of the head—not hard enough to really hurt him, but she'd caught him by surprise, she thought smugly.

"Ow!" He staggered slightly then reached up to straighten his sunglasses, which her blow had knocked askew. "Troublemaker, huh?" he said, rubbing the side of his head where her elbow had connected. "I think maybe a little walk would help you relax." He went behind her again, and once more she heard him reach into the bag.

A walk? What did he mean? And if he was going to untie her so she could walk, why was he getting more rope? And he had gotten more rope—she could feel him doing something behind her back...but for what? He didn't seem to be using it on her...

Then he was in front of her again, squatting to pass a coil of rope between her knees from where it was tied behind her. It was a long rope, she saw from the size of the coil, and had knots tied in it every foot or so. There was an especially large one between her knees...

Which, as 'Mr. Bad Man' stood, rose with him and began to bounce and rub between her legs as he backed away, paying out the rope as he did so. He made his way across the barn and fastened the rope to another post just opposite to where Jane was standing, attaching it at chest height so that it slanted down to the knot between her legs. Jane thought he must have tied it at nearly the same height behind her as well because now the knot was pressing quite firmly against her there.

Oh god, was this what he'd meant by a walk?

It was. He returned, untied the cord holding her to the post, and from behind her said, "Get moving."

Jane, true to her role, said, "No! You untie me right now!"

He growled, "I said, get moving!"

She suddenly felt a sharp pain in her behind that caused her to jump forward and nearly stumble because of the rope at her ankles. She looked back, furious, and saw him holding up his knife, tapping the point gently with a forefinger and grinning at her as if asking her if she needed more persuasion.

She didn't. "You bastard!" she hissed at him—and started walking.

Her hobbled ankles inevitably made her steps very small, so her progress was slow. She looked down at the next knot as it approached. Watched it disappear beneath her. Felt it, like a smooth, hard knuckle sliding between her legs, pressing the already damp fabric of her panties against her there.

Jane shuddered, bit her lip and forced herself to keep moving. Because of the increasing angle of the rope each successive knot pressed harder as it passed between her legs, and soon the rope itself was a constant pressure there, forcing the thin fabric of her panties between the lips of her vagina. Oh god, it was hot in this barn! Even though she was practically naked her hair clung damply to the back of her neck and she felt a trickle of sweat trace a path down her spine.

She couldn't see 'Mr. Bad Man' but knew he was just behind her, following her across the barn floor. When she'd nearly reached the other side and the angle of the rope had become too steep for her to walk any further she stopped.

"Back," said 'Mr. Bad Man'.

So she began the same process in reverse, feeling the pressure of the rope ease and the touch of each successive knot lessen as she walked backwards. When her back touched the post she stopped again.

'Mr. Bad Man' came around and stood in front of her. "I hope you don't mind if I enjoy myself while you exercise," he said, opening and unzipping his pants and taking out his erect cock.

He threw one leg over the rope and stood with his cock against her belly. He pulled her to him as he began rubbing himself against her. "Mmm..."

He slipped his hands inside her panties and fondled her naked behind while continuing to rub his erection against her, slowly, up and down, up and down.

Jane couldn't believe how nasty he was being...and how much she was enjoying it. And although she tried to maintain her expression of icy disdain she was sure her ragged breathing was giving her away. Nevertheless she swung an elbow at him again, saying, "Get away from me!"

But he had been expecting such a move and ducked under it without even removing his hands from her panties, using his shoulder to press her back against the post. Then he began to lick her right nipple.

Oh god... She couldn't help herself: a low moan escaped from her mouth. "Uhhhhh!"

'Mr. Bad Man' raised his head and grinned at her. "What's that you say? Break time's over? Yes, I think you're right."

He stepped back from her and swung his leg free of the rope, simultaneously tucking his cock away and beginning to zip up his pants. "Still, we don't want you to feel neglected..." He dug one hand into a pants pocket while stepping close to her again. "Do we?" He opened his hand in front of her face to show her a pair of silver-colored paper clips.

Jane had no idea what they signified...until he took one between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand, bent it open just a little and then attached it to the still-erect nipple he had been licking just moments ago. The sudden pinch made her gasp with pain—and before she could recover he had attached the remaining clip to her other nipple.

"Ow! Owww...you bastard! Take them off!"

She swung her upper body back and forth as if trying to shake them off, but to no avail. 'Mr. Bad Man' watched her impassively. Eventually she subsided, still gasping, and glared at him. But as she did so she noticed that the pain had gone away and what remained was a steady pressure on her nipples, as if each were being held tightly between a thumb and forefinger.

Oooo... She closed her eyes for a moment, her tongue protruding slightly from her mouth. She opened her eyes again and knew that he'd seen her...and no longer cared. It was too much; she couldn't take any more. She looked at him, not trying to hide her desire. "Please..." she whispered, her throat dry.

"Walk," he replied.

She shuffled back and forth along the rope as if in a fever dream—eyes closed to mere slits, her entire body dripping sweat, her nipples two throbbing points of heat on her chest--and an endless stream of rough caresses passing between her legs.

Her panties were now almost completely translucent with sweat and her other juices and clung to her skin. She moaned almost continuously as she walked, her pose of rebellion completely forsaken.

'Mr. Bad Man' stood impassively near the center of the rope, arms folded, face expressionless behind his dark glasses as he watched her go back and forth, back and forth.

Jane hated him. Wanted him to fuck her right now. Would do anything to have the torture stop. Wanted it to never stop. She felt as though there was nothing left of her but a mindless craving for release, a release that would always remain just out of reach.

She had just reached the point along the rope where she usually stopped and began walking backwards when she heard his voice right behind her, startling her.

"Keep walking."

The angle of the rope was too high for her to walk any further and she tried to tell him, "But I can't—ouch!"

Once again she felt the point of his knife in her behind and jumped forward...to find herself standing on tip-toe to keep her balance on the rope.

With a knot pressing firmly between her legs.

"Good. Stay there."

He made her stand there like that for what seemed like hours although it couldn't have been more than a few minutes, coming around to watch her wobbling on the balls of her feet, the sweat pouring down her face as the slightest motion caused the knot to roll and slide between her legs.

He continued to watch, silently, as her legs began to tremble with the effort of keeping her upright. Oh, they ached! Her shoulders were beginning to hurt as well from having her arms tied behind her head so long. The knot between her legs was beginning to chafe unpleasantly. She was desperately thirsty—and hungry too.

So how could she be so aroused?

Her senses were so overwhelmed that she was only dimly aware of him walking away behind her, of distant rattling noises followed by the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor towards her. And she was so totally unprepared when the rope vanished from between her legs with a sharp twang that she fell over backwards... Only to be caught in 'Mr. Bad Man's' arms and lowered gently onto something solid but yielding, and deliciously smooth and cool against her skin, though somehow rough underneath. It was narrow, and just long enough to lie on with her legs bent at the knees, and so low that her feet easily touched the floor.

She felt the rope around her ankles being untied and then, blessedly, the rope binding her arms behind her head as well. She thought she heard her shoulders creak as she painfully lowered her arms and let them fall to either side of her, the backs of her hands lying on the floor. The tangled remains of her bra were cut away and pulled from under her.

She heard a quick hissing sound—a bottle being opened, she thought—but in her lassitude paid no attention. A moment later she felt her head being lifted and opened her eyes to see 'Mr. Bad Man' kneeling beside her and holding a bottle of Coke to her lips. She drank eagerly, the fizzy sweetness like warm nectar and ambrosia in her parched throat.

When she had had enough and the bottle had been removed she looked up again at 'Mr. Bad Man' and saw that the sunglasses were gone, and Peter's eyes were looking down at her, smiling but concerned, asking if she'd had enough, if he'd gone too far.

In reply she opened her mouth and let out a large, Coke-fueled belch. She watched Peter's lips twitch as he tried, then failed, to restrain a grin. She grinned back at him...and then they both burst into laughter.

She managed to raise one arm, ignoring the pain in her shoulder, and pull him down to kiss her. She gave him her tongue, and after a moment allowed her arm to fall back to the floor so she could yield herself completely to his mouth.

As they kissed she felt his hand rest lightly on her stomach, which was still slick with sweat—as was her entire body, seemingly—then slide up to remove first one then the other paper clip from her nipples. Were they done with playacting? Did she want to be done? She was exhausted, stiff and sore. She wanted a hot bath, followed by a long nap. But she was still so aroused...

When Peter removed his mouth from hers she put on a fearful expression and said, "Please let me go, Mr. Bad Man... I'll do anything you want..."

She saw Peter's eyebrows go up as he realized she wanted the game to continue. But when they came down he was Mr. Bad Man again. "That's right, my dear, you will," he growled, slipping his sunglasses back on, "But first I think we need a little sustenance."

Sustenance? Where did he come up with these words?

She watched as he took his knife out to cut two short lengths from the rope she'd been walking along and tied each of her wrists to her ankles. This left her spread-eagled but still comfortable on what turned out to be, she saw when she turned her head to watch him, a hay bale that had been covered with an old tablecloth which he must have brought.

When he was done with the ropes he sat down cross-legged on the floor beside her and picked up the bottle of Coke. He took a swallow or two, then casually tilted the bottle and poured the remaining soda over Jane's breasts, the brown liquid running up into the hollow of her throat and down over her ribs into the tablecloth. He allowed the last few drops to dribble down her stomach and fill her navel before returning the empty bottle to the floor.

Then he leaned forward and began to lick it all off.

He started with her navel, his tongue circling and delving. To Jane it was almost as if he'd discovered a second vagina there, the thrills his tongue were causing radiating out and causing her back to arch with desire. She began to moan again as he slowly worked his way up between her breasts and began to lick delicately at the hollow of her throat. She tilted her head back and offered her neck to him, her mouth hanging open, the complete vulnerability of the act both frightening and heart-meltingly sweet.

Between her legs she felt the tension building—she felt like the rope she had been forced to stand on just before it had been cut, pulled so taut that it nearly hummed. So when 'Mr. Bad Man' rose and threw a leg over her and stood straddling her, then leaned down and braced himself on his hands as he began licking the Coke off her breasts, she almost screamed.

And when, several agonizingly blissful moments later, he reached her left nipple and seized it between his teeth, she did scream, the suddenness and intensity of her orgasm forcing it out of her.

In doing so she found that giving voice to her pleasure added to it and she screamed again as it rippled through her. And again, although not as loudly, loving the freedom of it, knowing there was no one to hear her.

The sound reverberated throughout the huge empty barn, agitating the pigeons and barn swallows in the rafters and sending them fluttering and calling to each other. 'Mr. Bad Man' jerked back from her, startled, watching as her body arched and fell back, over and over, until her screams subsided and gradually became sighs of release.

Whew, thought Jane, as the reverberations, both inner and outer, died away. She settled, with one final long sigh, into complete relaxation for the first time since she'd woken up that morning. She allowed her mind to drift momentarily—and was amused to find herself, in her imagination, trying to describe the morning's events to Suzy while they worked at the store.

I don't think so, she thought, and smiled to herself.

Besides which, she thought, the day wasn't over yet. She was pretty sure of that. 'Mr. Bad Man' had been enjoying himself, but he hadn't had any kind of release yet.

She heard a rattling sound and opened her eyes to find that 'Mr. Bad Man' was no longer standing over her. He was sitting cross-legged beside her, rummaging around in the large paper bag at his side. A moment later he came up with a partial loaf of sliced bread and packets of lunch meat and sliced cheese. He placed these on her stomach then groped around in the bag again before coming up with small jars of mayonnaise and mustard, which he placed on the tablecloth near her hip, and another bottle of Coke, which he opened with the bottle-opener he'd brought then placed on the floor beside him.

He began to make sandwiches, using her stomach as a table. Jane, although still sated from her orgasm, found it oddly stimulating, on a level that went beyond the physical, to have her body used that way and again wondered about herself that this should be so.

In the back of her mind was the thought that she should be ashamed, but she shook it off. She didn't care anymore, as long as it was with Peter. She knew he loved her and would love her whether she did these things or not, that he derived almost as much pleasure from her fulfillment as from his own.

Thinking about these things led her into a sudden fantasy of being on her hands and knees on the barn floor, wearing only the sweat-soaked panties she had on now, while 'Mr. Bad Man' sat on the hay bale and used her as a foot-stool. She shivered.

"Hold still," growled 'Mr. Bad Man'.

He had his knife out and was spreading mustard on a slice of bread. When the first sandwich was done he placed it on her chest and began making a second. The smell of it made her salivate. She was so hungry! And so helpless.

She thought that by raising her head as far as she could she might be able to seize the edge of the sandwich in her teeth...but no, her chin would get in the way. There was nothing to do but wait—and suffer. Which, obviously, was what 'Mr. Bad Man' intended.

'Mr. Bad Man' finished making his sandwich and laid his knife on the tablecloth beside her. He turned and looked at her as he raised the sandwich to his lips and took a huge bite, then chewed and savored it before swallowing, apparently enjoying the look of longing on her face as she watched him.

"Hungry?" he asked. She nodded, and he nodded back, his expression mocking. "Well, yes, you've had a busy morning, haven't you, my dear? All that exercise...you must be starving. You'd probably do almost anything for that sandwich, hmm?"

Jane was a little puzzled. I've already said I'd do anything, so why...

Then a thought struck her: he wanted her to talk dirty! So she opened her mouth, and in a pleading tone began to speak. "Please, Mr. Bad Man, I'm so hungry. If you let me eat I'll let you...I'll let you...put your...cock in my mouth." She watched him carefully to see if this was the direction he'd wanted her to take. She saw him take a sudden breath through his nose and knew she'd been right.

She went on, "I'll kiss it...and lick it...and suck it." Now he was breathing through his mouth, and though she couldn't see his eyes he seemed to be staring at her intently. Good. She writhed slightly, in what she hoped was a sexy manner. I'll...I'll suck your cock, Mr. Bad Man," she gasped. "I'll suck it and lick it until you come. You can come in my mouth...and I'll swallow it. I'll swallow every drop, I swear!"

"You are hungry, aren't you?" replied 'Mr. Bad Man', rising to his feet.

Jane watched as he struggled to get his boots off, followed by his socks, then opened his pants and pushed them down to the floor. He stepped free of them and, naked from the waist down, threw his leg over her and stood straddling her again, his erection inches from her face. "Is this what you want?" he demanded.

It looked so huge from where she was. "Yes," she gasped. "I want your cock in my mouth."

And she did. She loved pleasing him that way, loved the feel and taste and smell of him filling her mouth, his instrument so blunt and masculine and at the same time so sensitive to the touch of her tongue and lips. Loved being able to make him come—the stifled cry, the sudden hot spurting onto her tongue—and knowing she had done it.