tagNonConsent/ReluctanceIvy's Rapist Ch. 03

Ivy's Rapist Ch. 03


Ivy is laying on her back atop the bed, her ass and hips raised up by the two pillows I have stuffed under her. Her black hair is tossed and messy, splayed everywhere about her head. Her face is covered by ruined makeup and tears in various states of drying, the gag over her mouth tied firmly in place. Her white blouse, now stained by sweat, lays rumpled and disheveled beneath her, the sleeves stretching up above her head on her bound arms, the nylon rope holding her wrists near the bed's headboard. The torn bra, straps still sliding up over her shoulders and around her back, display her rolling breasts topped by still swollen, hard, red nipples. Her black skirt is also a disheveled mess, twisted and wrapped around her waist, balled up and shoved out of the way. At her crotch her pussy is red, worn and weary from the two fuckings she has received. A mixture of juices drip from between the swollen lips. Her nylons are now barely holding on to her legs, their thin material torn and shredded well below the initial cut and tear and bunching up down around her knees. Miraculously her one high heel has managed to remain attached and in place, a single piece of her previously defined persona holding tightly on through this ordeal. Around her ankles more nylon rope is tied, stretching out to the bottom bedposts and holding her legs open and still.

She holds her eyes tightly shut as she lays there panting, a scowl visible around the gag.

After a minute I reach out and jerk the pillows from beneath her. I figure she probably needs to pee again and I don't want these stained with the scent of urine. Her body jerks and falls as I remove them, she struggles to keep her eyes closed even as her curiosity and shock cause them to want to open.

"Ivy?" I whisper.

Her eyelids fight with themselves, half of her wanting to open them, the other half refusing.

"Ivy? Would you like some water?" I ask.

Slowly her eyes then open, her pupils staring straight at me with a mixture of hope and anger.

"Are you thirsty?"

Barely perceptible her head nods a silent "Yes."

I step closer to the head of the bed so that I can stare straight down into her eyes. My one hand reaches out and brushes at a few strands of hair that are on her cheek. I see her fight against the urge to jerk her face away from my touch, to pull away from my fingers.

"I have some ice water here," I tell her, my eyes sliding to the nightstand for a second, then back. "If you are good I'll let you have some."

I pause then, allowing my words to sink in.

"It's not that I'm worried about anyone hearing you scream," I shrug with a slight smile. "After all, you know your house. You know how far away your neighbors are . . ."

Once more I pause so that she can think about this herself for a second.

"I just don't like it, that's all. I don't like it when a lady screams in my face," I explain. "So . . . If you promise not to scream, I will remove the gag and let you have some water. Okay?"

She is looking at me, her eyes now filled with sadness and only a tiny, tiny sparkle of the fire she had when she'd first arrived home earlier that evening. She is thinking about my words, realizing how right I am about her neighbors and the futility in screaming. She is weighing her desire for liquid with her need to upset me, trying to decide if she will scream or not. She is going to say she won't, she is going to promise not to . . . But she is not sure yet whether or not she actually will.

Slowly, very slowly, her head nods an answer.

I don't know what her decision is, but I have to give her the chance. If she does behave, the water will do her good, help her continue through my own fun in a healthier, more enjoyable fashion for myself. If she doesn't . . . Well, I can always enjoy the additional stress and mental torture I will give her.

I bend over and slip my hands behind her head where the gag is fastened. A simply tug and pull and the object is slipped from her face, pulled away. Ivy instinctively works her jaw a few times, opening and closing her mouth, sliding her tongue over her lips.

They are lovely lips too. They are soft and delicate. I feel a second's disappointment at not having been able to see them during the last couple of hours. I also regret that I will never be able to gently kiss them, to feel their delicate touch upon my own lips.

She doesn't scream, her need for refreshment stronger than her desire to torment me in anyway she can. I have a straw in my bag and I use this to allow her a couple of long sips from the ice water. I watch her lips wrap themselves around the thin implement, watch her suck at it, drawing the liquid up through the clear tool and into her mouth.

"Not too much," I warn, pulling the glass away after a couple of swallows. "Too much, too fast is not good for you."

I set the glass back on the nightstand then lift my own water to my lips and take a drink.

"Wh- Why?" Ivy ask, her voice shaky and slightly harsh.

I set my own glass down and smile at her, understanding.

"Because," I tell her, my fingers once more stroking her cheek. "Because I want to . . . Because I can . . . Because."

Standing there, staring down at her, watching her nostrils start to flare, seeing the fire rising up in her eyes, I know that she is about to make a mistake . . . One for her at least.

The hand that is caressing her cheek drops quickly and my fingers fill themselves with her hair. I jerk her head back, forcing her neck to bend and her chin to raise up. I bend down and put my face inches away from hers, my eyes glaring into her orbs.

"Don't fucking think about it, bitch," I growl. "Don't even."

She inhales sharply, the fire in her eyes wavers.

"I can leave you just like this once I leave . . . All weekend long. Leave you tied up and dirty, fucked and vulnerable and it wouldn't bother me one bit," I tell her. "I can leave you lying in you own piss and shit . . . Your arms and legs dying for circulation . . . Tingling . . . Aching. I can and I will if you try anything stupid. I promise."

We remain like that for several seconds, our eyes locked to one another's as I convey my sincerity through mine and she searches within herself for the answer to her own torment. Eventually her lids lower, she sighs dejectedly and I know she understands the depth of my own determination.

"That's good, Ivy," I tell her, letting her know that I understand what she has just done. "That's good."

I release her hair and straighten back up. As I stare down at her I realize the smell of urine is once again pungent in the air.

"You did it again, Ivy," I chuckle softly. "You pee'd your bed again."

She rolls her face away from me in disgust.

I remain standing over her for a few minutes as I debate what to do next. It is now nearing two a.m. and I feel the need for a shower. I decide to allow her one more sip of water before I replace the gag while I am occupied. When I move to put the gag back over her mouth she looks at me with pleading eyes.

"Please," she whispers.

"Sorry, Ivy," I shrug and slip the implement into place.

In her bathroom I find the clean towels then turn on the hot water. While I shower I think about Ivy and what I might do during the following hours. These thoughts cause my inner desires to reawaken.

When I come back out of the bathroom Ivy is breathing quietly, resting uncomfortably. Her eyes are closed. Her mind has shut down for a few minutes, taking a necessary escape for the moment. I stand next to the bed for several minutes simply staring down at her, admiring the beauty of her, the shape of her body, the rise of her breast and the delicate roll of her hips.

She is a thing of beauty, a delicate woman who has been assaulted in ways that only she can truly understand. And she is my victim. The power of it, the thrill of being her master against her will is exhilarating. It feeds my inner urgings, both as a human and as a man. It pushes me toward another round of excitement, toward another explosion of desire.

I am clean and naked, the towel I used to dry off laying on the floor around my feet. I continue to stare down at Ivy in her imprisoned position as I think about the things I long to do.

Eventually I reach out and touch her, my hand lightly caressing her flesh where her blouse is moved aside. Beneath my touch I sense her nerves quiver, feel her body jerk. She is awake and alert but trying to ignore me once again, trying to pretend that I am not there.

"Want some more water, Ivy?" I ask in a quiet voice.

I see her start to turn, see her begin to roll toward me, her eyes opening and sliding to their corners so that she can see me. I reach out and remove the gag once again after giving her a look that tells her I still expect her to be quiet, that I don't want to hear her scream. I allow her a few more sips of the water before taking the glass away and setting it on the nightstand once more.

In order to take the drink she has rolled completely on her back once again. I stare at her breasts, the beauty of their roundness, the swelling mounds of delicate flesh which jiggle upon her chest. I reach down and touch one of them, my fingers tracing a light trail over the softness. Ivy jerks as I do this, her body trying to escape my touch.

"Oh, come now, Ivy," I chuckle. "You know you like having your tits touched, having them played with. I saw that before. I saw the way your body responded to my manipulations."

She closes her eyes as her face turns quickly away from me, an attempt to deny to both of us what I am saying.

I climb onto the bed and straddle her waist. I hear her quietly whimper as my weight shifts the bed, see her body squirming in a vain attempt to escape as I stretch my leg over her. Now I sit atop her, staring down at her breasts, her sideways turned head above them. I reach out and cup her breasts, my hands fondling them, holding them, massaging their soft flesh. As I do this her breath catches in her throat once again and a new batch of tears can be seen sliding along part of her cheek, winding their way through the loose strands of her hair.

Silently I play with her tits for several minutes, squeezing and plying the delicate flesh. I cup and fondle them again and again, my fingers sliding along their upraised shape, touching and brushing across her areola. Eventfully I see that my attentions are having an effect. Her nipples start to harden, the blood rushing to them causing the darker flesh to change in color slightly. I continue to caress the twin mounds, loving them with my hands and fingers, cupping and stroking their beauty. Ivy whimpers as her nipples rise and stiffen, their growing hardness indicating her body's betrayal to her mind.

"You like having your tits played with, don't you, Ivy?" I sigh quietly. "Like having them touched and manipulated. Like the feel of hands massaging them."

Fighting to keep her face turned away she tries to ignore my words but a rattling in her throat gives me the answer I want.

"Yes you do, Ivy. You like having your beautiful tits played with. Like having them touched. It turns you on."

Ever since I began touching her in this way she has remained frozen in place, her breathing the only movement of her body. But now I detect a slight shifting beneath me, notice her torso wiggling a little as she pushes herself down further into the mattress.

On top of her breasts her nipples grow to rock hardness, the little nubs standing erect. They twist and flow beneath my attentions as I tweak them with my fingers, roll them over and twirl them. More rattlings are audible in her throat now, her whimpers growing more sad.

I shift myself, slide backwards so that I can lean down and put my mouth on her tits. Holding them I present their lovely flesh to myself and lower my lips around one of her nipples. As I suck in deeply on the hard nub I swish my tongue across it, licking and lapping at the sensitive nub.

"Ooh God," Ivy whimpers, her chest reflexively rising slightly.

She is crying again, her body's reaction to my mouth causing her mind extreme pain.

I pull my mouth away and smile up at her for a brief second before dropping to her other nipple. I suck on this one for longer, rolling it over and over in my mouth with my tongue. I suckle and lick it while my hand massages the mound of flesh it holds.

Moments later I straighten back up and look down at her. She still holds her face rigidly away, her closed eyes pointing toward the wall across the room as tears squeeze past their lids one at a time. My hands continue to massage and manipulate her breasts, my fingers squeezing and caressing the pliant flesh.

After a moment I bend down once more. I hold her tits together, pushing the luscious mounds together and raising her hard nipples high into the air. I hold my mouth above one, my eyes watching her as I stroke my tongue out and across the sensitive nub. As my wet tongue caresses the hard nipple I see Ivy's eyes clench closed tighter, see her winch slightly as she takes a sharp intake of breath. My tongue flickers out again and caresses her nipple once more, then again and again. It flickers and caresses the stiff nub several more times as I continue to watch her through the tops of my eyes. With each caress I see her flinch, see her eyes clamp tighter shut while her body slowly rises up to push her breasts closer to my attentions.

Then, after doing this with both nipples for several, several minutes I drop my mouth down and over one of the hard nubs quickly, locking my lips onto her flesh and suckling deeply at her.

"Mmm-mmmm," Ivy whimpers in her throat as her body reflexively lifts her tit to me, feeding me the tender flesh.

Through my upper eyes I see her face twitch, see the pain that her body's response is giving her mind and it thrills me to watch. I know she is cursing herself, calling herself many names and hating what my tit sucking is doing to her. But she cannot stop it. The series of events, the pounding that her pussy has already received twice coupled by the attentions I am giving her sensitive breasts are combining to remove her mind from the control of her body and it is responding.

I suckle on her one tit for a few minutes than quickly jerk my lips to the other. I swirl my tongue over and over her nipple, licking and caressing it as I suck on her flesh and my fingers massage them.

All of this is having its effect on me as well. I feel my own blood rushing to my cock, feel it growing stiffer and stiffer as I continue to play with Ivy's tits. Soon my raging lust is too much for me to ignore. Shifting around atop her, slipping my legs and my hips this way then that, I work to get myself between her tied open legs while retaining my mouth lock upon her nipple. Beneath me I feel her shifting as well, feel her body rolling and pushing as she senses my intentions. Some of her movements are a vain attempt at resistance, useless maneuverings to keep me from my destination, but some of them are actually helpful, her body's own response to the need I have been creating.

Soon I feel my legs drop between hers. I feel the wetness of her mattress at my knees from where she has pee'd but this does not bother me as my lust is too much in control at this point. Squirming and shoving I force her legs further open by pushing my hips at her inner thighs.

A moment later I am forced to release one of her tits so that I can reach between us and guide my now hard cock at her sex. As my fingers slip down across her crotch I feel a wetness coating them, feel the juices of her sex coating my digits. She is wet and juicy, hot from the long attentions I have shown her tits. Excitedly I slip a couple of my finger tips into her slit, slip them through her dampness. I feel her hips jerk beneath me as I do, feel them jump at the slight penetration and the rubbing of her swollen clit.

This makes my desires flame up higher and hotter than I have know them to be in a long time. I quickly abandon her pussy to grab my cock and guide it toward that which my fingers have just left.

When the head of my cock presses against her opening, the curvature of it slipping past her walls, opening her up to me, Ivy whimpers again as her hips reflexively lift toward my penetration. She is hating what I am doing and how her body is responding, but she cannot stop it.

I pull my hand back up to grab at her tit again, cupping the two of them and running my thumbs across her hard nipples as I slowly drop my hips forward, gradually filling her sex with my rigid cock.

"Mmm-mmm noooooo," Ivy whimpers, her neck straining to turn her face even further away. "Nooooo please."

She isn't talking to me, isn't asking me to not do that which I am doing. Instead she is speaking to herself, trying to tell her body not to respond, trying to stop herself from experiencing the pleasure I am creating.

My cock is soon buried deep inside of her, my pelvis grinding against her crotch as I roll my stiff cock around inside of her. Her wetness coats me, covers my flesh with her juices. I stare down at her, at her tits that I am playing with, the stiff nipples slipping beneath my sliding thumbs. I shift my hands so that I can pinch at her nipples, tweak them between forefinger and thumb. I tug on them gently for a second then do it harder.

More tears appear on her cheeks as her hips instinctively raise up and grind back into me.

"Oh yea, Ivy," I huff enthusiastically. "That's it. Fuck me back, you little whore. Fuck me back while I play with your tits. While I squeeze your nipples and caress your tits. Fuck me back with that slutty pussy of yours."

I draw my hips back until only the head of my cock remains inside of her then gradually push back into her. Her pussy muscles clench at my cock, her lips wrap themselves around it and hold tightly. Her juices wet the shaft, help to ease my penetration of her.

"You like it, Ivy," I tell her as I bottom out once more. "You like having your tits played with while your being fucked. You like having your nipples pulled while a stiff cock is being buried in your cunt."

"Mmm-noooooo please," she whimpers.

She is still fighting with herself, the sensations I am giving her causing her hips to push back at me as I stuff her pussy with my cock.

"Yea, feel that," I hiss as I grind into her some more. "Feel my cock filling your wet cunt. Feel my hands all over your tits. You feel that bitch. You feel me fucking you."

Ivy's neck strains and her head rolls back slightly as I pull on her nipples again, my hips grinding into her, my cock rolling inside of her wetness. I see her bite her bottom lip, see a flood of tears burst from beneath her tightly closed lids. Her hips jerk a few times beneath me as she struggles to fight back the orgasm that is teetering on the brink inside of her.

"Yea, feel it bitch," I growl.

I jerk my hips back then slam into her. I drive my hard cock into her pussy with powerful force, ramming its length along her lips, against her insides.

"Feel it. Feel me fucking you," I growl again, my hips beginning a series of rapid thrust. "Bitch. Cunt. Whore."

I pull back then slam forward again and again. I pound myself into her, ram my pelvis into her crotch. My fingers grip at her nipples, squeeze and pull on the sensitive nubs.

Beneath me Ivy's hips are rocking into me as well, her body winning the argument with her mind. More and more tears leak from her eyes as her neck muscles strain and tighten, her face clenching into an expression of painful erotic pleasure.

"Slut. Feel me fucking you. Feel my cock fucking your pussy. You whore. You tramp. I'm fucking you whore. I'm fucking you with my stiff cock and your loving it. You love having my hard cock fuck you while I play with your tits."

"Mmm-nooo-mmmm," Ivy whimpers.

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