Jeri Ryan Ch. 04

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Stove tops and turned tables.
9.8k words
4.64
39.8k
7

Part 4 of the 4 part series

Updated 10/11/2022
Created 02/05/2008
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Chapter 4: Stove Tops and Turned Tables

The next time Ruslan woke up he dryly remarked, even before he opened his eyes, that if he was back in his own bed back in Seattle and this all had been a dream, he would go right back to sleep.

His limbs were mobile, but the cold press of the bathtub beneath him confirmed what he knew to be true. This was not just some sick dream. This was not some Freudian slip of his subconscious telling him he was a sexual deviant deep down at his core.

It was a cold hard truth.

Slowly his eyes opened. The room was light again, a brilliant, piercing light that hurt his constricted pupils. He sat up in the tub and looked around stiffly. The chain was still beside the tub; his cuffs were still firmly in place. He supposed he had been wearing them for more than a day and the red skin beneath them proved it. Slowly he stood, finding himself still a little weak and sore.

Ruslans eyes snapped open. All sense of time was lost to him; the skylight was dark, but not so dark as to appear pitch black. His mouth was dry and felt puffy and his lip was still throbbing. He touched it, a little dried blood transferred to his fingertips.

His rib was still sore as, and turning a dark purple. Thankfully the headache was mostly gone. At the sink he ran cold water and cleaned his lip and washed his face. As he dried his face he caught a glimpse of his naked body in a full-length mirror. The teeth marks she had left on his ass and shoulder were a dark red.Shit, she's a freak.

The marks on his skin were tender to the touch and he shuffled around the cupboards for antiseptics or iodine.

He couldn't find anything and his mind slipped back to the hours before when his aunt had explained why she wanted to push him so far. She was a rough girl, he supposed, she probably had been that way all her life. Maybe regular sex meant nothing to her. She had confessed, possibly by mistake, that it was the hunt of the thrill and the possibility of danger that made her hot. That wasn't normal, but he had heard of such things. Power games, Fem-Dom's, kinky sex. It all sounded like an episode of CSI.

The two sets of handcuffs around his ankles clattered along the marble as he walked to the door and tried the knob. It was still locked, of course, just as she had promised.

But she wasn't a dominator, he thought, at least not completely. She had confessed that she wanted the same sort of uncooked, passionate treatment. Perhaps everything leading up to this point in time had just been to prime him, crack down his patterned notions of sex and pleasure. Was she trying to boil him into a state where he would lash back at her with tenfold of what she had given him?

The door snapped open and his aunt stepped through. She looked surprised to see him awake, but not as surprised as Ruslan was to see her completely dolled up in a lacy black corset. He stared at her crookedly, wondering why she would go to this extent, with her breasts looking incredibly huge and round and her waist cinched up tight as a straw.

Was she trying to seduce him?

A matching set of black lace panties clung to the flatness of her pubic mound, a narrow teardrop of fabric was all that covered her pussy lips. Garter straps furrowed down the front of her thighs and dug into the supple curve of her ass, attaching firmly to tightly woven black nylon stockings.

She looked like a million bucks.

"Why the hell would your husband divorce you?" Ruslan let out the question with a low admiring whistle.

"He liked to fuck little boys more than he liked to fuck me."

"So do you." Ruslan laughed, but cowered back when she raised the now familiar can of mace to his face.

"Shut up." And then, with less anger, "You've been sleeping a long time. It must be a teenager thing. I was getting bored."

Ruslan noticed that she had applied make up as well, darkening her lashes and blushing her cheeks and glossing over her lips with a dark red coat of paint. A new scent bubbled around her and fanned out whenever she moved her hair. She smelled like a new woman.

Ruslan stood, eating her up with his eyes. He was still naked, and his cock twitched in the open air.

"Are you ready for play time? A lopsided smile tugged at her red lips, smugness showed in her eyebrows.

"Can I ask you something?" Ruslan asked. She nodded, "Why go to the trouble getting all sexy for a rape?"

"I like looking sexy," she swooned, and then blew him a kiss, "besides, you can't rape the willing. You are willing aren't you?"

He didn't answer.

"Get back on the stool," she ordered.

Fuck.

He looked down at the stool and remembered how hard the bars had pressed into him and how much hurt he had been in during her first assault. He wanted to dodge away, capture her and turn her plan upside down. But she held the can of mace, didn't she? How could he resist?

Jeri prodded Ruslans ass with a toe, prompting him towards the stool. She watched him set it upright and sit down on the small round seat. Even though she was primed and ready for another freak fuck, she didn't really want to do it on the stool. Quickly a plot formed in her mind.

"I'll clip you in," she offered, "Just because I'm such a gracious lady."

Gracious, right,she thought jadedly,a gracious woman would not think about impaling herself on her nephews cock...not even if it was the biggest one she had ever seen.

Ruslan eyed her mace as she swayed forward, eying it more than her prominently displayed breasts or barely-there panties. It was the mace he wanted most of all, for the moment at least.

And Jeri was prepared to give it to him.

"Legs," she ordered, kicking his shins until they lined up with the back bars again. "Good."

She made a show of placing the mace on the countertop and knelt down to fasten the cuffs.

Ruslan exploded in a flurry of motion, jumping from the stool and kicking is backwards into a wall. His hand lashed out and smacked that fucking red can underneath the toilet. His aunt started at the sudden noise and motion, fell back onto her ass and tried desperately to shuffle away.

He chased her out the door and reached for the hem of her corset but only got a hold of a garter strap.

The thin black strap snapped off and his aunt rocketed for the door. She had just turned the corner on the other side of the closet when Ruslan barreled into her, sending both their bodies sprawling on the carpet in a mess of naked limbs and tense muscles.

"Fuck you!" She screamed, pawing and kicking him off her body. She managed to get back on her feet and out the bedroom door before Ruslan was able to untangle his limbs and follow her. Her feet slipped as they hit the hardwood of the hall and she momentarily fell to a knee. Panic pressed around her like a collapsing tunnel and she looked back, expecting Ruslan to already be on top of her, but he was still in the bedroom.

Back on her feet she ran down the hall and grabbed a stair post and used her momentum to slide herself in a circle and down the stairs.

Ruslan was only a breath behind her now, she could hear him swearing and panting. She could even hear his cock slapping against his thighs.

She had just reached the kitchen doorway in the living room when he caught her, one strong hand grabbing a fistful of her hair and the other grabbing at her waist.

She screamed, fell to the floor and ate a mouthful of white carpet, thankful he had not overtaken her just a couple feet further or she would have chipped a tooth on the kitchen's red tile. His knee pressed against the middle of her back to hold her bucking body in place.

"What's the matter?" Ruslan said gruffly into her ear, "This is what you want, isn't it? You wanted to fuck!" His hand fished in her ass crack and wrapped possessively around the narrow thong of her expensive lace panties, "Well, honey, we're going to fuck!" He snapped the panties off her, baring her cunt to the abrasive rubbing of the rug. He pulled her head up with the hair he still held, staring down at her. "You want it rough, don't you?"

She blinked away tears, the pain in her scalp was more intense than she had imagined. Her ploy had counted on Ruslan chasing her, but this violence was unexpected. She wasn't scared, although she knew she was playing a fine line with her nephew's temper.

The only way to calm the situation down was to channel all his energy into lust.

"Answer me, Jeri," he barked, "Do you want it rough?"

"Yes," she choked, acting surprised, "But you won't do it. You won't fuck me like I need to be fucked."

Ruslan chuckled against her ear, pushing his mouth deeper into the wild tangle of golden locks, "Why the hell not? You don't think I learned a few things from yesterday? It was fun, the way you tied me up and used me. I bet that is how you want it too. Or do you only get off on being dominant?" His laughter died and next words were so completely serious that they chilled Jeri's heart, "I'm going to let you do it again, if that's what you want. For real."

"But—"Jeri stammered, the way he was talking now, deep and full of heat, sparked her own lust and her heart started to drum behind her ears.

He shook his head, "Don't act surprised. The way you rubbed your hot, sexy body against me woke something up in me." He paused, let a hand slide hungrily back down his aunt's butt crack. He slowly tightened his fingers around the bottom of her cheek, turning the skin red and hot "Something deep down that gets off on this shit." His grip loosened and his open palm came sharply down across her thigh. "But I want something before I let you come back at me. I want to prove to you that I'm not the ignorant fuck you think I am. I can make you squirm and cum and beg for me to stop"

"I will never beg for that," she promised.

He grunted disbelievingly and shook his head. "Let's find out."

She couldn't believe her ears. "I would like that."

Her voice was a barely audible whimper.

"I know you would." He stepped off her back and pulled her up by the rear of her corset. He snagged her wrists and yanked her into the kitchen. He shoved her up against the side of the counter with such a force that she fell back onto it. "Ah!" she yelped, stopping herself from sliding off the other side.

And then his hand was on her ankle, whipping her around so that her face was looking up at his abs. He kissed her then, remarkably well, in her mind. It wasn't a loving kiss, or even a swooning one, but it was full of passion and lust and it lit a fire in her loins all the same. She panted and groaned against his pressing mouth, accepting his forceful tongue and pushing back defiantly with her own.

Their mouths rolled together in this manner for a while until his cock was hovering rigidly at ear level. He lifted up and she let his lower lip loose from between her teeth. It snapped back against his teeth, bleeding a little.

She tasted the iron on her tongue and it made her as excited as when she licked his cum off the bathroom wall.

"Fuck," Ruslan growled, grabbing both sides of her face. His cock twitched. "You've made me bleed again."

She licked her lips, seeing that she had transferred a lot of her lipstick to his mouth and chin. "I'm a vampire," she joked.

"Yes, you are. I've never kissed like that before."

With pressing hands he pulled her until her head left the counter entirely and hung off the edge. "You ready for round two?"

"Three," she corrected him, looking at the great swaying mass of his testicles as they moved closer to her forehead. The hot skin pressed against her face, sliding up until it surrounded her nose and finally fell into her mouth. She rubbed her tongue all along it, feeling his balls split and press against her cheeks. He slid down her face further until her tongue was no longer on his balls but on the grassy knoll just behind them. And then, his ass.

Her tongue flashed out at his hole, darting in like a minnow trying to hide in a coral reef. Loud moans and girlish cries of delight escaped her wide lips. His asshole, that perfect, glorious, small little pucker that tasted so deliciously taboo she wished it would never leave her mouth. She made sweet, mouthy love to it, working her wet tongue all over it then pressed her mouth hard against it. Swirling, snooping, sponging saliva.

The rest of her body seemed numb to stimulation when she had his perfect little ass on her face, he was slapping her thighs, but the sensation seemed miles away. He was pulling her hair too, but the pain was muted, almost non-existent.

She was in anal-worshipping heaven.

And then it was over.

He pulled off her face and grabbed her jaw, forcing it open as he did so. She panted like a mutt, her tongue was still hungry for the kink hidden between his muscular ass cheeks. He wanted other things though, and it was his turn to be in charge.

The vengeful tip of his cock pressed against her smudged lips, corkscrewing with a steady pressure until his head vanished behind her thinned lips.

"Oh, shit," he groaned, "That's what I fucking want. You're going to apologize," he pushed the tip against the wall of her left cheek and slapped the bulge he had created. Then he popped it out, expecting her to talk.

Her tongue wafted after it, chasing it as far as he would let her. "I'm sorry," she pleaded; he was holding her head again and keeping her from reaching his dick. "I'm sorry I hurt your cock."

He smiled, gratified; at least for the moment.

Back into her mouth went his cock head, and then further. He held the back of her head and lifted it enough, using the slightly numb tip of his dick like a sounding rod, finding a path that seemed to be the easiest.

He found it.

Her molars scraped him, lighting up trails of pain/pleasure along his member as it went deeper inside her throat. A final forceful push got him in completely; there was no plan to stop.

Jeri's throat was spreading much easier than her pussy or ass had the night before. She admitted to herself that this was what she wanted: a monster cock invading her throat with the raping force of a bullet train.

She just wished she could breathe.

Inch after inch of his throbbing flesh continued to violate, rubbing her gag reflex and making her throat raw and raspy.

But he didn't stop.

His balls approached her slowly like a tramcar floating on its wire until once again they were on her forehead, soft as shaving cream and wet with sweat.

In a blink her nephew pulled out of her throat and she gagged, spitting up saliva onto her cheeks. His cock held quite a lot of her spit as well and he rubbed it all over her face.

"That was good," he laughed, watching her cough and gasp. "But I want to do it faster."

"Bring it on, bastard," she gagged, opening her mouth again.

This time he was not slow, and he definitely was not gentle.

He raped her mouth, ignoring the painful friction of her teeth, and tried to stab her lungs. Once maximum depth had been drilled he pumped down and she began to scream.

There was pain in her, great thunderclaps of beautiful and ephemeral pain. Her screams were muffled, coming out in muted volumes as her nephew fucked her vocal cords raw.

Tears thinned her eye shadow and dropped to the floor, but she didn't want it to stop.

When he was fully in her again he slapped her throat to see if he could feel it on his cock and she nearly threw up.

She fought the reflex by swallowing the entire twelve inches, right up to the sac. It seemed impossibly large in her throat. She couldn't nod or even turn her head a fraction of an inch the rod was so hard and steady.

At last he pulled out and her aching jaw felt like it was ready to fall right off her face. But she was still hungry...

"Are you playing with your pussy?" Ruslan asked, noticing that one of her hands was tucked between her squirming thighs.

"Yes," her voice was nearly destroyed and it hurt to talk.

"Don't."

She obediently pulled her hand away from her clit. He smiled and bent to bite her shoulder. His teeth marks very nearly matched the ones she had left on him.

She yelped as he bit down, nearly jumping off the counter.

"How do you get this off?" Ruslan asked, tugging at her corset. She rolled on her side and exposed the zipper. He pulled the tab and it split open like cut flesh it was so tight.

The corset ended up being tossed back into the living room.

"Hmm," Ruslan moaned, roughly grabbing fistfuls of her freed breasts. There were still lacy imprints in the skin from the tight restraints.

Ever since that night in the pool he had wanted to tear into her breasts. They were so faultless in their smooth roundness, right down to the erect nipples that he now molested with his mouth.

He spat and squeezed and tugged at her chest, leaving teeth marks and handprints and raw, aroused flesh as he went. She bucked and arched her back, helping him to eat her up further. He journey around her breasts like a restless nomad until finally, with a piercing shriek of joy ripping from her lips, Jeri felt his teeth take possession of her left nipple. The thrill that charged from her toes up her spine to the top of her neck was pure, delicious pleasure.

Stabs of lightning flashed into her pussy as he twisted his teeth and ground the hard bud, she even felt his tongue wetly stroking her. He was a pro, a true breast lover.

"Harder," she shrieked, pushing her tits up harder against his face, a thin film of sweat was condensing on her skin and Ruslan savored the intimate, passionate flavor, "Harder! Fucking HARDER!"

He chomped down and raised his head, lifting her breast along with him until it was as taut as a tent top.

Then he let is loose and she let out a long, gasping wail as it set back into place.

More teeth marks marred her perfect breast, rimming her areola. The nipple itself was even more inflamed. She didn't stop making noise as he spun her back around on the counter and pulled her into his arms.

She was panting, weak at the knees and begging for more.

That pissed him off. He had just nearly bit clean through her nipple, wasn't that enough pain, enough thrill for her?

"Why did you fucking stop?" She taunted him, pinching the nipple he had just released, "I can take more than that."

"Yeah?" He pushed her again the countertop, wedging his cock like a javelin under her ribs.

"Yeah." She held his gaze as defiantly as she could.

He grunted and reached for a nearby dishtowel and cleaned the drying saliva and running mascara off her face.

"You're going to have to stay pretty if you want me to keep fucking you," he warned, "I like my women hot, not looking like a crack whore."

She pouted, not bringing up the fact that her lipstick was all over his face and he looked every bit as ridiculous as she did.

He tossed the towel away and picked her clean off the floor. She gasped, feeling the air being squeeze out of her lungs. But he put her down a few seconds later, in front of the stove.

She was still face to face with him and their mouths mashed together in another frenzy of tongues and teeth and drool. He leaned into her forcefully, one hand reaching for a dial.

The stovetop was a smooth, dark sheet of glass, and just a couple inches under the lower left burner an element flared to life.

The red glow caught Jeri's attention and she stopped kissing him as suddenly as he had started kissing her. A lump of panic caught in her throat and she embraced it, turning willingly around in his embrace.

She didn't bother asking him what he was planning to burn; the answer would have taken the edge off.

"Whimper for me," Ruslan snapped, grabbing the back of her neck and inching her down until her un-molested nipple swung five inches from the surface of the stovetop.