Liana at the Castle Pt. 02

And it's true, Liana realises, blushing; it is a turn-on, this new image of Anne-Marie as a dominatrix, lording it over helpless, half-naked young women, offering them to fat businessmen.

Of course, Liana, innocent as she is, is unable to imagine anything beyond silly caricatures from half-remembered Hollywood movies - she has no real idea at all what Anne-Marie actually gets up to. But somehow it all fits - fits with her own increasing eagerness simply to give herself to Anne-Marie in bed - to be carried away by the relentless fierceness of Anne-Marie's desire, of her certainty, her desires utterly unconstrained by conventional ideas of morality or boundaries - and it fits, too, with the increased reliance on Anne-Marie's wisdom that Liana has found herself relaxing into, asking her older lover for advice on clothes, jobs to take, how to handle friends being annoying, financial worries - everything, really...

But there's more, too. The Anne-Marie she saw just now, as she sat, naked, exposed not just physically, but mentally too, so shocked had she been by the revelation - that Anne-Marie is new to her; colder, steelier, not at all caring, but greedy, instrumental. This new Anne-Marie is frightening, and she remembers now how she had experienced flickers of fear on that first day - the day when Anne-Marie had seduced her. Fear that had excited her as much as it had caused her to tremble, fear which had, though, quickly subsided as it became obvious that she could trust her new lover completely.

Now that she feels it again, feels uncertain what Anne-Marie wants from her, will put her to, will expect from her, she realises that it is delicious - an extra spice. Her lover, her wonderful older lover, so wise, so calm, so reassuring, is also a monster, capable of something beyond the bounds of normal - and Liana is putty in her hands..

Yes, she is on fire, opening herself, splitting her thighs to encourage Anne-Marie to invade her sex, to take it as she wishes, her mouth soft, open to Anne-Marie's demanding kisses, wanting to give herself, give herself over, lose herself in sensation - the more intense the better, glad to be annexed, manipulated, played like a violin. At the same time, the tears are still in her eyes, knowing, powerfully, the nothing will ever be the same again, that Anne-Marie is right - that she has changed everything with her insistence on knowing, on opening Pandora's box.

And here is Anne-Marie, whispering now in her ear;

"I'm going to have my revenge, pretty, I'm going to take you somewhere new tonight, show you something that will change you, something I've wanted to do with you for a while, but wasn't sure you were ready for. Tonight, though, I'm feeling like simply taking you there, and devastating you. Are you ready for it, pretty, ready to be taken somewhere beyond?"

Liana, panting now with sexual fever at Anne-Marie's clever and relentless manipulations of her sex, clitoris, nipples, would have said yes at any time, even if asked in this portentous fashion, but tonight, now, she would deny her lover nothing. More, in her emotional shock, the idea, of being sexually 'devastated' is welcome - an oblivion where she can simply experience, shut down the racing thoughts which Anne-Marie's revelation has triggered. And so she eagerly, sweetly, happily assents, seeking out Anne-Marie's lips, kissing her fervently;

"Oh yes, darling, please.. Please, do.. do it.. do me.."

And her hips surge as she spreads her thighs as widely as she can, emphasising her openness, her welcome of whatever it is that her lover might have in store for her - her sexual anticipation surging at the same time, her breathing going haywire, a sort of agreeable hysteria possessing her as Anne-Marie sits up, strokes her cheek;

"I can't actually imagine, why I haven't put you to this before, but no matter, nothing is going to stop me now."

"Up! Up with you now pretty - that's it - I know, your knees are all weak; it's so cute seeing you like this, so needy and vulnerable. Have I told you you're gorgeous? Well you are - just made to be ravished. Come on now, perch your lovely little ass on the corner of the vanity now, darling - that's it. Now, lift this leg up - up, up, yes, put your foot all the way up on the counter - split your pussy wide open for me, oh, you like that do you - feeling all exposed and vulnerable?"

For a deep and and animal series of shivers has passed through the girl's body, as Anne-Marie's fingers caressed her now lewdly exposed slit, then lightly nipped her swollen clitoris, her head thrown back, arms behind her on the counter, throaty, inchoate sounds coming from her lips, mouth half open, tongue tip twitching, breath coming in sharp sips.

Anne-Marie grins, pleased with herself - if nothing else, she has probably ruined this girl for satisfying sex with most ordinary partners.

"Well I like it too, and I'm going to take full advantage of it - I'm going to do just what I want to do with you, little slut - just exactly what I want because you're so wet and open and helpless.."

"But before that, we need to just make sure of that.."

And Anne-Marie deftly slips the cloth tie from Liana's dressing gown, handily hanging on the bedpost, around the girl's ankle, then her wrists, smoothly tightening and knotting before Liana has time to react. She's been tied before - but never without warning, never so tightly, and never in such an awkward position. Her heart jolts, momentarily, and then the heat of her excitement sweeps her along, and the shock simply adds to the trembling anticipation, the urgent desire for Anne-Marie to take her to somewhere where all that matters is the sensations in her body (in her pussy), somewhere her mind will be blotted out - something Anne-Marie has done for her many times, but which tonight seems set to exceed anything so far. The emotional shockwave of Anne-Marie's revelation has swept away all shreds of the girl's customary reserve, leaving her raw, defenceless, open as never before, and she lets the pulse of fear at the imposed helplessness build the fire in her belly, not sure if the constant series of small cries she emits are excitement or terror, past caring in any case, as Anne-Marie's fingers are again at her hot, wet, obscenely split sex, so tinglingly vulnerable, and softly, slowly, so gently parting her labia with long, lacquered nails.

Liana cannot help but look down, fascinated at the sight of the deep, glossy redness pushing inside her, cannot restrain a long, low moan of delirious anticipation, looks up to find Anne-Marie's gaze boring into her, her lover's lips smiling, knowing, mocking, as her fingers push on, relentless in their slow invasion of Liana's slick sex, first two, then three fingers - the girl's throat closes up, her heart seems to skip - she can't bear to watch, can't tear her eyes away.. now four - four sharp, nail tipped fingers, moving inexorably inside her; she begins to have some idea what it is that is about to be done to her and wails, soft, helpless - despair, desire, shame, need, helpless acceptance all there, making Anne-Marie's smile broaden as she bunches the fingers together, so that the finger joints stretch the pussy walls tight, forcing a wavering, sobbing moan from the girl, Anne-Marie not stopping for an instant, but moving so, so slowly..

"That's it, that's it little girl, you're being invaded. After tonight, you will know, really know, with your body, that it is me who owns this lovely little cunt, me who understands it best in all the world, me who can use it as I like, whenever I like. You will not forget this night, I promise you - Just.. so!"

And now, with a sharp thrust, the knuckles disappear inside Liana's pussy, and the girl gives out a full-throated wail, head thrown back, sobbing with the intensity of it, with the pain, with the lust, jolting as Anne-Marie begins to apply pressure on her throbbing, almost painfully sensitive clitoris with the thumb and fingers of her other hand, and simultaneously steps up the pace of her invasion, the thickest part of her hand now well inside her lovely, opened victim, and begins the final manoeuvre, slowly forming her hand into a fist inside the girl's belly, the astonishingly intimate sensation of this drawing small, desperate shrieks from Liana's lips as her shoulders hunch, than fling back again, her hips surging; her whole body seems almost to rattle, so rapid and intense is her shaking.

Somehow, Liana holds her pose, knowing she must, must not ruin this moment, must give herself, must give Anne-Marie this use of her, astonished beyond belief that these feelings, this experience is even possible, let alone happening to her, sweet demure little Liana, right now, in her own apartment - still less so that she suddenly knows herself to be hungry for it, to welcome the sense of utter powerlessness brought on by having another's fist, pumping her now, slow but remorseless - a fist in her belly, in her cunt, fucking her. Being fist-fucked, And wanting it, hearing her voice, unbidden, as if a stranger's;

"Aaahh, yes, yes, yes, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me hard,. ohhhhh, shiiiit, fuck me, harder, christ fuck me till I fucking die!"

Now Anne-Marie lifts her chin with her other hand - the one that is not buried, wrist-deep, in Liana's belly;

"Look at me - look at me girl. That's it, look at me. I'm the owner now - the owner of your cunt. Like Neil Armstrong landing on the moon, I have planted my flag in virgin territory, and claimed it."

She's grinning, joking, but savouring the aggressiveness of the joke, the utter dominance invading the girl's pussy like this emphasises, and Liana's expression of lost acceptance only underlines it.

"Now, pretty, look down - watch - see what I've done to you, see how I've conquered you - watch."

And as Liana complies, as if mesmerised, Anne-Marie begins more vigorously to pump her fist into the girl's belly, not at all harshly - there is no need for harshness; the simple sight of this being done to her brings on a mild hysterical paroxysm, to which is added an indescribably intense further layer of sensation as Anne-Marie once again begins to manipulate Liana's swollen clitoris, her years of experience and practice quickly telling as Liana feels sexual excitement overtaking her. This is shocking, since the outrageousness of seeing Anne-Marie's elegant wrist bones entering and withdrawing from her own sex so deliberately, and the relation of that sight to the all-but unprocessable sensations coming from inside her have sidelined the sexual experience, and now, to have those reintroduced so abruptly, almost mechanically, sets off a revolt inside her. Suddenly, she doesn't want to come this way, doesn't want to know that such invasive and disempowering treatment can result in sexual pleasure, and she wills herself to resist - mentally, if nothing else - she has no physical capacity at all, strength sapped by the emotional impact of what she cannot tear her eyes from, even if she were not trussed like a chicken.

But Anne-Marie is not to be resisted, and almost immediately, Liana finds her eyes going misty, her hips surging again, heat rising, hears herself starting to moan again. She's as appalled as she can raise the mental energy to be, but it makes no difference, and she feels her treacherous body begin its own drive towards the little death of orgasm, moving for and with Anne-Marie as the fist moves in her belly, as her fingers alternately deliciously flick at and then sharply nip at Liana's sensitive clit, in the pattern that Anne-Marie knows will drive the girl wild.

As her orgasm builds, relentlessly, massively, frying her brain, Liana finds herself crying tears of frustration and emotional overload; it just isn't fair! This evening has brought one overpowering rush of sensation after another, none having a chance to settle in before the next is upon her; first, the excitement of planning to show herself, spread and naked, to Anne-Marie, then the tussle over her insistence that she know the truth - and then the appalling revelation, still not assimilable, then the fear of having lost her, and now.. now this.

But even tears cannot stop her body, or stop Anne-Marie as the orgasm builds, relentless, until the helpless girl has no choice but to give herself over to it, uttering sharp, raw cries as the spasms build, until there is no going back, and she is wracked by full-body shudders as she calls out her trauma, as the despair and tumult of the evening's emotion blends with the ecstatic electrification that orgasm sends shooting through her, and she loses the ability to think.

At the height of this, Anne-Marie puts her free arm under Liana's single extended leg, and lifts the thigh so that her sex is full spread, still speared on Anne-Marie's right arm, then slides a hand around the girl's waist and smoothly lifts her into the air, her own weight immediately impaling her still more deeply onto the invading fist, driving the intensity of her orgasm an impossible notch further. It's an out-of-body experience for the lovely girl, driven far beyond anything she could ever have prepared herself for, and a juddering series of animal cries, heart-rending in their intensity, is forced from her - leaving her with a sore throat that lasts for days afterward.

Only just able to hold the writhing body, Anne-Marie lowers the girl onto the bed, on her back, legs bent double, splayed wide, and cradles her as she comes down from the shattering experience of a forced crying orgasm from her first ever fist-fucking. Anne-Marie is breathing hard too, a little carried away, surprised herself at the intensity with which she has driven the girl but with no intention of letting up now. There is a further chapter to this evening, she sees, and she will not be brooked.

All the while she holds Liana, cuddles her, strokes her, whispers sweetly into her ear, soothing her, bringing her down, she does not pull back the impaling fist one centimetre - Liana will return to herself as gently as Anne-Marie knows she needs to, but will not escape the knowledge, or the sensation of being owned in this way a second before Anne-Marie chooses to make it so.

The dressing gown cord is untied; Liana's legs gradually straighten, her arms come round to hug herself as she curls into a foetal ball for comfort, as her consciousness gradually, almost fearfully, comes back into itself.

Every now and then her body stirs, tenses, seeking to rid itself of the invader in some automatic, reflex way. But Anne-Marie is relentless, and as Liana comes fully to her senses, the occupying presence in her belly becomes is impossible to ignore - the central fact of her existence - little else matters, and now she consciously moves to expel the fist in her sex, moaning a little with each effort, weak, quickly despairing.

Anne-Marie chuckles, soft, warm, in her ear;

"Oh no, pretty, that's not happening. I've taken ownership of this pussy and I want to play some more, and show you how deeply I control you right now. So I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you, until I say it's over."

Liana can only whimper, weakly, without energy to resist or even object.

"So listen carefully, pretty. When you're ready, you're going to carefully, slowly, roll yourself over onto your knees. My fist is going to stay right there, deep inside you while you turn, so you're going to be very slow, and very careful, and you're going to feel very fucking weird indeed as it moves inside you. You're going to realise all over again just how completely I own this hot little pussy."

"And then, when you're on your belly, you're going to come up, up onto your knees and stick that tight little bottom high up in the air, and your face right down into the mattress, like the little whore that you are."

"And then I'm going to give you another orgasm."

"Moan as much as you like, pretty. You know me. If I say it, that's how it will be, and you're like putty right now, aren't you?"

And it's true. At that moment, Liana cannot even imagine moving under her own control - it is as if all her joints are made of jell-o, all her muscles overcooked pasta, her willpower a burst balloon. The only thing in her life is the fist in her belly, and the impossible, almost terrifying prospect of another orgasm.

Nevertheless within a few minutes, feeling some strength return, and with a little cooing encouragement from Anne-Marie in her ear, gentle stroking of her flanks, she slowly begins to move.

It's as strange as Anne-Marie had promised, the turning - almost a metaphysical experience, accompanied by soft sweet whimpers and deep, rippling shudders. She is overwhelmed by sensation, lost in a world of Anne-Marie's making, appalled and enthralled in equal measure, knowing that she is at this moment nothing, just a delirious servant of Anne-Maries's awesome, glorious and unfathomable power.

Suddenly desperate to know that she is pleasing her Anne-Marie, that she is doing what is desired of her, that she is giving satisfaction, she looks up, into her lover's eyes, all the weakness, fear and quivering vulnerability she feels apparent in her soft gaze, alongside her urgent need for approval. And Anne-Marie smiles at her - a dark, twisted, smile, full of superior amusement, devoid of tenderness, the eyes shocking; hard, greedy, gleeful. Tears start in Liana's eyes, but she is too far gone to do anything but cling to what she can get - Anne-Marie is smiling, and telling her she's doing it right, in a voice that is as soft and gentle as the words are harsh;

"That's it, that's it little cunt, serve me, serve my fist, that's so deep inside you; move for me, show me, show me how completely you serve me, make your body please me, without reserve, give me your sluttiness, beg my hard fist to fuck you deep, begging with your whole body, pretty."

It's not that anything is painful, but neverthless, she feels a deep tearing loss inside; a loss of something irretrievable, a disempowering. Something gone from Liana forever. Her heart is breaking even as her love for Anne-Marie becomes impossibly deeeper, becomes dependence, becomes a recognition of her own submission, an irrecoverable surrendering of something no-one could ever take from her, something that can only be given, but that she yet knows she has no control at all over the giving of - that it has simply gone from her, that Anne-Marie has her now, that she will never be fully free again.

Her eyes fill with tears as she begins, again, to move, move with infinite grace and dedication to offering her body to her mistress, as completely as she can manage to.

Years later, talking, Liana tells Anne-Marie that it was that moment from which there was never any route back to ordinary for her. That with each attempt to break away from the hard road it had set her on, it became impossible to imagine herself as 'not' the girl who, whimpering and quivering, had arranged herself so lewdly, 'face down, ass up' as Anne-Marie had taught her (as the correct position for getting fucked with the fat strap-on that she could not help herself grabbing whenever it was her turn to choose).

'Not' the girl who had spread her thighs, trembling, splitting herself again, tucking her knees right up to her chest to lift her groin another few centimetres, to offer herself more shamefully still, to beg, with her whole body, most humbly, to be destroyed by the fist in her cunt, knowing just how terribly destructive to her sense of herself it will be to be used like that again.

As 'not' the girl who, after fifteen minutes of impossibly overwhelming sensation, made to experience many times now the removal and re-introduction of the fingers, the knuckles, the hand, the wrist, the forming of the fist, the relentless pistoning of that fist in her innards, all attended by careful and almost evilly skilful manipulation, stroking, and eventually, licking and nibbling, had not screamed out her second unwanted, but wholly overwhelming orgasm of the hour, who had not thanked Anne-Marie most sincerely, had not let herself be cuddled as she cried herself to sleep, Anne-Marie's fist still buried deep in her sex, soft tears on her cheeks.