Lisa's Trap

Quieter, the bartender leans in towards me. "You aren't the first to come here with needs, lady. We're used to it, kinda get into the role if you know what I mean." He waits until I nod. "Lonely, disappointed wife who craves excitement," Blue Eyes moves behind me and licks my ear. "Brian is right, you smell amazing. What's your name, love?"

"Lisa," I breath out in a husky voice. My body presses back until I feel the long, thick heat of Blue Eyes' manhood pressed against my spine.

"Call me Jim," he murmurs in my ear, holding me tight with one arm while the fingers of the other start exploring under the hiked-up hem of my dress. He brushes my aching sex and pulls his fingers to his mouth, moaning as he licks them clean.

"You taste delicious, Lisa," he says. "What is it you want, love? Rape? Multiple partners? Bondage?" Jim nips my ear and slides a finger inside me, chuckling as I start moaning lewdly. "Or do you want more than even that?"

I can't speak for the heat and lust exploding through my body. Nodding my head, I twist around, lips upward and obviously begging for a kiss.

"Not yet, precious," he chides softly. "Open your eyes, Lisa. Look around you and see what we are. Look, my pet."

Grudgingly, I follow Jim's gentle command and look around the dimly lit room. Males linger all around me, some with cocks in their hands and others simply grinning at me, knowing looks in their eyes. Eyes. I gasp as I suddenly realize that every male has bright, reddish orange shining eyes reflecting through the murky darkness.

The fear returns as I recall the outlandish claims of the newspaper article that drew me here. Man changing into wolves, the rape victim had claimed. My ability to focus, to work out the improbably situation that I'm in fades as Jim kisses and nips my neck. Groaning, I forget how to think and let myself drift on a wave of lust as his long fingers slide along my throbbing sex. In a heartbeat, I'm grinding my hips and pushing against the finger that's tracing erratic circles around my sensitive clit. By the second heartbeat, I've twisted my head around, seeking Jim's wet, passionate lips. His tongue slips deep into my open mouth, flicking along previously unexplored territory as I plunge into an uncontrollable orgasm.

Boneless, I collapse back against him, nearly sliding off the stool. Hot, gentle hands hold me in place as I pant and moan. Opening my eyes, I find myself surrounded by aroused, yet polite males. I see cocks of all shapes and sizes, some being stroked, and others merely freed of the confines of pants. No male, though, makes a move to violate me as I recover. As fixated as I am on being violated, at this moment in time I want Jim and no other male.

Jim snarls, the sound low and rumbling and vibrating through my back. I gasp as my drooling lips twitch in reaction to his . . . his dominance. The other males, including Brian, back off and let the bartender help me recover.

"Brian," Jim calls out in a gruff voice, "you've got bar duty, since you're such a putz."

The young man grumbles but gives me a pleasant wink as he steps behind the bar. Jim picks up my half-empty beer glass and guides me towards a nondescript door a few feet away from the bar stool I've vacated. Looking back, I see a few males taking turns sniffing the moist wooden surface.

Jim guides me down a long hallway that's peppered with various doors, some open and others tightly shut. A few seem much heavier than any ordinary door-those few have pairs of strong-looking padlocks attached to the outside. Why on earth would they lock someone inside a room? The possibilities further excite me.

Halfway down the long hallway, my body notes the chill in the air and begins shivering. Jim drapes his arm around my shoulder, pulling tight against his hot body. I begin to notice the sounds and aromas of sex coming from some of the rooms we pass. Maybe Jim will take me into a side room. Maybe he'll leave the door open so passersby can watch as he penetrates me, uses me. My belly tingles and I rub my thighs together as I walk.

"Easy, my pet," says Jim softly.

We reach a perpendicular hallway, one that is even longer and one that seems ominous, though I have no idea why. Jim pauses, pulling me around until my breast are pressed tightly against his chest. I gasp as my heart starts hammering away again. Jim's eyes are bright and deep red. Fear spikes within me, but it doesn't override my lust. Obediently, I tilt my head up, licking my lips and silently asking for Jim's touch. He makes a satisfied masculine sound that nearly drives me to another orgasm. He leans forward, his movement agonizingly slow. Whining reaches my ears, and it isn't until I hear Jim's throaty chuckle that I realize I'm making that peculiar noise.

"Please," I finally beg. "Please."

"Please what, my precious little Lisa?"

"Please, Jim, kiss me."

He hovers over me, lips millimeters away from mine and his hot breath bathing my face. I press against him, grinding my pelvis against his masculine thickness. Grunting, he presses his lips against mine possessively. I moan into his mouth, redoubling my hips efforts as the kiss blossoms into something I've never experienced before. His teeth suddenly capture my bottom lip, biting down just hard enough to cause a delicious twinge of pain. I feel my clit twitch and throb as I rotate my hips, faster and faster. Gasping, I arch my back and let go as a fiery wave of release burns through my entire body. I scream and jerk in Jim's solid arms, my voice muffled by his mouth. Breathing hard, I crash down off the highest wave of ecstasy and lean heavily against this . . . man? A pleasant scent of rain-soaked earth and fresh mint floods my nostrils and I sigh contentedly.

Jim scoops me up in his arms and carries me somewhere as I linger in previously undiscovered bliss. I recover my senses only when he carefully deposits me on a large, comfortable couch. He sits beside me, arm draped possessively over my shoulders. Recovered from my second orgasm, I become aware of my rising curiosity.

"Jim," I begin carefully. "There was no rape here, was there?"

He regards me, a smile spreading across his face. In the brighter light, I can see the twisting curve of a scar that runs from his upper lip and across his right cheek. I reach up and run my fingers along it, although I have no idea why.

"Not the question I expected first, my precious," Jim says after a moment. He pauses as the sound of . . . screams drift down the hallway. "There are plenty of nonconsensual encounters here, Lisa. But those are never reported."

I breath in, taking in what he's saying. The danger of rape excites me, but what if these men take things further? Is Jim implying their victims are murdered? I start getting scared again, well beyond the fright that is arousing.

"Easy, Lisa," he soothes. "We do no permanent harm to woman here. Our women are a precious gift, we treat them as such. Even if our breeding methods are a bit . . . rough." Jim runs a finger along my jawline, the light touch causing me to shiver with delight. "Do you understand what we are, my dear?"

"No," I breath out dreamily as his fingers slide along my neck. "Eyes," I murmur. "Why do your eyes glow?"

Jim kisses the side of my neck, breathing me in. I groan and lean against him heavily, my breath increasing as the sounds of begging get louder. The sounds of someone in obvious distress, so like my favorite forced anal video. Someone, some woman, is being violated nearby. My hips start grinding again.

"There is a price for knowledge, my pet," Jim informs. "What are you willing to give up for such knowledge, Lisa?" His fingers slide the fabric of my dress from my shoulders, freeing my heavy breasts.

As Jim starts suckling a breast, I slide my fingers though his hair and work hard to keep my hips still as the sounds of violent sex echo around me.

What am I willing to give up?