Next Door Neighbors

Her mind raced through countless scenarios and possible outcomes, none of which could ever have a happy (or even a borderline pleasant) ending; dread had overwhelmed her. Yet, at the moment, there was nothing she could do; silently pondering on all the possible ways things could go wrong did not help, nor, was she in a state where she could simply hurry back home and fix things.

She was stranded, it seemed, and no one was coming to the rescue; she drained her glass, asked Stan for a refill, which she immediately received. She had a good hit, which brought on yet another horrid realization.

Quickly gulping down the strong on tequila drink had made her lightheaded and, despite still overwhelmed with negative thoughts, she had ceased to be overcome with guilt and fear. Instead, she felt ready to take on the world, to face whatever challenge may lie ahead of her.

She was brave, ready and willing to fight, capable of standing victorious above any and all adversities; she drank some more, then remembered Robert—was it how it all began for him, too? Was this sense of readiness, of alertness, and of courage that had led him into the mess at which he was at the moment?

She stared at her half-empty glass; she wanted, needed, to drink it down, have another one (and another one). She put the glass down on the small table by her side, trying not to look at it, not even think about it, to just ignore its presence, until it became nothing more than a phantom.

* * * *

"Alright," Stan said, after they had sat idly and silently on the porch for several hours, "would you like to do something else now?"

"What do you have in mind?" She asked him, her mind still occupied with the dreadful thoughts of the future she'd have to, at some fast approaching point in time, face.

"Let's go downstairs, to the basement," Stan said coolly.

"Why?" She demanded. "I thought it was a man-cave."

"It is," he quickly added. "It's just... it's an interesting place, and you may even like it... Hell," he laughed warmly, "you'll probably love it! It's fully equipped, has everything, I think playground for adults would be a more fitting title than man-cave."

"Why do I feel this is yet another of your tricks?"

"You won't know, unless you follow me, right?" He shrugged his shoulders, already on his feet and heading inside, but, with his anticipatory gaze glued on her.

Finally, Lana got up, uncertain of her decision, yet somehow sensing she had no real choice. Her heels clicked, when she took the first steps towards him, following him with unsteady steps into the living room; she hesitated at the staircase, but, in the end, curiosity emerged out victorious and she descended the stone, round staircase.

She slowed down, when she reached the bottom of the stairs; they had reached a small, lightless, foul-smelling room; she could hardly see, using the wall as guidance to avoid losing her balance.

"This is the man-cave?" She asked, bewildered.

"No," he burst into a short laughter, "this is!" He said proudly and pushed open a door, which Lana had not noticed within the darkness and her own turbulent thoughts.

Light came through the open door and they both went in; and it was, indeed, just like he had described it, perhaps even more glorious. She marveled over the nicely decorated, vast space, walked to the corners, checked on the bookshelves.

"What did I tell you?" Stan said, standing near the wall. "Isn't it quite amazing?"

"Indeed, it is," she remarked, nodding in fascination as she constantly found new spots that won her attention.

"And, there's more," Stan added meaningfully, pointing at the door right behind him.

"What's in there?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"A little playroom," he shrugged his shoulders, "something like a... meditation corner."

"Meaning?" She inquired.

"Come over, to check it out; it wouldn't be a full tour of the house, if you missed out on that one."

"Alright," she walked over to him. "Although, as nice as this room is, I still find it silly to have it in the basement... I mean, you have a house by the sea and you make a great room to hang out in down in the basement?"

"It's more like a relaxing place... my friend doesn't use it often... only when he needs some moments with himself; or, if he's got a lot of people over, so he brings his friends down here, so they can drink a beer away from the wives and children."

"Still," she said coolly and stood next to him. "Aren't you going to open the door?"

"Just waiting for you to come over, don't want to spoil anything," he winked at her and turned on the doorknob.

Lana was the first to step into the room, which was very dark; she looked about, discerning several machines and equipment standing scattered about the room.

"Oh, it's a gym, right?" She remarked, trying to feel her way into the darkness; Stan had closed the door real quick, shutting out the light entering from the main area of the basement.

"You could call it that, I think," he said playfully and flipped on a switch; a fluorescent light flickered, then showered the room with its pale greenish light.

"Jesus," Lana jumped up, when she realized that the equipment, which shadows she had only discerned, were not gym-equipment, but, sexual equipment. "What is this?"

"A playroom," Stan said coolly. "Adults only," he grabbed her from behind, his hands on her stomach, pulling her closer in, grinding his crotch against her ass.

"Oh, hey," she struggled, faintly, in his arms. "We're not actually going to... not here, right?"

"Why not?" He whispered in her ear, then planted more kisses on the back of her neck.

"It's not for me, I'm not..."

"Have you ever tried it?" His hand slipped inside her bikini bottom, giving her pussy a good rub.

"No, but... I just don't see the..." she began moaning heavily, feeling his engorged member against her.

"You shouldn't reject something, before giving it a shot," he told her, then shoved two fingers up inside of her. "I bet you never thought you'd have a gangbang in a filthy dive-bar, either, but, you fucking enjoyed it, didn't you?" His voice was low and heavy; he lowered her bottom down to her ankles and Lana, somewhat reluctantly, stepped out of it.

"I don't know, it just feels..." she began, but, her words were muffled by a scream escaping her mouth, when he pulled her hair backwards, hard.

"I think," he said, sternly, "it's time to shut you up for a little while... I'm growing tired of all your inhibitions and restrains... damn it, Lana, you know you want it and that you'll love it."

He reached down on the table next to them, grabbed a mouth ring.

"Open up, like a good little girl," he ordered her; he slapped her in the ass hard, when she didn't instantaneously comply. "There we go," he turned her about and looked at her in marvel.

Her mouth wide open, the ring not allowing her to talk, only to produce muffled sounds; Stan lowered his shorts and his hard cock was already standing in attention. He pushed her down on her knees and quickly shoved his cock in her mouth.

"That's actually better..." he said, using her hair as handles to control the rhythm. "Remember the first time? When you could barely fit the tip in your mouth?"

Lana raised her eyes, tears quickly welling up as she gagged on the long, thick shaft driven down her throat.

"And look at you now," he continued, holding her head to his crotch; balls-deep inside, Lana's eyes were wide open, as she choked and struggled. He reached down on her neck, felt his cock inside her throat. He rubbed the spot and laughed; "that's the way to masturbate," he said amid his cruel laughter.

He let her go, Lana gasped and tried to catch her breath, the mouth ring making it excessively more difficult. He caressed her cheek tenderly.

"You have to learn to breathe with the ring in your mouth, Lana," he told her. "And you better figure it out quick; I predict you're going to walk around with a mouth ring for a long, long time," he gave her a hard slap across the face.

Lana fell sideways, reaching for her burning cheek; she raised her perplexed glance and met his. Instantly, fear overwhelmed her, as she discerned something new in his eyes, a newfound passion and lust, which she had theretofore not encountered in him.

He grabbed a pair of metal handcuffs and forcefully pulled both her arms behind her back; he cuffed her hands crossed behind her back. Lana struggled, tried to free herself, but, it was fruitless.

"Don't fight it," he warned her. "It won't get you anywhere... they're actual police handcuffs, not some sex-shop mild shit. My friend is quite the fetishist, so... don't struggle, or, you might end up hurting yourself."

Then, he grabbed her by the hair, shoving his cock back inside her mouth; pounding her throat hard and fast, letting her feel the whole length of his cock as he drove it down her throat. Her jaw was already growing sore, she was drooling, and was staring pleadingly into his eyes.

Nevertheless, she found herself enjoying the situation; she was even more helpless and defenseless than in the bar, gagged and handcuffed, completely at his mercy. He banged her throat roughly, her heart was beating fast, and wanted nothing more than to just reach down and rub her pussy.

He dick-slapped her hard across the face; the weight of his cock painfully landing on her cheeks and forehead. She was drooling, hardly able to swallow; he placed his dick between her breasts and squeezed them tight around him. He squatted down, rubbed his cock on her sternum, while shoving his abs in her face.

Lana took her tongue out, giving his abs a soft lick; he shoved his member back in her mouth, ensuing the violation of her throat, letting it glide down slowly now. She choked, whenever he held her head sternly against his scrotum, thus forcing her to keep him all inside, as more tears ran down her eyes.

"That's it, bitch," he groaned, "choke on my fucking cock!"

He released her, Lana sniffled her nose as she instinctively pulled backwards, desperate for a good, deep breath.

"Pace your breathing," he instructed her. "You have to learn how to do it, how to breathe properly with the mouth ring; otherwise, it won't be as pleasurable as it should."

She simply looked at him, breathlessly; her nose continuously producing small whistling noises.

"If you struggle with this," he told her, "how will you fare with a gag?"

Lana just threw an inquiring, fearful glare at him; he smiled widely and warmly, then, slapped her breasts hard. Multiple times. Lana gasped and heaved, as the slaps continued, growing ever-harder; he'd pick her breast up with one hand, squeeze it, then bam, a slap would land and she'd cinch and whimper.

"You may cry and you may give me all the queer looks you want," he told her with a wide grin, as he slipped two fingers in her pussy, "but, you're all wet down there, Lana. You love it, don't you?"

She didn't move; she simply stared at him, blurrily from the tears overflowing her eyes, while he pushed his fingers hard inside of her, giving her the imminent satisfaction she had been lusting for for quite a while.

"Answer me, when I ask you something!" He demanded, slapped her on the breasts with his free hand. "You fucking love it, don't you?"

She nodded, accompanying the move with muffled sounds.

"There you go," he pulled his fingers out and shoved them in her mouth, "taste yourself. You're already dripping all over the floor; but, it's alright. You'll just have to clean it up afterwards," he shrugged his shoulders, sporting a huge smirk.

He continued pounding her throat, his balls slapping against her chin noisily, saliva drooling off her wide open mouth; "shit," he whispered and pulled out. Lana watched hungrily as he beat his meat and, in manners of seconds, streams of cum exploded off his cock and landed all over her face and her breasts.

A couple of loads landed in her mouth, too; she felt the saltiness in her taste buds, kept the thick load on her tongue.

"Shit," he repeated, "look at you! Already looking like a cumslut; and we've merely begun, Lana! Now, swallow it down," he ordered her.

Lana tilted her head upwards, at first gurgling the load, then, finally, could swallow it down—or, more accurately, let it glide down her throat. She then looked at him, hot cum dripping down her face, landing on her breasts, and subsequently her thighs.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," he said and grabbed her hair, forcing her up to her feet. "I ought to take a picture of you, just to show you how much more beautiful you look covered in jizz... how natural you look.

"But, it's time for round two," he laid her down on a cold marble table, face down. He tied the straps around her ankles, keeping her legs spread apart. He spanked her on the ass, laughing at the way the cheeks wiggled under his strikes.

He returned to the table whereon several instruments still lay ready to be used; he picked a soft whip, tested it on his palm. Wearing a wicked smile, he ran the whip softly across Lana's face. She shook her head in denial, squirming; she tried to get on her knees, somehow to reposition herself. She couldn't, her arms still tied tight behind her back; she could only move right and left, and that only barely.

Whoosh, and the whip broke the air, landing on her ass; the burning was real, Lana let out a tired cry and instinctively stretched her arm, wishing to reach the wounded spot; the handcuffs rattled, she fought them for a while, but, a second strike put an end to her escaping efforts.

She whimpered silently, as more and more strikes landed on her, on both cheeks. When Stan began panting heavily, he stopped.

He caressed her reddened ass cheeks softy, planted a few long, wet kisses on the bright red spots.

"You liked it, huh?" He said, running his fingers up and down her spine, enjoying seeing her shiver and tremble.

Lana mumbled, but, there were no comprehensible words coming out of her mouth; her eyes were watery, tears were running down her cheeks, she tasted her own salty tears. She tilted her head and looked at him standing above her, holding the whip over his shoulder.

"Well," he said, after having caught his breath, "here it comes!" He laughed, and whipped her again on the ass, on the thighs, and on the back. With every strike, Lana's whole body shook violently, the pain growing almost unbearably; she wanted to cry out, to beg for a break. Tried to do so, too, but, only managed to spit out some saliva from her flooded mouth.

"Alright," Stan said, heaving, "I suppose, we could both use a break, huh?" He patted her head and gave her a fatherly kiss on the forehead.

"Here," he said with a chuckle and inserted the whip's handle in her ass, dryly, "something to occupy you, while I'm gone."

Again, he kissed her on the forehead and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Lana was in the dark, the handle deep in her ass; the burning sensation from the initial penetration was slowly dying out and Lana found it pleasurable to have it in her. Her skin was seemingly on fire, her arms were growing numb; she was in a very compromising position, unable to do anything but lie there and patiently wait.

She imagined the reactions of Robert and Jenna, if they were to walk in on her right now, witness her in this position, wholeheartedly submitted... immediately, she tried to alter her thoughts, to find something else to occupy her mind with, but, the horrid thought had taken a strong grip on her.

What would her daughter say, were she to see her mother—who had always encouraged her to be strong, independent, and never do what others told her—all used up, her face covered in cum, whipped, and with a whip-handle buried in her ass?

Despite these thoughts, however, Lana could not help but feel fascinated for her situation; it was something completely different than what she had ever known, something she never even had imagined. And, just like many other things Stan had made her do, she found it extremely pleasurable and exciting.

The door opened and Stan barged in; "sorry, it might take me a little while longer," he said and grabbed a vibrator from the table, "so, it would only be gentlemanly of me, as the fantastic host that I am, to make sure you're comfortable and satisfied."

He inserted the vibrator in one swift move in Lana's wet pussy and turned it on, on maximum speed; instantly, a wave of pleasure ran through Lana's sore body, making her forget both the pain and the thoughts previously plaguing her.

"Hope you enjoy yourself, I won't be late!" He told her with a grin.

He shut the door once more behind him, leaving her again in the absolute darkness; the vibrator shook her whole body, she was trembling on the table like a fish out of the water, moaning and gasping, often finding herself forgetting how to breathe; she'd have to relax, control her breathing through the nose.

The orgasms that overwhelmed her during the time spent on that table were intense, mind-blowing, and limb-numbing; she had drooled all over the table, having soaked a wide spot, whereupon she laid down her head to rest, when she was rendered too exhausted from the shattering climaxes that had completely numbed her body.

* * * *

It was after four hours that Stan reemerged—although, Lana had no sense of time and it could have been five minutes or five days for all she knew. He yawned loudly, and deliberately, and patted her head.

"Enjoying yourself a bit too much, I see," he remarked, when he noticed the pool that had been formed around Lana's lower body. "Good, but, all good things must come to an end."

He pulled out both the vibrator and the whip and smiled, when Lana's vagina gushed out a stream of cum, both her holes lightly gaped. He slapped her pussy a few times, laughing cruelly at how her legs muscles contracted.

Lana rested her head on the moist from her sweat and saliva table, when Stan inserted his fingers in her pussy, working his entire fist in her. When the fist was in, he began pounding away, brutally pushing his arm deeper; her eyes popped open.

She could only produce moaning and sighing sounds, but, they were more than enough encouragement for Stan to go harder, faster... pushing his way deeper into her, punching her insides brutally; Lana's stomach convulsed, her toes curled, her legs began trembling.

Harder and harder grew the thrusts, his arm was buried up to the elbow inside of her, and she wanted more, she needed it even harder; she was lost in the sensations, nothing mattered anymore but to experience more of the same treatment, to be taught new ways of extreme, intense pleasure.

And Stan was more than willing to give her exactly what she wanted, as he worked his other hand in her asshole, slowly at first, hard shortly thereafter; Lana was, initially, overwhelmed with a burning sensation, but, it quickly faded away and was replaced by the euphoric feeling of being stuffed and mistreated in ways she had never thought possible.

She moaned loudly, her tongue hanging out thirstily from her wide open mouth, not even feeling the soreness of her jaw any longer; she felt nothing, thought nothing. Only the thrill of being manhandled; she pushed her lower back, taking more of Stan's arms inside of her. And he kept on pounding her hard, almost inconsiderable to whether he was causing damage; however, he knew exactly where and when to stop, he was aware of within which limits he should remain. He simply tried to hide it, to pretend he didn't know, nor care.

It worked, too; Lana was certain he'd eventually cause some injury, yet, it didn't even result in fear rising within her. Not at that moment, not while she was having both holes extended and pounded. She belonged to him heart and soul, it felt, and there was nothing that could change that; was it that what people meant, when they mentioned "breaking" someone and turning them into mindless fuckholes?