Stolen Pleasures Ch. 01

She winced as he pressed forward, feeling the violation of her body as he made it accept him, unwilling as it was. He bore down on her, his hands gripping her waist and steadying her so that she could not escape the inevitable.

There was an audible pop as suddenly the thick head roughly parted her, and she shuddered as it stretched her open.

'That's right, this is what you are.' He groaned, feeling the tightness of her squeezing him.

Once again, for what seemed like the hundredth time, he yanked her head up by tugging on her hair. She saw herself again on the screen. Two side views of her tied helplessly, suspended in midair in a doggy position. From the front, she could see her burning red eyes, wide and hopeless above her tear-stained cheeks. And from below, she could see her pussy on full display, above which she could see his swollen dick in her ass, the head inside her with the shaft tracing out to his balls.

For a moment, he paused, and then the final panel of the television flicked on to a camera, shaking and unclear as it was positioned.

It focused in on an overhead view, and from the front, she saw him reaching up to attach it above them. When he released, she could look down on that thick shaft as it split her open, seeing the tiniest sliver of that purple head that opened her wide.

When he was done, he placed his spare hand back on her waist and pulled back on her as he pressed forward again.

She did not need to watch him as he fed more of his cock inside her; she could feel it as he slowly worked it deeper.

'And remember what I told you.' He grunted, 'I'm not nearly done with you yet. Tonight, I'm going to fuck your ass. Tomorrow, your pussy. And then I'll get to all of those sick little torments I have in store for you.'

And with a thrust designed to make her yelp, he forced a full inch inside her in less than a second and mockingly laughed as she sobbed.

It's not like she'd never had anything in her ass, but she was hyper-aware of every millimetre that he pressed inside her.

Soon he let her head fall, but it was only so he could grip her hips with both hands as he began to fuck her in earnest.

She might've considered it a kindness when he applied more lube, but she knew it was only so that he could glide inside her with more ease. Still, it was a blessing, and it made his abuse of her more bearable. He hadn't lied; he said he was going to fuck her ass, and he did. He slid his dick in and out of her until he reached a steady tempo and a depth that was pleasurable to him.

His thrusts were long, pulling out until the fat head stretched her asshole before pressing back inside until she felt she was riven in two. She settled into a rhythm of steady 'huh's' of noise, clenching her eyes and feeling the throbbing length as it slid in and out of her.

She could hear his heavy breath. Feel the pinch of his fingers in her flesh. Sense the urgency of his thrusts.

She knew his desire had reached its peak when he took a hand from her waist to wrap around her bra strap. And if he hadn't already hurt her enough, he felt the cruel bite of the material as he tore it from her, letting her breasts spill free.

His heavy breaths grew to deep animalistic grunts. His fingers dug deeper into her skin as he gripped her, his nails biting deep into her bruised flesh. And his thrusts pressed ever deeper inside her.

But by now she has grown accustomed to him being deep inside her, and for a split second she wished his cock was plunging in and out of her pussy. The thought shamed her so much that she wrenched her head up to watch the screen and remembered who it was being recorded for.

For him, yes, but if he truly meant to send it to her loved ones, what would they see?

Her eyes focused on the television, and she saw the most disgusting scene. Her tits swung with each thrust as she fucked her ass. Her ass cheeks and hips were patterned with his hand prints. And from several angles, she saw his dick stretching her wide as he slammed it in and out. And he was now really slamming it inside her. She felt the slap of his balls against her pussy as he used her. She saw the sticky shaft as it speared her and felt the deep discomfort of being used so harshly.

She witnessed the final thrusts as he grunted his last and the spill of hot cum inside as he withdrew. Seeing his seed pour out over the dark lips of her pussy to shower the camera below,.

He left her then, leaving the way he came. He heard the creak of him collapsing into a chair further back beyond the arch with a sign of contentment. While she was left suspended in midair, straps held her sore body tightly in place.

She hung her head and panted, feeling the slick run of cum as it oozed from her throbbing ass and heard the pitter patter of drops as it dripped to the floor. She was exhausted, both from the ordeal and the drugs that still coursed in her veins, and she felt the fingers of sleep reaching up to tug at her. Now that he had finished with her, all the energy fled from her body. Her muscles ached and her limbs felt heavy and immovable (even though it was impossible in fact to move them).

Rest did not come for her, though; instead, he did. She could barely summon the energy to pay attention; she could not even rustle up the energy to acknowledge the snap of a camera as he shot images of her to join his media collection.

Click after click sounded from behind her, and with a spare hand, he gripped her ass cheeks and stretched them before placing a thumb and finger at either side of her throbbing hole. He stretched her open for another series of snaps, and she felt the last dribble of his seed as it was freed to run out of her.

Then he circled her, clicking away. When he reached the front of her, he gripped her hair a final time. She could find no energy to raise herself up, instead, she felt the burn across her scalp as he pulled her up to snap pictures of her face, but she was too tired to cry or feel shame.

When he was done, she heard him working the levers of the chair and felt the dizzying effects of being swung upright. That made her open her eyes to look at him. He was much the same as he'd left; the shirt beneath his jacket had its tails left hanging about his waist from where he'd discarded his trousers. His dick hung between his legs, spent for the moment, but still semi-swollen with intent.

He had a looping leather strip in his hands that she took for his belt, but when he let it uncoil, she saw it was a leash. With ease, he held back the catch and hooked it onto the iron right at her throat. She had supposed it to be part of the binding that held her in place, but she realised its purpose now.

When she was secured and he held the leash firmly in hand, his deft fingers set about loosening her bonds. First the harness straps, then the belt. Then her feet, which she wiggled gratefully.

Then he came to her wrists. When he undid those, she would be largely free, and she tried to summon the energy needed to make a break for it. Wherever 'it' was, for she still did not know where she was or the layout of her confinement. But though she tried to shake readiness into her tired legs, she could not get them to respond.

When he had undone her wrists, she practically slid from the chair, slumping to her knees so that the ring around her neck was the only support holding her upright.

She choked and clung to him, fingers gripping at his shirt as she rested her head against him. Her cheek pressed against his shaft, and it responded instantly, twitching and throbbing from the contact.

'Not again, please.' She begged silently, as if by magic the turgid length swelled and twitched back to an upright position.

She wanted to cry, she felt so tired, yet he held her firmly in place with one hand and used the other to rub himself back to full hardness. He slapped her about the face with it, leaving sticky marks across her cheeks before he forced it back between her lips.

She had no choice but to take him, tasting the lube and her ass on the thick mass as he gripped her head and jerked it on and off his dick. It slid from her lips as she almost collapsed, and blessedly, he merely held her in place as he jacked himself off.

He kept the head pressed to her face as he did; it slipped and jarred across her mouth and cheeks as he pumped it furiously. It did not take him long before, for the second time, she felt his hot cum. It splashed her lips and spilled into her mouth before running down her chin. She blew it away from her lips so that it bubbled and spilled off of her, but still she tasted it as she collapsed again, supported only by the ring at her throat.

In the first mark of sweetness, he stooped and picked her up bodily. And though he was her captor and abuser, she buried her face into the crook of his neck.

When he deposited her on her knees again, it was in front of a large metal cage. Grimly, she remembered throughout their months of speaking, him promising to capture and keep her in a 'princess cage', but this wasn't golden like he had said, but instead made of sturdy steel rods.

As he opened it, she saw that it was bedded with soft cushions, and cage or not, she needed no encouragement to crawl in and collapse on them.

The lock turning and clicking shut was the last thing she remembered of that day, and she passed out. Thighs still sticky with his seed, cum dribble at the corner of her mouth, and her ass throbbing from where he had used her.