Taken by the Viking Ch. 02

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Trish gets an exam and Jordan gets her mouth.
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Part 2 of the 23 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 10/14/2016
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Goldeniangel
Goldeniangel
12,559 Followers

Author's note - I do not recommend reading the chapters out of order unless you truly don't care about the plot =) And there is a fair amount of plot.

******

Chapter 2

The room Jordan took her to looked just like the doctor's offices she'd visited on the Moon and once she'd come to school down on Earth. White tiled, steel cabinets and sink, and a big table in the center of the room with stirrups. The biggest difference was the shower stall in the corner. Trish couldn't imagine why a shower stall would be needed, but she didn't think she wanted to. She was all too aware that she was still completely naked while Jordan was clothed.

He hadn't even undressed to rape her. Just opened the front of his pants and taken her.

When Jordan placed her on the table, Trish shivered as she looked down at it and realized there were an awful lot of straps attached to it, unlike doctor's tables that she'd seen before. She curled into a little ball, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

"Don't worry," Jordan said in his deep voice, the reassuring, soothing tone, not the scary one he'd used with Alex. "I won't use those unless they're absolutely necessary, baby."

"Trish," she whispered.

He arched one arrogant eyebrow at her and she quailed inwardly. "What?"

Licking her lips, she tried to gather her nerves. "My name is Trish." Her voice wasn't any louder than it had been the first time, but even that felt brave.

"I know." A tiny smile quirked the corner of his mouth at her look of surprise.

She didn't really know what to say after that, so she just watched him as he went over to one of the gleaming cabinets and opened it, pulling out a small wash cloth. He turned on the water and ran it over the cloth before coming back to her.

"Lay back and spread your legs," he instructed her. When she just stared up at him, unmoving, he raised his eyebrow. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way, baby girl, but if you don't do as I tell you then I'll spank you, strap you down, and still do what I want." He stated his case with relish and Trish didn't doubt that he'd be perfectly happy to do things either way.

Trying not to whimper, she very slowly lay back, closing her eyes as if that would help on the table. Her legs parted a little, and she squeezed her eyes tighter as she felt his hands on her thighs, pushing them even further apart. It felt like she couldn't possibly have any tears left as he pulled her down the table and she felt her feet being put into stirrups, which spread her wide open and left her deflowered pussy completely vulnerable.

Her breath came in little pants as she tried not to think about how exposed she was.

True to his word, he didn't strap her down. Something warm, wet, and textured pressed against her pussy, and Trish's eyes popped open, only to realize that he was using the clothe he'd wetted to clean her off. His focus was completely on his task, his eyes between her legs, and Trish couldn't help but stare at his face, now that he wasn't looking at hers. There were tiny lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth, that could be from laughing or frowning, although she had trouble imagining him laughing. His short blond hair might actually be even lighter than hers although it was hard to tell; it might just look lighter because it was so much shorter.

When his eyes flicked up to meet her gaze, she immediately closed hers again. The intensity she saw in him didn't reassure her at all. The look he gave her was something she'd never seen before, at least not directed at her, although she'd observed it when men looked at other women. Hungry. Possessive. Satisfied.

His fingers slid through the curls on her mound and she shivered, clenching her fists to keep herself from trying to reach down and push him away. The need to do so was almost overwhelming, but she was far too aware of how alone and vulnerable she was right now. She wondered what was happening to Alex and Bella, whether or not they were nearby. Not that they'd be able to help her either.

"I'm going to take this off," Jordan told her, petting the soft curls. "It won't hurt."

Trish didn't answer, but apparently he didn't need one. Despite how big he was, he moved quickly and efficiently and Trish found herself completely bare within a matter of minutes. She couldn't help but stare down at her denuded sex, almost horrified by how puffy and pronounced her pussy lips looked down, and how strange her mound looked without its usual covering.

"So pretty," Jordan murmured, leaning down.

She stared and then jumped in surprise as his tongue slid up the center of her pussy lips. "Oh!"

The sensation was slickly shocking, making her jump at the strangeness and pleasure of it. Jordan laughed, looking up at her between her thighs. His hands rubbed the insides of her legs, one finger moving up to tease her sensitive folds. "You look surprised."

She sucked her lips into her mouth, not sure whether he wanted an answer or not. One blond, barely there, eye-brow raised and he moved his finger up to her clit, circling the tiny bud and sending an unwanted tingle through her body. Rather than tempt him to further explore her newly bared flesh, Trish answered, hoping to distract him.

"I was."

The finger stilled. "No one has ever gone down on you before."

Heat filled her cheeks and Trish closed her eyes again, shaking her head. The familiar faint hint of shame tinged her embarrassment. No, no one had ever gone down on her. The Moon families wouldn't dally with someone so far below them, the orphanage hadn't had enough privacy for experimenting, and by the time Trish reached college and went to Earth, she was so far behind socially that no one was interested in her there. The few times a man or woman had shown interest, they'd backed off as soon as they realized how little experience Trish had - something she'd never quite been able to hide, as much as she'd wanted to. By the age of 22, everyone was expected to be pretty sexually experienced. No one wanted to go through the awkward stages with her. They wanted someone more sophisticated, more worldly, more adept at giving pleasure.

"Baby, had you done anything sexually with anyone before me?"

With her eyes still closed, Trish hesitated to nod or shake her head. She'd been kissed. Had her breasts fondled with the first woman she'd experimented with. But that was about as far as she'd gotten. She'd been left to assume that her hesitation in returning the experienced caresses was what kept her from having a second time of experimentation that time. But that was all sexual.

The finger circling her clit moved down, sliding between her shamefully wet folds, and into her sore hole. Trish gasped.

"Had anyone touched you here before?"

She shook her head, feeling tears pricking the backs of her eyelids at the reminder. At the rate she was going there wouldn't be a drop of moisture left in her body by dinnertime.

"I'm sorry, baby girl, if I'd known, I wouldn't have made your first time in front of everyone." There was a tiny bit of true regret in his voice, but Trish didn't miss the fact that he would still have raped her. Just in private. She also didn't miss his slight emphasis on the word 'first.' The finger inside of her moved, thrusting, and made her whimper at the physical reminder as well. "Are you sore, baby?"

Trish nodded, and - to her relief - he slid his finger from her body.

What followed confused the hell out of her. Jordan made her swallow some strange, gel-like substance that tasted like mint before giving her a cup of water to drink and standing over her while he watched her drink all of it. Then he gave her a shot in the arm, which pinched worse than any other shot she'd ever had. He explained it was a tracker, his cold blue eyes almost glowing with intense warning as he told her not to bother to try and escape. At the moment, Trish was starting to feel numb to everything and escape was the furthest thing from her mind. All she wanted was sleep. And if she woke up to find out that this was all just a bad dream, even better. She was exhausted and everything was starting to feel even more unreal than it had when she'd first woken up.

Then he had her lie back again and his fingers slid back into her pussy, this time with a cream that soothed some of the ache. Trish couldn't help but moan as he moved his fingers back and forth, making her pussy feel better as he applied the cream inside and out. She hadn't even realized how sore she was until it started to go away.

"That's it, little girl," he murmured.

Even though here eyes were closed, Trish could feel his eyes on her, taking in the sight of her naked body laid out for him on the doctor's table. Her nipples were puckering, her pussy was hairless and unprotected, and she knew that some of the cream on his fingers was no longer just what he was applying. It felt good, even if she didn't want it to.

But the more tired she became, the less she cared about fighting the sensations. It was easier to just give in. Easier to let the rising pleasure wash over her. A hot, wet mouth closed around her nipple and her back arched, thrusting her breasts upwards as her pussy tightened around his finger. A second finger slid inside of her, stretching her a little more, and his thumb brushed over her clitoris, setting off a spark of electricity between her thighs.

Gasping, Trish clutched at the table. Some distant part of her brain was analyzing what was happening to her; noting how she was being taken advantage of in her exhausted state, manipulated by her physical responses, and overwhelmed by the invasion of her person. This wasn't torture exactly, but more like mental coercion. But to what end?

She had no idea.

The sucking mouth switched nipples, making her whimper and writhe as his fingers became more insistent. With her eyes closed like this, as exhausted as she was, she could almost pretend that it this was her choice. That it was a normal sexual encounter. The kind she'd used to fantasize about.

When his mouth slid down her stomach, tracing little patterns with his tongue over her newly bared mound, Trish jerked and mewled. When his fingers twisted inside of her and his lips closed around her clit, sucking on the little bud just as hard as he had her nipples, she screamed as the ecstasy ran over her. Her thighs tried to close but her legs were stopped by the stirrups as the man between them sucked and fingered her through the intense orgasm.

The sensations finally ran out, leaving her utterly wrung out and limp.

Jordan picked her up again and carried her from the room.

******

When Trish woke up, he was sitting there, watching her sleep. She blinked as reality came crashing back down around her.

It hadn't been a dream. It was real. All of it. The Wolf. The Viking-like man in front of her. The loss of her virginity in front of so many others... the other captives, Alex and Bella.

She jerked back in the bed, only to gasp as she was almost immediately halted. A leather cuff was on her wrist, restraining her to the headboard. The very plain but very strong headboard. Trish stared at it, rather than at the man who was watching her. She wasn't used to seeing such a plain headboard, with simple slats. Everything on the Moon was decorated and over decorated, to show off. Even the beds at the orphanage at been more ornate than the one she'd slept on at her college dorm, here on Earth, and even that one had been ornate and delicately carved. Maybe because it was still a Moon-funded school, despite its location on Earth, which was supposed to allow for "life experiences."

The simplicity of the headboard somehow made it seem more imposing, more strong. It wasn't just there for decoration. It was there as a piece of useful furniture to attach cuffs to. The chain her cuff was attached to was actually bolted into the sturdy wood, leaving her no doubt that she would be unable to pull it from the frame.

"Are you thirsty?" The tone in which he asked the question demanded an answer.

Trish nodded, keeping her eyes averted as her heart pounded with fear. There were no physical aftereffects from earlier. Between her legs didn't feel sore at all. Whatever cream he'd put on her had worked like magic. But she couldn't forget that this man had touched her, inside and out, run his hands all over her body like he owned her, and then raped her. And, worse, made her enjoy it.

She let her gaze rise as he moved around the room, going through a door in the corner to what she assumed was a washroom. She could hear the sound of water while he was in there. There were two other doors as well, one next to the door he'd just gone through and the other to her right, on the other side of the room. Since they were both closed, she couldn't tell where they led. On each of the walls the only decoration was a sigil that she'd seen in the main hall before, but hadn't really noticed. A large S shape with a horizontal bar going through the upper curve. It wasn't particularly pretty, but since Trish had noticed it in other rooms, she assumed it was some kind of sign for the Wolf. Signs and sigils were important ways of denoting groups within society; it allowed them to know who was who and to feel an immediate sense of kinship with others. Trish only knew this from her studies and observations, since she'd never been part of one of those groups, but she'd seen it happen often enough. Especially on the Moon were people didn't even realize how much information they took in and what judgments they made just by looking at someone.

The room was small and simply furnished. The bed dominated most of it, but there was also a wardrobe, a desk with a computer unit, a vid screen on the wall, and a thickly-padded, dark red armchair that looked incredibly comfortable. Trish pulled the sheet covering her up to her collarbone as she sat up, her one bound hand tugged slightly behind her. She just didn't want to be laying there, naked, under the sheet when Jordan came back into the room. It felt too vulnerable.

Now that she'd gotten some rest, she could think straight again. Which actually made her feel worse, especially when she remembered everything that had happened today. Panic swirled in her gut as she realized there was no immediate escape and no telling what was going to happen to her next. She actually felt envious of Alex and Bella - at least as the Wolf's captives they knew they would be released eventually. They had a basic idea of what would happen to them.

Her own situation was completely unknown and quite frightening.

Especially when Jordan came back into the room, huge and naked and frightening. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the thick cock that was starting to thicken and lengthen as she looked at it.

If she hadn't been cuffed to the bed, she'd have tried to flee the moment he sat down next to her.

"Here," he said, holding out the water glass to her, lifting it up towards her face. Trish reached up to take it from him and he shook his head at her. "No, I'll hold it."

The absolutely debilitating effect that such a simple action could have on a person was not something Trish would have ever expected. Of course she could drink from a glass on her own, but the fact that Jordan wouldn't allow her to, that he made her drink from her hand, somehow made her feel even more helpless and out of control than anything else he'd done to her. But she was too thirsty to protest, and so she drank, feeling small and helpless the entire time.

If anything, the interaction seemed to turn him on even more and his cock was standing at full attention by the time she'd finished the glass. Trish tried to shrink away. The look in his eyes was not reassuring.

"Dinner is in an hour," he told her. "Let's get you dressed."

By getting her dressed, he apparently meant that he would dress her, like a doll. Trish wanted to moan with shame as he ran his hands over her body, standing her in front of the wardrobe, which was filled with clothes obviously meant for her. He held her against him, caressed her breasts, tweaked her nipples, and rubbed his fingers over her dampening pussy, obviously relishing his task of choosing a dress for her. The few times she brought her hands up, instinctively trying to cover herself from him, she was met with immediate retribution. The sharp slaps to her ass and thighs burned, and she soon found herself clenching her fists and keeping them by her side, except for when he wanted her to raise her arms so he could pull the dress over her head. He'd finally chosen a soft blue one that buttoned up the front. The skirt swirled above her knees, and making her far too aware that he obviously didn't care for feminine undergarments.

Then he sat her down on the bed, ordering her not to move. To her utter relief, he ignored his own obvious arousal and took the time to dress himself, using the closet which was next to the washroom. She stayed silent and still on the bed, not daring to move a muscle in case she drew his attention back to her and he changed his mind. Once he was dressed he took her into the washroom where he let her use the facilities, in private, before shouldering his way back in to brush her hair for her.

The gentle strokes of the brush through her hair was almost hypnotic, his fingers almost tender as he took it section by section. Trish closed her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy this one, peaceful moment where she wasn't being poked and prodded.

Unfortunately it didn't last very long. Once Jordan was satisfied with her hair, he put the hairbrush down on the counter, and it made a small clicking noise that caused her to wince as she realized that the peaceful moment was over.

"Bend over the counter, little girl," he said, his deep voice rough and eager, which only increased her trepidation. Opening her eyes, she stared at him in the mirror, pleadingly. He just raised his eyebrow at her. "Don't make me ask twice, baby, you won't like the consequences."

His eyes dropped to the hairbrush for just a moment, and a sick shudder went through Trish body. Averting her gaze so that she didn't have to look at him, she bent forward. The mirror in front of her covered almost the entire upper half of the wall and she found herself looking straight ahead at herself. She didn't like it at all, because now, even though he was standing behind her, she could see the arrested expression on Jordan's face as she obeyed his order.

Tears sprung to her eyes again as he lifted her skirt, flipping it up to her hips and exposing her bottom half. Being able to watch it happen made it feel so much worse. So she closed her eyes.

SMACK!

Trish let out a sharp sound of surprise, her eyes flying open to meet Jordan's in the mirror.

"No closing your eyes, I want you to watch," he said sternly. Trish felt her lower lip tremble, but she'd already been on the receiving end of a few smacks while he was dressing her, and that one swat to her behind felt even worse. She was in prime position to be spanked, with her upper body resting on the counter next to the sink, her toes barely touching the floor, and the edge of the counter digging into her hips.

He took a small tube out of one of the drawers beside her and squirted some liquid onto his finger while Trish watched with anxious eyes. When his finger moved down behind her, she jerked with surprise as he touched the tiny rosebud of her anus.

"NO!" She started to push herself up, but immediately found herself squashed back down again, Jordan's big hand in the center of her shoulder blades. The tip of his finger was still rubbing against the crinkled rosebud entrance to her body, he had barely even moved to secure her in place. "No, no, no, pleeeeeeeaaaaaaase..."

Goldeniangel
Goldeniangel
12,559 Followers
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