The First Timers Club Pt. 07

I shouldered my bag and followed her, wary and skeptical. When we arrived at the garage, she pulled down a ceiling ladder and climbed up onto the sheets of plywood spanning the open ceiling joists to root around in a large pile of automotive equipment and fiberglass body panels that looked to belong to a long-abandoned project car. She tugged and pulled on a thick, heavy set of professional-grade jumper cables and then kneeled at the edge of the plywood to hand them down to me.

I reached up for them and dust and debris rained down onto my face and into my eyes.

"Careful," she said. "Rat droppings."

I closed my eyes and turned my head, spitting rodent pellets from my mouth. "Hurry up," I said impatiently.

The cables touched my hand and I groped for them. Then my wrists came together as a zip tie cinched tightly around them. In a panic, I tried to pull my arms down, but I was caught on something.

"What the fuck?" I shouted and shook my head violently to clear the debris from my face. I peeked up with one open eye and saw that my wrists were bound and hooked to a chain looped over one of the ceiling joists. "Erin! What the fuck?"

"Relax," she said as she descended the ladder at a leisurely pace. "I'm not going to hurt you."

I flailed and yanked my arms down as hard as I could, but the zip tie looked like something the cops would use. Heavy duty with dual loops for both wrists. All I managed to do was cut into my skin.

"Erin! Let me fucking go! Now!" I shouted.

She kept her distance and walked around me in a large circle to stand where I could see her.

"Now, Erin!" I shouted again, but she didn't move. "Ashley! Ashley, get in here!"

"She's not here," Erin said coolly. "I asked her to run to the store to pick up groceries. She won't be back for quite a while."

My mind raced, trying to think of a way to escape. I struggled against my restraints again, even though I'd already tried that, then spun around in a circle, searching for anything I could use to free myself. I suddenly realized that I stood directly in the middle of the empty bay where Ashley parked her Evoque. Erin had planned this all to a tee. I turned to face her and spoke quickly.

"Erin, listen to me. This is really fucked up, okay? I have someone expecting me and if I don't show up, they're going to come looking for me. Let me go and I'll forget it ever happened. Okay? Erin! Come on, Erin! Let me down, now!"

She watched me. The way a spider watches a fly thrash about in its web. Expressionless and patient, waiting for the struggle to slow and then stop, until the spider casually moves in to consume its prey.

"I'll let you down," she said, and I felt an immediate sense of relief, followed by one of dread. She wouldn't have gone to all this effort just to let me go so easily.

"If I do what?" I asked, and she cracked a smile.

"You're getting smarter," she said, her melodic voice so condescending I wanted to kick her in the teeth. "After I show you this, if you still want to go, I promise I'll cut you down."

She held up her phone, and even from six feet away, I knew what the video showed. The sound confirmed my intuition. Me brutalizing Erin's asshole in her bathroom. I looked like an animal as I gripped her hair in both hands, craning her neck backwards until she faced the ceiling, and slamming my thick cock into her ass again and again with such brutality that I almost turned away.

"Why are you showing me this?" I asked, but she ignored the question and turned the phone around to queue up something else. When she showed it to me, the blood drained from my face.

The video showed a view from inside the pool house, somewhere up high, near the corner of the ceiling. In the center of the frame, I held Brittney's long red hair and fucked her mercilessly. Her screams sounded ghastly pouring from the phone's tiny speakers and the sight of blood looked reminiscent of something from a slasher film. Off to the side, Ashley held her hands over her mouth and cried while Kayla consoled her. It looked disturbing to me. To an outside observer, it would look like a horrifying assault.

"What the fuck, Erin? Why are you doing this? This isn't right. You're sick. You need help. You can't do this! Let me go, Erin! Erin, let me go!" I shouted, resuming my struggle.

She turned off her phone and tucked it away. Then she picked up a pair of wire snips from the workbench and opened and closed them menacingly. I stopped struggling and froze, my eyes wide with fear.

"What are those for? What are you going to do?"

She moved to the ladder and began to ascend. "You asked me to let you go, so I'm letting you go."

I breathed a sigh of relief and stared up as she reached down to cut the zip tie. When the hardened steel cutting edge touched the plastic, she hesitated and looked at me with a diabolical expression.

"Last chance," she said. "Are you sure this is what you really want, after what you just saw?"

I almost screamed yes, but my voice caught in my throat. What would she do with those videos? Who would she show them to? I hadn't done anything wrong, nothing illegal, but could I prove it? Courtney would confirm it had all been consensual. As would the other girls. But what about the video with Erin? Would she lie about it? One brutal sex video, maybe. But two? Would anyone believe four teenaged virgin girls hadn't been coerced by a sex-raged lunatic? Groomed and brainwashed to say whatever he wanted?

I couldn't risk that. The mere accusation of something criminal could ruin me, and without proper context, no one seeing it could be blamed for thinking the worst. I worked in a tight knit industry. Even if nothing came of it, I could be blacklisted for being too high risk. Female colleagues and clients would never feel comfortable around me again. I could become a pariah just like that.

I looked up at Erin, her smug, jowly face staring back at me with those beady pig eyes. She'd pushed me around the board with impunity and maneuvered me into her trap with hardly any effort, and now she had me. Check mate, motherfucker. She owned me. I closed my eyes and shook my head.

"Excellent! This is going to be fun," she said, scrambling down the ladder in a rush. "Let's make this quick, okay? I don't want you to be late for your appointment."

She moved quickly and efficiently, as if she'd choreographed every detail in advance, which I suspected she had. From beneath the workbench, she pulled out a small duffle bag and set it on top. Then she turned to face me, staying just out of reach.

"You'll do what I say, when I say it, and you won't make a fuss. Say, 'yes, mommy.'"

When I refused to respond, she reached back for the snips. "Very well," she said, sounding almost disappointed.

"Yes, fat cunt bitch mommy," I said in a low voice.

She put the snips down. "I kind of liked that," she said. "Fat cunt bitch mommy. Mm. You made mommy's fat little pussy tingle when you said it."

"You're a disgusting hog," I spat. "I fucking hate you. I hope you choke on my cock and die, you horrid slag!"

Erin grinned and shivered. "More."

I clamped my mouth shut and clenched my jaw. When she saw I wouldn't indulge her any longer, she smirked.

"Damn. I think you could have made me cum just from talking to me like that."

"Fuck you!" I shouted and she shivered again.

"I'm going to take your clothes off now," she said. "If you struggle or, god forbid, do something stupid like kick me, I'll cut you loose immediately and you can deal with the consequences. Understand?"

I glared at her but said nothing. When she reached for the snips, I said, "I understand."

"'Yes, mommy,' please."

I let out a frustrated sigh and said, "Yes, hog-faced mommy."

She giggled and stepped forward tentatively. When I didn't lunge, she bent down to untie my shoes. It took everything I had to not knee her in the face, and she looked up several times as if sensing my thoughts. With my feet bare, she stood to undo the fly of my pants. She stood so close, I smelled the conditioner in her hair. With a swift motion, she depantsed me and folded them neatly, setting them off to the side.

From the duffel, she produced a pair of sewing sheers and snipped the air. "Sorry," she said with a sad face. "No choice. I'll buy you a new one."

In seconds, she'd cut my shirt from my torso and put the shears, along with the shredded remains, back into the bag. I hanged naked in front of her.

She returned to me and did a slow lap to survey her captured prize. When her hand touched my skin, I flinched and tried to pull away.

"Ah-ah," she said softly. "No struggling, remember?"

Her fingers glided over my body as she circled me, moving lower with every lap, until she brushed over my bare ass and then my cock. Thankfully, I hanged flaccid, but I knew that wouldn't last. She stopped in front of me and stroked me to full hardness, her eyes never leaving mine.

"I've been watching you closely," she said as her hand moved gently over the smooth skin of my shaft and the broad, ridged head. "I've never seen anyone fuck like you before. So raw, so assured, yet able to be restrained when necessary. Gentle even. And watching the way Ashley and her friends respond to you and how desperately they try to please you, well...let's just say you've given me dozens of orgasms since the day you arrived."

My cock throbbed from her expert manipulations. She knew exactly where to touch and how much pressure to use. I breathed heavily through my nose and flexed every muscle in my body, trying to will my cock to ignore her stimulation, but I knew what a losing battle that would be and I soon surrendered to her hand. When she saw my muscles relax, a satisfied smile crept upon her lips.

"Good boy," she whispered. "Let mommy make you feel good."

If I couldn't stop myself from responding to her stroking hand, I could at least not look. I closed my eyes and she chuckled softly.

"You are so stubborn!" she said softly. "All I've ever wanted to do is help you, but every time I try, you refuse to let me."

I opened my eyes to glare at her. "Help me? You're a liar and a narcissist. The only thing you've done since we met is try to get what you want. You don't care about me. You don't care about anyone but yourself."

While she stroked my cock, she moved her other hand over my body, feeling my chest and arms and back and ass. She tsked at my rebuke of her and shook her head.

"When have I ever lied to you?"

"You told me you had my car towed."

She scoffed. "That was a joke. I already told you that. Like telling someone their fly's down when it isn't. All you had to do was peek out the window and you would have seen I was kidding around with you. But you never did, because you wanted it to be true."

I racked my brain, trying to think of any actual lie she'd told me, but I came away emptyhanded.

Erin went to her knees and took my cock into her mouth. Her technique was so flawless, so transcendent, that I knew she could make me cum at her whim. Her hands moved gently, almost lovingly over my shaft and my balls and my legs and my ass, and her throaty vocalizations caused the hairs on my arm to stand up on end. I recalled my blowjob lesson with the girls, where I'd crudely tried to explain what passionate cocksucking should look like. If they could have seen Erin sucking my cock at that moment, they would have known its purest expression.

Despite the deep loathing I felt for her, I couldn't resist my basest desires. I was a servant to pleasure, and I began to move my hips against her, thrusting my cock into her mouth. She didn't scold me or complain or try to resist me. She simply adapted and let me fuck her mouth while she sucked my cock.

Inside of a minute, my orgasm had built to the point my balls contracted as I prepared to release a load of semen into Erin's mouth. As she had before, however, she sensed my imminent climax and removed her mouth and hand to forestall its arrival.

I groaned in frustration and stared at her with an aching expression. "Come on, Erin. Enough bullshit. You've got me where you want me, okay? The least you can do is let me cum."

She lifted her eyebrows and smiled apologetically. As she walked to the workbench, my desperation turned to anger.

"You're such a selfish cunt! No wonder no one wants to fuck you."

She hesitated for the briefest moment, then reached into the duffel bag to extract a feather duster. When I saw it, I tossed my head back and closed my eyes, muttering no, no, no over and over again. I'd known the agonizing torture of an expertly applied duster before, and I had little doubt that Erin's proficiency with it would be of the highest order.

She chuckled and said, "I see you know this one. It's always amusing when you start out with someone who doesn't. That look of boredom and impatience as they wonder what they're supposed to be feeling. Then, by the end, they're scratching through the mattress, screaming and begging for you to stop."

I knew exactly what she meant, and foreknowledge of it only made the anticipation worse. Like being the next person in line at a beheading. She strolled around me for another couple laps, dragging the feathers over my body, their weightless caress, like baby's breath, stirring and stimulating the sensitive touch receptors just beneath the surface of my skin. My nipples hardened when she dragged them across my chest.

"You hate me," she said when at last she brought the feathers into contact with the overstimulated head of my aching cock. "Don't you?"

"With all the fiber of my being," I managed to say through clenched teeth, in a voice so strained I almost choked. The tendons in my neck pulled taught, like over tuned piano wire.

Slow, caressing movements, swirling over the shiny glans, brushing against the tiny lips of my urethra. Already, I could barely control my movements as micro twitches flared and crackled across my body like tiny electric shocks. In a few minutes, I'd be bleeding from my wrists.

"You don't hate me," she said, her focus entirely on the precise movements of her wrist and fingers as she rolled and flourished the duster's wooden handle like a conductor's baton. "You think you do, but that's just another lie you tell yourself to justify your denial of the very thing you so desperately want."

The sharp, snorting breaths flowing from my nostrils blew whisps of her golden hair across her shoulder. A terse, "Fuck you," escaped my lips in between tight, controlled breathing.

"You could fuck me," she replied softly. "Any time you wanted. You could have me in any way your body and mind and heart desired. I would let you fulfil your deepest, darkest fantasies with me. Things you've never dared speak to anyone else about. Forbidden acts of depravity so terrifying to contemplate, you hide them even to yourself. I would happily endure them all, just so you could know their pleasure."

I cried out, as much from the excruciating torture of my cock as her tantalizing words. I didn't want to hear them. More lies and more manipulations. She wanted to control me, utterly and completely. She knew exactly what to say, exactly the phrases I desperately wanted to hear. Her words a cast spell to capture my mind. She leaned closer, her cheek touching mine.

"I know you," she whispered, "because I've searched for you my entire life. A ferocious, brutal lover, unrestrained by all convention. I've seen your power. I've felt it. In the bathroom that day, you came closer to breaking me than any man ever has. It took all my strength, every ounce of my will, to resist you, even though every part of me wanted desperately to submit. To give in to you. But I didn't, and do you know why?"

I squeezed my eyes shut as tears streamed down my face. I didn't know when I began to scream, a piercing shriek that ripped at my soul. The anguish I felt surpassed anything I'd experienced before, but only because of the torment of her words. Those piercing, barbed words. I shook my head violently from side to side, trying to expel them from my mind.

"No!" I screamed.

Her lips touched my ear, her voice so breathy it sounded ethereal. "Because of you. Because you needed me to be strong for you. Because you needed me to withstand your punishment, and allow you to journey to the furthest reaches of your savagery. To test you to your limits the way no woman ever has before. But, even now, I can see that you have more within you. There are still areas unexplored where you yearn to go, but you've never found a woman with the strength to travel there with you. Until now. Give in to me. Submit to my will, and I'll journey with you to the ends of oblivion."

Everything went dark.

I came to, alone and naked on the concrete floor. Erin had gone, but my clothes and bag laid next to me, my keys and phone resting on top. I had no concept of how long I'd been out, but a quick check of my phone showed it to be minutes at most. I looked at my hands. Red and purple bruises and abrasions, like macabre bracelets, ringed each wrist. I dressed as quickly as I could, pulling on a dirty shirt from my bag, and got to my feet.

Based on the dull ache in my groin, my unfulfilled climax still roiled like magma just below the surface, and the tip of my cock felt as if it had been attached to a car battery. Then I remembered my SUV and stumbled out of the garage to the side of the house. When it started at the first push of the button, my suspicion that Erin had already recharged the battery long before our encounter was confirmed. I shifted into drive and, for the first time in almost five days, drove off the Mitchell's property.

I rode in silence, slack faced, eyes unfocused, my only companions the muffled road noise and Erin's alluring words echoing in my mind. As my full attention turned increasingly to the events in the garage, my grip on the leather steering wheel tightened until my knuckles turned white. I became so lost in thought, so utterly consumed, that I failed to notice my excessive speed until I flew by a car doing over one hundred. I slowed and engaged the cruise control.

For the first time since I'd met her, I knew exactly what Erin wanted. As clearly and definitively as I'd ever known anything in my life.

"They're new," she'd said. "They just started up, but they'll improve with time."

She hadn't been talking about the whiskey that day in the den. She'd been talking about the two of us. She and I.

Erin had been searching for her equal.

She needed a man capable of pushing her to the extremes of her desires, the way she had pushed me into this entire affair with her and her daughter and her daughter's friends. A counterpart with whom she could conquer the vast, unexplored frontiers of her own sexual gratification and depraved proclivities.

But for as long as she had searched for someone who could match her voracious sexual appetites, she'd never once been interested in finding a true partner. No desire for a companion who would equal her in any way save one. An equal in capability.

And as great a price as she'd be willing to pay in her quest for this mythic man, no matter what else in her life she would have to destroy or discard to be with him, she would never relinquish control. Perhaps they'd discuss the possibilities of where they could go together, but in the end, they would always travel Erin's line. The course that she alone would determine.

Submit to my will, she'd said, and all these things will be yours. Stop denying yourself. Give in to me.

As mile after mile of black tarmac raced beneath me, I chewed over this idea incessantly until a countervailing thought bullied its way into my mind. What if I'm wrong? What if everything she'd said had been a lie?

For two days, I'd lectured the girls about the sexual manipulations of men, and how they would do or say anything to get what they wanted. Erin could just as easily be doing the same to me. This could be one long setup to bend me to her will for the sole purpose of notching her belt. To show that her sexual dominance and manipulative abilities were still as powerful as they'd ever been.