The Scene of the Crime Ch. 05

I met his gaze, my eyes widening as I tried in vain to pull away. "No," I gasped, my voice still tinged with pleasure. "Please, you can't!"

I knew what he was going to say, even before he said it, as I'd heard my girls tell him the same thing.

"I can," he said. "I just shouldn't."

He pushed forward slowly. Each stroke pushed him just a bit further inside, his cock opening me up. I could feel my lips spreading wider to accommodate him, feel his presence stretching my wet pussy. His hair prickled my smooth, struggling legs as he moved between them, his cock pressing gently but firmly into my depths.

We stared into each other's eyes as he entered me. I cried out, outrage and pleasure in my tone, and stared pleadingly into his eyes. He groaned in unalloyed pleasure as he entered me, his mouth wide, his eyes threatening to roll back in his head.

"Oh, Miss Martin," he moaned, as I felt him bottom out inside me, his hips nestled against mine. "Oh, you feel so good."

"Let me go!" I moaned.

"I will," he replied. I felt him pull back and thrust, just beginning to explore my cunt. "You know that."

"Now," I gasped.

"No," he said. He lifted himself up a bit and watched my body open for him, his brown hair meshing with my auburn as he pushed our hips together. I followed his gaze, watching his hard cock slide inside me.

"I'll let you go once you get the climax you've been missing," he said, "And once I make sure you're pregnant."

"No," I moaned. "Please. I don't want to get pregnant."

He leaned in close, rubbing his nose against mine. He kissed me, delicately, his lips brushing against mine even as his cock pushed into me. I whimpered, unable to fight him off.

"A part of you does," he said. "That's why you watch me with the other girls and touch yourself. Because part of you has always wanted to know what it feels like, to have a man hold you down, and force himself on you, and leave his child in your womb."

I moaned. He wasn't wrong about my fantasies, but the reality was different. On the one hand, there were more sensations than I'd imagined, but on the other hand I'd be left with the consequences if he filled me.

"And since part of you wants this," he groaned, "and all of me wants it too, I might as well satisfy most of us."

He was certainly working at giving my body what it wanted. He was almost methodical in his explorations, watching my reactions as he adjusted his pace, his angle, his depth. I had seen him do this to the other girls but it hadn't prepared me for it. I struggled to keep my reactions to myself, but they forced their way out. Each gasp and moan that escaped my lips, each sudden twist of my arms or frantic kick, let him know that his efforts were working.

My blush had spread across my entire chest, and now refused to move. He lifted himself up once again, letting me see everything that was happening. My breasts swayed with his thrusts, my nipples shamelessly hard. My hips and legs twisted, trying in vain to squirm away from him. He moved slowly and methodically, his cock sliding deep into my helpless pussy, his hips rubbing against mine. I could feel his legs keeping mine apart, and feel his balls brushing against me.

I looked up. He held my wrists tightly but carefully, keeping me restrained without hurting me. My red hair spilled out around my shoulders. My freckles were disappearing as my skin flushed with exertion and arousal.

Finally, I looked at him, unable to look away any longer. I knew he wanted me to cum, that he wanted me to fall apart before he did. I knew it was futile to fight it, but I couldn't give in.

He stared back at me, with hints of his own pleasure visible in his expression. "You see how much you've needed this?"

I gritted my teeth. "I don't need this. Let me go!"

He shook his head. "I think you do. But we'll find out."

His pace refused to falter, continually pushing me toward my peak. I couldn't escape the pleasure any more than I could escape his grip, although it didn't stop me from trying.

"You've spent eight months thinking about this," he whispered. "Wondering what it would feel like, and seeing your girls' bellies get bigger, and touching yourself. Well, now you get to know."

I moaned. I could call him all sorts of things, but I couldn't call him a liar. I had been fantasizing about this the whole time. A part of me was ecstatic to have him holding me down, touching me this way, driving me to a climax and preparing to share his seed with me.

"But you can fight it if you need to," he went on. "That way you know it's not your fault. You know I made you do it."

He was going to make me do it, too. I wondered if he was capable of reaching his own climax without making his unwilling partner cum first, but the question would be moot before long. My body was desperately eager for a release. It wanted to come apart, to let go of the tension I'd been carrying since the first time I watched this man force one of my girls to cum for him and wondered what it had felt like. My body wanted to squeeze him, to thank him for ending my long run of celibacy and urge him to fill my womb with our child. My body wanted all of this so badly, and I couldn't fight him and it both.

"No," I gasped. I could feel the wave approaching, and I roared with the effort of trying to hold it back. I wasn't trying to get out of his grip any longer, just avoid giving him the satisfaction of seeing me cum, and it took every bit of effort I could muster.

"Yes," he murmured. "Oh, you are so beautiful." He leaned in and kissed me. "I bet I'll enjoy this recording almost as much as you will."

"No!" I gasped. Everything hit me in a rush. I realized that I'd have the tape of my own ravishment. I realized I'd watch this moment, again and again. I realized that I couldn't even show the police, since I'd confessed to my own illicit viewing of the tapes. I was caught, as helpless a member of his harem as all of the other girls. The knowledge was just enough of a distraction to tip me over the edge.

"No!" I repeated, as I felt myself fall past the point of no return. I twisted desperately in his grasp, my eyes going wide as I felt it coming. "Oh, please!"

"Yes," he whispered. "Do it."

It wasn't an immediate explosion of pleasure, like some of my climaxes. It was a slow burn, the pleasure rising up like a tsunami, flooding my pussy before overflowing into my every nerve. My back arched wildly. My toes curled. I cried out, and I couldn't tell what I was saying. I could feel my pussy squeezing his cock, my own pleasure urging him on.

The man caught my gaze, in the midst of my throes of passion, and neither one of us could look away. As much as I'd tried to avoid it, he was my only anchor amidst the storm of pleasure. I knew that he'd intended to watch every inch of my body through my climax, but once he saw my expression he had to stay. It wasn't remorse, exactly, but he knew he'd caused this storm and so he gave me what I needed to weather it.

I stared into his blue eyes until the pleasure began to fade. I gasped, finally realizing how much my body had demanded and how desperately it had wanted that pleasure. Like him, it was taking what it wanted, but like him, it shared its bounty with me.

"Oh," I moaned, a long, low sound of well-fucked defeat. He smiled back, and I felt him begin to pick up his pace.

Unlike the other girls, I didn't need a reminder of what he intended. I shook my head, silently pleading with him.

He leaned in and kissed me. "Oh, Miss Martin," he groaned. "Your pleasure is so beautiful. I'm glad I get to see it in person."

"Please don't," I whimpered. I looked away, glancing down at his hips as they drove his cock into me. I was still riding the high of my orgasm, but I could feel his pace rising; I could tell that he'd shifted his focus from my climax to his own.

"You're a good person," he said. "You take such good care of your people. I know you'll take good care of one more."

"No," I moaned. I didn't know what to argue with. I wasn't sure that I was truly good, unless I was being compared to him. I knew that I would take care of a child if I got pregnant, and I knew that my body still desperately wanted to. I was at his mercy, and I knew exactly how far that went.

"You will," he groaned. "Oh, you'll be so beautiful with a baby in your belly." He lifted himself up, and we both looked down - at his hard cock as he thrust it into my defenseless pussy, at my still-flat belly, at my breasts as they bounced with his rhythm. It was all going to change. He'd fill my pussy with his seed, and my belly would grow with our child, and my breasts would expand to feed it, and he'd be gone.

I could feel the tension rising in each part of his body, his muscles straining as he used me for his pleasure. I was exhausted, from my struggles and from my climax, and I knew I couldn't fight him off. I couldn't stop trying, although I couldn't be certain why. Was I struggling to fight him off because I wanted to stop him, or just because I had always struggled in my fantasies?

"Oh yes," he moaned, closing his eyes as he approached his peak. "Oh, Miss Martin."

"No," I moaned. I knew he wouldn't stop, but I couldn't help but struggle. "Stop!"

"I'm going to give your body everything that she wants," he panted. He was plunging into me now, his cock vanishing inside me with each stroke. I could feel him everywhere - his hands on my wrists, his legs keeping mine parted, his cock dominating me, his heart beating with mine. "I'm going to cum in your pussy."

"Stop!" I wailed, redoubling my efforts to break free.

"No," he groaned. "Not until I've knocked you up!"

I cried out. Even now, I can't tell you I it was out of outrage, or overwhelming pleasure, or some mixture of the two. But whatever I meant by it, he joined me, giving full voice to his lust. His voice rose, his intensity growing and growing until it finally broke.

He fell silent for a split second as he thrust his cock deep into me, then roared. I felt him twitching inside me, his body finally releasing its tension by flooding my helpless womb with his seed. I moaned along, my body's eagerness to receive him and carry his child pulling me forward.

We harmonized like this, as he filled me up. He thrust into me, calling out in ecstasy as each wave of his semen flowed deep inside my cunt, and I wailed along, unable to do anything but take it. Our bodies harmonized, too, united in their intent to make a new life inside me.

I couldn't take my eyes off of him. His eyes were shut, as the sensation overwhelmed him, but every detail of his climax was etched into his face. I understood why he watched each girl so closely; there was a primal beauty in everyone's climax, and I couldn't help but witness his. Each frantic thrust as he took his pleasure, and each minute twitch as he filled me, was accompanied by an expression that would never be repeated. The part of me that had been eager for him felt a perverse sense of pride, that I was able to provoke this reaction and see the joy I'd given him up close.

He collapsed on top of me as his climax waned, his sweaty chest pressed against mine. He gasped into my ear, moaning my name even as I felt the last pulses of his cock inside me. Even at the height of his climax he'd kept my wrists pinned without hurting me, and he still held them tight. His sperm were inside me, seeking out my egg, and he was keeping them trapped there for as long as he could.

Eventually he lifted himself up and looked at me. I didn't know what to feel, so I stared back up.

"You are lovely," he murmured.

I looked down. He wasn't lying, I realized. I was beautiful, and never more so than when I was doing what my body demanded. All of my girls were beautiful. In his own way, despite what he'd done to us, he was beautiful too.

He leaned back down and held me tightly. I don't know how long we spent like that, but the sun was well up and my opening routine was overdue before he rose up again.

"Take care of yourself," he said. "And of the girls. And of your baby."

I blurted out a response before I could think about what I was saying.

"Will I ever see you again?"

He hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. "Not in person," he replied. "One baby apiece is plenty. I'll leave your girls alone from here on out."

It may sound foolish, but I believed him.

"You'll have a baby to remember me by. And if you want, I'll keep in touch."

I frowned, but before I could make sense of his words, he pulled out. I gasped as his cock withdrew. He released my wrists and lifted himself up. Then, as he picked up his clothes, he leaned in and kissed me, one last time. He smiled, and walked out the back and was gone.

---

I got myself dressed and did my best to clean up the bed. I knew I ought to call the police, but if I did they'd see the tapes where I confessed to watching. So, I put on a spare pair of panties and tried to pretend everything was normal. By that point I was quite experienced at hiding my arousal at work, so no one caught on.

I did think about getting the morning-after pill. I was working with Ashanti and Isabella all day, though, and I kept thinking about my own belly swelling up like theirs, and getting wet all over again. I knew it was foolish and impractical, but I couldn't bring myself to quash the possibility.

So, once I'd closed up that night, instead of doing anything that a normal person would do, I pulled up my own video. I watched myself get ravished, and listened to the sounds we made, and jilled off until I'd exhausted myself.

I knew a reasonable person wouldn't act like this. But I wasn't hurting anyone. I was better off being happy, or at least horny, about what I couldn't control.

A week later, my body informed me that I should be expecting company in a few months. A hundred emotions washed over me - joy, anger, embarrassment - but horniness came out on top as usual.

In most other respects, things returned to normal. I tended to the shop, and took care of the girls. True to his word, the man left us alone, which was especially good since Georgia and Ashanti had their hands full when Georgia's baby arrived. I adjusted our schedules to accommodate their sleepless nights, and took care of myself.

Two months after my visit, I arrived home to find an email from an address I'd never seen before. The subject line said "Hello, Miss Martin. Shall we keep in touch?" I opened it to find a brief message.

I hope you and your girls are well, and all of the babies are healthy, it read. I mentioned that we might keep in touch, so I sent along a video I made recently. My co-star, Rochelle, was a delight to work with.

I glanced at the attachment. It was a video, nearly an hour long. The still image showed a young woman with curly brown hair standing in an independent mattress shop. I didn't recognize the shop or the girl, but I was pretty sure I knew how the video went.

If you like it, please send me a video showing how much you like it.

Hoping to hear from you soon,

Your gentleman friend

"Fuck," I whispered.

I considered my actions, at least for a moment. I knew it would be wrong to watch, but only as wrong as what I'd done so far. A part of me bristled at the thought of being pen pals with my ravisher, but I was already growing wet at the thought of the video. And if I shared with him, I'd likely get a new one every few months unless he got caught.

Nobody needed to know, I told myself. Perhaps I was debasing myself, but I wasn't hurting anyone else. I couldn't stop him, so I might as well get whatever I could from him. So I set my webcam to record, and faced the camera.

"You are not a gentleman," I said. I bit my lip, then caressed my left breast through my shirt. He wouldn't be able to see my baby bump, at least not yet, but my boobs were noticeably bigger. He would know that he'd knocked me up. I felt a flash of shame, but at this point it only colored my lust.

"Let me see just how ungentlemanly you are," I added, and hit play.

---

I want to thank SylviDoll for her editorial help.