Tortured Souls: PunishmentbyRedFenix©
Disclaimer: *sigh* They aren't mine....but a girl can wish, can't she? Comments/Feedback are appreciated and welcome.
His strong, unyielding hands traveled along her back, and over her shoulders. She sighed as his hands kneaded a knot of tense muscles in her upper left arm and then continued on down, stopping only when he clasped her hands in his. He leaned forward pressing his bare chest against her back, pressing her into the mattress and laid his lips against her neck, exhaling slowly. She tensed as his warm breath sent a flurry of shivers racing down her body. He chuckled and she shivered again at the vibrations. "Shit Logan, c’mon." Jean hissed out, but the smile on her face betrayed her real feelings. Deep inside she was elated that he had come to her again. After their fight a few nights ago, she was sure their sexcapades were over and done with. He lifted her hands up over her head without a word and pressed them against the brass tubing at the foot of her bed. He slid both of her wrists into one of his hands and shifted his weight to one knee. She strained to see behind her when his weight lessened on her and he reached under the bed for something. A strip of white cloth entered her peripheral vision and quickly disappeared behind her and Logan shifted his weight back on top of her.
She turned her head quickly back and forth, trying frantically to discover just what in the hell he was doing. Soft white satin brushed her cheek as he leaned forward and released her hands. He quickly replaced the vise of his hands with the silky soft satin of the scarf. She struggled against him, trying to overbalance him, but he leaned down and sank his teeth lightly in her neck, silently ordering her to be still. She growled softly at him, but stopped her movements. Before she could even begin to think about another way to dislodge him, she realized her hands were bound tightly to the foot board. She struggled against the bindings but realized she was just rubbing her wrists raw and not accomplishing much else. She relaxed and buried her face in the mattress, breathing back her own warm, moist air. He shifted his weight and she shivered at the breeze that wafted across her skin at his departure. The mattress squeaked softly as he pushed himself completely off the bed.
"Are you going to leave me here like this?" she questioned as she lifted her head, trying to shift around so she could see him. "Yeah." He quietly made his way over to the corner and picked up one of her solid wooden chairs and set it near the foot of the bed. He bent over and grabbed his jeans that he had carelessly tossed over the edge of the bed a half hour ago. He slipped them over his hips, but left them unbuttoned and unzipped. Logan ran his hands through his hair, tousling it even more than it was, and lowered himself into the chair. He sighed heavily and dropped his hands so they rested on his thighs and stared at the figure on the bed.
Jean stared back at him as she struggled with the silk, but the silk stretched and tightened on itself, causing her to only make her situation worse. She gave up again, and tried to blow the hair that had fallen across her face, out of the way. "What the hell is going on?" Logan said nothing; but simply kept staring at her. She noticed a slight nod of his head, but he remained silent. She groaned in frustration and buried her face in the sheets. What in the hell was he trying to pull? She vowed that he was going to pay for this when she managed to figure out a way to get herself free. She was going to be sure to give that asshole a shit load of payback and -.
Her thoughts froze in her head as a pair of hands closed over her ankles and slid over her smooth skin. Jean jerked her head up, and from between her tied arms, she saw Logan still sitting in the chair. "What the fuck?" She pushed her left hip into the mattress and moved to flip herself over. Calm, deft hands closed over her upper thighs and pushed her back to her face down position. She struggled against them, but they held their grip firmly. Jean relaxed and halted her struggling. "What are you up to Logan?" she hissed out vehemently at him and he sat silently in the chair, unmoving.
The hands pushed down, gripping her thighs tightly and the bed shifted as the hand’s owner put their weight on the bed. The hands loosened their grip on her and slid around to skim over her bottom. She felt the hands lift away from her and close over her ankles, sliding her legs apart. The smooth skin slid back over her bottom and despite the uncertainty of the situation, she found herself inhaling sharply as a few fingers skimmed between her legs as they passed over her. Her fingers wrapped around one of the brass tubes and she felt her knuckles going white in frustration and anger. The hands slid up around her waist and lifted her hips slightly, forcing her to leave herself open and exposed. Fingers skimmed over her again and she narrowed her eyes at Logan. He sat, staring at her. His eyes unblinking and void of emotion.
Dammit, tell me something. She screamed at him through her mind, but found herself slammed against a mental brick wall that he had erected. "Shit." She growled at as the fingers probed more firmly and she buried her face in the linen once more. Arousal bit deeply despite her anger at Logan, and she felt warmth radiating up her body, originating from where the finger slide over the slickness between her legs. A single finger pushed forward slightly and she gasped at the strange intrusion as it entered her. The finger retracted until just the tip remained in her, and slid forward again. After a few moments, another finger was added. She fought against the wave of desire as the fingers thrust in and out of her. Not willing to give in and surrender to a complete stranger. Surely Logan would stop this madness at any moment.
The fingers kept up their unrelenting rhythm, and to her surprise another finger was added and she felt her muscles relax, willingly accepting the new addition. Her body seemed to have taken over and she had lost all control of it. Logan sat watching the activities on the bed, keeping his face clear of any emotions. Jean raised her head, staring daggers into him. A few strands of hair fell over her eye and she shook her head slightly to clear her vision. Then suddenly, without warning, her face changed. The darkness and the anger were gone from her eyes. The surface of them now glassy, her eyes unfocused and unable to see him clearly. The room faded to black around Jean and she knew she had lost her battle. Three fingers slammed in and out of her at a pace that was torture. Not even the most valiant would be able to resist. Her vision reduced to a small pin-prick then exploded and she involuntarily gasped out in surprise. Her chest arched against the sheets and the silk bit into the skin at her wrists and her body tensed almost instantly after the first orgasm. Another orgasm punched through her viscously, without warning. She cried out in surprise again and buried her face in the sheets once more, groaning as the onslaught continued.
The fingers continued and despite her two releases already, she felt her muscles tightening for another. She raised her head and glared at Logan as the third orgasm exploded in her. Despite her body’s release, the fingers continued pounding into her. She buried her face in the sheets once more and willed her body to calm. The brass footboard shook in her hands and her head shot up to see Logan standing over her, gripping the top piece of brass tightly in his hands. The owner of the hands seemed undeterred that Logan was standing over the bed, his appearance only strengthening their resolve to drain her body of all its energy. Again. The single word crashed into her mind, and through the fog in her brain, she realized it was Logan. She also realized the footboard was shaking and saw his knuckles were turning a vivid white, his arms shaking with effort, trying to main control.
The fingers slammed into her, seemingly filled with new resolve seeing Logan standing nearby. Her muscles betrayed her, and knotted fiercely, determined to do as they may. A fourth orgasm pounded her, wave after unending wave washed over her and she felt as if she were floating. Her body peaked over and over, her control worn away and she lost count of each crest.
A scream echoed somewhere in her head, and she was vaguely aware that it was her own voice. Jean collapsed heavily against the mattress, her muscles spent. Her body unable to handle anymore. The fingers slowly withdrew themselves and she sighed softly. The bed shifted and the stranger was gone.
Logan pried his hands off the brass and reached down to release the silk. Jean’s hands fell to the bed, lifeless and she groaned softly as her shoulders protested as she tried to shift. Grimacing, she slowly raised herself to her knees and ran her hands over her face and through her hair. Her body shook from spent energy and she reached out to the foot board to steady herself. Jean slowly raised her head and saw Logan staring back at her. Her eyes grew wide in surprise when she saw his eyes were glazed over and wet. She lifted her hand to his cheek and started as a tear slid down his cheek. "What the hell was that?" she whispered, dropping her hand down to cover the ones he had set back on the top of the footboard.
He jerked his hands our from under hers and pushed himself roughly away from the footboard, angry with himself. Jean simply stared at him as he walked over towards her door and yanked the door open with such force, she was sure the door would be ripped from its hinges.
He whispered one single word that she barely heard as he slipped out of the door, slamming it behind him and making her jump.