Voyeur Ch. 09

But his point had been made, and the car was grimly quiet for a long time.

*****

Ray managed to get Rachel naked without brute force, but substantial physical coercion was required to coax her onto the padded table. Though Rachel reluctantly cooperated when Ray stripped her clothes off, she vigorously debated the cuffs.

But Ray cheerfully insisted and managed to secure her in a bent over position, one limb at a time to the table legs. It was only when Rachel saw the gag coming that she loudly objected. The noise didn't last long.

"There, hon." Ray indulgently stroked her hair, oblivious to her distressed whining against the black rubber filling her mouth. "It's going to be fine. You look wonderful. I'll be right back."

Ray perused his collection of medical supplies, exercise equipment and other assassin paraphernalia until he found a very powerful neck massager he used for muscular strains.

Though advertised as a 'massager', it looked exactly like a sex toy and the retailer clearly intended to hit a double audience. When making his purchase, Ray noticed the area was female-dominated, with a large group of giggling girls browsing the same product range.

The fawn-coloured piece was the size of a giant remote control, with a bulbous, textured head at the end of it.

'Let's see if we can't get you there, Rachel,' Ray thought snidely.

Returning, he quietly observed his captive, her smooth body presented for him, taut with fear and discomfort. He didn't lie before; she did look wonderful. Her fair skin shone with nervous perspiration; a beautiful glowing lustre. Ray wanted to get naked and tangle with her in bed; touch and taste every inch of her. But he was a patient man.

Ray knew he could have seduced her without going to these lengths. But the deflection tactic pissed him off. Whilst he enjoyed their battles thus far, Ray didn't appreciate the attempt to undermine him when it directly concerned his desires. He wanted to teach her a lesson.

Sensing his presence, Rachel uneasily pulled against the cuffs and arched to look at him. Ray watched pale-pink nipples come into view; fully erect from contact with the table and the slight chill through the house. She wouldn't be cold for long.

Ray plugged the device into the wall socket. Moments later, it came to life with an ominous whirr. Satisfied it worked, Ray switched it off again.

"Relax, Rachel."

Now associating the reassuring word with bad things, Rachel shook her head and squeaked pleadingly around the gag. Ray crouched behind her and spat on her pussy, then on the head of the 'massager'.

Peering closely, he spread her soft lips explicitly wide, lightly resting the device against her elusive clit. When he did, he heard Rachel's muffled shout; her thighs lurched against the table legs to no avail. Ray pressed the implement against her little pink nub and switched it on.

Rachel jumped with a shrill squeal, her body jerked all directions, but she couldn't evade the intense buzzing. It was so powerful; the thrum of the device encompassed her entire pussy, ass and inner thighs.

It took twenty seconds for her clit to spark and throb, sending a sharp tremor of pleasure through her body. Rachel emitted a muffled yelp and arched, fighting to lessen the pressure. Ray removed the massager.

"Not bad," he smiled, leaning in to trace her shaking pussy with a cheeky lick.

Rachel tightly closed her eyes, recovering. But they flew open when she felt the pressure return; smooth matte viciously humming right against her swollen clit.

"NAUHHH!" she cried, twisting against the table. This time, it took just under a minute for the second orgasm.

The third climax was explosively unpleasant.

"Wow, you're really juicing now, hon," Ray observed, gently stroking her trembling flesh with his fingertips and grinning when she yowled at his touch.

"I just want to make sure you're wet and ready for me. You know, so my big cock doesn't hurt you."

Rachel's eyes slowly closed with horror as his meaning became apparent. This was Ray's way to call 'bullshit' on her rejection.

"URRHHH! NNHHHH! AURRR!" Rachel suddenly screamed, her wrists and ankles bruising as she strained against the cuffs.

There was no excitement; no gentle build-up. It was like electric shock therapy - the most intensely uncomfortable pleasure she never knew existed, and there was no way to stop it. It was torture.

Ray ignored her cries. Those screams, he could handle.

Wishing she could beg him to stop, Rachel groaned with frustration, then wailed against the gag as her body strained through a fifth orgasm.

Thighs aching from crouching, Ray got to his feet, satisfied by the small puddle of Rachel-juice dripping down her mound and pooling under her. Her overstimulated and too-satisfied pussy was very pink, engorged and deliciously glistening.

Ray came to stand before her, watching her pitifully gasp against the gag. It was strange forcing pleasure on another person. A whole new experience that he was rather glad for feeling compelled to orchestrate.

He'd never done anything sexually forceful with a girl, they flocked his way willingly. Of course, the one girl who reeled him in had to be unwilling. Life was unfair, but he knew that already.

Sobbing and humiliated, Rachel finally raised her head, her eyes pleading.

"Again?" Ray softly offered, cradling his new weapon of triumph. Without breaking eye contact, he licked the wet surface and smiled.

Heaving and tearstained, Rachel desperately shook her head. She felt soaked, exhausted, dehydrated and her body ached. Her clit burned.

"You think I can get into that tight little pussy now?" Ray questioned.

Rachel's head eagerly bobbed; her eyes rolled back and closed in a silent prayer. Ray bent until their faces were centimetres apart.

"Open your eyes, hon."

She did; the blue tones shone bright with mute appeal.

"If I take out the gag, will you kiss me?"

Rachel nodded, a broken sob blubbered past her drooling lips and more tears dripped down her face.

"Good girl."

The gag was unfastened, and Rachel drew a shuddering breath of sweet air when the obstruction vacated her mouth. Her chin was layered in saliva and tears, but indignity was the least of her problems.

Ray crouched before her, wiping her tears and drool with a handcloth. Then his lips were there; waiting to immediately test her acquiescence. After a cute hiccup that made Ray smile, Rachel forced herself to stop crying and bravely leaned forward with parted lips.

"Very good," Ray mused, flicking her bottom lip with his tongue. Then he gently kissed her, his eyes still open.

Rachel bleakly stared back, discerning an oddly fascinated glint in Ray's eyes, a mix of cruelty and desire.

Ray also registered that Rachel unlocked something in him; something thrilling with an essence of exquisitely sexual supremacy. It was bad, and he liked it.

But it had to be with Rachel; it was the build-up of infatuation coupled with rare circumstantial aspects that made the perfect scenario impossible to recreate.

Ray knew plenty about sexual obsessions, probably a third of his gigs had something to do with a spurned or hopeful lover. He never understood the fixation, the importance of it; the feeling you might get from one particular person looking back at you. Now, he knew.

"I want to bring some things to your attention." Ray spoke huskily against her tear-stained cheek and ran his hand through her hair to caress the nape of her neck.

"I've never hurt you," he began. His hand moved sensually along her skin; consolingly.

"I've never wanted to. I've been conscious of your comfort, your pleasure and your safety. I get you're unhappy with the situation, but you can't deny I've only ever treated you with kindness. I'd go so far as to say caring."

Not daring to voice her thoughts in such a vulnerable position, Rachel sniffed in clear disagreement. There was something in Ray's tone that suggested she should feel honoured by his attention, but it only roused resentment. Kidnapping aside, she could never be happy with a murderer.

Ray noted her stubborn reaction. His voice took on a stern edge "Look at me."

Rachel reluctantly met his eyes.

"You're a pretty crier," Ray murmured a thoughtful observation that seemed very ominous for the future. "That's a rarity."

Then he went to find a condom. A minute later he was back, much too soon in Rachel's opinion, and positioned himself behind her.

"So fucking wet," he purred, circling her tingling entrance with his bare cock and watching her body shudder with fearful anticipation.

It felt like dipping his tip in luxurious oil, her juices seeped so thickly. Gently gathering some of her wetness, he massaged it along his shaft, slickly coating his cock before sliding the condom over it. It was the closest he'd feel to fucking her unprotected.

"Oh, hon, look at you. I'm so glad we could resolve this problem together."

Then Ray pushed inside her; his thick, invasive girth slid forward like a knife through warm butter. Rachel's sex felt luxuriously cushioning; puffy from so much attention. It made her tunnel feel strangely tighter and more accommodating at the same time.

Rachel whined into the padding and Ray groaned with delight. He'd wanted to take her from behind since the beginning, not necessarily like this, but it was a start.

Ray wasn't a huge BDSM fan; his preferences ran toward steamy vanilla encounters, like their very first time. It was only fun now because he was making a point.

Slowly buried to the hilt, Ray paused to squeeze her tight ass and spread her cheeks so he could see how deeply they joined together. Then he moved his hands up her back, and down again to settle on her waist in a firm grip.

Suddenly, her pussy reacted; this time to being stretched, as opposed to buzzed. It felt more comfortably satisfying than the other oversensitive orgasms. The gentler sensation of being filled with Ray's cock was preferable to the wand pressure. On the whole it was a small, fizzling after-orgasm, but Ray still felt it lightly ripple across his shaft.

"That's my girl," he breathed, sounding slightly intoxicated.

Ray's intimate thrusts were insulting. He made love to Rachel's immobilized, restrained figure, as though she gifted herself to him.

For Rachel, an irksome full feeling followed every time Ray's cock entered her. The worst part was when his balls lightly slapped her engorged clit. His hands were constantly stroking, touching, kneading; silently signalling that he adored her body. Ray bent forward, his hard chest flush against her back, sliding his hands under to cup her breasts that had no choice but to fall perfectly into his waiting hands.

Then he increased tempo and Rachel whimpered as the table rhythmically shifted under their weight. Ray was grunting, fondling her breasts as though he'd never touched flesh so soft and firm. The touch made his cock occasionally jump inside her with fresh thrill.

As Ray continued to fuck her from behind, Rachel felt like they were animals in the wild. No, worse. Years ago, she'd read about a horrific experiment where a tame monkey, raised in captivity, was forced into a contraption that mimicked a mating invitation. Then a wild male was introduced and left with the frightened female trapped in a sexually submissive position.

Rachel believed she might know how those helpless animals felt. The bitter comparison seemed right on point when Ray's teeth unexpectedly sank into her neck.

"Owww! P-Please, Ray, don't bite me! It hurts!" she winced, uselessly trying to pull away.

One of Ray's hands tweaked her nipple and smoothed up her neck. He gripped her chin and guided her look back at him.

"Then kiss me, properly." Ray's voice lustfully quivered as he panted the order, with an evident threat of prolonging the event. "Do it, hon, and I'll cum, I fucking swear I will! Come on!"

Rachel needed no more encouragement, and eagerly kissed him. She moaned against his searching tongue, extended her own and arched back as though she couldn't get enough of the thick cock relentlessly pumping her.

"Oh, Rachel," Ray groaned against her lips, slowing his thrusts.

Petrified his easing down was a sign of endurance, Rachel's mouth moved hungrily; she teased his lower lip with a soft pinch of her teeth. Ray groaned louder, his cock swelled and flexed inside her and began to withdraw. Out of her mind with desperation, Rachel thrust back before he fully vacated her, gently sucked his lip and moaned around it.

The alluring, sultry sound zinged from Ray's mouth right down to his balls. Frozen in place so his lip stayed between her teeth, Ray went rigid as his orgasm surged forward. His cock strained and pulsed snugly in Rachel's moist, clenching walls.

Even through the condom Rachel felt every forceful spurt of Ray's cum, counting them, right up to seven. Ray held position; his eyes shut with pained intensity. Finally, he breathed a deep sigh of relief, his eyes glittered with satisfaction as Rachel released his lip and collapsed against the table.

"Please, take it out," she whispered against the cool padding, and Ray slowly obliged.

One by one, her sore limbs were freed from restraint. For half a minute she lay there, feeling completely sapped of strength but glad it was over. Ray's hoarse chuckle sounded nearby; a triumphant, after-sex chuckle that added a few cherries atop Rachel's proverbial cake.

"Come on, hon. I think another nap is in order."

On this rare occasion, Rachel agreed with him, since she didn't think she could walk. Ray gently gathered her into his arms, her head lolled despondently against his chest while he carried her. He was still heavily panting; his heart steadily thumped by her ear.

The tiniest silver lining was that Ray seemed set on calling her either 'Rachel' or 'Hon'. Thankfully he didn't taint the multitude of pet names Ben had for her. It was a small mercy.

Rachel was even more physically and emotionally strung out than the previous day. Back in bed, she was pulled tightly against Ray's chest; he seemed to favour that position.

Then Rachel did the only thing she seemed to be good at these days; she cried herself to sleep. Her tears dampened Ray's skin while the steady rise and fall of his chest lulled her. Ray's hand moved indulgently through her hair, his fingers idly massaged her scalp until she fell asleep.

*****

An hour later, Rachel opened her eyes and moaned miserably, realising she was back in a living nightmare.

"What is it, hon?"

Of course, Ray was awake. It was like he had some kind of silent alarm that ensured he was conscious before her. It seemed a petty desire, but Rachel sorely missed her 'alone time'. At least, she would like to wake up without being physically tangled with a man she severely disliked.

"Nothing," she mumbled.

"Aw." Ray's arms closed around her. "Let's have a shower, then I'll make a snack."

"I'm not hungry."

"You will be."

"Ray..." Rachel forlornly wriggled from Ray's arms, managing only because he allowed it. "I'm really struggling with this."

Ray calmly watched Rachel wring her hands with angst, his expression neutral, as though she hadn't made a point. "And?"

"And..." Rachel swallowed. "I want...I want to sleep downstairs."

She knew Ray wasn't dumb; that he knew exactly what was wrong with the fucked-up situation. But he was also in her face every second of the day.

Ray thoughtfully pursed his lips at her request. "I'd prefer you sleep up here, with me."

His tone was final. It was more a conclusion, than a statement of preference.

Overruled. Rachel pouted bitterly. "I want to do the photos to clear Ben."

"I told you, an investigation lasts-"

"I want to do them now," Rachel bluntly interrupted in an uncharacteristic show of defiance.

Rather than take offence, Ray seemed intrigued by her attitude. "Oh? In a hurry?"

"I love him," Rachel blurted. Her voice broke, tears brimmed, but she soldiered on, briskly wiping the tears as they flowed. "You win, Ray. I don't want to be found."

Ray watched her impassively.

"I can't relax, when I'm worrying about Ben," she finished, when he didn't comment.

It was true. To wish for rescue would be pure selfishness. Whilst Rachel quietly mourned that her loved ones would never have closure, she would never endanger them with the risk of Ray turning up. Ray quite easily snatched her from a private apartment, and she could never forget his simple threat to kill Ben.

The flittering fantasies of rescue were just that -- fantasy. She couldn't live her life wondering if Ray might show up with a gun and kill her parents, or Ben. Ray had demonstrated his threats were not idle. He was a killer, and very comfortable with it. And for whatever reason, he'd fixated on her.

The best she could do is help Ben from a distance, so he'd have his old life back. Then she would exist indefinitely under Ray's reign until his or her life ended. The conclusion was heart wrenching, but it was the best outcome she could surmise at that point.

The soft amusement in Ray's eyes had turned rather steely. He didn't like that first part, at all. Nor did he like the fact it bothered him.

"I see." With a cool smile, he shifted to the end of the bed and took Rachel's hand. "Shower time."

Under the spray of hot water, Ray seemed indifferent to Rachel's nudity, except for the very stiff erection pointing from his body to occasionally brush her hip. He was also quite dedicated to ensuring her breasts were adequately soaped up, though relented when Rachel begged to wash her lower body herself.

Twenty minutes later Rachel found herself back in the teal pyjama set, nervously waiting on a kitchen stool while Ray made brunch.

Ray pursed his lips at his pantry, wishing he'd bought chives. Then again, it didn't matter if the meal wasn't to his usual gourmet standard. Rachel wouldn't remember it. Once the Ditzer took effect, she'd be lucky to string an entire sentence together.

Whilst the drug was designed to get answers without physical brutality, Ray didn't want answers. He wanted action. And the way she was steadily declining into some kind of depression would put a damper on their sex life. Ray completely understood her feelings, but they were no less inconvenient.

Once again stooping to a new level of low, he felt the move was justified. Rachel pissed him off when he shouldn't give a shit. But for some infuriating reason, he did. The fact only made him angrier. If drugging her was what it took to wipe that other guy from her mind, even for less than an hour, he was going there.

Ray calmly watched Rachel's fork waver in her hand, then bounce from the table and loudly clatter to the floor.

"I..." she stared at the utensil on the ground, struggling. "I..."

Her head jerked up, realising Ray stood beside her.

"I feel weird," she mumbled, allowing him to lead her by the hand up the stairs to his bedroom. Her legs worked, but also felt like they didn't belong to her. She wondered if she was going into shock.

"Here, put these on."

Rachel robotically accepted the silky material from Ray and held it in a loose grip.

"Why?" she slurred.

"Because they'll look incredible on you," Ray answered in a heartbeat. "It's for Ben."

Ben.

Rachel numbly stared at the lingerie. Welcome to prostitution 101.

She surprised herself with a giggle. Somehow, the wretched situation was suddenly funny. Sitting back on the bed, Rachel leaned back, clumsily lifting a beige stocking to her toes. Then she closed her eyes and tumbled onto the mattress.

Large hands touched and maneuvered her limbs; sheer, silky material coated her skin. It felt nice. It felt out of place. The air stimulated her chest, exposed as the buttons of her shirt popped open one by one. Warm lips briefly fastened around the peak of one breast. Rachel whimpered; her eyes still closed.