Willing Victim Ch. 02

"MMmmm..." Your wordless reply sounded just as tired as mine. Snuggling against you, I wondered briefly if you would be there when I woke up before sleep overcame me. Dreaming of making love to you, I never felt my body being tied to the four poster bed, nor did I feel your tears land against my skin...

I awoke in the morning feeling wonderfully stiff. Every muscle in my body ached, reminding me of last night's incredible sex. I would like to call it love making, but unfortunately even I sometimes have to admit when a spade is a spade...

Realising that my muscles were even more stiff then normal, I tried to stretch, only to suddenly come jarringly awake as I discovered that I was tied, completely spread eagle, onto my bed. There was even a tie across my waist, holding me tight against the bed. Opening my eyes, I scanned the room, looking for you. Unable to see you I tried to listen for your movements, but all I could hear was the occasional bird chirping outside. Knowing you must still be inside the house, fearing you weren't, I wondered briefly what I should do. I would call out your name, but I had yet to learn it. Also, I didn't really know for sure where we stood, last night was amazing, but since this morning I was tied down, it kind of stood to reason that maybe you didn't trust me.

The smell of bacon wafting into the room unexpectedly eased some of my worries. Inhaling deeply, I could faintly smell coffee, as well as possibly cheese. Wondering what you were cooking, or why, I tried to imagine you naked, except for maybe my light green apron, cooking me breakfast. I couldn't help it, maybe it was the stress of the situation, but I broke out giggling.

When I finally managed to stop giggling, you were standing at the foot of the bed, wearing a pair of jeans, and carrying a plate filled with a giant cheese omelette, tons of bacon, & a stack of toast. The fact that you really did cook my breakfast, after everything else (especially tying me to the bed), made me nearly break out in giggles again.

"Are you always this cheerful of a morning person, or do I get some of the credit?" What obviously was supposed to be a devilish smile spread across your face, flashing off your dimples, completely ruining any 'devilishness' that otherwise would have been present.

"Would you believe me if I said I am always this cheerful?" It was a downright lie, I was almost always grouchy at least until noon, but I figured it would be bad for you to know the effect you had on me. Presuming of course you believed me, which was doubtful, since I can't lie worth a damn.

"Well, in that case I guess I didn't even need to try to cheer you up with breakfast in bed." Sitting down on the bed, you rested the plate on my stomach as you spoke.

I wasn't sure if I should mention it, but since it was pretty obvious, I felt the issue of my being bound may as well be dealt with now. "Well, umm...breakfast in bed normally doesn't include being tied down, to the best of my recollection."

Laughing slightly, you shrugged casually, seeming to almost dismiss my comment. "Well then, you haven't been having breakfast with the right people. I hope you like cheese omelettes..."

Not giving me a chance to respond, you brought a forkful of eggs to my mouth and proceeded to feed me. Stretching out on the bed, you fed me, taking the occasional bite, while we spoke of menial things. Once we had talked about the weather, a picture I had on the wall (a beautiful Ruth Thompson fire elemental picture named Ember), and how the local sports team was doing, we had almost completely finished breakfast. Well, at least the eggs were almost finished. The plate was still half full with a stack of bacon and about a third of the toast.

"So, now that I have experienced eating breakfast in bed tied up, would you care to untie me?" I tried desperately to make the question sound light and playful, but inside I was starting to get a bit edgy about the whole situation.

The silence that echoed across the room suddenly increased my anxiety even more.

"I can't."

With those two little words, I suddenly knew the breakfast had been something more than simply food. With a feeling of dread, I was suddenly reminded of every time my father had cooked for my mother to make up for something he had done wrong, trying to use food as an apology.

"Why not?" The words stuck in my throat, coming out so that I could barely recognise my own voice.

"I...you...you've seen my face, you could identify me...I..." your words trailed off, drowned out by the obscenely cheerful chirping of birds outside.

Trying to control my panic and the impotent rage that was beginning to build within me, I tried breathing deeply, remembering all of the self-control exercises that I had ever learnt.

"Do you really think after last night I could call it rape? Hell, even the first night was, well...urg! In case you failed to notice, I was thrusting against you just as much as you were thrusting against me last night..."

"You say that now, but later, once I'm gone, you'll change your mind. You'll regret this, regret me. Don't deny it." Your voice was angry, accusing, but under that, I swear I could feel pain and loneliness. Whether it was a figment of my over-active imagination or not, I had no idea, but I almost felt sorry for you for some reason.

I sat in silence, trying to consider your words carefully before replying. If you left right now, and after the memory of last night faded slightly, would I skew events until I believed you had raped me? Would I come to regret what had happened? I had known others who always cried rape when they broke up with a guy.

I couldn't believe that I would ever consider this rape. Although technically it was, for me I had experienced rape more from boyfriends trying to get me drunk and pressure me into sex than from the wildly passionate encounter we had. As for the issue of regret, I was a bit unsure about that. Although I had definitely enjoyed myself, I also prided myself on not sleeping around. I had once made myself a promise not to have sex with someone unless I loved them (even if the love was unrequited), and I had lived by that promise until now. With that in mind, I knew I must word my reply cautiously.

"I...I would never report you to the authorities. Although I might mention you to friends, I would lie and create a different way that we met. You can trust me."

"What about the whole 'never trust a person who says trust me?'" Your words mocked mine from last night.

"But I did trust you, didn't I?"

A frustrated sigh was your only reply as you put the half-empty plate on the bedside table. Returning to the bed, you laid down on top of me, covering my body completely. Your hands traced up my arms, slowly, until you reached where my hands were tied. Entwining our fingers, you silently stared at me, your eyes a pool of confusion.

Closing my eyes against your tormented green ones, I was unprepared when I felt your lips press urgently against mine, forcing your tongue between my teeth. Stealing my breath, you dominated my mouth thoroughly. When you finally drew back I was gasping for breath and could clearly feel your arousal through your jeans.

"This isn't going to solve anything." My words were a breathy whisper.

"Maybe not..." Your mouth covered mine again, ending all further possibilities of an argument.

I could feel you fumbling with your zipper as your mouth fought not to break contact. Finally cursing, you pulled away momentarily to shed your jeans and boxers. Naked, your mouth reclaimed mine, dominating it masterfully. Hampered by my ties, I fought against them, making my flesh raw.

Grabbing my arms, you held me still and stopped kissing me just long enough to say, "Stop that." Before fastening once again, trying to drown yourself in the taste of my mouth.

"Untie me." My voice was no less commanding than yours, or at least not much less commanding, as I struggled against your vice-like grip that held my arms even further immobile.

The feel of you plunging within me stopped all my arguments, as my body involuntarily arched against yours and a gasp was torn from my lips. Drawing back, almost completely out of me, you paused for a moment before plunging back into me. My already bruised body protested slightly at the abuse, but the pleasure drowned out any pain that I felt. You continued to slowly, teasingly, draw back and plunge deeply back in, then your thrusts became even slower, until you were moving at a snail's pace in and out of me. Rotating my hips, I silently entreated you to take me, to pick up the pace.

"Do you want me?" Your breath was hot against my ear as you paused, with only the very tip of you still inside of me.

"Yes." Unable to deny the truth with my body craving your touch, I admitted the truth without hesitation.

"Then ask me, say please."

This time I hesitated slightly, almost hating myself for the desperate need my body felt. In the span of just a few days, my body had become addicted to yours. "Please..."

You thrust into me deeply and quickly, answering my plea, before once again drawing back.

"Again."

"...Please..."

You once more rewarded me for asking. "Again."

"Plea-se." The force of your thrust made the word catch in my mouth, before you once again drew back, this time you almost slipped completely out of me before I whispered the magical word...

"Please. Please. Please. Please. Please." Each word was punctuated with your delicious body thrusting into mine. As soon as I stopped asking, you stopped thrusting though.

"Please. Please. Please. Please. Please." My voice was a well of need, filled by each taunting thrust.

"Oh God yes, how I love to hear you beg. To hear a woman beg, submitting to me like they should." Your mouth descended upon my neck, biting me, marking your territory.

Knowing suddenly that this was just a way of proving your dominance, while at the same time realising just how helpless I truly was, I felt tears begin to spring to my eyes.

"Keep begging me, or else." Your words were still said in that velvety voice, but this time the words were velvet ropes that were trying to imprison me.

"Please. Please. Please...please...please..." At some point in time my words had changed. I was no longer begging for more, I'm not sure exactly what I was begging for. I didn't really want you to stop necessarily since your body was still sending ripples of fire through mine, but it definitely was not more of your forceful mastery that I was asking for.

"Louder." Your voice was a harsh demand, showing no mercy.

"Please. Please. PLEASE. PLEASE!" I nearly screamed the words at you, letting all of my anger and frustration out in that one hateful word as you pounded into me.

This time when I stopped begging, your body pounded into me even more painfully, showing me your displeasure.

"Keep begging. Yes..."

"LOUDER!" Your voice was a nearly mindless scream against my heart, making me wince.

"Please..." Unable to hold onto my anger as pain completely overcame pleasure I was barely able to whimper the word as you thrust into me.

I could feel your body tightening as you neared your climax. With a feeling of relief, I began to say please in earnest, this time begging for your release so that you would stop. Your body hammered into mine, beginning to draw blood from my bruised and battered flesh. Unable to wipe away my tears, I continued to beg you please as you exploded within me.

As you drew out of me I closed my eyes, happy the ordeal was finally over. Unlike last night, or even the night before, I had received no pleasure, and I no longer even wanted any. Unfortunately, I was about to learn that what I want and what I received were two very different things.

"Wow...if that is how it is when you're tied up, I think I have to tie you up more often. That was wonderf..." Your words stopped abruptly when you saw the tears that were already beginning to dry on my face.

"What's wrong. Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" Your words were a frantic rush as a look of horror crossed you face at the sight of the spattering of blood across the bed and my lower body that also coated your penis.

Immediately you jumped off the bed, rushing out of the room before I could say a word. Mere moments later you returned with a damp cloth and began wiping me off. It wasn't until all traces of blood were washed off of me that you absently wiped the blood off of yourself.

"I am so sorry, you should have told me I was being too rough." Your lips gently lowered against mine, teasing against them, before your tongue licked at my lips playfully.

Unsure what to do, what to say, I wondered if you could have truly been oblivious to my pain and humiliation. In confusion I half-heartedly returned your kisses. My body was unwillingly on fire once again when finally you pulled away, breaking off the kiss.

"Listen, I don't want to hurt you, and that's where our kisses will lead. It's still early morning, so why don't you take a nap so you feel better hopefully, while I get rid of these dishes and clean up a bit, okay?"

Still feeling shell-shocked I was barely able to nod my head.

After kissing me softly on the forehead, you picked up the plate and left the room.

Despite being filled with renewed desire, I must have dozed off, because the feeling of your teeth brushing against my neck awakened me. Remembering our passionate sex last night first, as well as falling asleep with you beside me, it took me a few moments before I recalled the humiliation of our last sexual encounter. Despite that, I knew I couldn't fight you, even if I wanted to (which to some extent I did), because my body would betray me over and over again to your masterful touch.

Opening my eyes slowly, cautiously, the first thing I saw was your cat-green orbs looking straight at me. Unlike last night, when they glowed with passion's fire, they looked red and bloodshot. Your deliciously kissable lips were puckered in a slight frown, hiding all traces of the dimples I had knew existed. My apprehension quickly rising I stared mutely at you, waiting to hear whatever you had to say.

"I'm sorry, for everything..." You words echoed in the silence, shattering my foolish beliefs that maybe everything was going to be alright.

"...You knew when I took off the blindfold what I would have to do, later...I can't keep putting it off, as much as I want to." I could tell you were trying to explain, to justify, to somehow blame me for whatever it was you were about to do. I refused to think what it could be. I refused to think at all as I saw tears well up in your eyes.

"...I never meant for it to end like this...I didn't want to hurt you, but this morning I realised I already did, and if I spend any more time with you I'm afraid I will again."

If I hadn't been on the verge of crying or screaming I almost would have laughed. You weren't going to hurt me? Yes, I may have become willing last night, well maybe more than willing, but you broke into my room and forced yourself on me! How can you say you had no intention of harming me?!? And as for this morning, I still couldn't figure out how I felt about that. Beyond murder, there is nothing worse, nothing more hurtful, you can do to a woman than rape. Beyond murder...

Choking back a sob my thoughts came to an abrupt halt as I once again looked at your bloodshot eyes and felt your shaking hands caressing my cheek. As much as I didn't want to think what you were apologising for, I knew. I had seen your face and could now identify you to the police if I ever wanted to, and after you had hurt me this morning, you didn't trust me not to turn you in.

"No. Please, no..." Even to my own ears my voice sounded pitiful, weak, and annoying. I was hoping the word please would sway you, help you to show mercy. As your shaking hand stroked down my face, whispering across my neck, a gentle threat of either tenderness or violence, I shivered involuntarily and tried to pull away from your touch. Pulling your hand back as if I bit you, you stared at me silently for what seemed like an eternity.

"Close your eyes." Your voice wavered slightly, betraying your own weakness.

For the first time, I wondered if you had ever done this before. Had you ever raped a woman? Killed a woman? Or even a man for that matter? Wanting desperately to ask you, to know these details before it was too late, I instead just closed my eyes, feeling the darkness engulf me. As I felt your hands touch my neck, your long fingers wrapping themselves around it, a cold chill began to emanate from within my body, causing me to shake slightly in apprehension.

Knowing I couldn't, wouldn't, die peacefully I began to struggle in earnest against the ties that bound me to the bed, ignoring the feel of them cutting into my wrists.

Immediately your hands moved, and began to rub the sides of my arms soothingly, as if you were trying to warm me. Keeping my eyes tightly shut I stopped moving and tried to slip into my fantasy world. My rape fantasies had come true, so this was just the next dark step in my fantasy. Nothing bad was going to happen, this was just a threat, a joke, or a dream. Even if it was real you would realise your mistake and we would end up living happily ever after. As I repeated these childish thoughts over and over again to myself while you rubbed my arms soothingly I almost began to believe it was possible.

"Shit!" Once again you stopped touching me as if I had burnt you, although this time I felt the bed shift, signalling that you had jumped off of it.

"I have to use your phone." Your abrupt words faded as you walked out of the room.

Maybe you were hungry again and had decided to order a pizza? I began to giggle uncontrollably at the ridiculous thought - it was a ridiculous thought, right?

After a few moments of silence, I hear your voice once more. "You know that offer you made the other day...I'm accepting...Yeah, I'm serious...I want to control who the merchandise goes to...no...no...okay, maybe. Have a list ready in an hour...Yeah, I'll call you..."

As I listened to your side of the conversation, I wished I knew who you were talking to, or about what. Whoever it was, I guess the pizza idea was out of the question after all, which was too bad because if I hadn't been feeling nauseous, I probably might have been hungry again. All that exercise uses a lot of energy.

A bird chirping outside the window seemed strangely out of place as I strained to hear you, to see you. As if the bird knew its cheerful cries were unwelcome, it suddenly fell silent. Hearing your footsteps slowly approach from behind me I fought not to look at you, not to show you how scared I was becoming.

"What was that about?" I applauded myself silently as my voice emerged without a tremor to betray my anxiety. Sitting down beside me on the bed you refused to answer. Instead, our eyes met each other, each of us trying not to show their fear, their anguish. Despite the fact that I had only known you for two nights, I knew that you were upset by whatever battle was taking place within your mind.

Trying to use my eyes to beg for mercy, to demand mercy, I silently stared at you. Slowly stretching out, you swung your left leg over me until you had mounted me completely. As we sat in silence with you on top of me, I felt your penis begin to spring to life. Hoping that maybe if you allowed yourself to remember last night you would realise there was no need to hurt me, I began to slightly clench and unclench my lower body against you, hoping for a repeat of last night. Shifting, I felt the friction of my movement cause an even larger reaction in you. Boldly now I tried to arch my hips against my bindings, bringing your newly hardened shaft against my slightly moist entrance.