Dawn to Dusk


Day One, Part One

"Please don't!" My voice cracked, and I swallowed hard, trying to wet a parched, sore throat. "Please stop."

He laughed, a low rumble that held more growl than humor. "The day is not even close to being over."

Behind him, the westward facing windows of the high-rise condo showed a sun that slowly sank toward the horizon. It was high summer, with an early dawn and late sunset.

It had been a long time since dawn.

With the economy headed south, most of the condos in the new development remained unsold and empty. I lived on the 38th floor, and only two people lived above me, a couple on the 42nd floor. My next closest neighbor was on the 31st floor. So I was used to riding the elevator alone, or with just one other person.

But that Saturday dawn, Charles Manson could have been behind me and I wouldn't have noticed.

Friday night's last call had turned into an after hours club hop. By the time my girlfriends left me at the front door, my head spun and my feet hurt from dancing the night out in my stilettos. I had partied until my brain and mind were numb.

Sweat had stuck my long dark hair to my neck, and my short, little black dress, was torn off one shoulder. Even my 42DDs ached from the dancing and fondling. Other parts of my body were sore from being pinched, prodded and felt-up on a dance floor that had been wall-to-wall people. All of it had left me sweaty and slightly aroused, but all I really wanted was a bed and a shower.

What I got was quite different.

Two guys got on the elevator with me, and one got off on the 15th floor. I sighed and ran my hand through my hair as I leaned wearily up against the car wall. That's when the guy behind me grabbed my wrist, yanked it behind my back, and shoved me up against the wall hard enough to knock the breath out of me. I opened my mouth to yell, but he shoved a rag into my mouth and pulled a bag over my head.

I screamed, although it sounded more like a snuffle. Laughing, he bounced my head against the wall, hard enough to stun me. "No one can hear you, slut. Not now. Not later."

With a sudden jerk, he pulled wrists together behind me and handcuffed them together. The elevator stopped, and he spun me around, grabbed me under my ass, and slung me over one shoulder. We left the elevator and went into an apartment not far from it. I heard the door slam, then he draped me over something solid and flat. He stepped away, a lots of stuff rustled. I started to squirm, kicking my feet out.

After a moment, he pulled the bag from my head, slapping my face twice. "Fighting will only get you punished, bitch."

Gasping for air, I stared at him, then my surroundings. I was draped over what looked like a square bistro table, high and narrow, so that my head and breasts hung off one side and my legs the other. The next few moments were a blur as, with quick, harsh movements, he spread my legs and roped them to the legs of the table. He cut off my dress and panties and bra, then tied my elbows together, arching my back and making my breasts thrust forward. Tying my long hair into a pony tail, he bound it to the ropes on my elbows, pulling my head up.

He stood back to admire his handiwork. He wore a ski mask, but his eyes shone bright. "I've wanted to get you like this ever since I first saw you. People think you're so nice. You pretend like you're a classy lady, but I know you for what you really are."

He leaned close. "A fuck slut who loves to cum." My nipples had hardened in the cold apartment, and he pinched one between his fingers, gently at first, then harder, causing a sensation that was both pain and pleasure to shoot through my chest. I moaned, and he grinned. "I knew it. I'm going to make you beg to be fucked."

He stepped back and pulled the rag out of my mouth. My tongue was so dry I couldn't speak and I gagged. He grabbed both breasts, squeezing hard, rolling them together. His fingers clamped on the nipples again, pinching hard and pulling down, stretching them. A cry of erotic pain burst from my throat as I realized he was right. What he was doing turned me on, and my pussy began to swell, moisture building.

He switched to slapping my tits, gently at first, then harder, his broad palms landing in hard blows that burned and turned both orbs bright red. He paused and ran two fingers into my sopping wet cunt, laughing. "What a great whore you are!" He laughed, fingering me roughly, then slapping my ass. "You already want to be fucked, don't you?"

When I didn't answer, he hit my ass again. "Don't you, bitch?" Slap.

"Please stop!"

"Stop?" He pulled my hair, arching my back even more. "Did you say stop?"

"Yes," I whispered.

He released my hair and slid his fingers between the swollen lips of my pussy, spreading the increasing amount of juice over my clit. As it hardened, arousal speared through me and I could feel myself opening, wanting more. He rolled the bud between his fingers, and I gasped.

"This is not the reaction of a slut who wants to stop. You wanted to be fucked, don't you?"

"Yes," I whispered.



His fingers tightened and I screamed.

"Yes, what, slut!"

"Yes, I want to be fucked!"

He released me and I fought for air. He came around the table again. "But you know cum-sluts like you don't deserve to be fucked. They deserved to be punished."

Then he reached for a riding crop. Screams tore from me as the blows fell across my tits, shoulders, back, and ass. The pain was blinding. Tears streamed down my face, and when one blow hit my juiced and swollen pussy, my body rocked hard in the bonds, and again I begged him to stop.

"Stop?" He rubbed the flat end of the crop across my hardened clit. "If you really wanted me to stop, you wouldn't be so wet." He walked around in front of me. "And your nipples wouldn't be so hard."

Kneeling on a footstool in front of the table, he reached for my breasts and began sucking on one nipple, rolling it between his teeth and brushing his tongue against the sore bud. After the pain of the crop, it was exquisite, and I sighed. He moved to the other breast, licking and sucking, The wet pressure of his tongue as he flicked the nipple back and forth made my tits ache for more.

Then he pushed my breasts together tightly, pulling both nipples into his mouth at once. I moaned as pleasure shot through me on a new level, and I could feel the juices running from my cunt. Waves of raw desire swamped me as his teeth closed on both nipples at once, and a whispered, "More!" burst from me.

He stopped suddenly, and I gasped, my eyes open wide. He watched me, eyes gleaming. "I knew you were a delicious little whore. By the time I'm done, you're going to crave my cock like you crave water. Addicted to my cum. You will show up at my door every morning and every night and beg me to fuck you."

I tried to shake my head no, but he only grinned. Standing, he walked around to my ass, rubbing it with his palm. "You should see your cunt. Swollen and dripping like a slut in heat. I bet you could fuck every guy in this building and cum with every one of them." His fingers spread me, exploring every fold, rubbing my juices over everything.

After a moment, his tongue joined his fingers, sliding up and down, his teeth finding my tender clit. He licked and pulled, and my body quivered, on the edge of orgasm. "Please!" I moaned.

He stopped. "Please what?"

I gave in. "Please let me cum!"

His fingers closed on my clit, tugged at it, and I rocked in my bonds. "Not good enough," he said.

I swallowed hard. "Please fuck me.


"Please FUCK ME!"

Within seconds, I felt the head of his cock pressing against my pussy, easing in. He was larger, larger than any guy I had ever been with, and it stretched me tight as he pushed his full length in. I bit my lip as the pain mixed with the pleasure, and my body shook.

He laughed. "You love this big cock, don't you, whore?" He pulled out and shoved in deep, a hard thrust that made my tits bounce against the edge of the table. The pain of the stretching, his cock driving in harder and faster, was ecstasy. My orgasm rocked me almost immediately, my body jerking wildly in my bonds, a scream of pleasure echoing around the room.

His thrusts continued for a few more minutes, then he pulled out, and I felt the hot splash of his semen on my back, ass, and thighs. He roared as he came, animal-like and raw. As the sound died away, another one started, a low hum.

A vibrator. The hard plastic pressed into the sore folds of my pussy, and I whimpered. "Please, I can't do it again."

His laugh was low and cruel. "I'm just getting it wet. But I'm not about to let a slut like you rest. You need to be fucked. Every minute, every hole. And if you pass out, I'll fuck your face until you come around."

With that, he spread the cheeks of my ass and pressed the soaking vibrator against my anus.

I jumped. "No! I've never done that!"

"You will now." Pressing firmly, steadily, he slid the vibrator into my ass.

This time there was no pleasure, just pain. I screeched from the intensity, and tears sprang to my eyes. He ignored me, moving the vibrator in and out, twisting it as I cried out in pain. Finally satisfied with its increased vibration, he came around to my face.

"I said you'd beg to be fucked. I didn't say this would be over when you did. I might let you rest when dusk comes, but it's not even noon yet. We have a long way to go." Reaching toward a nearby table, he pulled a long, thin leather strap from among the instruments covering the top. He ran it through his fingers, and I could see how soft and supple it was.

"What's that?" I whispered.

"Part two." Grinning in anticipation, he reached for my right breast.

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