Chapter 11
Grace
The vibrations hit me by surprise, and with such force that I’m robbed of my voice—and my sanity. I have never felt anything like this before. It’s too strong, too invasive, painful even. I try to get away from it, wreathing my hips as I mewl in agony, while the brutal tremors continue to torture me.
I lift my head to lay eyes on the commotion at my middle, only to realize that he tied the toy to my legs, secured with a piece of rope. The rubberized head is firmly pressed against my pussy, moving with me as I writhe to get away from it. There is no escape.
“Just let it happen,” he says, still sitting on the bed beside me. The smile on his face seems genuine, almost loving. “Don’t fight it, Grace.”
“Let... let what happen?” I squeeze out, followed by a distressed groan.
“The pleasure,” he says. “You can’t run from it, so you might as well enjoy it. Relax, give in to it.”
I can barely hear him, as the fog in my head thickens and my ears start ringing. I mewl in anguish, throwing my head back while my limbs begin to spasm against their restraints with sudden jolts. But even the pain of the cuffs cutting into my wrists and ankles can’t deflect from the unbearable discomfort that’s unfurling at my core.
“Relax, Grace, trust me,” I hear his voice from far away. “Stop fighting it, you’re only hurting yourself.”
I want to yell at him. I want to remind him that I wasn’t the one who put that devil machine there. And why would I trust a psychopath?
Maybe, because I have no other choice.
This could go on forever, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. He is my only chance—and he’s telling me to enjoy this.
But how? How do I relax when I’m under constant attack by these vicious vibrations?
I flinch when he reaches for me, gently caressing my cheek with his finger, then moving downward along my jaw and my neck, before he traces the outline of my collarbone. His movements are tender and his touch oddly soothing, even when he travels further, placing his palm on my left boob.
“You can do this, little girl,” he says in a soft sounding voice. “Relax, just relax. I promise you, the pain will be over once you do.”
I want to believe him, I really do. And I want to get out of this misery before it kills me. But it’s so hard, harder than anything I’ve ever had to do.
“You’re strong, Grace. I know you can do this,” he encourages me, applying mild pressure on my breast. “Take a deep breath, close your eyes, and trust in yourself. Your mind is strong. You can get there.”
He leaves his palm on my breast, still maintaining the soft pressure from before, as if he were trying to keep me in place or calm me down.
And it’s working. I don’t know why, but his touch has a soothing effect on me—just like his words. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, before a long sigh flees my lips when the tension finally leaves my body.
And then, everything changes. Just like he said it would.
The vibrations are still there, still hitting my most sensitive spot with their aggressive invasion, but they are no longer painful. I’m quivering, trying to make sense of what’s happening to me as I’m flooded with a surge of warmth and comfort. Keeping my eyes closed, I stop squirming, laying still as excruciating pain turns into overwhelming delight.
“That’s right, let it happen,” he murmurs next to me. “You’re doing great, Grace.”
A mindless groan is all I can muster as a response, before I’m silenced as a surge of crushing bliss washes over me. I’ve never had sex before, but I know what an orgasm feels like—or so I thought. I have been to this place, I have played with myself, chasing this high until I found release.
But this is nothing like anything I have ever experienced before. This one is louder, more demanding, and so sudden that I find myself back in the grip of paralyzing shock. There were no harbingers, no shallow waves announcing this rapture. It rolled over me without any warning, barely giving me time to adjust after distress turned into pleasure.
A carnal moan flees from my lips when I’m hit with another crest of bliss, and the world around me vanishes into nothingness. I keep my eyes closed, hollowing my back as my whole body seizes in ecstasy, struggling to handle this level of elation. Somewhere far away, I can hear his voice, speaking in a benevolent manner, but I can’t make out what he’s saying.
I’m waiting for it to end, but the crests keep coming, spurred on by the toy’s vibrations. However, they are weakening, each one softer than the one before and less staggering as they make room for post-orgasmic relaxation.
A relief that I’m not granted, because the tremors between my legs keep assaulting my sensitive pussy, refusing to give me the peace I so desperately crave.
Shaking, I turn to look at him. The smile on his face widens, when he shakes his head.
“Please, I... c-”
“Did you come?” He interrupts.
I nod, silenced by shame.
“Told you,” he says, winking at me.
I didn’t even realize that his hand was still on my breast, until he gives it another squeeze, harder this time. It doesn’t really hurt, but I wince nonetheless, too sensitive to handle any kind of touch.
“Please...”
My plea turns into a breathless sigh and remains unheard. I can feel his eyes on me as I wind my body in a futile attempt to free myself from the torment between my legs.
He was right, this is way worse than the blazing but brief pain caused by the teapot. I would do anything to make this stop.
“What... what do you want?!” I cry out. “Tell me. I’ll do it. I’ll do anything!”
“I want you to come,” he says, as he lets go of my breast. “I want you come again. And again.”
He moves his hand down, tenderly caressing my ribcage, then my waist, before reaching my hipbone, where he decides to stop.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers solemnly. “Come for me. I want to see you come again.”
He rests his hand on my hip, applying a bit of pressure, just like he did before—and I allow myself to relax. And as soon as I do, I can feel the change at my core. Torment turns into pleasure, and my moans are no longer born from pain but relish.
He notices, and a knowing smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth while he encourages me with a silent nod. I close my eyes as another crest of pleasure takes a hold of me, sending me into another ecstatic frenzy that’s even more surprising than the first.
I come again, hard. A carnal groan fills the room while I contort my hips, now moving with the tremors and not against them, as I give in to the thrilling rush of another climax. Much to my amazement, this one is just as staggering as the first, blinding me with its intensity as my mind drifts into a temporary delirium. Surges of bliss wash through my body, reaching every part of me, all the way up to the tips of my fingers.
I’m quivering, still flinching under the last echoes of my peak, when I hear his voice again.
“Good girl,” he praises.
I feel his grip on my waist, applying warm pressure that feels more comforting than it should. But it doesn’t stop the inevitable return of anguish as the tremors turn violent again.
Exhausted, I look up at him, a single tear rolling down my face while I part my lips to speak.
“Make it stop,” I manage to produce. “Please, it’s hurting me...”
“You brought this on yourself,” he reminds me. “You asked for this, Grace.”
I didn’t ask for any of this! He’s doing this to me! How can he say that? I want to argue, but I can’t. I feel like I have lost all control over my body, and I can only watch in horror as my torment continues, the vibrations now feeling like a thousand tickling stings that make me weak and dizzy.
“You’ll come as much as I want,” I hear his sonorous voice from the left.
“W-why?!” I cry out.
“Because I want you to,” he replies. “I’m enjoying this, and you’re here to please me.”
How can he enjoy this? What’s in it for him? I thought he was going to fuck me, rape me. It’d be even more terrifying, but at least I’d understand why he’s doing it to me.
This, I don’t understand. Not at all.
I open my eyes, but my vision is blurred and just as hazy as my obscured mind. It’s like I’m back in the water, drowning and slowly losing consciousness—and my life. But there’s no surface to escape to, no salvation or any hope for rescue.
It’s just me and him, and the puzzling blend of terror and bliss of the toy between my legs. I’m dissolving, losing myself as I try to withstand his torture and the sounds of my screaming voice bounce against the walls of my prison.
I come again. And again. But I don’t know how many times I reach this agonizing ecstasy, before I’m finally released by the sweet kiss of unconsciousness.