12 #2
He keeps his teasing touch on my nipples, looking maddeningly unconcerned with my swearing.
It pisses me off that I don’t have any effect on him.
It pisses me off that I can’t even make him pay for having made me naked and helpless.
And it pisses me off that I’m nowhere near as angry as I should be about being naked and helpless.
In fact, I suddenly realize I’m not really angry about that part at all. There’s something very relaxing about not having had to make this decision. About him touching me the way he wants to. And not being able to prevent it.
The shame, the self-hatred, the sense of violation that I’d felt when he’d fingered me before—I don’t feel that anymore. I’m embarrassed, but it’s a kind of embarrassment that only makes me more desperate for his touch.
“Fuck you,” I say again for good measure.
His lips twitch into a little smirk. “You know, Lia, I think I’m starting to understand you. You’re a real brat, aren’t you? The kind of brat who’s secretly just begging for a punishment. Too bad I didn’t figure that out earlier. I wouldn’t have wasted all my time stalking you when we were kids.”
“St-stalking me?” I gasp.
He ignores my interruption. “I wouldn’t have sat there in the cafeteria listening to you call me a loser. No, I would’ve taken you straight over my lap and spanked that fat ass of yours. In front of the whole fucking cafeteria.”
“What the…” I’m so furious I can’t even think of a single thing to say. Except, “My ass is not fat!”
He snorts, then walks around to my other side. I expect him to pinch me again, and steel myself for the pain, but instead, his palm cracks against my bottom, causing a loud echo in the room.
“Ow! Fuck!”
Another smack on the opposite cheek. “Asshole!”
Smack. “Language, Lia.”
“Fuck you! I’m not a brat!”
Smack. Smack.
By now my ass is really starting to sting, so I bite down on another curse word, and huff out a relieved breath when he lays his hand gently on my cheek.
“Are you happy?” I taunt him. “Got the punishment out of your system, did you?”
“That wasn’t a punishment, Lia,” he murmurs, rubbing my bottom. “That was nowhere near a punishment. When I punish you, you’ll know.”
I swallow nervously.
“Are you… are you going to do that now?”
“Do you want me to?”
“No!”
“Don’t worry.” He pauses in his rubbing. “I wasn’t planning to, today. But I have every intention of punishing you soon. I’m going to fucking break you, Lia. I’m going to destroy you. You won’t be able to walk when I’m done with you. Let alone sit.”
Fuck. I have no doubt he’s being entirely serious. Beads of sweat break out at my temple, and I’m once more reminded just how helpless I am… how entirely at his mercy.
“But just now, Lia,” he murmurs, giving me one last hard smack, “just now, I wanted to see that fat ass of yours jiggle.”
My anxiety is once again replaced by humiliation, which only grows when he grabs each of my cheeks and… parts them.
“Logan,” I choke out, “what are you doing?”
“Well, since you don’t like it when I touch your pussy… I thought I’d play with something else.”
As he speaks, he drags a finger up and down my crack, applying pressure to the little ring of muscle. It would be enjoyable if I didn’t know what was coming next.
In fact, it is enjoyable, in some perverse way. I clench my pussy, trying to get some relief from the throbbing pressure, before heat blooms on my face when I remember he can see it.
My leg is still firmly hooked to the chain that’s pulling my knee up, and my folds are on full display.
“Oh, interesting,” he croons. “Maybe you do want me to touch your little cunt, Lia.”
“Logan…”
“Tell me, Lia. Want me to finger your cunt? Want me to make you come? Hmm? I won’t if you don’t want me to.”
He speaks those last words in a different tone, a much more serious one that has me straining my neck to catch a glimpse of him. But he’s standing behind me, and I can only make out his outline.
“Well, Lia?”
“Uhm… would you touch my ass if I didn’t want you to?”
He marks a beat, then says, “No.”
“Would you… would you untie me?”
Another pause, longer this time. “I’d at least put some clothes on you. Is that what you want me to do, Lia?”
I can’t see him, and even though his voice is deeper now, when he says those words it’s like I can picture the fifteen-year-old version of him. My heart suddenly feels very full, and I squeeze out one of the tears he seems so fond of.
“No,” I mumble.
“No?” He lets out a mocking laugh that should make me regret my answer. But instead, it sends more wetness to my folds.
He walks around to my front, grinning smugly, and wraps his arms around my helpless body. One hand finds my ass again, and the other one tweaks at my left nipple. Meanwhile, I can feel his stiff cock through his jeans, pushing against my pussy, and it takes everything I have not to grind into it.
“So what do you want, Lia?” he says, chortling. “What do you want me to do to you?”
“I didn’t realize you were supposed to ask that of your captive,” I snap.
“That’s right.” He runs his hands up and down my helpless torso, making me shiver. “That’s right. You are my captive. I can do whatever the fuck I want with you, can’t I? And you don’t have a fucking say.”
Fuck. What’s wrong with me for finding that so hot?
“I could tie you up here for days and weeks and months, feeding you nothing but dog food, coming down to use your body and giving you a good walloping for no other reason than that I feel like it…”
I shiver. The threat, coming from him, sounds just as terrifying as it did in Carmelo’s mouth, and yet it also makes my pussy clench again.
“Look at that,” he breathes, stroking around my folds but never actually touching them. “You look like you need something to squeeze that sweet cunt of yours around, huh?”
“Logan…”
I’m about two seconds away from actually begging for his touch, and yet, I’m not even thinking of trying to get anything from him in exchange.
“Please, Logan… please…”
“Please what, little brat?” he teases.
“Please, just… please, please…”
Tears sting in my eyes, because I can’t be begging my captor—the man who’s got every intention of bringing me straight back to my abusive husband—for sex. Especially since I’m aware that I wouldn’t be having sex with him for any reason other than… because my body wants it.
Don’t do it. Don’t do it!
“Beg for it,” he rasps in my ear.
“Please, Logan…”
“What do you want me to do to your cunt?”
Don’t do it!
“I want you… your fingers… your… your cock…”
“Fuck, Lia.”
I let out a shuddering breath when at last I feel his fingers stroking my slit.
I didn’t think it was possible for anything to feel so good.
His light touch sends shivers coursing down my spine, and when he dips a finger inside me, I clench again, but this time, it’s from pleasure.
It feels good to squeeze my cunt around something, just like he said.
He glances at me, and I guess whatever he sees reassures me, because he pushes in a second finger, curls them, and starts driving them into me hard.
It feels insane. Every one of his thrusts touches something deep inside me that has my nerve endings exploding.
Tingles of pleasure make my toes curl, and my core aches with need.
Then he bends toward one of my breasts, his mouth seeking out my nipple, while his free hand goes to torture the other tit.
By the time his thumb starts rubbing my clit, it’s too much. It’s just too much.
“Logan!” I whine out. “Please, Logan!”
He responds by… biting me.
“Fuck! Ahhhh!”
His teeth sink into one of my nipples, while he twists the other one, just as mercilessly as he’d pinched my ass before.
Meanwhile his fingers keep fucking into me, and even though I’m chained to the ceiling, I manage to squirm around, desperately trying to get some relief from the sensations that are overcoming me.
“Fuck, Lia, fuck,” he groans between bites, “your pussy’s fucking milking me, Lia. Your pussy’s so fucking greedy for my fingers.”
He pushes a third finger into me, and a few more thrusts are all I need. A painful orgasm rips through me, leaving me screaming.
An orgasm. My first orgasm.
Holy shit.
He clearly doesn’t suspect that as he unties me and forces me to my knees. I’m still coming down from my high, and I’m feeling pretty dizzy, between the orgasm and the chains that were digging into my circulation. My eyes flutter open when I feel something hard and wet against my face.
Holy shit.
Logan’s got his cock out, veiny and thick, and he’s pumping it in his hand, pushing it against my lips. I know what he wants. It’s what Carmelo forced me to do before he raped me. But I don’t feel repulsed, like I did then.
Only hungry for that tiny little bead of precum. I open my mouth tentatively and go to lick it.
“Bad girl,” grunts Logan, pulling me back harshly by my hair, and I whimper. “Don’t touch it until I say you can. Bad. Down.”
“I’m not a fucking dog, Logan. You can’t just—mmmph!”