Claimed: A Forced Submission Romance (6 page)

Suddenly all business, Lindsay declared, “We’d better get you out of there, before you turn into a prune.” While the bath had been rejuvenating, the conversation had been draining, and what with her physical exertions, Sandy remained almost inert as Lindsay fussed about, lifting her nearly limp body from the tub, drying her off and powdering her, cooing and chattering the whole time. Finally, wrapping her in a big towel, Lindsay helped Sandy, half-carrying her into the guest room. “You’ll sleep well tonight, anyway.”

“I doubt it,” Sandy thought to herself, her feelings still in a tumult. Notwithstanding, she fell asleep the instant her head hit the pillow. Waking in the morning, in the soft, cosy bed, Sandy felt rested and strong, if still awfully confused. Her mind was reeling at the recollection of the previous day’s activities. Still the jagged shock was blunted somewhat by remembered feelings of bliss. She didn’t know whether to be appalled, outraged, or self-satisfied. Such an unbelievable encounter. “No one back home,” she thought, “would ever believe it.” Awful or wonderful, it had definitely been an incredible experience. So, perhaps she should be appreciative, and let it go at that. She still didn’t know how to properly react, and the confusion left her muddled.

She could hear the rumble of earnest conversation in the kitchen, though it was mostly Lindsay. She wondered what they were saying. “Although,” she pointed out to herself, “I can pretty well guess. Lindsay feels guilty, and she’s trying to explain that to Alex.”

Slipping on a robe, Sandy padded into the kitchen, making sure they heard her approach. Alex looked a little subdued, and Lindsay, standing over the stove, looked a little more flushed than the heat warranted, still they tried to behave normally – however that was. ‘G’morning,” Sandy mumbled, her part, at least, was easy.

“Good morning, my dear,” Lindsay effused. “Did you sleep well?”

Sandy nodded, as Alex greeted her, “Morning, my lovely.” Sandy caught Lindsay’s glare, even if Alex didn’t. There was an awkward silence as Sandy sat down and Lindsay served her breakfast, then Alex jumped right in. “Well, Cuz,” he said, “I must say, you were a real hit.” He smiled a sort of goofy, what-can-I-say sort of smile. “Everyone was very impressed with my Canadian Cousin. Not just a few of them would like to have a go with you before you leave. I mean if you wanted.”

“Alex!” Lindsay scolded, “Stop that!”

Sandy stared intently at her plate. Strangely, the lewd suggestion, while completely inappropriate to common etiquette, was not half as offensive as she would have thought. She found herself thinking it was almost tempting – but the very consideration scared her for some reason. “How long are you staying?” Alex asked; but Sandy felt there was a sort of false innocence in the question.

She was visibly perturbed. While her stay there had initially been open-ended, she replied, “I was only planning on staying one night.” Her mind was whirling. “How can they act so normal? They act as though they hadn’t just raped me – hadn’t just subjected me to a huge gang-bang. Then again, who would believe that it was rape? Was it really rape?” Sandy recalled being so bewildered that she’d wanted to go on autopilot, but she hadn’t, had she? “I suppose it wasn’t really obvious that my participation was secured under duress.” Then she realized that even that was only partially true. And, in the end, she had actually been more than willing, even if somewhat overwhelmed. A smile unconsciously settled on her lips, as she recalled the towering pinnacles of pleasure she had ascended “I did,” she reminded herself, “have more than a few fantastic orgasms.” How could she hold against these people what she had really, in the final analysis, enjoyed so much? She couldn’t find an answer, as she picked away at her food. Surely there was something horribly wrong with this picture but she wasn’t sure what it was.

Lindsay sat down next to Sandy, and placed a warm hand over hers. Patting it she said, “I understand, dearie. We went ‘way too far. I don’t know what we were thinking. I just hope one day you can forgive us.” Sandy looked into Lindsay’s eyes and saw nothing but sincerity and affection. How could she not forgive this woman – eventually.

Trying to lighten things up, as men are wont to do, Alex added brightly, “Mind you, you’ve certainly got all the single lads in your thrall.” He chuckled at the thought that she had not half of the married blokes enthralled, too, if she wanted them. “They’d do anything for you.”

“Shush!” Lindsay scolded again.

“For another piece of me, you mean,” Sandy added under her breath. But it wasn’t bitterness, more puzzling aloud. She looked around, the faces of her cousin and his wife watching her, the memories of the previous evening and all its players, apparitions gliding across her mind. “What’s happening here?” she wondered. “Has there been some kind of a shift? Am I really in control here – now?” Time enough to think about that. She stood to excuse herself from the table and went back to her little room to dress and pack and consider.

Sandy heard a noise at the outside door, heralding the arrival of someone. She hesitated, steeling herself, then waltzed back into the kitchen with a confidence she didn’t feel. As she entered, Damon, the youngest of the team-members from the night before popped out of his seat like a Jack-in-the-box, and sputtered his greetings. “Uh, hallo, er – Sandy. Nice to see you again!”

His stumbling discomfiture brought a smile to Sandy’s face as she replied, “Hello...”

“Damon,” he quickly supplied, giving an almost half bow. “Damon McKay. We met last night. I was...”

Sandy laughed inside, but rescued him by extending her hand and saying, “Nice to see you, Damon. How are you?” just as if he hadn’t been part of the previous night’s orgy.

“Oh,” he said, shaking his head, while pumping her hand, “Ooh, couldna be better.” He looked into her eyes with such longing, Sandy almost had to turn away, but she held, suddenly realizing where the power of this meeting currently rested. Dropping her hand, Damon lowered his eyes and mumbled, “You were fantastic, last night.” Then lifting his head to look into her face again, he said with palpable disappointment, “Alex says you’ll be leaving today. There’s a pity. I was hopin’ we might..., I mean I thought we could....” He couldn’t bring himself to say what he meant.

“Funny,” Sandy thought, “given all that they said and did last night.” She flashed him another warm smile, thinking, “Poor guy is completely tongue-tied.” Out of the corner of her eye, Sandy saw Lindsay take Alex by the hand and lead him out of the room. She could just imagine her clucking, leave the young ones alone. Sandy could feel the power Damon was conferring on her, and, she realized, she quite liked it. “I’m sorry,” she said, reaching a hand out to touch his shoulder, “but I’m trying to get to Aberdeen today.”

“Oh, that’s a real shame,” Damon complained. “I’d really love to...” He got stuck again, and looked forlornly at Sandy, who leaned forward in anticipation, as if she couldn’t guess what he was trying to say. He tried once more. “I’d really love to – er – have another – er – spend some time with you. Know what I mean?”

At any other time, Sandy would have been repulsed and insulted, but now she felt rather proud, and flattered, so she took charge of the conversation. Lowering her voice a little, she asked, mischievously, “D’you mean you’d like to fuck me again, Damon?” His wide-eyed energetically nodded mute response amused her. Then, somewhere in the back of her mind, a small light bulb flared up. Before she consciously realized what she was doing, she said coyly, “Okay. Give me a ride to Aberdeen, and we can have sex – again.” Smiling benignly, she added, “If that’s what you really want.”

Damon almost peed himself, he was so surprised, but he recovered fairly quickly. “Right, then,” he said breathlessly. “When d’you want to leave? We can stop at my flat, if you like, before we get onto the motorway.”

While her feelings may have been tumultuously confused, the overriding emotion Sandy felt was one of glee. “My bag’s in there,” she said indicating the little bedroom. “Just let me say good-bye to Lindsay and Alex.” As Damon disappeared after her bag, Sandy headed for the living room.

“Damon’s driving me to Aberdeen,” she announced. The atmosphere was noticeably strained, and Sandy considered the strange circumstances. She wasn’t sure whether to thank them for their hospitality, or bid them good-riddance.

Alex stood and extended his hand. “It was wonderful to meet you, Sandy,” he said wistfully, not completely unaware of Sandy’s inner distraction. “Sorry you couldn’t stay longer.” Dropping her hand, he leaned forward and gave her a warm, brotherly hug. Sandy could tell he wanted to say more, but knew not what to say. She couldn’t help him there. Her emotions swirled as she returned his hug in kind.

Clasping Sandy’s hands between her own, Lindsay looked searchingly into Sandy’s eyes. She believed she could almost see the moral quandary raging in the sweet young traveler. “Good bye,” she said quietly. “God be with you.” Leaning into Sandy, Lindsay looped an arm around her waist and planted a chaste but meaningful kiss on Sandy’s cheek.

Sandy felt a pang. She liked Lindsay, despite everything, and would have liked to stay longer and really get to know her. “Maybe another time,” she whispered, more to herself.

Lindsay nodded, softly agreeing, “Maybe.”

Gently releasing herself from Lindsay’s embrace, Sandy whispered, “Bye,” and, with a peck at Lindsay’s cheek, she turned to join Damon at the front door. Her tummy was all a-flutter with the realization of what she was about to do. “Bye,” she called again, over her shoulder, then, not exactly sure what she meant, she added, “Thanks for everything!” as she took Damon by the hand and raced out to his car.

After opening her door for her and getting her seated, Damon shot off like the legendary Le Mans start, jumping into place and spinning his tires as he took off. “We’ll just stop at my flat, okay?” he asked, as if still not believing his good fortune.

“Of course,” Sandy tittered. “That’s part of the deal.” She felt as light and giddy as a schoolgirl on a first date. There was a sense of the surreal as Damon careened across the countryside and into town, to pull up in front of a neat little council-house. Curiously, Sandy noted that her panties were damp. They hadn’t been when she’d left Lindsay. Her reaction fueled her anticipation and in detecting the dampness, exacerbated it. If she wasn’t careful, the wet spot would show on her jeans before she even got inside. “Oooooh,” she trilled, quietly, as Damon raced around to open her door, “What a strange whirligig I’ve managed to find.” Her head was swimming with possibilities and outcomes. Just where she was headed she wasn’t sure, but it seemed certain she was picking up speed. Feeling terribly evil, yet delightfully mischievous, Sandy skipped up the stoop and through the opened doorway. Spinning about the entrance, holding her hands out like a pleased child, she giggled and said, “Well? Where do you want me?”

Damon’s look dripped with lust and self-satisfaction. After all, wasn’t he about to get a dessert his mates might well kill for? As he pointed toward the bedroom, Sandy threw her arms around him and pulled him hard into her, crushing her tits against his chest, and her lips on his. “How ‘bout right here?” she asked innocently, when he broke for a breath, and she began peeling his shirt from his shoulders. Dropping to her knees right there in the hall, she tugged on his zipper, while pulling out his shirt-tails. Recovering his already turgid penis from his shorts she kissed the tip, then, holding it for a moment, she raised her eyes to his face, batting them ever so slightly. A very slight moan escaped his gaping mouth, as he stared down at this sumptuous vixen. The moment their eyes clashed Sandy slowly and deliberately pushed her mouth over the end of his prick and kept on pushing until it had vanished from his sight. Holding him deep, for a long moment, she gently started to bob up and down the swollen manhood, laving it with her tongue. Moving her hands up under his shirt, she ran them across his chest to dance her fingertips over his nipples. She could feel him trembling at the abrupt escalation of his already inflamed ardour; he wouldn’t last long at this rate. Stilling her fingers and pulling back until only the tip of her tongue stayed in contact with his throbbing and bouncing prick, she asked simply, “What do you want me to do?”

“Ah, ah,” he stuttered, and Sandy was thrilled to realize she was actually calling the shots – she, in fact, held all the power. “Ah, let’s get naked – on the bed, okay?”

“You’re the boss,” she replied, smug with the new understanding that he wasn’t at all.

Scrambling into the bedroom, hopping and tripping, Damon, tore his remaining clothes from his body and fell to the bed. Sandy followed without his urgency, sashaying into the room removing articles of clothing as she sauntered. Standing next to the bed, she took her time with her bra and panties, turning the two flimsy undergarments into a full-fledged burlesque. Damon watched, awestruck. It amazed Sandy that she could do it so well, as the only strippers she had ever seen were in a short choppy bar scene in some forgettable B-movie.

Finally naked, she climbed onto the bed next to Damon, and proceeded to straddle his loins, lowering herself gracefully until she was fully impaled on his twitching erection. As she hit bottom, they moaned in unison. Damon reached for her tits as she began pumping herself with her thighs. Off and on, on and off, up and down, down and up. Sandy would slow down and pause if she thought Damon was getting too close, then she’d accelerate briefly just for the effect. She could feel an orgasm growing deep within – sparks flying every time Damon pinched her nipples, or bumped her cervix with his soldier. Playing him like a fine instrument, Sandy expertly raised him to fever-pitch, then let him down, until, at long last she decided they’d had enough. With a huff and a puff, she suddenly began pogo-ing at high-speed, then sweeping the full-length of his impressive erection, she grazed her clit with the tip before plunging hard against his abdomen. Holding herself tight among his pubic hair Sandy threw her body forward and mashed her lips into his. Everything stopped for an instant, even, it seemed their hearts, then Damon’s prick began pulsing and spewing, jerking against her inner walls as it spurted again and again. The first splash of semen against her hyper-sensitive womb set off a series of explosions that rocked the very foundations of Sandy’s soul. Her heart pounded and her eyes swam, her cunt wept, its copious juices flowing out into Damon’s thatch. Pushing her tongue so far into Damon’s mouth, Sandy threatened to choke him. Damon could feel his cock, backed by his heaving hips, smashing over and over into the end of Sandy’s box. Eventually their writhing waned and they became still except for their heaving chests and quivering loins. And finally even they were still.