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Authors: William Vitelli

BOOK: Elicitation
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Soon her entire attention was focused on the steady burning inside her. She struggled for control, making herself relax, overriding her body’s desire to clench against the invading object. Steadily, inch by inch, bit by bit, she loosened her grip on the ginger root. The burning faded to a warm glow, and before long she found herself moaning and rolling her hips steadily.

Anthony smiled to himself. Her arousal was plain; she could not stop herself from thrusting her hips in the air in long, slow undulations. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes closed, as she twisted sensuously on the bed, oblivious to everything save for the heat radiating through her.

He started carving some more, slicing out a small triangular sliver of ginger. He whittled it flat, then carefully scooped out a rounded indentation in the underside. Eileen remained lost in herself; the exquisite heat was unlike anything she had ever experienced before, and it awakened in her a strange, formless desire that she didn’t understand.

Gently, carefully, he parted the folds of her labia and pulled back her clitoral hood, then placed the triangular slice of ginger root directly on the nub of her clitoris.

It began as a tingling in her clit, mild at first. She sighed with pleasure and arched her back. Slowly, the tingling grew stronger, making her clit throb and pulse. As it grew, it spread, becoming a maddening, demanding itch deep inside her dripping cunt.

Her breathing came in fast, shallow gasps. An overwhelming feeling of need consumed her. She writhed in her chains, desperate to come, craving release; she ached for orgasm, hungered for it so badly that the desire consumed her from within. She thrust her hips toward him, making small mewling noises of raw desperation.

He sat back and watched as the ginger worked its sinister magic. The frantic need overpowered her, swept aside her rationality; her body burned with unquenchable fire. The itching strengthened, and her need became more desperate still. “Please! Please!” she whimpered. Her world shrank until the only thing she was aware of was this yearning to come. Tears of frustration and need leaked from her eyes. “Please!”

He held her in that place, merciless, for a long time. She shuddered, her body helpless in the chains and in her need. His hands roamed freely over her body, pinching her aching nipples, caressing her face, trailing his fingers feather-light over her mound. She squirmed and shook, needing more. “Please!”

A small smile. “Please what?”

Her body yearned. “Please!”

His hands left her body. He slid the briefcase from beneath the bed, removed the leather satchel. From the satchel, he withdrew the same long, slightly curved metal probe he had used on her earlier, the one she’d taken only with difficulty. He squeezed a glistening blob of lube on the end of the probe, and knelt carefully on the bed between her legs.

The ginger root slipped easily from her ass. She whimpered at the sudden feeling of emptiness. Wet white fluid dripped down between her legs. A quick flick of his fingernail and the small wedge of ginger was gone from her clit; the touch of cool air, so intense it was almost excruciating, made her squirm. Her body screamed its need at her.

“Good,” he murmured. She felt wet slick at the gaping entrance of her ass, and then the probe, cold and rigid, slid effortlessly, deeply into her. The cold, slippery metal felt shockingly, surprisingly good inside her, quenching the burning itch, and she drove herself onto it, pressing against it all the way to the base.

Warm breath caressed her aching clit. The tip of his tongue flicked lightly across it. She twitched and yelped, sensitive, and heard him chuckle. “Very good.”

That began a long period of endless, relentless teasing. His tongue danced over her, skillfully bringing her to the edge of orgasm, over and over, only to back off just as she started to contract. He drove her to the brink again and again, each time pulling her back precisely when she thought she’d reached the point of no return. She moaned and wailed and thrashed against her chains, and still that damnable, infuriating, exquisite tongue teased her. She clenched and tightened around the probe in her ass, thrust her hips against his face, all for nothing; he seemed to know, almost by magic, exactly how to keep her hovering on the threshold of ecstasy without permitting her relief. She screamed in frustration, aching to come, relishing and hating the feel of his tongue. He denied her again and again, working her need, playing it, creating art out of sexual desire.

At the exact moment she could bear no more, he stopped, just like that, and stood. She lay bound beneath him, sheened with sweat. “I think that’s enough for you right now, little whore.”

“Please…please…”

“Not tonight. You’ve had enough, I think. I’m going to leave you chained up tonight, so that you don’t touch yourself.” He lengthened the chains binding her wrists, so that she could move her arms and turn freely, careful to keep them short enough that she was unable to reach between her legs. With that, he undressed quickly, slid beneath the covers, and pulled them over her. “Sleep well. Tomorrow’s your second day of training.” He smiled and drew close to her, body pressing warmly against hers. Soft lips kissed her cheek. “Good night.”

She writhed and twisted in frenzied, throbbing, agonizing need. Tears streamed down her face; at that moment, she felt that there was nothing, no matter how filthy, she wouldn’t do to feel his lips and tongue again. “Please, please, please, please,” she sighed, “please…”

Beside her, his breathing became slower and deeper, and she knew he was asleep. She stayed awake for a long time, trembling and making soft noises of need. When sleep finally found her, it brought dreams of hands and tongues and things entering her.

Chapter 6

 

The next day, Eileen woke to the watery light of the early afternoon sun streaming through the windows. Her dreams melted away, unremembered, but the need and arousal did not. She woke still bound, her frantic desperation only a little bit abated. Almost as soon as her eyes had opened, she was writhing on the bed. He watched her from the chair, a cup of coffee in his hand. His expression was soft, adoring. When he realized she was awake, it changed into something more predatory. “Good morning! Did you sleep well?”

She didn’t look at him.

He rose, stood over her. At last she turned to face him, but didn’t meet his eyes. She felt vulnerable; but more than that, she felt her pulse quicken, felt a strange longing at his nearness. His robe fell to the ground with a rustle. He was sporting a huge erection; she knew what was coming, but couldn’t quite decide how she felt about it.

He lay down on top of her, warmth and weight on her skin, slid his arms around her tightly. She quivered; wetness flowed between her legs, her body betraying her.

She screamed when he entered her. She was sore, and he was not gentle, and she came, instantly and intensely. She arched her back and thrust her hips against him as she contracted hard around him, feeling every inch of his sweet, delicious cock inside her. The powerful contractions hurt, the length of his shaft buried inside her hurt, and her orgasm went on and on and on, longer than any she had ever felt before. She struggled and pulled at the chains, and still she came, every beat of her heart sending shockwaves through her body. She was still coming even as he pulled out of her, even as she felt herself closing around nothing. The sudden, shocking sense of emptiness made her wail; the orgasm, so cruelly interrupted before it had finished, left her craving more.

She whimpered softly without moving as he unfastened the cuffs on her wrists and ankles. Soft fingertips touched her cheek, stroking her face lightly, bringing her partway back to earth. Her eyelids fluttered under his gentle caress. His roving fingers touched her lips; she responded without thinking, parting her lips to kiss them.

“Mmm, yes, you know what’s going to happen now, don’t you?” he said. “Stay just like that.”

The scraping sound of the leather case on the hardwood floor came from beneath the bed. She lay naked, eyes closed, waiting. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach.
He’s going to… to put himself in my mouth!
she thought. The idea terrified her, repulsed her; she dreaded the feel of it, the taste of his hot salty spunk pouring into her mouth.

And yet…

The dread brought with it a thrill that shivered her spine and made her tingle and clench. The butterflies grew stronger.

He took her wrists tightly in his hands and fastened the manacles together, cuffing her hands in front of her. She made a small sound of surprise but did not resist. Her chest felt tight; the dread, and the silvery electric current of excitement that followed with it, surged through her.

She lay still, mouth open, wondering at her own compliance. He had spoken the truth; she did know what was going to happen. Thinking about it, how he would use her against her will, sickened her. Her breasts felt heavy and hot; her nipples, still tender from the night before, stood painfully erect.

He pushed his fingers into her mouth. “Wider.” He pried her mouth open farther. She felt something hard and inflexible, ring-shaped, forced into her mouth, holding it uncomfortably wide. He passed a strap behind her head, and buckled it very tightly. She tried to tell him that the strap was too tight, but her words came out muffled and indistinct.

“Kneel.” He pulled her from the bed and pushed her roughly to the floor.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. He stood over her, nude saved for a wide leather belt around his waist with a metal loop on each side. In each hand, he held a long, narrow leash, which passed through the metal rings on his belt; her eyes traced the leads, and she realized that the other end of each leash was attached to the strap around her head, the one that held the ring in her mouth. His cock stood proud and erect, still glistening with her juices.

“This,” he said, “is called an oral rape harness. It will be a standard part of your training. When I pull on these,” and he tugged on the ends of the leads, drawing her head closer to him, “you will have no choice but to take me in your mouth. Nor will you be able to turn your head or move away. When you wear it, it will force you to suck my cock, no matter how much you struggle. You will not be able to close your mouth as long as the ring is in it. Do you understand?”

She nodded at him, eyes wide. Fear and longing roiled in her belly.

“Good,” he said. He drew sharply on the leashes. She lurched forward, almost losing her balance. He guided his shaft easily into her mouth and continued to draw her forward, until the bulbous head of his erection pressed hard at the back of her throat. The taste of her own warm, musky juices filled her senses.

She struggled wildly, helplessly, pushing ineffectually against him with her bound hands. He pulled the leads harder still, preventing her from backing away. She coughed and choked around him, and still he pulled tighter, forcing his way down her throat. A thin ribbon of drool leaked from the corner of her lips. She gagged and tried to pull free, but the straps held her securely in place. A wave of helplessness washed through her.

“Good,” he said. “That’s right.” He loosened the tension on the straps, and she pulled back, gasping. “Now take it!”

He pulled the straps tight, dragging her forward onto his cock again until she gagged. Then he loosened them again, allowing her to draw away. He raped her mouth methodically that way, forcing her head down onto his shaft and then letting her draw back, over and over again. “That’s good, little whore. Just like that. Your mouth feels so good!”

A small shiver ran through his body. His cock stiffened in her mouth. She whimpered, knowing that his inevitable orgasm was fast approaching. Tears flowed down her cheeks. He slowed his pace, prolonging it, keeping himself from coming. Anticipation wound tight in her; his holding off only made the dread worse. She wept harder.

He slowed the rhythm still more. Hot tears streamed over her cheeks as she gagged and choked. A part of her wanted badly for him to come, to put an end to the relentless fucking of her mouth. She felt used, objectified, like a possession instead of a person; and even as she choked and sobbed, her pussy twitched and dripped warm wetness down her thigh.

He moaned and pulled hard on the straps. His rigid cock plunged down her throat, silencing her startled cry. He eased up, and she tried to scramble away, just as he unleashed a gush of thick warm come into her mouth. He pulled her head down and released her in time with his spurts, each one spraying into her mouth just as she pulled away, his come forced to the back of her throat as he yanked her forward. She struggled not to swallow, but the ring in her mouth prevented her from spitting it out easily.

Finally, when he was done, he dropped the leashes connected to the harness. She scrambled backward and coughed. A thick wad of white come poured out of her mouth and landed wetly between her breasts. Her throat worked, causing more come to spill over her chin and run down her neck. Creamy goo flowed over her breasts and dripped from her nipples.

“That felt very good,” he smiled. “I love using your mouth. I think that’s my favorite part of the training so far. But we still aren’t finished with this session, are we?” He reached to the case and drew out a blunt metal probe, one size larger than the one he had made her take the night before. “We still need to work on training that lovely ass of yours.”

She tried to rise. Instantly, he knelt over her, forcing her down on her back. He grabbed her arm roughly and held her down on the floor. “Oh, no, you don’t.”

She fought fiercely, but he had the advantage of leverage, strength, and size. He leaned over her and pinned her down firmly with one hand. “Hold still, little whore!” With the other, he brought the long metal probe up between her breasts, scooping up a glop of come. He shoved the end of the probe into her mouth.

She screamed and twisted away from him. He grabbed her tightly by the hair. “Behave! Suck on the probe. Get it all nice and wet. You don’t want me to shove it up your ass dry, do you?”

She stopped fighting, defeated. He raised the probe to her lips again. “That’s better. Now, all nice and wet.”

Hesitantly, she ran her tongue around the end of the instrument. Come dripped from it and trickled down her throat. She tried to ignore the taste, tried not to think about what it was. He fed it deeper into her mouth, and she swirled her tongue around it, wetting it thoroughly. Wet slurping noises filled the room, making her flush with embarrassment.

“There you go. That should do it.” He pulled the metal rod from her mouth, and scooped up another wad of come from her breast. “Looks all nice and slippery to me. Now spread your legs!”

The ring in her mouth prevented her from protesting. He pushed her knees up to her chest. The gooey, slippery end of the probe touched the entrance to her anus, and she shuddered.

“Relax,” he said calmly. “Take a deep breath.”

She closed her eyes and forced herself to stillness. Pressure mounted at her rear opening, increasing steadily. She inhaled deeply, and held her breath for what she knew was coming.

More pressure, irresistible, and suddenly her body yielded. The probe opened her wide, and as it slid into her, she arched her back and screamed. The impossibly thick metal rod slid deeper; as she stretched tightly around it, she felt like it was splitting her open. The cool, slick rod moved further up inside her, and her scream trailed off into a moan. Panic gripped her.
How can something that hurts feel so good? What’s wrong with me?

“You like that, don’t you?” Anthony grinned. “You have a body that’s just made to be fucked.” The base of the probe pressed very deep within her. His fingers spread open her pussy lips. “Just look at how wet you are! Being used for sex really turns you on.”

He penetrated her with his fingers. Juices leaked from her, and she whimpered, shamefaced. Butterfly wings danced in her stomach.

The phone rang, two short jarring bursts of noise.

He straightened and withdrew his fingers. “Get the phone. Bring it to me.”

She stared up at him, disoriented, not understanding his words. The phone rang again.

“Bring me the phone. Now.”

She turned awkwardly and tried to stand. The hard metal shaft buried so far inside her shifted, and a strong jolt of something midway between pleasure and pain shot through her. She moaned and dropped to her knees.

Another ring. She fell forward and crawled clumsily on hands and knees over to the nightstand, hampered by the steel cuffs binding her wrists together. As she straightened and reached for the phone, the probe shifted again; she clenched tightly around it and jerked, sending the telephone crashing to the floor. The handset skittered away.

“Hello? Hello?” came a small, tinny voice.

She picked up the receiver and shuffled on her knees to where Anthony waited patiently. With each motion, the probe inside her moved slightly, causing her to moan and gasp. She knelt before her husband and offered him the handset.

He took it from her, then took her hands and folded them around his cock, which hardened beneath her fingers. With one hand, he covered the mouthpiece. “Stroke me off, little whore.” He lifted the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

She looked up at him nervously. She had never before touched a man’s penis this way; all her life, she had heard stories of women who did things like this, touched men in such ways, and how perverted they were to debase themselves like that. For reasons she didn’t fully understand, she had expected that a penis, viewed this close up, would be coarse and rough; the velvety softness of the skin surprised her. She moved her hands up and down uncertainly, not quite sure what to do.

Small, indistinct sounds came from the earpiece. “No, quite all right,” Anthony responded. “I dropped the phone, that’s all.” He covered the mouthpiece again and looked down at her. “Harder. Faster.”

She tightened her grip around his shaft and moved her hands more quickly. “I’m sorry, what’s that again?” he asked. The person on the other end answered indistinctly. “There is? Good. I’ve been waiting for it. Can you do me a favor and read me the return address?”

A long pause followed. His breathing deepened, and he closed his eyes. She stroked rhythmically, feeling soft skin slide over rigidity.

Presently, the tinny voice returned, said something she couldn’t understand. “It is? Good,” he said. “Can you have someone send it up right away?” More tinny sounds from the earpiece. “Thank you,” he replied, then looked down at her once more. “There you go, little whore. Just like that. Don’t stop.”

His breathing became ragged, and he moaned in pleasure. His cock throbbed between her fingers. “Good,” he sighed, “I’m going to—”

He twitched, and a jet of milky fluid spurted from the end of his shaft, landing in her hair, catching her off guard. She jerked aside, and the next spurt splattered on her shoulder. Thick gobs of goo welled up between her fingers and ran down her wrist. Another spurt sent a streamer of come across her breasts.

He sighed and held still, eyes closed, until he had finished. When the jets of semen finally stopped, he opened his eyes and looked down at her. “Good girl,” he said. He pulled away from her, causing her to lose her balance. She sat heavily on the floor with a “whuf!” of surprise. The probe pushed hard into her, taking her breath away. She stared up at him with a mixture of shock, pain, shame, and desire in her eyes.

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