Pretty When She Cries (6 page)

Falling on her, he clasped her in his arms and rammed himself well into her, till she felt his stomach against her bottom. He was shoving furiously in her, thrusting his dick as deeply into her as he could force it, harder and harder. She cried brokenly, “Ah! Ah! Ah!” as she felt the jets of his come shoot into her ass.

He rested motionless on her, his hands convulsively gripping and squeezing her hanging breasts. He and she both were breathing heavily. Her back was damp where his mouth was, as if he had dribbled on her. Still lodged in her, he brushed his face over and around her back. She was mute in the after-shock. He pulled out gingerly, with a groan, and collapsed beside her. She couldn’t lie down properly because of her restraints. She tucked her legs into her chest and lay on her side, facing away from him. She was in shock. She was white—white to the lips.

“You needed to learn that lesson,” she heard him say. She closed her eyes, and buried her face into her chained wrists. Her ass was stinging and felt as if he had torn her apart.

He left her chained the same way. All day she was alone. She turned herself occasionally to give her neck and shoulders relief, but all day she was chained in that awkward position. She hadn’t been able to use the bathroom and had wet herself and the mattress. She stared at the door most of the time, waiting, watching for hope. The whole time her bowels were cramped with fear. In the afternoon he came in holding a grocery bag.

“I got you some things,” he said, coming over. “A tooth brush, sanitary napkins, some more panties, I guessed your size, and some Advil.” He touched her cheek. She trembled nervously. He eased her up onto her knees and elbows again. “Let me have a look here. That’s going to be sore for a few days,” he said gently patting her ass, and feeling her up a little at the same time. She hated him so much. He kissed her backside before he retrieved her a glass of water.

He popped a pill into her mouth and held the glass to her lips for her. She hadn’t had any food or water all day and it was difficult to get the pills down. He hand fed her some bread and peanut butter.

“I know I hurt you pretty badly, but my God, it was like heaven to me!” he said. He kissed her face. “Do you need to use the bathroom? I won’t make you use the bowl.”

“I wet the mattress,” she said despondently. “You had me tied up all day.”

“I know, baby. I’m sorry. You pissed me off.”

He helped her to the bathroom. She could hardly walk. Every inch of her body ached. He stayed with her, as she knew he would.

Chapter 5

She was chained normally again, and was almost asleep, when he came over with her cell phone. “How often do you call your mom?” he asked.

“All the time.”

“Do you want to text her? Tell her you made it safely, and you’ll call her in a couple of days.”

Her eyes were blurry with fresh tears while she tried to focus on texting. She felt so trapped, knowing the false message would go to her mum, when all she really wanted to do was call her and tell her to come get her. He was sitting behind her watching what she said. He took it off her again immediately. “Good, baby, you did good.” He kissed her head. “We’ll work out what to tell your family later.”

He left her alone the rest of the afternoon and all evening. During the night she kept waking up, thinking he was standing over her.

She slept late into the morning. She didn’t know what time it was, but it felt like it was just before midday. He gave her some more Advil and offered her some toast, but she only took a few bites. She couldn’t stomach food. He stuck around for most of the day. He sat in front of the television watching pornos. She went in and out of sleep listening to the ridiculous moaning and grunting.

She flinched, and was suddenly wide-awake, when he touched her hair. He was crouching near her head. “I want to kiss,” he said in an intimate tone. He drew her face to his, and lowered his lips to her mouth. He was cradling her head, and pushed his kiss intently against her.

“Kiss me as if I was your boyfriend,” he whispered. She felt his lips open as she softly kissed him. He sighed, sliding his tongue in deep and sensuously. He started to get excited, clutching one of her breasts, and smothering her with kisses on her mouth, eyes, and cheeks. He kneeled as close to the mattress as he could and got her to suck him. She was half sitting up, and passively let him do the work. He came quickly in her mouth. He wouldn’t let her sit up properly, but covered her mouth with his hand and forced her to swallow. She gagged and retched, almost vomiting. She just managed to keep it down, and he took his hand off her mouth.

Later, he unchained her and took her outside around to the side of the house. He was fully clothed but she was utterly naked. It was late afternoon. There wasn’t a house in view only trees. The house was situated on a large property, but there didn’t seem to be any animals.

“You looked so good and smelled so good when I brought you here,” he said, grabbing a hose. “Now you smell like a dirty fucking whore.”

He focused the nozzle into a tight stream and used it mercilessly to wash the filth off her body. She gasped for breath, and shut her eyes tight as the hard stream hit various parts of her body. He changed the nozzle to a thicker, softer running, but still solid stream and played the cold water all over her. She kept her hands clasped in front of her cold breasts. He stood closer and put the nozzle between her legs and washed her there. He tried to push the hose inside her, but she complained so he just washed her. Then he put the water in her face and hair, and scrubbed as if he was washing his car.

He turned the water off and she stood shivering. The sun wasn’t warm enough to drive the chill off her flesh. Her long wet hair clung to her neck and shoulders. He let most of the water drip from her, while he stood smoking.

“I’m cold,” she said.

“I know I can see you shivering. Don’t cover up your breasts. See if you can go for half a day without pissing me off, and I might let you have a warm shower next time.”

He took her inside and rubbed her down with an old towel he got from the laundry. He ducked her head in the towel and rubbed her wet hair. “Do you like me being in control like this?” he asked. He rubbed her back and shoulders again with the towel and wrapped her in it. He hugged her tightly, lending her some of his warmth. He tilted her face up to him. “Eh? You like it like this?” He stared at her with dark brown eyes, with a look she could not understand at all. She nodded submissively and he kissed her on the mouth again.

“Can I have some water?” she asked.

“Didn’t you get enough out there?”

“Please?”

He chained her up first. She lay on her side, her wet hair sticking on her back. She was still cold, and couldn’t stop her teeth from chattering. She had nothing to cover herself with and tried to keep warm by balling up. She could smell the sickening odour of the mattress. He gave her a drink of water, but forgot to feed her for several hours. She was left by herself. He was in the house somewhere. The room slowly grew dark, and she lay shivering. It must have been about three in the morning when he turned on the lights and sat on the couch smoking. He didn’t say anything or look at her. He switched out the lights again and left.

The next morning she didn’t move even when he nudged her with his foot. She was nauseous and weak.

“Oi!” he said. “What’s wrong with you?” He sat on the mattress and brushed her hair from her face. “Are you okay, baby?”

“No!” she said. “I’m sick. You have to let me go!”

He dragged her to standing by her wrist and took her to the bathroom. “I don’t need to,” she said, but he stood there waiting. Finally she went a little. She couldn’t do anything more than pee. Everything was bound up inside her. It stayed like that for the next few days. Her insides seemed to go into shut down while her body healed itself. Thankfully, he left her alone. He had even put a sheet down on the mattress for her and given her a blanket and one of his pillows. When she finally could go to the bathroom he stayed with her again. He spared her no indignities to the point that she could hardly function.

* * *

Night was creeping in through the curtains. The room was getting quite dark. He lay naked beside her kissing her shoulder, while she stared vacantly up at the ceiling.

“You’re very sensitive,” he said feeling between her thighs. “I bet I could make you come again. Do you feel that? Is that nice?” he said slowly pumping his finger in and out. He kissed the side of her mouth. “Does your ass still hurt?” He pinched her to show her he expected an answer.

“Yes,” she said, numbly.

“Does your vagina hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Do you hate me?”

Her throat convulsed, but her gaze stayed fixed upward. He rolled on top of her, grinding his crotch against hers. He buried his hands in her hair and kissed and sucked her neck, emulating the sexual act.

“I could screw you all day and all night without stop,” he said. “Your cunt is constantly calling me. I can smell it from upstairs. I hate that you don’t want me. It kills me. But maybe you just need some more breaking in.”

He slid to the side of her. He kept one hand wrapped in her hair so she faced him, looking at him. His other hand was all over her body, stroking her side, tummy, and fondling between her thighs.

“You’re damn fucking pretty, you know? What do you do when you’re alone? How do you play with yourself? I bet you put your finger in. Show me. I want to see. Do it—sit up.”

He sat up, forcing her up with him. She obediently put her hand down and touched herself lightly, rubbing up and down. She kept her face turned away. He pushed her leg away from the other so he could better see what was happening between her thighs. “Show me—show me,” he whispered. “Pump your finger in and out. Oh, yeah. Use your fingers to open up that sweet, inviting cunt of yours. Tickle your clit. You’re going to make me come, baby.”

He got up on his knees. “Suck me a little while you do that.” He slid his prick into her mouth, and she closed her lips gingerly over it. He pushed his hips forward and back, fucking her mouth, while she delicately sucked him. “Show me that tongue. Show me that pretty tongue,” he said, pumping slowly in and out. He stopped and pulled out, looking down between her legs. His thumb brushed her clitoris as he put his lips over hers, probing her mouth with a lazy tongue. “You want me to lick your pussy?”

He grabbed her legs and pulled her flat on her back. He gouged two of his fingers into her tight, warm pussy, and frigged her. Her hips heaved and jerked, then her knees flung out, only to clamp shut again as she arched up her pelvic basin to the intrusion of his fingers. The irritations gave her the sensation she needed to pee. He latched his mouth on her pussy, his tongue snaking in between the warm flesh searching for all the spots that made her squirmed.

She moved uncomfortably under the irksome tickling she was experiencing. It was nasty in a way that sent shivers up her spine and made her clit stand up. She plunged her hips so frantically that she almost dislodged his mouth, but he held the rigid muscles of her inner thighs and kept her legs spread open. Her head rolled from side to side, as she struggled with a fast increasing feeling that she would go mad if he didn’t stop. Thrusting his tongue as deeply into her pussy as he could force it, he tickled and licked. Then taking her clitoris between his lips, he sucked hard at it. She spasmed purely from being oversensitized, not from any pleasure, but it seemed to satisfy him and he licked harder.

“Stop! Stop! I’m coming!” she gasped, becoming sorely sensitive. He stopped and gave her one final lick. She clamped her knees around his head. He kept his mouth pressed on her wet, swollen flesh. She could feel his hot breath panting. He slowly dislodged himself and loomed over her, his hands either side her body. She was panting looking up at him.

“Did you really come?” he asked in a shivery voice. He would just keep torturing her if she said no. She swallowed tensely and nodded. He kept staring at her as if trying to bore into her brain. She tried to hold his gaze but he made her so uncomfortable, she blinked and looked away for a second.

“You’re fucking lying,” he said in a dead voice.

“I did,” she said, frightened of the way he was looking at her.

There was silence.

“I did,” she whispered, looking at him. He clutched her throat so suddenly, she bit her tongue. He dug his fingers in, barely refraining from choking her. “Please!” she said, gasping. “Please! Don’t hurt me.”

“You like it, Nicole, you like being fucked. You like the way I fuck you? Answer me!”

She was crying, but answered, “Yes! I like it! I like the way you fuck me!”

He slapped her, then again, and again, and again, and she brought her arms over her face.

“You lying slut! I know you hate me! Don’t you ever lie to me, you prissy little cunt!” He smothered her mouth with his hand until her crying ceased. He looked heavily at her, while she pushed slightly up and down in keen distress.

“My father always told me if he ever saw me hit a woman he would beat the fuck out of me. He said you have to respect the fact that a woman is weaker, more fragile. Only thing is, I’ve seen you bitches deserve it sometimes.

“I caught my dad beating on my mom one night. I bust his balls so bad, he was coughing blood. I found out afterwards that she had been playin’ up on him behind his back for years. She also got drunk plenty of times and had a go at him. Now what’s he suppose to do? Sit there and take it? You get pushed too far by a woman. You see? It works both ways. You can’t fall back on being helpless. You provoke a man and he’ll make sure you don’t do it again. He’s pushed—he’s pushed to do what he knows he shouldn’t do.