As he moved to untie her feet, Laura’s mind started racing. Her freedom was intoxicating.
Her captor chuckled. “Put those thoughts out of your head, my dear. You cannot escape. The door is locked.”
Damn. But maybe if she got that far she could bang on it and raise attention. However, although her arms were unbound and her legs were free, her trousers still were around her ankles.
Not for long—the man was removing them, pulling her shoes off, caressing her calves as he did. The tingling up her legs sending electrical impulses to her pussy so surprised her she forgot to sprint to the door as soon as he finished.
Instead, he held her upper arms tightly in his grasp as he pulled her to stand and swiftly dragged her shirt off before she could stop him.
Laura hadn’t been expecting that and gasped in shock.
“That’s how I like my women—naked.” There was a salacious tone to his voice that was very unnerving.
Feeling self-conscious, Laura crossed her arms over her chest.
“Uh-uh. Drop them.”
She refused to obey.
“Laura! Do it now.”
His tone brooked no refusal, and she reluctantly did as he instructed, trembling when he stepped closer. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek. Her shivering intensified as she waited to see what he would do next. It was unsettling. His touch, when it came, was gentle—a whisper of a caress down her arm, a stroke of his hand over her stomach, the back of his fingers over her nipple.
Her calm crashed with his next statement. “These would look magnificent squeezed tightly in clamps.”
Was he really going to do that? She trembled violently and stepped back involuntarily, needing to distance herself.
The man quickly grabbed her arm, stopping her moving further. “As much as I want you flat on your back, if you go any further you’ll fall over the chair.”
She stopped rigidly. Afraid to move.
“But I’ve a better idea. Instead of you on your back, I’ll have you on your front. This way, my dear.”
What did he mean?
Laura soon found out as he pulled her forward, wrapping an arm around her waist, turning her so her back was against his chest. She could feel some furniture against her upper thighs.
“Bend forward. I want you to reach out with your hands to grip the other side of the table.”
When she failed to do as he demanded, her captor pushed firmly on her shoulder blades.
“Do it. Immediately!”
She hurriedly complied, scared by the harsh tone in his voice.
“That’s more like it. Now spread your legs.”
Oh God. She wanted to pee. Laura intuitively knew he was about to push himself into her vagina—or worse.
However, when he touched her again, it was to fondle her backside, soothingly. It lulled her into a false sense of security as he followed it up with a very sharp slap to her butt making her jump.
“Don’t let go of the table, whatever I do.”
Her heart got faster at that statement, the blood pounding in her ears almost deafening her to other sounds, like the faint traffic coming from what she guessed was a window in front of her.
Instead, her body was attuned to the sense of touch as she then felt something tickling her—a stem from a flower display, maybe. Her innate response, to try to recognize the smell, was cut short when he trailed the leaf up her leg, through the crease between her buttocks and she clenched her bottom.
He stopped, and she waited for the next assault.
It was preceded by a whoosh of air.
Thwack!
She yelped as he hit her with something, the belt he had been promising, maybe. Whatever it was, it stung madly! Laura gritted her teeth, clinging onto the table as hard as she could as she felt herself squirting in reaction, as often happened during her experiences with sadomasochism. Her body relished it so much.
His fingers on her back passage made her nearly let go into shock as he probed, pressing a finger in.
Oh dear Lord!
She considered if she could struggle away but that idea was too late as he moved in close behind her, pushing his cock into the place his finger had just been. He was hard and slick—she guessed he had used lube from somewhere.
Whatever, it didn’t hurt as he went slowly—at first. When he pulled out and plunged in again fast, it did hurt, and she cried out.
He stopped, stroking her back. “Relax and breathe slowly or you’ll hurt yourself.”
Laura laughed inwardly in hysteria. Who is hurting whom here?
But the pain quickly diminished and his next thrusts were softer, but deeper. At that point, he hit her
sensitive nerve endings, and she moaned out loud, before biting her lip. She didn’t want him to know she adored what he was doing.
It was too late. He chuckled wickedly. “I know you really like that, so it’s no good hiding it.”
She groaned as he plunged into her again. Each time he thrust she cried out, panting, her mouth dry, taste buds dulled. She clenched her fingers tightly around the edge of the table as he pulled her hair, but it wasn’t the reason. In fact, she hardly felt the tug on her scalp—it was in reaction to what he was doing to her backside, to her insides.
The noisy sounds of the city diminished. Even the smell of his scent dissipated. Every nerve ending, every sensation in her body coalesced on the inside of her ass as he plundered her over and over without surcease.
It was bliss.
Sheer and utter ecstasy.
Spine-tinglingly wonderful.
When he thrust again, harder, faster, and possibly deeper, she teetered on the brink. It was almost too much. The sensations were beginning to overwhelm her. She knew she shouldn't have another
orgasm. It wasn’t necessary, she was already in heaven.
Death would almost be preferable. Too late, she was over the top.
