Evocation (13 page)

“Mmm, that’s lovely. Now do my back.”

She rose. With the same languid, unhurried grace, she lathered herself up again. He watched her hands travel sensuously over her body. She moved around behind him. Her arms closed around his body in a sensual hug. She pressed tightly to his back and slid slowly down, washing him with her body. When she rose, she ran her hands up his arms to his shoulders. He relaxed under her touch while she massaged him, her fingers digging into his muscles.

“Mmm.” He closed his eyes. “That feels wonderful.”

“I…do you like it? I was feeling…I was worried about being silly.”

“There is never anything silly about a beautiful woman putting her hands on her body,” he said. “You forgot something, though.” He placed his hands over hers and guided them down to his cock. “You need to wash here, too.”

“Oh!” She shivered. “That’s dirty!”

“Which is exactly why you need to clean it.” His hands gripped her wrists. “Be thorough.”

She stood behind him, arms around his waist, and stroked his cock between her soapy hands. He sighed. His shaft gradually hardened between her fingers. “That’s right, just like that…ohh!” he said. She kept stroking in long, steady motions until she felt him throb and thicken in her hands. He pressed back against her. “Like that. Don’t stop…oh! Oh!” With a gasp, he came, jetting thick liquid across her hands.

When his cock stopped twitching, he turned in her arms to face her. “That was very nice,” he said. “You are adapting to your new duties well.” He planted a long, lingering kiss on her lips before she could reply. “Now rinse us off.”

When they were rinsed and dry, he led her back into the bedroom by the hand. He gestured for her to sit on the bed. She waited there, watching him, while he dressed for work. When he had finished, he picked up the training device. “Stand up.”

She gulped. The look in his eye warned her against any hesitation. She stood quietly while he locked the belt around her waist. The vibrator made her gasp when it slid into her. He locked the band to the belt, trapping the vibrator inside her. With a touch on the small remote, it came to life. Her knees buckled.

“There. I’m hungry. Shall I make breakfast for us?”

“But what about…”

“You can get dressed later. I like admiring your body.”

The vibrator pulsed and throbbed. Eileen felt her nipples tighten. She waited meekly while Anthony cooked breakfast. The thing inside her inexorably drove her to greater and greater arousal; by the time Anthony set out breakfast on the table, she was breathing hard.

He sat down across from her at the table. She could see a gleam of amusement in her eyes as he watched her struggle to deal with the vibrator’s constant prodding.

It picked up speed. Eileen moaned. She felt the rush of an oncoming orgasm, but she knew that it would not be allowed to happen. She closed her eyes, panting, trying to keep control.

“You’re slouching,” Anthony said. “Presentation is important to a sex slave. Sit up straight. Breasts out.”

Eileen felt herself contract around the intrusive device. As she did, it shut off, leaving her gasping. She opened her eyes. “Wha--?”

“I said, presentation is important. You lean over when you’re about to come. We can’t have that. Sit up straight.”

She straightened docilely. The vibrator remained still while they finished their breakfast. When they were done, Anthony cleaned up efficiently. “Okay, I’m off to work,” he said. “Have a good day, my lovely little whore!” He leaned over to kiss her cheek.

“Wait!” she cried in panic. “You can’t leave me her with this…thing in me!”

“Oh?” His eyes twinkled. “Why not?”

“What if you don’t come home?”

“And why would I not do that?” he asked.

“What if…what if you get into an accident? What if you get hit by a bus or something? I won’t be able to take it out of me! I’ll be trapped!”

“Your concern for my well-being is touching,” he grinned. “Still, you do raise an interesting point. If I get run over by a bus, I guess you’ll have to call Aaron. He has another key, I’m sure. You’ll be fine. You’ll just have to put yourself in Dr. Moreland’s capable hands.”

“No!” she gasped. The thought of turning herself over to him made Eileen quiver.

“Well, then, I guess we’ll have to hope that no errant busses come crashing through my office window.” He winked at her, grinning broadly. “You may dress, if you like. Skirt and blouse only. I will see you when I get home!”

Chapter 11

Eileen listened to the car start in the driveway and pull away. As if on cue, the vibrator began purring within her. She gasped. It buzzed faster and faster, relentlessly, until it had driven her irresistibly to the edge of another orgasm, and stopped. She wailed her frustration, her body tied in a tight knot of sexual need.

She sat down hard on the couch, panting. When she had recovered enough to walk without stumbling, she moved to the bedroom to get dressed. As she was pulling on her skirt, the vibrator started again, a relentless rapid pulsing that took her breath away.

The day passed slowly for Eileen, in an endless haze of forced sexual anguish. The device within her became an unrelenting torment. It buzzed in an ever-changing tapestry of patterns, constantly shifting, preventing her from becoming accustomed to it. She tried reading to distract herself from its unending prodding. It didn’t work; she found herself reading and re-reading the same sentence blankly, her mind focused on her throbbing need.

Distracting herself with television worked no better. She soon ended up moaning and writhing on the couch, eyes closed, hips grinding uselessly against cream-colored leather cushions. The vibrator worked with evil intent, bringing her to the brink of orgasm time after time, denying her whenever she was about to peak.

She alternated between excitement, frustration, and anger. She desperately wanted Anthony to come home, though she wasn’t quite sure if it was to berate him or to beg for him to be inside her. Her swollen nipples were so sensitive that the fabric of her shirt felt coarse and painful against them. The sensation grew so intense that she was forced to unbutton her blouse, exposing her breasts.

Several times, when the vibrator whirred especially fast, she slipped her hand between her legs, only to find unyielding metal. Tears of helpless frustration ran down her cheeks. She twisted and tugged at the belt, but its clever design defeated her.

After a while, she found that she could squeeze tight around it and it would turn off. The respite was always much too brief, though; as soon as she relaxed, it began its insidious buzzing again. She felt sore and aching. The constant torture infuriated her, but she still could not stop herself from moaning, or prevent her hips from arching uselessly up into the air each time it brought her close. She wanted to scream her frustration at Anthony, pound her fists into his chest…and she wanted him to punish her for it, to strip her and force himself into her.

The worst part of it all was knowing that her reactions didn’t matter. The device did exactly what it was designed to do, and nothing she could do made any difference. It drove her body on, until sweat glistened on her skin and her juices dripped down her thigh, and she couldn’t stop it. So many times, she almost came; and so many times, it stopped at the last instant, leaving her sobbing.

The day moved slowly on. Eileen became so wrapped up in the unending torment that time stopped having any meaning for her. She moaned and shrieked and cursed and wept and sighed and moaned some more, so focused on the evil thing inside her that she didn’t even hear Anthony’s car pull up into the driveway.

It wasn’t until his key slid into the lock that she realized he was home. She buttoned her blouse quickly, feeling suddenly ashamed. Modesty protected, she rushed to the door to see him.

“Good evening, my darling little whore! How was your day?” He smiled at her and closed the door.

“You bastard! How could you do this to me! How dare you—”

The vibrator started a raspy, powerful buzz. She let out a surprised, desperate cry. Her hands clutched his shirt. She pulled him close and kissed him madly, hips grinding into him. “Please!” she pleaded. “Please!”

“Ah, so that’s how your day has been.” He grinned. “I can’t say that I’m surprised.” He disentangled from her grip. “You’ll get what you need. But not yet.”

She followed him into the living room. “This isn’t a game! You can’t do this to me!”

He smirked. “Are you sure? I’m having fun. Aren’t you?”

“Anthony! Please take this off of me!”

“No.” He settled into the couch, then patted the cushion next to him. “Right now I am going to unwind and watch the news.”

She sat down grudgingly beside him. The vibrator hummed faster. Her breathing quickened.

“Hmm.” He frowned at her. “You’re still bending over when you get revved up. Remember what I said about posture? Proper posture is important.” He rose. “And I think I have just the thing for that. Wait here.”

The vibrator sped up powerfully. By the time Anthony came back, Eileen was squirming on the couch, eyes closed, moaning. It stopped abruptly. She opened her eyes, whimpering her need.

“Here. Let me unfasten that belt.” Anthony knelt in front of her. She watched him, panting, while he slid her skirt up to expose her. He unlocked the front of the belt. She let out a long sigh of relief when the vibrator slid out of her.

“Open your legs.” He held up a small leather bundle. “Which one do you think we should use?”

“No!” she cried as soon as she recognized it.

“Oh, yes,” he said. He unfolded the bundle of metal anal probes he had used on her in London. His hand hovered for a moment over the largest probe. She trembled.

“Well, perhaps not.” He drew out the middle-sized probe, grinning, and tied a piece of long, thin cord to its base. That done, he squeezed a strip of lube along the probe. “Nice and wide now, little whore. Remember what I showed you this morning.”

“Anthony, no! Stop! I don’t want—”

“Shush, slave.” He clamped one hand over her mouth, cutting her off mid-sentence. His other hand brought the probe up to her. The cold blunt metal touched her ass. She shivered. Anthony watched her expectantly. She gripped the edge of the couch and, heart pounding, pressed herself onto it. “Nnnngh!” Smooth metal slid deep. “Mmmmfgh!”

“Good. That’s very good.” Anthony released her and smiled. Her eyes widened as he picked up the vibrator. He pressed it back into her with a smirk. When he locked the band in place, it held the probe firmly in her ass. “Stand up.”

“Uuunh!” A tremor ran through her body. She stood with great difficulty. The probe shifted in her ass. Her nipples swelled painfully against her blouse.

“Good. You’re becoming very obedient. Turn around.” He tugged the cord up through the waistband of her skirt. With one hand, he grabbed a handful of her hair. He wrapped the cord around her hair and tied it tightly. “There. That should improve your posture. Sit down.”

She sat down very carefully, back held ramrod-straight. The cord was taut between her hair and the probe; the slightest slouch caused it to pull her hair painfully and tug on the hard metal up her ass.

Anthony turned his attention back to the television. She sat very still next to him, hardly daring to breathe.

The vibrator started a slow, faint thrumming. Eileen arched her back. “Please, Anthony, you can’t do this,” she whispered.

“Hush! Of course I can.” He rested his hand on her knee.

It sped up. A trembling cascade of excitement trilled through her body. “Anthony!” she cried desperately. “Anthony…oh!” She shuddered. The cord yanked her head back. The rod shifted in her ass, pressing against the vibrating device through a thin wall of flesh. She jumped, startled. The cord pulled her hair painfully. She cried out reflexively.

“See? Posture matters!” he smirked. “Now hush. I’m trying to watch this.”

He kept her there beside him through the entire news program. The vibrator hummed, forever driving her toward an orgasm that never came. Every time she bent over, a tug on the back of her head and a pull of the probe nestled up her ass reminded her to keep her back straight. The posture forced her aching nipples against her blouse. “It hurts!” she whimpered. He made no reply.

She came to the brink of orgasm three more times before the program was over. Each one was harder to take than the last. By the time he turned off the television, she was making a constant, low anguished wail. “You poor thing,” he said sympathetically. “I’m going to go make dinner now.” He kissed her on the forehead and left her there, moaning on the couch.

She remained seated, impaled on the unrelenting objects, while he prepared dinner. The vibrator ran in an alternating fast-slow, fast-slow pattern that sent shock waves from her pussy all the way up to her head. Anthony ignored her cries of frustration while he went about the business of tending to his cooking. Each near-orgasm made her squeeze tightly around the probe. Her face flushed red. Sweat beaded between her breasts.

“Dinner’s ready!” Anthony called.

She looked up, hopeful that at last her torment was over. That wild spark of hope faded as Anthony led her to the table still bound by the hair to the probe, with the vibrator still locked inside her dripping sex.

The anguish continued. She barely tasted anything; her focus stayed on the irregular, teasing vibrations, and on the unbending metal rod. Anthony watched her throughout dinner. The corners of his lips turned up every time she moaned, as if her unwanted, helpless arousal amused him.

When they were both finished, he rose, pointing to the floor. “On your knees.” He walked over to her, unzipping his pants.

She thought about refusing.
No
! she wanted to say.
This is the end of your little game. You will not do this to me any more!
Instead, she found herself kneeling obediently on the kitchen floor. He bent down to unbutton her blouse, and pulled it open.

“Aren’t you going to…you know, unlock me?”

“As a sex slave, you must be able to perform your duties despite whatever distractions you may be confronted with. When you have a cock in your mouth, it is your job to put all of your energy into servicing it. No matter what else is happening to you.” He moved closer. “Understand?”

She nodded meekly. Butterflies churned in her tummy. She leaned forward toward him, lips parted. The cord pulled tight, jerking on her hair, tugging at the probe. “Unh!” she said. “I can’t—”

He moved his hips forward. Eileen swirled her tongue around the head of his cock and drew it into her mouth without thinking.

“Mmm, that’s very good.” He took the small, flat remote from his pocket. “Service me. Concentrate on my cock. Don’t let yourself be distracted.” He pressed a button that started the vibrator humming steadily.

Eileen started moving her head. Anthony stood back just far enough that each time she moved forward to take him deeper, the cord pulled tight on her hair. The blunt metal probe in her ass shifted with each motion. Her mind flashed to the party, and what it had felt like to be penetrated everywhere at once. A dizzying wave of excitement washed over her. She sucked him deeper, heedless of the way the cord pulled her hair.

He pressed another button. The vibrator sped up. Eileen moved faster. The buzzing spread through her; she felt it in the probe, in the metal strap that held the device locked inside her, even in the belt around her waist. The hard strap between her legs conducted the vibration straight to her clit. She gasped around the erect penis in her mouth and moved faster still. Her hands slid up his hips. When he started to thicken, she had just an instant to realize that he was about to come before her own long-delayed orgasm hit her.

All of the tension and all of the frustration of that entire day went pouring into that orgasm. Her vision faded. Her toes curled. She was only dimly aware of her scream, of Anthony’s hands on her head, of the way he was shoving his cock into her mouth over and over. He gushed wet salty semen, which flowed freely from her lips and spilled down the sides of her neck.

Anthony released her. The vibrator slowed and halted. Eileen felt every muscle in her body quivering, alive with ecstasy. Her toes gradually uncurled.

“Did that feel good?”

She nodded. “Oh, God yes.”

“Go get your key.”

“What?” Her heart thudded. “But why?”

“You are a sex slave. Attending to your slave duties is your number one priority at all times. When you have a penis in your mouth, it is your job to concentrate first and foremost on that. You may come if you want to, but you are not allowed to let that interfere with servicing the cock. That means you may not stop sucking, even when you come. You failed to do this. Now, go get your key.”

“Anthony!”

“If you don’t obey, you’ll be punished even more. Go!”

She gulped. The look in his eye suggested what might happen if she failed to do as he said. She rose slowly, back straight. As he watched, she made her slow, careful way out of the kitchen, trying with each step not to put any pressure on the cord.