Evocation (3 page)

After a while, she grew restless and bored with unpacking, and decided to explore. The elaborate renovation and modernization of the house that Anthony had done downstairs didn’t seem to extend to the upper floor. Most of the upstairs doors opened into small bedrooms like the one in which her boxes were stored, each equipped with a small bed and night stand and each with a musty, disused feeling. One door revealed a narrow bathroom with an antique pull-chain toilet, a small porcelain sink, and white lace curtains.

The only upstairs room she found that seemed to be in use was Anthony’s office, a large space with a computer desk and an enormous drafting table. A worn leather office chair on wheels sat in front of the largest monitor Eileen had ever seen, and stacks of drawings and papers sat piled around the desk in barely controlled chaos.

The door at the very end of the hallway was locked. Eileen twisted the knob fruitlessly.

She went back downstairs to find Anthony cleaning the enormous table in the formal dining room. “Anthony!” she said. “What’s in the room upstairs at the end of the hall?”

He grinned his most mischievous grin, eyes sparkling. “I was wondering when you would ask me that. Follow me. Let me show you something.”

Eileen followed him into the master bedroom. From the drawer in the night stand, he took a small, intricate wooden box, long but very narrow, and handed it to her. “Here. Look inside.”

She opened the tiny latch and flipped back the lid. Within it, nestled in red satin, was an old-fashioned skeleton key made of silvery metal. She lifted it out of the box; it felt surprisingly heavy in her hand. Her name had been engraved in a flowing script along the barrel of the key.

“What is this?”

“It’s a key, silly!” he answered. “For the door. See for yourself!”

She half-walked, half-ran up the stairs, suddenly overcome with curiosity. The key fit easily into the keyhole on that mysterious door, and it opened outward toward her.

She had expected to see a room on the other side, but the door opened into a tiny space that looked like it had once been a closet. A narrow flight of wooden stairs angled steeply upward. They seemed to be an architectural afterthought, installed in the confined space long after the house had been built. She climbed the high wooden steps carefully, and found herself on a tiny landing barely large enough to stand on, facing another locked door.

This one, too, submitted to the ministrations of the key and opened silently. Eileen stepped through into the room beyond.

The space looked as though it had once been an attic that had been partly refinished but never quite completed. It was as wide as the bedrooms downstairs, and very long. The floor underfoot was made of narrow strips of wood, rough and slightly uneven. Daylight flooded in through three dormer-style windows extending outward through the wall, illuminating the space in a golden glow. Shafts of light hung like living things in the dust that danced in the air. The ceiling overhead slanted upward steeply along the length of the room, scarcely five feet tall where it met the outside wall, but more than twice that on the other wall.

The entire length of the room was filled with a jumbled assortment of things that she had to work to make out.

Beneath the window nearest to her, Eileen saw a low, wide bed, made of black iron, with a mattress that seemed to be covered in leather. Four manacles on short chains rested on the corners of the mattress, open, waiting. The chains seemed welded to the bed frame.

Farther down, in front of the center window, she saw an old-fashioned stock, a heavy plank of wood with holes for a person’s head and arms resting on a wood pillar. It reminded her of the things she had seen in movies about colonial America, devices into which a person could be locked in the town square for some transgression, and ridiculed by the people passing by.

Farther down still was the thing that Anthony had strapped her to in London, the device he’d called a “Sybian,” with its modifications—the dildo projecting through the upward arm, the cuffs into which he had placed her wrists.

At the end of the room were two cages in black iron, one very tall and narrow, barely large enough to stand in, the other wide but only a couple feet high. The door to each cage stood open. Each had a large, black metal padlock hanging from the latch

The far wall, opposite the windows, was lined with pegboards. From metal pegs hung an array of objects—a wide variety of paddles, some narrow, some wide, some made of leather and lined with fur, others made of wood; blindfolds; gags in different sizes and colors; clamps of all descriptions, some attached to long, thin chains; cuffs; coils of rope. Below the pegboards ran a long shelf with a row of dildos in an astonishing array of sizes, colors, and textures lined up neatly along it.

Large bins of some white plastic were stacked in one corner. Vague shapes, unrecognizable through the milky plastic, lurked inside.

From the ceiling overhead, heavy chains dangled. Round metal rings were bolted to the floor at regular intervals.

Eileen took a trembling step backward. Strange, conflicted emotions battled in her. Her eyes moved wildly around the room, not quite able to take it all in. The arousal she had battled down earlier came roaring through her, causing sudden dampness between her legs. Her nipples hardened in response to the tension and longing that bubbled up from some deep wellspring inside her. She took another half-step back and ran into Anthony, who had climbed the stairs silently behind her.

His hands slid around her from behind. “What do you think, little whore? I made this room just for you. When you are disobedient, you must be punished.” He kissed the back of her neck tenderly. “This is where your punishments will take place.” He cupped her breasts. His fingers danced over her nipples, drawing a moan from her. “And if experience is any indication, this is where you will have many orgasms indeed.”

She shrank away from the room and its contents, pressing herself against him. She felt his erection through his pants, pressing into the cleft of her ass, and shuddered. The feel of his hands on her breasts brought the roiling arousal almost painfully to the surface. Without intending to, she ground her hips back against him. The feel of his hands on her body, his warmth, and the firmness of the bulge between his legs pressing against her were suddenly overwhelming. In that moment, the thing she wanted most in the world was for him to strip her bare, chain her down to that bed, and force his cock roughly into her. She moaned over and over again, pussy clenching.

Then the moment was gone, and horror replaced the arousal. She squirmed away from him and fled for the stairs, nearly tripping in her haste to escape. The key dropped from her hands and bounced down the stairs after her. Anthony watched her go, smiling slightly. The door below slammed shut. He followed her at a leisurely pace. When he reached the key, he bent and picked it up, rolling it thoughtfully between his fingers.

After he had locked the room back up and gone downstairs, he found Eileen sitting on a corner of the couch watching TV. He grinned and moved to kiss her, but she pulled from him and turned away.

He went into the bedroom to return the key to its box in the night stand. When it was safely tucked away, he thought for a moment before he opened the drawer again and withdrew a compact folding knife—the same one he had used in London.

When he came back out, Eileen was still sitting exactly where she had been, arms folded. Slowly, deliberately, Anthony stripped naked. A muscle in her neck twitched, but she gave no other indication that she was even aware of him.

He sat next to her on the couch and moved to kiss her. She drew away again. He grabbed her arm and pulled her body toward his. She tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. He turned her around and kissed her hard. She squirmed and twisted in his grasp.

He unfolded the knife one-handed with a practiced motion. She froze, her breath catching in her throat. He slipped the blade sideways under her shirtsleeve, and with one sweep sliced it almost all the way across. A flap of fabric fell away from her breast. She shivered and gasped.

Anthony bent over to wrap his lips around her exposed nipple. She pressed into him, fingers curling through his hair. His tongue swirled around her nipple, and she sighed softly.

With the sigh, her façade crumbled into dust. She could no longer push the arousal away. He straightened. She looked up at him, chest heaving, and made no move to resist as his strong hands tore away what was left of her shirt. Cold bright metal caressed her breast. She looked up at him, naked longing in her eyes, and her nipple tightened against the edge of the blade. “Yes,” she said softly.

He set the knife carefully down on the coffee table before he turned his attention to her pants. She neither helped nor hindered as he unfastened them and pulled them from her. Wetness glistened between her folds. “From now on,” he said, “I want you to wear only skirts or dresses. Something that gives me easy access to your cunt. Now turn over.”

He took her by the leg and turned her face down. He grabbed both of her ankles and dragged her around so she was kneeling over the cushion. She trembled, aching with longing and need, and waited for what would happen next.

The wait didn’t last long. He wrapped his hands around her waist and penetrated her deeply from behind. “Oooong, God!” she moaned. She arched her back onto him and buried her face in the cushion. Tears of release flowed from her eyes. He took her slowly but firmly, driving into her throbbing pussy over and over until waves of pleasure washed over her. She came deeply, over and over, one orgasm rolling into the next.

She was only barely aware of his orgasm, the warm wet splat deep inside her. He slid slowly out, but her own orgasm kept rolling over her, while she shuddered and moaned and wept into the couch.

Finally, slowly, the feelings ebbed. She sniffled and turned to face him. He started to speak, but she kissed him, urgently, cutting off his words. He blinked in surprise, then returned her kiss. His hands wrapped around her, stroking her skin tenderly. Her breasts pressed against his chest. She drew a long, shaky breath. “Thank you,” she said, not quite sure why.

The doorbell rang.

The mood shattered. Eileen jumped with a shriek. She rushed headlong into the bedroom, her face red with embarrassment, leaving her pants and the torn scraps of her shirt behind. Anthony rose and gathered his clothing.

The doorbell rang again just as he finished dressing. He crossed calmly to the door and opened it. A man in a catering uniform stood on the other side. “You’re the one having the party tonight?”

“Come in, come in!” Anthony smiled jovially. “You’re right on time.”

Eileen came back out of the bedroom again dressed in a blouse and a short patterned skirt. She gave Anthony a small, self-conscious smile. He put his arm around her and they watched the man carry several trays of tiny sandwiches and cheeses into the house. “You can set them up in the dining room, if you would, please,” Anthony said.

They watched him set up. Eileen stayed by Anthony’s side, her hand squeezing his wordlessly. When he had finally finished and left, Anthony kissed Eileen’s cheek. “This will be a very nice evening, I think,” he said. “The company of friends is always good, don’t you agree? And I’ve worked hard to put it all together.” He kissed her again, very gently.

Chapter 2

For the next couple of hours, Eileen stayed out of Anthony’s way while he puttered around, arranging the trays, straightening the living room and dining room. Everything seemed perfect to her, but he still fussed. A little kernel of uncertainty gnawed at her; she still didn’t really know many of Anthony’s friends, and she hadn’t even been aware that he was planning to host a party until they were on their way back from the honeymoon.

The sun had set when the doorbell rang once more. Eileen vaguely recognized the couple from the reception, but couldn’t quite put names to the faces. A short while later, the doorbell rang again, and again after that; soon, the house was filled with chatting people.

Anthony moved easily through the crowd, talking, making introductions. Eileen followed in his wake, nodding and smiling, taking it all in. As the evening went on, she relaxed slightly. After a time she found that she was actually enjoying herself. Anthony’s friends, many of whom he’d known since college, seemed like interesting people, open and friendly, and filled with all sorts of fascinating stories about his past.

Hours passed. The food that had been set out disappeared. The crowd started, almost imperceptibly at first, to thin; people collected their things, hugs and handshakes were exchanged, and the guests departed. After a while, only a handful of people, all of them old friends of Anthony’s, remained.

Anthony took Eileen’s hand. “Will you excuse us for a moment?” he said to nobody in particular and drew her into the bedroom. The door closed behind them.

“Are you having fun, little whore?”

Her cheeks colored. “I wish you wouldn’t call me that. Yes, I’m having fun. Your friends are nice.”

“Mmm, they are,” he said. “I want you to get changed.”

“What?”

“It’s late. I want you to change into something more…appropriate as evening wear. I have something special in mind for you.” He unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it from her shoulders.

“Anthony! What are you doing?”

“Hush. Behave. You know what happens if you are disobedient.” He bent and removed her shoes, then unzipped her skirt and slid it down, leaving her naked. When she was stripped bare, he went into the closet and returned with something silky in his hands. “Put these on.”

Eileen’s heart hammered. She accepted the things he handed her and looked at them uncomprehendingly. Sheer, fine silk, off-white, soft to the touch… She gulped nervously.

“Let me help you.” He took the top part and slipped it over her head. It was loose-fitting and sleeveless, cut very low in the front, with thin straps that went over her shoulders and translucent mesh side panels that revealed the curves of her breasts. The matching shorts, barely more than underwear, slipped on easily.

He stepped back to look at her. “You are a very beautiful woman, Eileen. You look incredible.” His lips touched hers, causing her to shrink away. She backed up away from him.

“Anthony! This is…obscene! I can’t go out there dressed like this!”

He kissed her lower lip softly. “Okay,” he said. “You don’t have to go out there if you don’t want to.” His body pressed up tight against hers. “What’s going to happen to you can happen right here.”

She backed away again until she came up against the wall. “What—what do you mean?”

“Tonight, one of your most deeply-held fantasies is going to come true.”

“What fantasy? Oh!” Her eyes widened. “Anthony! No! You can’t!”

“Shh.” His hands slid around her breasts; she could feel their warmth through the silk. His fingers stroked her nipples. “There is nothing you can do to prevent what is going to happen. None of it will be your fault. Remember that.” His fingers tightened on her nipples, coaxing them to stand at attention. One hand slid down between her legs, pressed against her clit through the cloth.

She trembled. A roiling mix of emotions washed over her—fear, desire, longing, shame, disgust. “What are you doing? Stop!”

“No.” His fingers moved back and forth over her clit. “I want your need to be written all over you for everyone to see. I want your nipples to stand up. I want to see the wetness between your legs.” His fingers moved faster, causing her knees to buckle.

“Anthony! No!”

“Don’t fight,” he said. “It won’t change anything. You can’t stop this.” He felt dampness seeping through the thin cloth. “That’s what I thought. Your body speaks much louder than your words. You want this, too.”

“No! Anthony! No!”

“Hush.” He kissed her lips softly. “You can’t stop it. Just let it happen. I’m going to open the door now.”

“NO!!” Her heart thudded. “No! I…I can’t! I can’t face seeing other people like this!”

“No? Hmm. I might be able to help you with that.” He crossed to the night stand and took out a blindfold. Her heart skipped a beat, and she shook. He pulled it over her head and settled it over her eyes. As the world disappeared, her breathing came in short gasps. “There,” he said. His lips touched hers. “Now you don’t have to see anyone at all. Have fun, little whore.”

He stepped away from her. She tried not to think about his intentions; the thing that he was suggesting seemed too much to bear. “Anthony! Anthony, where are you? Anthony!”

The door to the bedroom opened. Eileen heard footsteps. “She’s ready,” Anthony’s voice said. The door closed.

Eileen trembled. Footsteps came closer. A hand touched her arm. She jumped and skittered away from the touch. Her skin felt hot; her nipples strained against the smooth fabric, and she felt more wetness leak from between her legs.

A soft touch on her hair. She jumped again, startled. “Anthony?” Hands slid over her shoulders, began massaging her. She tried to pull away, but they tightened firmly on her shoulders. Another hand touched her arm again. She cried out. More hands slid over her breasts.

“No!” she said. She squirmed and pulled away. A hand grabbed her upper arm. Someone else seized her by the wrist and spun her partway around. Two more hands began massaging her shoulders again. She felt someone press against her from behind. Another person pressed into the front of her body, sandwiching her. She felt a touch on her lips. Her heart leaped into her throat, and a sharp stab of fear pierced her. She turned her head away.

Two hands grabbed her hair and forced her head back. Someone kissed her roughly; she felt a tongue invade her mouth. A strong hand gripped her other wrist. The hands on her shoulders continued their massage, powerful fingers working into her muscles. She cried out, but the sound was muffled by the unwanted kiss. She twisted and turned, but the people around her held her firmly.

The lips left hers. Strong hands grabbed her breasts roughly. “Look how hard her nipples are,” a voice said. “This really turns her on!”

She screamed and began struggling in earnest. “No! Let go of me!” She twisted one wrist free and shoved at the person in front of her. “Let go of me!”

The hands on her shoulders moved down to her elbows, pinned her arms behind her back. The hands on her breasts slid in circles, fondling and caressing.

She screamed again and fought with all her strength. The person behind her, caught off guard by her ferocity, lost his grip. Her arms flailed free and she shoved the person in front of her as hard as she could, sending him stumbling backward. Someone grabbed at her left arm. She moved away quickly. “Leave me alone! Don’t touch me!”

Eileen turned blindly, trying to figure out where her assailants were. She could sense them closing around her. Someone made another grab at her. She dodged backward, and came up against another person who had moved in behind her. His arms closed around her body. Instantly, more people crowded in; hands caught her wrists and elbows and pulled her arms out to her sides. The person behind her slid his hands up over her breasts. She gasped at the sensation. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Wetness dripped down her thigh.

Someone else grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head back. Before she could scream, lips pressed against hers. A tongue slid between her lips. Blunt fingers forced themselves between her legs and worked against her clit through the silky fabric. She shuddered and moaned. The tongue pressed further into her mouth. Her hips ground against the fingers between her legs. “Look at her!” came a voice from somewhere beside her. “She wants it!”

“Nnngh! Nnngh!” Eileen squirmed and thrashed until he broke the kiss. “No!”

She felt a pair of hands slide down her body and up under her shirt. Whoever was behind her cupped her breasts, smooth palms on bare skin. Eileen struggled fiercely. The hands tightened on her arms, her wrists, her breasts. Bodies pressed all around her, sandwiching her and pinning her in place.

“Get her clothes off!”

Eileen felt her arms lifted up over her head. Several pairs of hands slid up her body, taking the sheer top with them. She felt her face flush red and was suddenly glad of the blindfold, which prevented her from seeing all these people staring at her nakedness. “No!” she said weakly, unable to believe what was happening to her. She tried to cover her breasts with her hands. The people gathered around her pulled her arms away from her body and pinned them to her sides. Another pair of hands ran up her body and over her breasts. She cried out and bucked sharply. “No! No, stop!” A powerful wave of pleasure washed through her, so strong she almost came right there on the spot.

Hands slid down her sides, pushed the flimsy shorts down her legs. She thrashed and struggled in sudden panic, face red with shame, but the group gathered around her held her pinned too tightly to move. “No! No!” she cried, twisting and turning. “No! Stop!”

A different voice came from somewhere beside her. “Get her down. Hold her!” Hands pushed her to her knees. More hands gripped her shoulders and thrust her down onto all fours.

Her wrists and ankles were held tightly, preventing her from rising. Fear, shame, and burning heat all roiled like a storm within her. She felt her pussy twitching and blushed. Someone grabbed her hair again and pulled her head up. The head of a cock, warm and dripping, pushed against her lips.

“Nnnnnngh!” She clamped her jaw shut to prevent the intrusion. The unseen man in front of her pulled her hair sharply, painfully, but she stubbornly refused to open her mouth. “Nnnngh!”

“Maybe this will make her open up.” Someone seized her hips from behind. She barely had time to realize what was happening before a hard cock plowed deeply into her dripping pussy. She screamed in shock, and instantly the cock in front of her slid into her mouth and down her throat.

Her body responded exactly as it had been trained to do. She came, powerfully, overwhelmingly, the ecstasy so intense that she felt she would pass out.

“Oh! God, her cunt is strong!” the man behind her said. “She’s squeezing on my cock….ooooh!” He shook and thrust deeper. Eileen registered the hard wet slap of his orgasm inside her. A split second later, the cock in her mouth twitched and spurted, flooding her mouth with wet salty goo. She coughed and gagged, ripples of pleasure still flowing through her.

The hands released her hips. Whoever was behind her moved away, and another person knelt to take his place. The cock slipped out of her mouth. She took a long, deep, shuddering gasp, and another rigid cock, this one much thicker than the last had been, shoved roughly into her from behind. “Nnnngh!” she cried. Come spilled out of her mouth and splattered on her hand.

“Oh, that’s hot!” another voice said. “I want to try her mouth next.” The man behind her took her hair in his hand and pulled, and another erect penis pressed against her lips, forcing its way into her mouth.

The two of them began rocking her back and forth, sliding smoothly in and out of her. She felt overwhelmed and helpless, unable even to struggle. Her own body felt like it had become a traitor. The knowledge that another man was going to come in her mouth disgusted her, yet that did not change the fact that each time he slid against the back of her throat, a white-hot jolt of pleasure shot all the way down her body, making her tighten and moan. She felt the tension inside herself growing inexorably toward another unwanted orgasm. Her body trembled. Tears leaked from under the blindfold.

Eileen couldn’t help what happened next. Her body reacted on its own, outside of her volition, and convulsed into another orgasm. A part of her recoiled, horrified at her own response. The pleasure built higher and higher, too powerful to contain, until it peaked in an explosion of wrenching intensity. When it passed, she sagged backward against the man behind her, trembling, too weak to resist.

At that point, the men began taking her in earnest. She knelt passively, yielding to them, as they drove hard into mouth and pussy. With each thrust, the man behind her shoved her head down, making her take the cock deeper in her mouth. She surrendered helplessly. He moved faster, his own shaft thrusting hard and deep into her. “Take it, slut!” he growled. “Take it!”

The cock in her mouth swelled. The hands pushed her head forward until it slid completely down her throat and her nose touched pubic hair. She felt a hot slick torrent of wetness gush down her throat, and then she was lost, carried away by another orgasm that wracked her body and overwhelmed her mind. She was barely even aware of the cock jerking and spewing inside her grasping pussy.

The hands released her, and she slumped to the floor, still twitching from aftershocks. The world was reduced to nothing but touch; she was vividly aware of every fiber of carpet against her skin, the wetness that oozed down along her thigh, the fall of her hair on the nape of her neck. Even the slightest caress of air moving across her skin was the most exquisite rapture.

“Bring her over here,” a voice called.

Hands took her wrists and ankles and lifted her from the floor. She hung between them, moaning softly. The hands carried her to the bed, sat her down straddling someone. She felt warm skin under her body.

More hands held her in place. She felt soft lips wrap around both her nipples and shivered in pleasure. Warm wet tongues curled around her nipples, caressing, coaxing them into hardening once more. Hands lifted her hips and then settled her onto a hard cock beneath her.

She sighed and began moving her hips. The intensity of her orgasms had swept away the last vestiges of resistance; now she was a willing participant, actively involved in her own gang rape. She rolled her hips back and forth as she rode him, taking herself on him.

Someone behind her took her by the wrists, pinned her hands behind her back. The restraint excited her more, prompted her to ride him faster. A craving grew in her; she wanted to feel his pleasure, and savor the warm liquid surge of his orgasm.

Fingers dug into her shoulders. With each motion of her hips, they pressed her down, making her take him deeper. She moaned with pleasure and bucked harder against him, squeezing around his shaft at every stroke, pleading with her body for him to come. She felt a shudder pass through him, herd him gasp, felt him arch his hips up to meet her.