Evocation (4 page)

He came with a roar. She impaled herself on his cock, pressing it as deep as she could. His shaft throbbed inside her as it pumped its load of thick hot come into her. The feel of hungry mouths licking and sucking her nipples, strong hands holding her wrists behind her back, and warm wetness jetting up into her all combined into a torrent of carnal sensation that sent another orgasm slamming through her. She threw back her head and screamed in ecstasy. Someone next to her cried out in an echo of her pleasure, sending thick ribbons of slippery goo splattering across her cheek and neck.

She felt herself lifted off of her mystery lover before her orgasm had even subsided. The mattress shifted as people moved around, and then she was placed on top of someone else. Hands slid up her body to her breasts.

She didn’t wait for him to enter her; instead, she drove herself eagerly on him as she straddled him. The sensation very nearly triggered another orgasm.

“Bend her over!” came a voice hoarse with lust. She complied willingly as hands pushed her down. More hands spread her ass cheeks apart, and something cold drizzled down the cleft of her ass. “There, right there,” said the voice. “I have got to fuck that ass.”

The hands on her breasts squeezed more tightly. She felt a sense of pressure at the entrance to her ass, a sudden stretching, and then an incredible feeling of fullness as another hard penis pushed into her depths.

She screamed and drove herself back onto the twin shafts inside her. Nothing she had ever felt before—not the probes Anthony had used on her, not the dildos, not the plugs he had stuffed into her—had prepared her for what it felt like to be penetrated in this way by two warm, stiff cocks. With each thrust, they stretched her and pressed on places inside her that caused small explosions to ripple through her. Every motion made her shake and squirm. She was so lost in the sensation, she barely realized that she was moaning over and over again.

Something warm touched her lips. Instantly, without hesitation, she tilted her head back and opened her mouth to welcome the erection. It slid deep, and she sealed her lips tightly around it, slurping noisily.

All the ways Anthony had used her, all of her fantasies of rape at the hands of pirates, all her secret erotic dreams…not in all her experiences or her imagination had she dreamed it would feel like this. The three unseen men moved in a rhythm that touched every trigger, every little sensitive place inside her, overwhelming her and filling her sexually beyond anything she had known was possible. Every stroke in her mouth sent a jolt running down to her pussy; every plunge into her ass made her contract tightly. She urged them on, faster and faster, moving her hips to meet their thrusts, head bobbing up and down on the cock in her mouth to take it as far as her throat will allow.

“Slow down! You’re going to make me come!” The hands tightened desperately on her breasts as if that could hold off the inevitable. Eileen was beyond hearing, beyond rational thought. Everything seemed intensely arousing to her in her altered state; even the idea of the man in front of her ejaculating in her mouth, which would normally fill her with disgust, turned her on. She slammed back hard against the men beneath her and was rewarded with a geyser of wetness erupting into her.

The world spun. The cock in her mouth spurted its load of wet sticky goo at the exact instant Eileen’s own orgasm hit her, making her gurgle as she came. Hands grabbed her waist tightly, holding her still for a sudden series of hard, powerful thrusts in her ass. She swallowed deeply just as she felt the warm cascade of semen jet into her ass.

After that, she lost track of how many times she came, or what was done to her. It seemed that hardly had one cock stopped spurting in her when it was withdrawn and replaced with another. She didn’t know how many men there were—six, perhaps, or maybe eight—nor how many times they each took her. She tasted her own juices on some of the cocks that were shoved in her mouth, and knew that they had used her before; and once, when she was sitting astride someone, grinding down onto him with her back arched and her own hands fondling her breasts, she felt a gush of wetness spray across her neck and flow down her body. She slid her hands up and down her chest, spreading it around, delighting in the warm slipperiness, and came that way, fondling herself while covered in an unseen man’s come.

Eventually, the men were all spent and could not be coaxed back into arousal. She lay curled in the middle of the bed, aware of little beyond her own physical bliss. The men shifted around her, moved to gather clothes and belongings. She heard, dimly, the door open and then close again. Her heart slowed, and her arousal, that frenzy of lust that had felt so insatiable, slowly ebbed.

As it did, the rational parts of her mind returned. She shivered as the things she had just experienced replayed like a set of snapshots in her head. She still felt the sticky residue on her face and body, still felt the goo dribbling out from between her legs, still tasted the salty tang of sex on her tongue. With the arousal gone, she felt disconnected from the frantic desire, and in its place horror and disgust crept in. She felt defiled, not just by the sex, but by the knowledge that other men—men who were not her husband!—had known her in a carnal way. She had been celibate for years before meeting Anthony, and had protected her virtue during the entire time they’d been dating, only to give herself sexually to strangers the day after coming back from her honeymoon.

The bed shifted. The blindfold lifted from her eyes. Eileen blinked in the light and looked up at Anthony, smiling down at her. “Did you have fun?”

A wave of shame washed over her. She felt so filthy, so disgusting, she was sure he must loathe the sight of her. He caressed her side gently, and she curled away from him. “How can you even stand to touch me?” she said. Tears filled her eyes. “Look how dirty I am!”

He looked thoughtfully at her. His hand rested lightly on her hip. Presently he stood and walked into the bathroom. She heard water running. After a moment, he returned and lifted her in his arms. She sobbed quietly as he carried her into the bathroom and laid her down in the bath he had drawn for her.

For the second time since the wedding, he bathed her. This time, though, it felt much different than it had in the hotel in London. There, she had felt like an object, like a possession he was cleaning to prepare it for use; this time, he was gentle, even sensual, as he washed the filth from her body with a soapy sponge. His eyes were filled with such tenderness that she almost couldn’t meet his gaze. She had been certain that when he saw how she had been defiled, he would never want to touch her again, so the kind, tranquil way he washed her clean surprised and confused her.

He used the sponge to soap her thoroughly, his touch soft and gentle. She neither helped nor hindered him, instead hanging inertly in the water while he worked. When he had finished, he settled on the edge of the tub and washed her hair. His hands massaged her scalp.

When at last he was satisfied, he rinsed her and wrapped her in a warm, fluffy towel. After he had dried her, he picked her up again and carried her back to the bed. His hands caressed her cheek. “What did you think of the party?”

The tears welled up again. Great shuddering sobs wracked her body. “How can you stand to touch me after what those men did to me?”

He massaged her shoulders gently. “I wanted those men to do that to you. You are a sex slave. Part of what that means is I can give you to other people if I choose.”

She flailed and beat her hands on his chest. “Why? Why would you do that? No man would want someone who has been spoiled like that! You’ve ruined me!”

He caught her hands easily. “Ruined you? How?”

“Because!” she sobbed. “Because I am your wife! And now I’ve…I’ve been…I’ve had sex with other men! You must think I’m disgusting!”

“Why would I think that?” He held her wrists in one hand and smoothed the hair away from her face with the other. “I am the one who made it all happen. I spent quite a bit of time arranging this evening for you. It takes more work to put together a gang rape than you might think! I chose each one of the people very carefully to make sure you would enjoy it.”

“Anthony! They raped me!”

“Mmm. Yes, they did. I heard it! I was outside the door listening. How many times did you come?”

“That…I don’t know!” Fresh tears flowed.

“It sounded like about half a dozen or so to me, but I’m guessing there were probably more. I’m sure there must have been times when your mouth was full and I couldn’t hear you screaming.”

More sobs shook her body. “How could you do this to me?”

“Do what?” he asked innocently. “This evening in specific, or making you into a sex slave in general?”

“All of it!”

“Well, now.” He undressed slowly and methodically. “Do you remember when we first started seeing each other, how we talked about having sex?”

She nodded. “I told you I wanted to wait.”

“And do you remember what else you told me? About your sexual fantasies? About how you would imagine being kidnapped by pirates? Or how you would picture yourself as a princess dragged off to the evil warlord’s castle? Do you remember the way you said all of your fantasies were about being taken against your will?”

“That doesn’t mean I want it for real!”

“Eileen, look at me.” He gently turned her face toward his. “Tell me the truth. Have you ever, in your entire life, even once had an orgasm when you weren’t thinking about being raped? Have you ever been able to come from regular ordinary sex?”

“What difference does that make?” she wailed.

“Do you remember how you told me, when you said that you wanted to wait, how you found sex boring? That you didn’t see the point in it?”

“So?”

He smiled. His fingers traced a lazy path around her breast and down her body. “Would you prefer a normal, ordinary marriage? Maybe one with boring, pointless sex that never pleased you? A life where you never had an orgasm, never felt sexual at all, until you woke up one day five years down the road and realized that your sexual self felt completely empty?”

She turned away from him silently. “How many orgasms have you had in the time we’ve been married?” he continued. “How many of the things we have done together make your heart beat faster and your body sing? Would you go back to a sexless relationship if you could?”

He lay down on his side behind her and wrapped an arm around her. His hand cupped her breast. “What happened to you this evening was something you have fantasized about for years. I made your fantasy come true. And the reality was even better than the fantasy, wasn’t it?”

She still did not reply. Her sobbing subsided, and she nestled back against him.

“The fact is that you can only orgasm if you feel like you’re being coerced. Who knows why that is? It’s the way you are, and that’s why I do these things to you.” His fingers stroked her nipple. “Being a sex slave is what makes sex enjoyable for you.”

“No! It’s not! That’s not true!”

“It is. When you told me that you couldn’t go back out dressed in that lingerie, and I told you that what was about to happen to you could just as easily be done in here, you had some idea of what I had in mind, didn’t you? You knew that I was going to let a bunch of men rape you. And that excited you, didn’t it? Your nipples got hard and your cunt got all lubed up. You didn’t even try to get away, not really. And when they forced themselves on you, it made you come over and over again.” He kissed the back of her neck tenderly. “Do you know what the best part about being a sex slave is?”

She shook her head. He rolled her over on her back and pulled her legs apart. “It’s always rape. Even if you want it, it’s still rape, because you can’t say no.” He moved on top of her, pressing her down with his weight.

She struggled. “No! Anthony, no!”

“See?” he grinned. “You can’t say no.” His hands found her wrists and pinned them above her head. With one shove, he was deep inside her. She screamed and convulsed.

He held her wrists tightly and leaned over her to kiss her gently. Her scream gently subsided into a moan. Her lips parted for his tongue.

He took her that way, thrusting hard and slow into her, his lips on hers, until her back arched and she writhed into orgasm. His own orgasm answered hers a few seconds later, and with a shudder he spurted deep into her.

When he was finished, he slipped out of her and curled on the bed next to her panting. His lips kissed her ear softly. “Do you still think I don’t want you?”

“No,” she whispered, voice tinged with doubt.

“Good.” He kissed the center of her forehead. It’s time for bed, little whore.” He leaned over to reach under the bed and drew out the same set of cuffs on the same long chains he had used on her in London. Her heart beat faster, but she made no outward sign as he locked her, wrist and ankle, into the cuffs, chaining her to the bed. “Sleep well. Tomorrow is a very exciting day. Very exciting indeed!” He drew the covers up over both of them, and she soon drifted to sleep, embraced in chains and his arms.

Chapter 3

Eileen woke the next morning to the feel of hands caressing her skin. She opened her eyes slowly. Anthony, showered and dressed in his bathrobe, was leaning over her. He had already freed her from the cuffs and was massaging her shoulders gently with warm oil. As she stirred, he poured a thin stream of oil down over her breasts and her belly. His hands continued to work, sliding down her sides, across her hips, then back up over her breasts to her shoulders, again and again. It felt marvelously relaxing, and she sighed and closed her eyes again.

The memories of the night before came pouring in. Her pussy clenched and moistened. Her eyes flew open. “Anthony!”

“Hush. Relax. You’ll undo all my work!” His soothing hands slid over her body. “Here. Turn over. Let me massage your back.”

He helped her to roll over in the bed. She felt him pour more of the oil on her back. Strong, practiced hands worked her body. She wanted to let go and simply relax into the massage, but the memories—those filthy, degrading memories—kept intruding. She remembered hard cocks shoving themselves into every part of her body, but even more clearly than that she remembered her own humiliating eagerness, how quickly rape had turned to willingness, how enthusiastically she had given herself to a room full of men she couldn’t even see.

Was Anthony right? Was being made to take deviant, vulgar sexual acts the only way she could enjoy sex? Did that make her a sex slave? She could no longer tell herself that she only let him do these things to her because she was far from home in a strange country; now, back in her own city, she had many places she could go, yet she still remained, still accepted the shameful, degrading acts he forced on her.

Her body still remembered, too. Her body still retained the sensation of being taken by many men at once. Anthony’s hands worked down the small of her back, slid up over her butt. The touch spawned a sudden aching flash of sensation; she remembered how it had felt to be penetrated twice, the full tightness of two erect cocks pushing inside her, and she arched to press herself against his fingers.

Anthony took his hands away, laughing. “No, little whore. I know you want it, but I’m not going to use you this morning. Doctor’s orders!”

“What?”

“Did you forget? You have an appointment with Dr. Moreland today.”

“What? Why?” She looked back at him, confused. There seemed to be something she was supposed to remember; what was it? “I don’t need to see him again!”

“Oh, but you do,” Anthony said. “Today is going to be an interesting day for you. We’ll be starting two new parts of your training! Now get up and get ready. He charges a pretty hefty fee for cancellations.”

Eileen rose from the bed resentfully. “What new parts of my training?” The word “training” felt awkward and heavy in her mouth.

“Well, first, we’re going to make you want it. At least physically. By this time next month, you’ll be constantly craving sex, all the time.” He grinned. “I mean even more than you already do. Your body will yearn for it, day and night, rain or shine. That part is Dr. Moreland’s job.” He slipped off his bathrobe and started dressing. “The other part, which is my job, is training you to be the best lay in Boston. Did you ever see that movie The Karate Kid?“

She shook her head, surprised at the sudden change in direction. “What? No. Why? What does that have to do with anything?”

“Really? You’ve never seen that movie? Pity. We should watch it. Anyway, there’s a scene in there where this karate master makes this kid do a bunch of chores. You know, like painting the house and waxing the car and stuff. So after a while, the kid gets pissed off, right? And then the karate master shows him that by doing all these chores, he has trained his body in how to move to block punches, so that he doesn’t even have to think about it—he just automatically does it.” He buttoned his shirt as he spoke. “Same idea. I’m going to train you so that you will automatically do what I want you to do without even thinking about it. Like, as soon as you feel my cock touch your ass, you’ll automatically arch your back and push yourself onto me. Even if you’re struggling and trying to get away. Or when my cock touches your lips you’ll open right up and take it in, even if I’m grabbing you by the hair and forcing you down. It will take,” he grinned wider, “a lot of practice. Now get showered and get ready to go. Your appointment is in less than an hour!”

Eileen opened her mouth to reply, but Anthony cut her off. “No. Get ready. Go!” He turned her around by the shoulders and pushed her toward the bathroom. “Scoot!”

She showered and dressed automatically: short checkered skirt, button-up blouse, no underwear at Anthony’s insistence. Her mind was in turmoil. She still had not finished processing the events of last night, and Anthony’s words churned up a mix of conflicting emotions inside her. A part of her mind still wanted a normal, decent life; that bit of her couldn’t understand why she was still here, why she hadn’t left him immediately when they returned from their honeymoon.

And yet…the vile, indecent things he did to her stirred something up, something she didn’t seem to be able to let go of. Even the way he made her dress sparked some tiny ember of arousal inside her; a few weeks ago she would never have ventured in public dressed so indecently, but the fact that Anthony wanted her to seemed to make her want it as well.

Something else tickled at the back of her mind as she dressed. Something about the doctor’s appointment. She had a vague memory of going in for some kind of checkup, but it seemed lost in the whirlwind of the wedding. She felt a mental itch, like there was something important she needed to remember, but she couldn’t quite reach it through the fog.

The feeling got stronger in the car. Anthony drove while Eileen looked out the window and chased after the phantom in her head. There was something she was forgetting, she was sure of it. Finally she said, “What is this appointment for?”

“You’ll see.” He flashed her a grin. “You’ll like it.” He put a hand on her thigh and squeezed reassuringly. The rest of the trip passed in silence.

Anthony pulled the car into a vaguely familiar medical park. A sudden, irrational panic set upon Eileen. A powerful sense of dread rose out of nowhere. She turned clutched at his hand. “Anthony, I don’t want to go!”

“Nonsense. This exam is crucial to the next part of your training.” He turned off the car. “Now listen to me. This is important.” His tone demanded attention. “I want you to go in there and do exactly as you are told. Anything you are instructed to do, you must do. Do you understand?” His hand slid up her leg to her thigh.

A churning sea of emotions, vague and undefined, roiled just beneath the surface of her thoughts. The panic grew worse, and along with it came something else…something that reminded her of last night. Her breathing quickened. What did Anthony mean when he talked about it being the doctor’s job to make sure she wanted sex all the time?

And why was she accepting this all so passively? She felt that she should be putting her foot down and demanding to be treated like a decent lady. What had he done to her?

“If you do not do as you’re told,” Anthony continued, “I will hear about it. And that means I will punish you. You’ve seen your special room.” His hand moved under her skirt. Gently, feather-light, his fingers brushed her clit. She gasped from the sensation. “Go.”

The panic faded as quickly as it had come. Meekly, she climbed from the car. He watched her walk through the office doors and smiled to himself. When the doors had closed behind her, he pulled smoothly out of the parking lot and drove away.

A half-familiar man with an open smile was waiting for Eileen. She didn’t even have time to sit down before he approached her, hand outstretched. “Ah, Miss Miller…or rather, Mrs. Porto. Forgive me, please. You’re right on time.”

She took his hand with a puzzled frown.

“Of course, of course,” he said. “Where are my manners? I’m Dr. Moreland. You can call me Aaron. You were so busy with the wedding that you probably don’t remember me. It’s okay. You were focusing on more important things, I’m sure.” He gestured. “This way, please.”

They walked down a short hallway. The doctor grinned genially at her. “How was your honeymoon?”

Eileen blushed and stammered. She had no idea how to answer the question.
It was great, except that my husband decided to turn me into a slave and rape me several times a day? He forced me to masturbate in front of the bellhop? she thought. What would he think of me then? He watched her calmly until she finally said “It was okay, I guess,” and looked away.

He led her into a simple exam room with a large, heavy door. A strong sense of déjà vu came over Eileen. A tall woman with long sandy hair waited in the room, holding a clipboard; Eileen felt as if she should know her, but couldn’t quite remember how or why. The woman was dressed in simple scrubs decorated with a pattern of tiny teddy bears chasing one another around rainbows, printed in bright colors on sky-blue cotton.

The doctor nodded to the woman. “This is my nurse Samantha, who you met last time you were here. She will be assisting me in today’s examination. Now, if you could remove your clothes, please?”

Eileen blushed. “I’m not even sure why I’m here. I don’t really remember making another appointment.”

The doctor nodded. “We will discuss the purpose of this appointment in a moment. If you will kindly get undressed, we can get started.”

“Aren’t you going to give me a gown or something?”

“That won’t be necessary. Disrobe and have a seat on the table, please.”

Still blushing, Eileen fumbled at her clothes. When she had finished stripping, she sat gingerly on the edge of the exam table. Paper crinkled under her.

The doctor looked at her with an appraising eye. “The subject’s demeanor has changed significantly since her first examination. The subject presents in a hypersexualized way, both in her manner of walking and in her manner of sitting. The subject now habitually sits with her legs spread even when disrobed.”

Eileen flushed red and tried to cover herself with her hands. The nurse wrote on the clipboard while he continued, “The subject still shows a powerful shame response to her own sexuality. This aspect of her behavior will most likely prove transitory as the training progresses.”

Eileen shrunk into herself. The casual, offhand way he referred to her, as if she were an inanimate object, made her feel very small in his presence. Anthony’s firm instruction to do as he told her to do created a sense of helplessness. The fact that he wasn’t here didn’t seem to matter; she could still feel him, almost tangibly, as though he were watching over her shoulder. The threat of punishment loomed.

His hands touched her knees, surprisingly gently. He opened her legs again, spreading them wide. Eileen felt Anthony’s presence as an almost physical weight, preventing her from resisting or closing her legs. The doctor took her wrists and slowly drew her hands away from her breasts.

“Lie on your back, please,” he said. She shivered slightly, but could not make herself comply. She felt strangely vulnerable, and something she couldn’t quite identify tugged at her memory.

Gently, softly, the doctor placed his hands on Eileen’s shoulders. “Lie down, please.” He pressed her back, lightly but firmly, until she was lying flat on the table. “The nurse is going to strap you down now. Are you ready for that?”

The sense of déjà vu came back, even stronger than before. She said nothing. The doctor’s hands remained on her shoulders, holding her down. He smiled reassuringly.

She nodded uncertainly. “Okay, I guess.”

The nurse took a pair of wide canvas straps from under the table and used them to strap her arms at her sides. Eileen shuddered and tried to rise, but the doctor held her down. The nurse pulled more straps tightly around her hips, and another set across her shoulders.

“I am going to place your feet in the stirrups now. Is that okay?”

Eileen gulped and nodded hesitantly. Her heart pounded furiously. The doctor’s hands slid down her body, over her breasts, along her sides, down her thigh. He gently lifted her ankle into the hard metal stirrup. The top swung down and latched. She let out a small squeak.

He crossed over to the other side of the table. His fingers stroked her inner thigh. His hands glided down her leg, sensuously, stirring up a strange mixture of feelings deep in her belly. He lifted her other ankle into the metal bracket. The latch clicked.

Dr. Moreland pulled on a pair of latex gloves. “According to the report provided by her husband, the subject received very heavy unwanted sexual use by a group of men last night. I will now begin a detailed physical examination of the subject.” He donned a pair of magnifying eyeglasses. From a large round bin on the counter, he took a tongue depressor. “Open your mouth, please.”

Eileen obeyed him reluctantly, heart pounding furiously.
Anthony told him about what happened?
she thought.
Why? Why would he do that?

“The back of the subject’s throat appears mildly raw,” the doctor said. “There is some evidence of friction.” He withdrew the depressor. “While you were engaged in unwanted forcible sexual intercourse last night, did any of the men thrust their penises down your throat?”

Her heart beat faster. She looked away, unable to answer.

“I am your doctor. It is important that you answer all of my questions truthfully and completely.” He took her chin in his hands and turned her to meet his gaze. “Did the men who used you last night force their penises down your throat?”