Helene Blackmailed (5 page)

The sight of her in the chair seemed to inflame him, and he came to her and took her hair in his hand and pulled her head back. He stared into her eyes and saw her fear and excitement, then his lips came down on hers and he kissed her, kissed her long and hard as his free hand plundered her body, playing with her breasts and her belly, dipping down between her legs, squeezing the soft skin on the inside of her thighs, as if he just couldn’t get enough of her.

“No,” he said. “You don’t want that romantic stuff. You think you do, but this is what you really want. You want to be taken, don’t you, Helene? You want someone who’ll take you and do what they want with you. That’s what you want, and that’s why you came back to me, isn’t it?”

She was too confused to speak, too confused and too incredibly aroused. The ropes on her arms and legs were simply the most erotic thing she had ever felt in her life—the way they held her tight and spread open for his pleasure. It was degrading and embarrassing, but at the same time it was terribly arousing, almost more than she could stand.

Daniel pulled her hips forward in the chair, as far forward as the ropes would allow, then he squatted down in front of her. He extended his middle finger and ran it over her lower lip.

“Suck it,” he said softly. “Suck it and get it good and wet. I want to show you what you are.”

Helene whimpered. She opened her mouth and sucked his finger inside, grateful for the contact. She sucked him deep, swirling her tongue around his finger, thinking that if she could make it good for him he’d give her something more substantial to suck on, something she wanted very badly.

But it didn’t work. He pulled his finger from her mouth and trailed it slowly down her body and over her stomach, over her navel, down to her hairless sex.

“Watch me, Helene,” he said. “Watch what I’m going to do to you.”

She couldn’t have moved her eyes had she wanted to. She saw his finger part the baby-soft petals of her sex, saw the coral-pinkness of her most intimate flesh, saw his finger poised with just the tip inside her, and then he pushed it up into her.

“Oh God!” Helene moaned and closed her eyes.

It was not the feeling of his finger inside her so much as it was the way he took her. It was the most simple, inelegant, sexual gesture, adolescent in its artlessness, and yet so lewd and primal. Man penetrates woman. Man takes possession of woman, not with his cock but with his hand, his finger. It was the exact opposite of everything Jason had done with her, and it was a thousand times more arousing.

“Look,” he said. “Open your eyes and look. I want you to see this.”

She looked down and saw her stomach contracting sharply with little spasms of pleasure as he rolled her clit around with his thumb. It was so mechanical, as if she weren’t even a human being, as if she were some sort of machine or instrument. She saw his finger emerge, shiny and coated with her own lubricious secretions, and she saw his eyes, gleaming with lust as they studied her degradation. Her shame excited him. It excited her as well.

“I’ve got all night,” he said. “And you’re not going anywhere. I’m going to sit here and play with you until you come on my hand, Helene. We’re both going to sit here until you come.”

“No,” she said. “Fuck me. Make me do what you want. I can’t stand it like this.” It was too degrading, being manipulated like her body was some sexual toy.

“Sorry.” He leaned forward and planted a kiss on her open pussy. “I want you to come right here. Tied in this chair like a little tramp. I want to watch you. I want you to see.”

He put his finger back inside her, then two fingers, and he began to fuck her with them as his thumb manipulated her clit. His gaze went first to his fingers moving in and out of her open pussy and then up to study the expression on her face.

Helene threw her head back. She pulled at her bonds but they were too tight. She tried to close her thighs but the ropes held them open. There was nothing she could do but sit there and let him finger-fuck her. She felt his gaze on her, boring into her, seeing into her and seeing her helpless pleasure, and he was right. She was a whore. She was a slut who was going to come from this man’s fingers inside her. She was going to provide him with entertainment.

She fought it. She fought her own escalating arousal, the feeling of shame that inundated her and threatened to drown her in its red heat. His fingers continued to pump in and out of her, working inside her pussy, coldly, mechanically with the steady inevitability of a machine. It was more than she could bear, and the more she tried to fight off the rising tide of excitement, the more surely it came thundering down on top of her. She was going to come.

In all her life, only once had Helene climaxed against her will. Only once had she been made to give in to her body’s own need for relief, and that had been with this same man when he took her before in this same motel in the same way—intent on his pleasure and with no regard for her own. And now it was about to happen again as she sat in this chair being rudely manipulated, a slave to his obscene touch and her body’s savage demand for the release of orgasm.

“Oh God!” she moaned. “Oh God!”

She bit down on the end of the last word as she felt it start, coming up from her feet and down through her scalp. She arched in the chair, a galvanic current of unbearable pleasure coursing through her body as every muscle went rigid and trembling.

He felt it too, saw how red she got as she held her breath, her body clenched too tight for breath, unable to do anything but come. He reached out and took her nipple in his hand and squeezed it, knowing just how to season her pleasure with pain and send her over the edge. Helene burst through herself like a butterfly from its cocoon, sailing through the air on wings of obscene, sexual surrender.

* * * * *

He untied her from the chair but kept her wrists lashed together. She leaned on him as he walked her into the bedroom, where the king-sized bed consumed much of the space. She was shaky from her orgasm, but not as shaky as she pretended to be as she leaned against him and felt the comfort of his arm around her.

“Why are you doing this to me?” she asked him as he led her to the bed. “Wasn’t once enough? You’re never going to stop, are you? It’s going to be one week after another, anytime you want. Anything you want to do to me.”

He took off his vest and stepped out of his shoes, and as he unbuttoned his shirt he turned to her.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked. “Do you? We can make this the last time right now, if that’s what you want. We can finish up right now and you can walk out and never see me again.”

Helene squirmed on the bed, trying to find a more comfortable way to lie on her bound hands. Although she had exaggerated her weakness, her orgasm had been powerful and had left her feeling weak and drained, yet still she wanted more—not just more sex, but something else. There was something she wanted from this man, something like respect, or maybe just understanding, something she couldn’t put her finger on.

He slid his pants and shorts down over his legs and took off his socks. He was painfully erect, and though she’d seen her share of hard cocks in her life, she’d never seen one so terribly eager, so aggressive. Seeing this evidence of his desire for her gave her some consolation even as her mouth went dry at the sight of him. So hard, so angry and engorged with blood.

“I forced you the first time,” he said, “because I could. Because I knew something about you. You don’t know me, and it doesn’t much matter now, but I did business with your company, sizeable business. I was even introduced to you, but you don’t remember. You were too busy and I looked different then. But because your company wanted my business, your bosses were rather free with their information about you. Darryl Foster, in fact, talks too much, especially when he’s had a few, and he has quite a crush on you, Helene. Strictly paternal, I’m sure. You turn quite a few heads in that office.”

“What’s your name?” she asked, sure that she would remember the name they did business with even if she couldn’t recall his face.

“Never mind that. That’s not important now. What is important is that I saw a woman who was wasting herself. I saw someone I wanted. Then, when I saw you on your roof, I saw a way to have you.”

“You stalked me? You followed me! That’s how you got those pictures!”

“I was there on legitimate business reasons, which is more than you can say for what you were doing up there on your rooftop.” He smiled. “And anyway, what does it matter? What matters is that the last time we were together, I saw you for what you are. I know you, Helene. I know all about you now.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” she said. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He picked up two pieces of rope from the nightstand. There was rope all over the place. He must have spent some time getting ready for her.

“No?” he asked. “Well, we’ll see.”

He took her ankle in his hand, wrapped three turns of rope around it and tied it in a cuff as he’d done to her wrists, then did the same to her other ankle. He rolled her over onto her side and untied her hands, then pulled off the tangled mess of her bra and blouse and threw them aside. Helene finally made a token show of resistance. She tried to pull her arm free but he held on to her wrist with a steely grip. He gave one good warning tug and she went limp. She was no match for his strength.

“Put your knees up,” he said. “Do it!”

Excitement and fear again. It was his stock in trade. She was on her back, and now she drew her knees up as he’d ordered and he pulled her wrist down to her ankle and fastened them together with a clip of some kind. She flexed her arm, testing the connection as he did the same to her other arm.

When he finished he stood up quickly, like a calf-roper who’s completed his tie. Helene was helpless now, her wrists clipped to her ankles, her knees up. She fell over onto her side to hide her shame.

“Do you now what a sexual submissive is, Helene? Do you know anything about BDSM, dominance and submission?”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t trust herself to speak. She was tugging at her bonds, the feeling of her captivity making her terribly excited again, making her pussy drool.

“Most people think that a submissive is some sort of doormat,” he said. “Someone with no self-respect or self-esteem, but nothing could be further from the truth. Rather, it’s a woman who’s so highly sexed that she needs more than what most people settle for—more passion, more desire, more intensity. That’s what the ropes are for, not to punish you or hurt you, but to hold you still while I can take you to that level of desire. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

He knelt on the bed at her feet and picked her knees up so that she rolled onto her back.

“When I told you loved being treated like this, you said ‘no’, didn’t you? But we both know that was a lie. Outside of here you’re Helene the hard-ass, executive-bitch. Inside, with me, you’re something else, aren’t you? Now show me. Let me see what you really are.”

He parted her knees and she didn’t have the strength to stop him. He pressed them down toward the mattress and lowered his head. She saw him open his mouth and his tongue come out and he made contact with her pussy. Helene cried out as if he’d struck her.

“No! God! Stop!”

But he didn’t stop. He licked her pussy, sliding his tongue between her labia and working his way up to her clit, and when he let go of her knees Helene made no move to close them. He ate her like he was famished for her, like he just couldn’t get enough, and she’d never felt anything like it. She’d had oral sex before. Jason especially always wanted to do it for her, but Jason was so tentative and controlled in what he did. This man ate her for the selfish joy of feeling her flesh in his mouth. He ate her like he kissed—with the same wild abandon, the same greediness and hungry, selfish pleasure. He ate her in a way that showed her that he loved her body, and it took her breath away.

She might have come, she couldn’t be sure. The entire feeling was so intense, and all she knew was that at one point when she had turned completely to liquid down there—to a sweet, buttery syrup—his mouth left her and he loomed over her, on his knees, like a barbarian conqueror.

“Fuck me,” she begged. “Oh God, fuck me!”

He came inside her all at once, filling her completely. He immediately began to fuck her hard, brutally slamming his hips against her, holding on to her shoulders to keep her in place to take the savage thrusting of his cock.

Beneath him, Helene twisted in her bonds. With her wrists tied to her ankles, all she could do was raise her knees to her chest and cradle him as his hips pummeled against her. His big prick spread her open, reaching deep up inside her, driving the breath from her lungs in a series of animal grunts and cries.

He went wild on top of her, his hands all over her body—on her ass, her breasts, pulling her hair to make her tilt her head back for his smothering kiss, pinching her nipple and reaching down to press urgently with his fingers against her clit. Helene had never known such wildness in a man, and with a deep thrill she realized that he was every bit as excited as she was, that his need for her was just as great as hers was for him. He might be the master of the ropes and of what he made her do, but inside, he was as helpless as she was. They were in this together, and it was his desire for her that drove him on—it was his desire that made him tie her up and fuck her like this.

She heard his masculine groans of pleasure as he thrust deep into her womanliness. “Take it, Helene, take my cock! Take it inside you and get ready for my cum. I’m going to come inside you, Helene, you’re going to make me come. Take it! Take it all!”

She threw her head back and her mouth opened in a smile of breathless ecstasy. She pulled hard at the ropes, never wanting them to let go, never wanting to be free again, just as she felt his big cock swell inside her and he thrust into her hard and began to come, pouring his hot ejaculate into her.

As if a switch had been thrown, Helene was launched into her own orgasm, an orgasm of both body and soul, rich and obliterating. She screamed, her scream echoing off the walls of the cheap motel room and she seemed to leave her body and join him in his rapturous fury, his cum mixing with hers and filling her with incredible heat.