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An Invitation Only

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She awoke to the slam of a door. Someone had walked into the room. She felt the bed shift beside her and she pulled against her restraints, licking her lips in anticipation. She felt his mouth hot on hers, his tongue forcing into her mouth and plundering the soft crevices. She fought against the restraints, trying to push against him, trying to push her tongue into his mouth, trying to hold his head close to her as she was consumed by his deepening kiss.

His mouth left suddenly, she could feel him shift, and then sensed his breath between her thighs. His tongue snaked out and licked the soft, shaved lips of her pussy.

She tried to spread her legs, wanting him to probe deeper with that wicked tongue, wanting him to do what was still illegal in some states to her moist pussy. He held her legs closed. She cried out his name… something incoherent. She heard him chuckle under his breath. She heard the sound of a soft motor somewhere… a vibrator. He tied her ankles together, and she felt a finger push into her quickly, and then pull out, covered with her juices. The motor became louder and then muffled as she felt it on her pussy lips, being pushed into the watery folds of her sex. He rubbed it against her throbbing clit; she felt it pumping faster and harder against her blood-engorged bud, bringing her closer to the edge of sexual oblivion.

Oh, she wanted to jump off that edge and into the abyss. She begged him with her moans and whimpers, tossing her head from side to side restlessly. He pushed the vibrating cock into her sex, breaking the barrier of her innocence in a gush of her juices and blood. She squealed in pain and delight as she fell teetered on the brink of the void, her muscles tensing and contracting at the tingle and tickle of a sensation that threatened to rack her body.

She was so close. She felt his mouth again, sucking at her clit, taking her closer to the chasm again as he sucked the shuddering bud into his mouth and plundered it with his rough velvet tongue. He left her sex and lifted her bottom off of the bed, positioning her on his thighs as he kneeled. Her ankles were placed on his shoulder and the vibrator continued its torturous delight in her sopping cunt.

She felt his fingers probing her wet sex and then move down to her ass, smearing the flood of her sweet sap against the tight entry of her backside hole. She felt a finger pushing against it, meeting some resistance. He didn’t stand for it and pushed his finger into her roughly. She gasped as she felt another unattainable orgasm building inside of her and the new sensations of having something in her unsullied ass. He pumped his finger in and out of her asshole in time to her gasps. He was getting her ready for him, she knew it. He stopped finger-fucking her back door and she felt the head of his cock pushing against it. She could feel the large purple crest of his penis pushing relentlessly, fighting to get into her…

She awoke drenched in sweat as her alarm blared in her ear. She looked at the clock. 7:32 AM… shit, she was late again. These dreams always kept her in La-La Land on the worst days. She snuggled into the covers and relished the dream that pleasured her every month, sometimes more. But she never came! She never got to cum in any of those dreams, only close enough to drive her mad. Frustrated, Kayla threw back the covers and groggily sat up. She finally got to her feet, fighting back the head rush that was inevitable every time she was hurried to get to school.

It was the spring of 1996. She was a junior in high school, a dangerous beauty with a quick wit and a clever tongue. Boys and men who were not afraid to venture outside of the stereotypical and mindless beauties of cheerleaders and school athletic girls followed her, whispering to each other about the rare beauty she possessed. Those that were afraid to enter the underground world of deeper, uncommon beauty took second glances in her direction and used the image of her body for the hard orgasms they sought alone at night in their beds. Her body was delicious, full of ripe curves and toned muscles.

She wasn’t the typical beauty of most high school fantasies; her breasts were ripe, but not overly full and stuffed with pads and push-up contraptions. Her waist was slender, her stomach flat and hard. Her hips were graceful, begging to be grasped in strong hands. She had long slender legs that were muscled from years of swimming. She had the face of a wanton, her eyes were large and liquid, and her mouth full, red, and ripe, begging to be tasted and nibbled likes succulent fruit. Her skin was pale, her face sculpted. Her hair was between red and brown, cut below her ears, and wild with curls that were hastily tucked behind her ears and swept away from her forehead. She was almost oblivious to her beauty, taking more pride in her intelligence, and her flirtatious nature that made men painfully hard, and witless boys spew their seed at night with her illicit vision in their heads and her name upon their lips. Oh Kayla!

She ignored most of the boys. She was oblivious to their whispering wants and cruel tongues when she dismissed them in her mind. One boy was the only person she let invade her mind. She knew it wasn’t really that extraordinary, just a fantasy. He sat with her in math, the last period of the day. He was the captain of the football team, a heavenly superficial dream of tanned muscles, blue eyes, a killer smile and sensuous lips.

Jeff… his charm was unavoidable. He captured hearts at a glance, a smile, a laugh. He was gorgeous, brilliant, gentle and desired. He was everything she tried to avoid. He was the opposite of everything she wanted to represent. She wanted someone reckless, passionate, consuming. Someone who would compliment her, someone she could fulfill. As the semester dragged on, the unlikely pair became closer friends, more than hallway acquaintances. She found something deeper within him, something she unintentionally hunted in a man. They sought each other out at parties, creating a fragile world in which only they were allowed. Everyone else was an invited guest. They continued like this for months. And still, the dreams came… .

The end of the year came; Jeff graduated, and left the same week without a word. Kayla tried not to think about it, she consumed herself in work and waited for her last year of high school to shelter her from thinking. Eventually she forgot him. Easily she slipped beyond his memory and she continued with her life without him. The year ended abruptly, and she was gone. She sought out a life that required more. She wanted the adventure, the change of scenery that was reckless and hazardous. She moved to New York within a month of graduating, taking a scholarship at a liberal arts college. She met incredible people that thought like her, and men. Men who worshipped her.

They congregated outside of her classes, waiting for her to emerge and walk into their lives. She was flattered, amused, and uninterested. She flirted with them, making them crazy with wanting, pushing them to the edge, and leaving them there balancing on a wire that she could cut at any moment. She knew what she asking for, even though she tried to ignore it. She told herself that none of them would dare to touch her, to hurt her in retribution for her careless flirtations that verged on the threshold of torture.

She made a habit of visiting local clubs, seeking companionship worthy of her attentions. She danced provocatively, wantonly, like a harlot seeking her next customer. She wanted that consuming, reckless, dangerous shamelessness. Someone who could devour her core, could control her, could take her completely and make her his own. And at the same time, she was unwilling to let her guard down to let any man try his hand at her unspoken dare. When they came too close to their goal, she simply sauntered off, out of their lives to start anew with another man.

Kayla was in her apartment, dressing for the evening out with friends, knowing that they would end up at the club… The Lure. Such a tacky name, she thought. She let her hair down, allowing it fall, a wild array of curls that framed and sometimes partly concealed her face. She painted her lips red, glossy and crimson, like wet, glistening cherries. She put on her eye makeup, making her eyes look smoky and dangerously penetrating. She slipped a tight black dress over her toned body and curves. It was a sleeveless tight-knit dress that was cut above her knees, and slit on both sides to reveal her hips and her shapely thighs. She wore no panties, just a pair of black thigh-highs that anyone could see the lacey tops of when she swayed her hips. She slipped on a pair of black heels and took a last glance at herself in the mirror before walking out the door and down the stairs to the street.

Several friends were piled into a car, all awaiting her arrival. She scooted into the back seat and the car took off, heading towards the dimming lights of downtown. They approached the club, watching the line of people trying to make their way past the selective bouncers into an “invitation only” fête. Kayla wasn’t worried, she knew the bouncers, and knew them well enough to let her into such exclusive affairs.

She also knew the owner, and one way or another she would find a way in to play out the night as she always did… in a subconscious search of that soul-consuming love. After the driver had parked, they made their way to the front of the line, looking over several regulars that seemed to be quite upset at their denial of entry. Kayla thought it odd that some of these people weren’t allowed in. They knew the bouncers, the staff, and the managers. They knew more people on this scene than she did! As she approached the front of the line, she saw why so many people were denied.

A new bouncer was given the duty of singling out people who could enter. Those who were on his list were allowed in. Others were not, no matter how important they seemed to think they were to the club’s economy. He looked somewhat familiar to Kayla, but she dismissed it. Perhaps he was one of the men who followed her like witless fops on campus. She would have noticed him. He had dark coffee-colored hair, short and slightly spiked, piercing ice-blue eyes, and roped muscles that bunched reflexively beneath his tight black shirt and faded blue jeans. He stood at least four inches over six feet tall, making him appear even more intimidating as he waved away riled customers.

He looked dangerous and bona fide. He was pure male. He was gorgeous. Kayla stepped behind a small crowd of people cruelly berating the bouncer for merely doing his job. He waved the people away, saying he was sorry in a sincere voice. As they cleared for the next torrent of angry clubbers, Kayla stepped up, putting on her most alluring smile. She stood with one leg extended outward, her hip, thigh, and lacey-topped stocking revealed through the slit on the side of her dress. She put a hand on her hip and licked her lips. He seemed not to notice her at all. He looked at her eyes the whole time, never looking below her neck, treating her like he was ignorant to her seductive attempts at winning him over.

“Name?” he asked.

“Montgomery.” She stated plainly. She waited while he glanced through his list of names, scanning with his finger. She had been unnerved by his flat response to her, and she scowled as he scanned the list again.

“You’re not on here, sorry.” He told her with no remorse. She tried her pout again, but he gestured her away, and waited for the next wave. Her friends had become annoyed and were mulling over where to go from here. They decided on another discotheque a few blocks away. They beckoned for her to come, but she simply shook her head and waved good-bye. She was going to win this petty battle. She’d never had a man refuse anything to her before, and she’d be damned if it was going to start now.

Kayla leaned against a light pole, contemplating her attack, thinking of how she could slip past him. His face was so familiar! If only she could remember a name, maybe she could persuade him that she did indeed remember him. He would be flattered, hopefully, and let her into the club. She decided to try to coax him into light conversation, to see if she could pick up any clues as to who he was. She sauntered over to his side as the people around him fell back, irritated.

“You must hate this job.” She stated.

“Actually, no.” He replied sharply, giving her little room for more talk.

“Are you always so rude?” She asked, insulted and irritated for his lack of interest in her. He merely glanced at her and then turned back to the retreating crowd. A group of people broke through the crowd and smiled at the bouncer next to Kayla.

“Kendrick.” A man in the front of the herd stated. The bouncer flipped through the list again and found the name and number of members in the party.

“Twelve?” he asked.

“Yep.” Replied the front man of the herd.

The bouncer waved them by, and Kayla took the opportunity to sneak into their group. He’d never notice, he wouldn’t take the time to see that she was gone, or count the number of heads in the group. She slipped between an older woman and a young man of about eighteen. He smiled at her and slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her close. Kayla let out a small gasp. They neared the entryway, and she was in. She looked back at the door, smiling just as the bouncer gave the crowd a second look and saw her heading in. His eyes narrowed as she laughed at him, knowing that she had won.

She pried herself from the young man, and walked down into the crowd of moving people, bouncing to the bass of a loud Chemical Brother’s song. She made her way to the center of the crowd and began to sway and move to the rhythm, her arms in the air, her head back, feeling the music moving her. She opened her eyes and looked at the door again, wondering what the bouncer would do. She saw him just inside the door, scanning the room and talking quickly to another man dressed in a black shirt, the “uniform” of the bouncers.

She recognized the other bouncer… Marcus. She met him her first night here and had been here almost every night that she was. He would be able to pick her out of the crowd effortlessly. She watched and danced as he scanned the dance floor, knowing that she liked to be in the center, and pointed towards her. She smiled a fiendish grin at them, and Marcus whispered something to the other man as he walked towards the door to control the crowd. The new bouncer came towards her, never letting his eyes leave hers.

Quickly, Kayla moved behind a man that was dancing to her left, she pushed herself against him, grinding her bottom into his hip. He turned towards her and started to pull her into his embrace. She moved against him, watching as the bouncer drew closer. She reached out for another man, pulling him to her side, making herself into a curvy sandwich between the two men. She swayed and moved, grinding her body against the men, leaning her head back and opening her mouth as her hands felt their way down the sides of her body in a seductive, fluid movement. The men moved closer, drawing more men to her until she was in a growing crowd of half-aroused men.

They touched her, feeling her, tugging at her, groping her. She felt one hand at her breast, fondling her nipple until it beaded and pushed against the material. She felt another pair of hands wrap around from behind, pulling her close to a hard stomach and rigid arousal against her back and bottom. A hand slipped under her dress, sliding down her leg, pushing her stocking down as another hand came up and found that she wore no panties. She looked around, hoping to make eye contact with the bouncer, to prove to him that she was in control of what she did, of what she was capable of doing.

She spotted him to her right, trying to reach through the mass of men. She saw a flicker of anger and arousal in his eyes, betraying his cool exterior. At the thought of what she was doing, she was becoming a bit weary of all the hands that seemed to keep coming, moving, groping all over her as she realized that the bouncer couldn’t get through to her. She looked into the faces of the men that were fondling her. Rampant desire raged in every face she saw. She tried to pry free from the closing swarm of males, looking for a way to break away. No one would let her through, it was too tight. She looked into the face of a man who was at her left and whispered into his ear.

“Please… let’s go to your place.” He grinned and grabbed her roughly, fighting his way through the mob despite several attempts to pull her back into the pit. She emerged from the crowd and was pulled away into the darkness of the back of the club. She looked behind her to see the bouncer still struggling to get through the throng, to come after her. She smiled at him and blew a kiss, winking and laughing and waved good-bye as he glared at her. She walked out the back door of the club and turned to the man who led her out.

“Thank you. I should get back to my apartment now, I hope you don’t mind. I’m just feeling too tired right now for much more.” She informed him. He looked at her with evil in his eyes.

“No way you little whore, you told me to take you to my place, and we’re going.” He grabbed her wrist and dragged her into the street. She cried out and fought against his grip. He smacked her across the face. She felt pain bursting in her face, focusing on her right cheekbone. She tried to kick him and succeeded in spearing him with the heel of her shoe. He let out a yelp and grabbed his shin, falling to the ground.

She moved away and turned to run, but he was too fast. He caught her ankle and she tripped, falling to the pavement, scraping her knees and elbows as she tried to break her fall. She hit her head on the curb of the sidewalk and her head reeled. He cursed at her and got up, pulling at her hair. She was too weak, too injured to fight. She was in the verge of passing out. She cried out one last time, trying to draw attention to herself. She heard a man’s voice yelling from behind her. The man who was yanking her to her feet by her hair looked back towards the club. A tall man wearing the bouncer’s attire was running towards him, anger raging in his face. He figured the bouncer wanted a piece of her too. He saw the way the man was stalking her as she had danced.

“Hey man, you want some of this little tart? Well, I get to go first.” The injured man told the bouncer. He opened his mouth to speak again, but his words were met with a fist. Pain ripped through him. “Okay, you go first.” He amended. Another blow hit his temple, and he was out. Blackness overtook him. At the same moment, Kayla slipped from consciousness and into a frightful dream.

Kayla awoke to blackness. She couldn’t see anything, no colors, no light, no shapes. She cried out in a whimper and tried to sit up. She found that she was bound to what must be a bed beneath her. She thought about how she must have got here, and the pain returned. Her head pounded, her face throbbed, and her knees and elbows burned. She groaned and panicked. My god had that disgusting man taken me home? Where was the bouncer? Had he left me on the street with that vile man? She lay there whimpering, sobbing, and knowing that she was defenseless, that she was in no position to fight against her keeper. She cried out again, a pitiful attempt at a scream, partly a groan of defeat. She pulled against the restraints and arched her back, tears running down her face and burning the scrapes on her cheek.

“Shhh… .” She heard it in the darkness, coming from behind her. She froze, trying to compel herself to be still. “It’s okay, you’re fine.” A male voice told her. The hell she was! She was tied to a bed in pitch-blackness, no idea where she was and with whom! She saw the flare of a match in the shadows, reflecting throughout the room. The man lit a candle behind her somewhere. He came toward her, but the light wasn’t sufficient enough for her to see his face, only his outline. He was holding a piece of material in his hands, raising it to her face. She shook her head furiously, whimpering with a look of complete terror on her face. He was going to blindfold her! He climbed onto the bed and straddled her chest, bringing down the material over her eyes. He lifted her head and tied it tightly behind her aching skull.

She whimpered again, and then felt his lips against hers, a soft, tender kiss. She turned her head to avoid his touch. He smoothed her hair back and got off her. She could hear him walking away, a door closing, and his footsteps receding. She lay there, hurt and exhausted for what seemed like an hour. She heard water running, the close of another door, and then the footsteps were approaching again. She heard the latch of a door unlocking, and the steps moved closer, stopping at what seemed only inches from her. Being blindfolded made every sense stronger; she could hear his breathing, feel the slightest breeze, smell the faintest aroma. He leaned close to her, she could feel his breath on her ear.

“I won’t hurt you if you don’t try to fight me, I promise.” He told her.

“Then let me go!” She cried.

“No.” It was a flat declaration. She felt the bed shift and knew that he was sitting beside her. She felt his fingertips skimming her bare arm, up to her wrist where a knot of nylon rope held her to the bed frame. She felt him working at the knot, tugging at it until it became loose, and he guided her hand through it until her left arm was free. She pulled it close to her body, as if to protect herself from roaming hands. But she only felt the breath of his mouth come closer to her face, and felt him reaching for the other hand, untying the ropes that held her down. She felt his rough, wet tongue lick her lips, pushing them apart. She pulled free, but her ankles were still bound. She sat up and swung towards the face that was only inches from where she was. She thought she had hit her target, but realized that it was his hand protecting his face. He grasped her wrists and flung her down on the bed again.

“I told you I didn’t want to hurt you.” He breathed, barely above a whisper. His voice was taut with rage. He leaned closer and kissed her, his tongue forcing her lips to part. When she refused to unclench her teeth, he pulled at the back of her hair until she gasped at the pain. His tongue plunged inside her mouth, probing the dark crevices and planes. She whimpered in protest, trying to turn her head, but he had her hair bunched tightly in his fist. He bit down on her bottom lip as she tried to struggle.

She cried out and began to struggle furiously. “Dammit!” He hissed. “Stop struggling, and I won’t hurt you!” She stopped moving, curious as to whether he would lighten his grip on her. He kissed her again, softly, gently.

She experimented by moving her head a bit to the side, away from his mouth. She felt him pulling at her hair lightly, and his teeth grazing her lip again. He murmured a warning and she lay still again. She felt his tongue probing her mouth, coaxing her tongue to play with his. She complied, seeing what would happen if she cooperated. He groaned against her mouth and pressed his lips harder against hers, plunging his tongue deep into her mouth as hers danced around it, pressing against it. Her skin began to warm, her heart beating harder, pounding beneath her eyelids, in her ears, in her wounds. She remembered her injuries, and felt them aching. She moaned in protest and pain. He pulled back, tenderly touching her face where there was a dark bruise forming on her cheek. She winced and cried out a muffled groan.

“I know it hurts.” He told her, lovingly. His words were a caress, soft and loving, as if he was a parent comforting a child.

She felt him moving down her body, his fingers skimming along her sides, down to her hips, lingering over her mound, probing gently through the fabric of the dress she still wore. His fingers continued lower, along her thighs, stopping to gently survey her scraped knees and moving lower to loosen the binds at her ankles. She pulled free of the ropes, pulling her knees up. She rolled over, ready to run, tugging at her blindfold. She felt a hand grasp her ankle, another grabbing her wrist and she was pulled towards him, onto her back. She tried to use her other hand to lift her blindfold, but the male hand left her ankle and clasped her free hand, pinning her to the bed. He nuzzled her neck, then licked the smooth column. She let out a sigh, and he bit into her soft flesh. She winced and roared out a protest.

“You filthy bastard! Let me GO!” She screamed.

She opened her mouth, letting out a blood-curdling scream. He throttled it with his mouth, pressing harshly against her lips, plunging his tongue into her open mouth. She stopped, letting him gentle the kiss, his lips warm against hers. He let her right hand free. She left it there, unmoving, afraid of the pain it would cause if she tried to push away. He tentatively moved his hand to her waist, massaging the flesh there, feeling the tight muscles of her stomach. She didn’t flinch, didn’t try to move away, so he moved his hand lower, to the slit in her dress, feeling her bare skin.

He eased his hand behind her, cupping her bottom in his palm as he pulled her closer to his chest. His hand kept roving, to the crack of her ass, following it down to her damp sex. He let his fingertips caress the outer lips, playing in the curls covering her pussy. She could feel her slit heating up, wanting him to probe further into her waiting womanhood. She half moaned in panic, half in anticipation, trying to move away from his hand. He lifted his hand and pulled it away from behind her bottom, and then she felt his hand grasping her thigh, holding it still. She tried to clamp her legs together, but his hand pushed against her inner thigh, pushing her legs apart as he pinned the other thigh beneath his.

She tried to struggle, but he only lifted his mouth from hers. She froze, afraid of what pain was to come from her punishment. “Kayla, please… I’m not going to hurt you… . if you’ll just let me do this. Just give in to it. God, I know you want it as much as I do, I know what you’ve been looking for.” He assured her. Her mind raced. How could he know anything about her? She didn’t know him at all! Was he reading her mind? She settled, letting her body relax. He felt the tension leave her body.

“Oh, Kay, I’ve wanted this for so long. God, I’ve missed you so much. I’ve spent so many sleepless nights thinking of you, wishing you were in my arms, wanting to hold you.” He whispered into her ear as he nuzzled it. Shivers ran down her neck, to her stomach and thighs. She knew his voice, she knew him somehow. Why couldn’t she remember? She felt his tongue delving into the crevices of her ear, tracing the curves and soft flesh of her earlobe, suckling the small, hooped earrings that pierced her supple flesh.

She spoke, unsure that if she did, she might be punished. “I don’t know you,… … I swear.”

“But you do know me. Have you forgotten me?” He asked. She could feel his body tense against hers. Oh God, was he mad? She felt his hand lift from her thigh. Panicked screamed through her mind, he was going to hit her! She opened her mouth to cry out, to beg him not to hurt her, but he wasn’t going to hit her. He reached up to her face, laying his hand against her undamaged cheek.

“I’ll get you some aspirin.” He said quickly. He left her abruptly, getting off of the bed and walking away. She heard cupboards opening and closing, water running again, and he walked back through the door, into the room. She felt him sit next to her, holding her head up as his thumb urged her lips to part. She felt two pills fall onto her tongue, and then a glass was held up to her lips. She sipped greedily at it and swallowed. The man set the glass next to the bed and pulled her into his arms.

“Don’t fight me, just let me hold you.” He said softly. She didn’t fight. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed, releasing all the pain and fear that she felt. She felt so safe wrapped in his embrace, even though she didn’t know him, wasn’t sure what he would do to her. She inhaled his scent, a woodsy smell, like the forest after it has rained for days. Her face lay against his chest, his clothed torso. He was warm, his muscles rippling under her touch. She tried to push her blindfold up and over her head, but he pulled her closer.

“Not yet… please.” He begged. She ignored him, pushing father. She felt his hand trap hers, putting it back behind his neck as he pulled the blindfold back into place. He lifted her into his arms and stood, carrying her across the room, towards light that was shining behind her blindfold and into a steamy room. He set her down on her bare feet, against cold, tiled floor. He reached his hands around, unzipping the back of her dress as she felt his chest pressing against her breasts. He slowly pulled the zipper down her back, letting his other hand caress the soft flesh that was revealed. She sighed, the feeling of his rough hands comfort her.

She felt his hands leave her back, and felt them again against her thighs. He kneeled, tugging her torn stocking off her legs, down past her calves to her ankles, and then he lifted each foot, pulling the stocking off as she put her hands on his shoulders for support. He was so tender, making sure not to touch her scraped knees. She felt him rise again, her hands dropping from his shoulders as they raised high above her own. His hands slid along her arms, up to her shoulders. He slipped two fingers under the straps of her dress and pushed them down her arms, letting the dress fall into a pile at her feet. She heard him take in a quick breath as he surveyed her nakedness.

“You’ve become so beautiful, Kay.” He told her. No one in the present could tell her that, no one knew her before a couple of years ago when she moved to the city. Kayla tried to think of who could be here in NYC, someone who came from where she had come, a dinky little town in Washington. Her mind became blank as she felt his hands under her thighs, lifting her again, and she felt herself being lowered into warm water. She heard bubbles popping around her as she sunk into the tub. A bubble bath.

The water felt wonderful against her cold skin, but it burned her scrapes and she winced against the slight pain. He heard her intake of breath and let his hands fall away as she settled into the bath. He reached into the water and lifted an ankle, raising it out of the water, causing her leg to be revealed beneath the bubbles. She felt his fingers against the abrasion at her knee, gently rubbing away the dirt and dried blood. Then she felt his lips softly pressing against her torn skin. He did this to each of her elbows and her other knee. Then she felt a wash cloth at her cheek, gently wiping against it. She flinched, the pain washing over her again. He whispered to her, “I know it hurts, but we’ve got to get you clean. You’re a mess. The aspirin will kick in soon.”

At his words, the pain did begin to subside, and she let herself sink into the tub farther, until her breasts were under the water, and her knees were poking out from underneath the bubbles. She laid her head against the back of the tub and sighed. She heard him rustling, the sound of a zipper, the rustle of fabric. She quickly pushed the blindfold up, knowing that he would be too busy undressing to notice her. The light caused her to squint until she was used to the light. She pulled the blindfold all the way off and threw it away from the tub. She glanced up at the man turned slightly away from her. The bouncer! But he hadn’t given her a second glance! Didn’t even seem phased by her try at coy seduction! She gasped, and he turned abruptly, their eyes locking.

“YOU!” She yelled. She started to rise from the bath, the water swooshing around her body and sliding down her curves as she stood. She hadn’t stood on her own since the incident at the club until now, and the blow to her head made her head pound, and her blood rush. She tipped forward, trying to grasp the rim of the tub for support. She felt his hands like manacles at her waist, holding her up and forcing her to sit back down. She fought against him, pushing his arms and hands away as she stumbled out of the bath and fell to the floor. She crawled on her knees toward the door, feeling each pound on the tile with her scraped knees, leaving a slight trail of watery blood on the white floor.

She started to rise, trying to get to her feet, and began to run. She could hear him behind her, running after her. She threw herself towards the door, entering the bedroom where she must have been earlier. She saw a faint light at the opposite end, another doorway. She ran for it as fast as she could. Just as she raced past the bed, she was caught in a strong grip that tripped her, making her fall against the side of the bed as she scrambled for support. She pulled at the blankets, anything to help her to her feet again. The grip on her ankle flipped her over, pulling her towards him as he came to her on his knees. She cried out a panicked scream. He fell on top of her, muffling the scream with his hand, his body hard against hers and he held her close. She began to struggle, flailing her legs and shaking her head, trying to dislodge his hand.

“Stop it!” He hissed. Rage echoed through his voice. She immediately complied, afraid of the anger she heard and her vulnerable position. He was on top of her, and they were both naked. She realized this sooner than he. He looked into her eyes, and understood what she was thinking. He smiled at her wide, frightened eyes through the red haze that had temporarily blinded him and thrust his hips provocatively against hers. Her eyes widened as she felt his awakening arousal nestled between her thighs. He got up, pulling her to her feet and throwing her on the bed. She sat up and backed away from the edge, towards the opposite side of the bed. He looked at her, a warning in his eyes. She stopped and watched him as he stroked his now hardening shaft, looking directly at her face as she watched his hand working at his dick.

The plum head swelled, and the length of it was veined and straining. It was so big, bigger than any penis she had ever seen before in pictures and movies. Maybe he was a porn star before he became a bouncer, she thought fleetingly. She half laughed at her irrational string of consciousness, and then whimpered as that thought led to another; that he wanted to be inside of her, but she was still a virgin! She never met anyone she wanted to give her innocence to, and she didn’t want him to steal it from her! He kneeled onto the bed, inching towards her.

“Please don’t!” she cried out in a burst of breathless, fearful anticipation. He ignored her and stopped stroking himself. He began stalking her like a predator seeking his prey. She shrank against the head of the bed, pulling herself into a ball. He grasped her ankle and roughly yanked her downward, pulling her towards him until her bottom was nestled against his knees. He pinned her arms down and leaned forward until his nose was almost touching hers, the back of her legs against his chest, her femininity and bottom nestled against his thighs. She could feel his shaft against her inner thigh, pressing intimately there. He kissed her, not roughly, but sweetly, as if he had suspected she was chaste.

His tongue plunged into her mouth, and she touched her own tongue to his, delving into his mouth, ready to become a reckless wanton if it would help her escape faster. He settled his weight on top of her, pushing her back into the bed, pinning her down, her legs wrapped around his torso. She felt his hands leave her arms and cup her breasts, kneading them and squeezing the soft flesh there. His fingers found her nipples and plucked at them lightly, turning them between his fingers, making them hard and sensitive. She moaned into his mouth, and he plunged his tongue in deeper. His tongue became hard as he explored her and tangled with her own tongue, forcing it back into her mouth.

He shackled her wrists again with the rope, tying her down once again. She pulled at the restraints, letting him know that she wasn’t comfortable. He ignored her silent pleas and kissed her neck, biting softly on the smooth, sensitive flesh. He moved lower until he was suckling her nipple while his hand played with the soft hair at her sex. She tried to struggle, but his chest was locked between her legs. He let his hand delve deeper into her sex, into the dampness that was collecting there. He slipped a finger into her wet pussy, probing the virgin hole, separating the lips and exploring the folds. She moaned again, sighing and closing her eyes as he licked her nipple and moved to work on the other one. His finger pushed in farther, inside of her, finding the delicate barrier of her hymen. He stopped unexpectedly and looked at her face.

“You’re a virgin?! Jesus Christ! You of all people?!” He hissed. He thought back to the evening, how she had danced so seductively in front of him will all those men groping her while he watched. She must be the only virgin who knew how move like that. She moved like a high-priced whore! He looked down at her through the red haze that had settled over his vision. She was sobbing, her body shaking convulsively.

“Well, time to teach you a lesson in teasing.” He hissed, half teasing. She cried out, a wrenching sob that echoed around the room. He felt a pain in his heart, seeing this helpless creature beneath him. And then he heard a loud CRACK before he felt the pain. She had slapped him and was raising her hand again in a fist. He felt another blow against his brow, this time a sickening thud. He reeled back against the bed. She kicked him with the heel of her foot in his shoulder. She had gotten lose.

“You sick fuck… ” She whispered to him. He wasn’t defeated, but he didn’t let her know that. He wanted to know how far she’d go, wanted to hear an explanation. “… you can never have me. I’m too good for you. You, who has to rape virgins to get laid. Serves you right, asshole.” He sat up, watching her as she moved around the bed, staring at him with loathing in her eyes. She looked around in the dim light and moved towards the door that led to the bathroom. She found her clothes in a pile on the tile in front of the tub. She glanced back, seeing if he had gotten off of the bed yet. He remained motionless, watching her, a gleam in his eyes. She plucked her dress from the floor, damp from water that had sloshed over the sides. She pulled it over her head and smoothed it past her hips.

She had no idea what had become of her shoes, so she proceeded to leave without them. She walked back into the bedroom, eyeing the man on the bed studying her. She walked towards the light that illuminated a doorway at the opposite end of the room. She heard the bed creak under his weight. She turned immediately, looking for him. The candles had been blown out and the room was dark. Her eyes strained to adjust as she backed away from the bed. Just as she saw movement, she felt an arm like a shackle wrap around her chest from behind, pulling her hard against his muscled chest.

She felt another hand groping for the hem of her dress, hitching it up over her hips, and finally ripping it down the middle as he pulled it taut over her breasts. She felt herself being pushed forward, being tipped over the back of a chair, leaving her bottom in the air. She felt his fingers pushing into her slippery sex preparing her for his invasion, making sure she was ready for him, and then leaving just as suddenly. Her put his hands on her waist and pulled her back to his hips.

The plum head of his dick slid between the folds of her cunt, sliding back and forth over her clit, smearing her flowing juices over her pussy lips. She tried to stand, to struggle against him, but was pushed back down forcefully. As to punish her for her attempt at escape he pressed against her hole as she felt the thick crown of his cock pushing insistently at her virgin sex. It barely slipped inside, threatening to tear her in two. He teased her this way, prolonging her torture as he rocked back and forth into her ever so slightly. She let out a muffled sob, and he pushed violently into her, breaking her hymen. She cried out, only half in pain. She felt warm blood running down the inside of her thighs.

He held himself inside of her, motionless for what seemed like hours. Suddenly she felt his cock withdrawing, then plunging deep again, pulsing at the gates of her womb. He thrust into her hard, over and over. She felt the pain give away to pleasure and she spread her legs further apart and pushed back against him. She heard him groan at the realization of her compliance as he leaned over, pressing his chest into her back, obviously happy with her sudden surrender to him. He reached around her and found her clit with his fingers, rubbing it in cadence to his thrusts. She moaned, lifting her head and turning her face into her captor’s neck. She licked the salty flesh there, whimpering and spurring him on with her muffled, incoherently sexual whispers.

“Please… ” she heard herself say in a rasping voice. He moaned again, unable to bear what her words did to him, turning her head up towards his face, locking her lips in a stormy, demanding kiss. His tongue matched the movement of the thrusts of his cock, his fingers rubbing up and down, drawing circles over the pulsating pearl of her clit while his other hand holding her hip as he thrust into her. Their breath mingled as they tried to catch it.

She heard his hoarse cries ringing in her ears and felt the swell of his cock deep in her pussy as he shot his sticky, sweet sap into her newly initiated sex. He rubbed her clit furiously, thrusting his throbbing organ relentlessly into her, trying to make her cum with him. She could feel it building inside of her… her orgasm and his seed. Suddenly she felt as though she was on the verge of something, a slight tickle in her sex, then a throbbing need to throw herself into the white hot summit that lay on the other side of a chasm that swallowed her completely. She looked up into his face as she came, watching him watch her. Her vision turned white, clouding on the edges until all she could see were his eyes, smiling down at her, full of love and passion.

“Jeff… ” she whimpered. The waves rocked through her, the realization and the orgasm. She cried out and closed her eyes, throwing her head back against his shoulder as she felt his lips on her neck and his fingers slowing their steady rhythm on her clit. She fell into the chasm, slowly falling into his arms as they wrapped around her and held her tightly. She had found her lover, she had fallen in love.

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