BDSM Library - All Or Nothing

All Or Nothing

Provided By: BDSM Library
www.bdsmlibrary.com



Synopsis: A battered wife finds herself in the possession of a stranger after her husband loses a poker game.
All or Nothing

"A week."  Darryl rubs his mouth, the back of his hand swiping nervously at his
stubbly chin, his blood shot eyes darting from his cards to his opponent's calm
expression. 

"A month."  Evan smiles, his tone soft, but firm, green eyes amused.

"I-I don't know, I think a month is-"

"Then fold, my friend, I'll happily leave with my winnings."

Darryl glares, sweating heavily.  Friend?  Hardly-he's never played with the man
before, and Evan's been kicking his ass all night.  Darryl likes his poker laid
back, friendly, a few beers and low stakes.  When Mike had called, said he'd
invited some sucker from Portland with a fat wallet, Darryl had been reluctant.  
But the promise of an easy night taking advantage of some stupid tourist had
proved too tempting.  Mike had bowed out early, the bastard.  Darryl wonders if
Mike was somehow in on this route.

Darryl stares at his cards, drags a hand over his mouth again.  He's had too
much to drink, he knows it.  It's a solid hand, a spectacular hand, in fact. 
All or nothing, he tells himself.  All or nothing, the chance to win back all
he's lost tonight-the car.  How could he have bet the car?  He looks hungrily at
the keys before Evan.  He needs that car back.  It's a good hand.  It's a
winning hand, he's sure.  He clasps his beer bottle, takes a deep breath,
nodding assent. 

"Excellent!"  Evan laughs, his eyes bright.  "Most excellent!"


Jessica curls up, remote in her hand.  Not a lot on TV at 2 am when the cable
bill hasn't been paid.  She blinks hard, knows that falling asleep now would be
a bad idea-Darryl is very demanding when he's playing, especially when he's
losing.  She needs to be awake so that, if he shouts for another beer, she can
get it for him quickly.  She rubs her swollen lip, fingers exploring the cut
flesh.  She knows better than to sass him, especially when he's playing, but
he's lost the car-how is she going to get to work without a car? 


Darryl shakes his head, trembling hand running over his balding head.  How could
this be happening?  He stares at Evan's royal flush, takes a shuddering breath. 
"You can't take her."

Evan laughs dangerously, his eyes narrow, cold.  "Come now, Darryl-it's only a
month, you don't want to be known as a man who stiffs his mates at cards, do
you?"

"She won't like it."  Darryl stares stupidly.  He hates this man, his wimpy
British accent, his expensive clothes.  "She won't do it."

Evan leans forward, pushes the car keys to the center of the table.  "Well,
you've already treated me to a show of how you handle her when she talks
back-since when does what she likes matter?"  Even smiles slyly, sees the rise
in Darryl.  "She's just a woman, are you going to let your own wife dictate your
actions?"

Darryl eyes the keys desperately, hesitates, then grabs his beer, draining it in
one gulp.  "Jessica?  Jessica, get the fuck in here NOW!"


Jessica jumps, her blue eyes wide, gaze flying fearfully to the low doorway. 
She scrambles to her feet, stumbles tiredly into the kitchen, opening the fridge
door to grab another beer for Darryl. 

"Did I ask for a beer, you stupid cow?"  Darryl stands angrily, staggers to grab
Jessica by her blonde hair, yanking her to her knees as she cries, beer crashing
to the floor, bottle shattering.  Evan watches, fascinated-he loves the mind,
loves watching people rationalize, project responsibility onto others.  He knows
that Darryl isn't really angry with his wife.  But if he can convince himself he
is, make himself believe that she's stupid, worthless, then he can more easily
forget his own stupidity,  justify handing her over to a stranger.

"I-I'm sorry," Jessica whispers, staring sickly at the floor, "I'm sorry,
Darryl, please . . ." She hates this-it's bad enough when he throws her around,
hits her, kicks her as she walks by, but when he does it before an audience it
tears her up inside. 

"Shut the fuck up!"  Darryl smacks her hard, his whole body trembling with rage. 
"Stupid bitch, stupid!"  His fist begins to fly, slamming against the side of
her head again and again.

"Whoa there, friend," Evan moves quickly, gracefully, his hand grabbing Darryl's
wrist with surprising strength, "our deal is for a breathing woman, not a
corpse."  He smiles, inserts himself between them.  "Don't you worry, I'll teach
her a thing or two, you can bank on it." 

Darryl twists his wrist free, rubs it sorely as he pants.  "Whatever, get her
the fuck out of here, the stupid cow."  He returns to the table, grabs his empty
bottle.  "God damn it!" He launches the bottle at the wall, brown glass
cascading upon impact. 

Evan doesn't spare the tantrum a glance, his mind on Jessica, on her sweet,
small body.  Stunned blue eyes, lovely curly blond hair pulled back into a
severe pony tail, a trickle of blood running from her hairline.  A generous bust
under her tank top, bruised arms, the marks of fingers dug in clear.  Loose
sweats, delicate bare feet, toes painted a soft pink.  He smiles, pulls his belt
from his pants.  She leans into him as he pulls her arms behind her, binds her
wrists together.  She'll fight later, he knows, but now she is too dazed, really
barely conscious. 

"One month, you fucking pansy," Darryl mutters, tears rising as he watches Evan
lift his wife, carry her over the broken glass, "one month, and don't you
fucking kill her or nothing."

Evan smiles, nods deeply, almost bowing.  "One month."  He sets Jessica down by
the door, herds her out into the dark.

Jessica whimpers, sways on her feet before the rear of the Mercedes.  She leans
hard into Evan's supporting arm, her eyes moving slowly, confused.    "W-what
are . . . where are we going?"  Her voice is slurred, hoarse, she watches dully
as he opens the trunk.  She moans as he lifts her, lays her gently inside.  Her
eyes blink hard, clearing some as she pulls, realizing that her hands are bound. 
"N-no, please, what-" 

"Shhh, be good."  Evan grasps her ankles firmly, tapes them securely as she
begins to struggle, confused, whining.  He leans in, his face inches from hers. 
"Be a good lass, there's no sense in working yourself up."  He tears off a
length of tape, presses it firmly over her mouth.  Nodding, he smiles,
straightens to close the trunk, leaving her in the dark.

Jessica sobs, her head aching, spinning as the car pulls smoothly away.  She
strains against the tape, the belt, her cries muffled.  What is happening?  She
shakes her head, tries to clear it.  She made Darryl mad again, she remembers
that.  He hit her, over and over, she recalls broken glass, Darryl stopping. 
One month?  What did that mean?  She cries harder, fearing the worst.  She
should have left him, found a way out, gone to her sister's when the abuse first
began.  Now it's too late-what is this man going to do to her?  Did Darryl ask
him to kill her?  She writhes frantically, bound feet thumping against the cold
metal of the trunk.

Evan smiles at the banging from the trunk, turning smoothly off the highway.  A
small, tree lined private lane ahead, wrought iron gate looming.  He pushes a
button, nods as the gate swings open.  Pulling through, he reaches, advances the
CD to his favorite track.

"Oh, Fortuna
 Velut luna
statu variabilis,
semper crescis
aut decrescis . . ."

Jessica stares up from the trunk, squinting, her body sweat-soaked, trembling. 
She whines, exhausted from her struggles.  She squeals hoarsely, tries to twist
away as Evan reaches for her.  He laughs, tsks, reaches into his pocket.

 "Not yet, love," he murmurs, tipping the small vial into a white kerchief,
"it's far too early for you to fight."  Smiling, he leans in, his hand a blur,
grabbing her hair, pulling her back as the hankie is pressed over her face.  His
grip is firm, he pushes down, pinning her, waiting patiently as her wide eyes
meet his, terrified, then glazing, fluttering.  "That's a good lass," he holds a
moment longer, then pulls the crumpled cloth away as her body goes limp,
"welcome home."

Carrying her up the stairs, Evan looks into her open, expressionless face.  Look
past the bruises, the unflattering hairstyle, and she's a beauty, a rare example
of classic loveliness.  He lowers her into the large tub, stands to disrobe. 
His cock is large, turgid, the veins standing out starkly.  He works his
foreskin back and forth, sighs-he's been very lonely since the last one. He
looks at Jessica, so helpless, so still, then nods, begins working the tape from
her face, then her ankles.  He frees her arms last, then sets to work removing
her clothing.


"Here we go," he speaks softly to himself, to her, even though she cannot hear,
"this is my favorite."  Unstopping the bottle, he pours the rich, scented oil
into the water.  He holds her against his bare chest, a hand curved around under
her full, firm breasts.  Putting the bottle aside, he nuzzles against her neck,
moaning as he works her hair free from the plain pony tail.  "Oh, love," he
sighs as her curls spill free, thick, lovely against him, "so beautiful." 

Reaching forward, Evan works his hand between her limp legs, pushing them apart
to bare her neatly trimmed pussy.  His fingers explore, pulling her lips apart,
working the oiled water into her tight hole.  His stiff cock presses against her
lower back, the crack of her ass, his hips moving slowly against her.  He
continues working a finger into her, then two, loosening her, preparing her. 
Leaning back, he grasps her hips, lifts her even as she falls back against him. 
Groaning, he lowers her slowly, his rigid tool sliding easily into her snug
pussy, filling her completely. 

Jessica moans thickly, her head falling to the side as Evan's cock pushes into
her.  Her lips tremble as his smooth, even thrusts begin.  He pulls her back
against him snugly with one arm, his other hand exploring her, settling on her
breasts, massaging, kneading.  His hips work steadily, pumping, his cock sliding
in and out, gentle waves slapping the sides of the tub. 

Evan sighs, his hand moving down, thumb and forefinger grasping her clit,
squeezing, rubbing the sweet nub as his pace quickens.  Her head moves weakly,
she whimpers, her hands rising, then slipping back into the water.  Evan smiles,
his working of her clit fast, firm as her hips begin moving haltingly.  He
laughs low, thrusts harder, lifting her as she whines softly, her eyes
fluttering, mouth moving wordlessly.

Jessica moans, her hips moving mindlessly under his hand, his thrusting.  She
struggles to open her eyes, focus, but she can't.  She must be dreaming, she
knows-Darryl never spared a thought to her pleasure.  He had certainly never
wasted any time on her clit.  And where is she?  A warm tub, her lover behind
her, pleasuring her even as his cock moves fast, deep, filling her.  A dream. 
She moans again, her hips straining, body tensing as she climaxes, a short,
breathy cry escaping her. 

Evan nods, groaning low, his face pressed against her neck as he reaches down,
lifts one of her legs, pulling up, back, lifting her.  He begins to thrust
furiously, plunging as she gasps, lifts her head weakly.  He bites her neck, her
shoulder, soft, teasing nips as his cock swells inside her.  A rasping cry and
his tool explodes, filling her with his cum, hot and thick.  He thrusts up,
hard, pressing against her cervix as he floods her pussy.  He leans back into
the water, carrying her with him, his hips still moving slowly, cock softening
inside her.

Evan hums softly, brushes his chestnut hair from his face.  He pulls the lacing
tight, moving up to thread it through the next set of eyelets, pull tightly
again.  He watches as she sighs, a slight smile on her face.  Grinning, he turns
back to his work-she'll be aware soon, he needs to be quick or dose her again,
he knows.   He doesn't want to do that, he doesn't like the drugs.  Threading
quickly, carefully, he works up her body, encasing her in the strong, stiff
leather.

Jessica moans, her eyes slowly opening as she tries to move-and can't.  She
stares into the black, lashes brushing something-something over her face?  She
tries to take a deep breath, realizes that whatever is over her face is
restricting her air, sucking against her nose as she gasps.  She tries to shake
her head, but can only move it a few millimeters.  She attempts to lift an arm,
move the offending object, but her arms are trapped, crossed over her chest. 
Realization overwhelms her, she begins to squeal breathlessly, squirming, almost
completely immobile. 

Evan swirls his cognac, watches the Jessica's helpless struggles.  She resembles
a mummy, her squirming tightly restricted, her muffled squeals behind the softer
mask becoming increasing shrill, short.  He smiles-this is always the hardest
lesson.  The more they struggle, the more desperately they fight to breathe, the
harder it becomes.  The trick is to lie still, breathe slowly, accept.  It takes
some several lapses into unconsciousness to figure it out.  He doesn't think it
will take so much with her. 

Jessica lies still, trembling violently as she struggles to breathe slowly,
carefully.  She strains, testing yet again the relentless cocoon encasing her. 
Her thighs are slick, her pussy damp, open.  It wasn't a dream, she realizes
that now.  She whines, remembers the hands on her, the pulsing, lingering
orgasm, the thick cock sliding in and out as the warm water caressed her body. 
She blinks back tears-is it really rape if she enjoyed it so much?  She's
terrified, yet this man did in one hazy encounter what Darryl has never cared to
attempt-he's brought her to orgasm, fucked her without hurting her.  She cries
softly, confused.

"And you'll be very, very good?"  Evan lies on the bed, his hand stroking her
long, shining curls.  The mask is gone, but her body is still trapped, held
immobile.  He smiles as she nods, tears streaming down her cheeks.  "Now don't
lie-you belong to me, for one month I own you.  If you have any ideas about
escape, about going back to that hovel, that greasy bastard, get them out of
your mind now."  He leans close, his lips brushing her ear, "If you run, I will
catch you, if you struggle, I will subdue you, restrain you-submit, and you will
be satisfied completely."


Jessica sobs, hands straining from the thick leather belt at her waist, a bright
red ball gag in her mouth.  Her ankles are secured to the legs of the chair with
broad, padded restraints, her pussy open, vulnerable.  She stares in the dark,
her delicate hands clenching into fists.  He can't keep her here, she tells
herself, whining through her nose miserably.  He can't, she's not a thing, he
can't own her, not for a month, not for a minute.  She'll run again, she'll keep
trying until he succeeds-he can't watch her every second.


"Aw, FUCK!"  Darryl shouts, hopping stupidly toward a chair, sitting down hard. 
He pulls his foot up, stares at the blood, the shard of glass protruding from
his heel.  He tugs at it half-heartedly, then begins to cry.  If Jessica were
here, there would be no glass on the floor.  If Jessica were here, he wouldn't
have been in the fucking kitchen anyway.  "Stupid cow," he cries, head resting
in a trembling hand, "stupid fucking bitch, what did I do?"


"Does Darryl make you happy, then?"  Evan's voice is smooth, gentle.  "Do you
love him?"

Jessica stares at the wall, her tongue tracing her freed lips.  She gives no
response, her eyes fixed, hard.

"Do you love him?  He doesn't love you, you know."

"Fuck you!"  Her eyes dart, settle on his handsome face, "Fuck you, you don't
know shit about me and Darryl!"

"I know he put you in the pot like a thing, he lost you in a poker game."

"No . . ."  Jessica begins to cry, looking away.

"Yes," Evan grasps her face, turns it back, "yes, like a piece of cheap jewelry,
like the keys to a rust-bucket car, he lost you in a card game, then beat you
senseless in front of a perfect stranger-I think I know more about you and
Darryl than you think."  He rises, walks toward the door.  "Think about it-think
about what he's done to you." 

Jessica sobs as the door closes, leaving her once again in the dark.  How did
she get here, to this place in her life?  Twenty-two years old, and trapped in a
beat-to-shit trailer with a fat, mean drunk for a husband.  She whines, thinks
of all the times his fists have come crashing down upon her, all the times he's
told her how ugly she is, how worthless.  A spark of anger-the first she's felt
since she was seventeen, since her step-dad pushed Darryl on her, practically
forced her to marry him.  She's ugly?  She's worthless?  Who's the lazy fuck who
sits on his ass all day, blowing HER paychecks on HIS booze, HIS poker games? 
She cries harder, strains against her bonds.  She'd always wanted to be a
teacher, go to college, get a degree.  She doesn't even dare dream of such
things anymore.  She shakes her head, wails miserably.  How did this happen to
her?


Evan strokes her cheek, smiles into her puffy face.  "Good morning, my beautiful
girl."  He frowns as she cringes, flinching away from his reaching hand.  He
bends close, strokes her hair gently.  "I will never strike you.  If you require
correction, it will never come in the form of a beating, do you understand?"  He
grasps her chin, turns her firmly toward him.  "Do you understand?"  He smiles
again as she nods, her eyes wide, confused. 


Jessica kneels, her eyes down as Evan eats his breakfast.  The struggle had been
fierce, his persistence finally wearing her down as he pushed her back to her
knees again and again.  She takes a shuddering breath, looks up, watching as he
spoons his cereal into his mouth, chews as he reads his paper.  Her stomach
growls, she looks away, swallowing hard.

"Hungry?" Evan smiles knowingly at her, watches the internal struggle behind her
eyes.  The haircut he gave her has helped immensely, her soft, curly blond hair
now framing her face beautifully.  He eyes the bruises on her arms, thighs,
knows that they'll fade soon enough.  He gazes into her upturned eyes, feels
that tingle at the base of his cock.  She is so lovely.  "Just say please-say
please, and you may eat."

"P-please," Jessica's voice is hushed, strained.

"Please what?"  Evan's tone is light, almost playful.

"Please may I eat?"  Jessica looks away, hating him, hating this humiliating
game.

"Please may you eat . . . SIR."

Jessica glares, shakes her head angrily.  Evan smiles, turns back to his paper.

"It's up to you, Jessie-when you decide you're really hungry, you just ask
properly."


Jessica cries, her head turned away as the soapy sponge moves over her naked
body.  Her arms and legs are secured to handles in the sides of the tub, the
warm water covers her, scented sweet.  Her skin flinches as he washes her
gently, discarding the sponge for bare hands. 

Evan watches her, his hands traveling tenderly over her, lingering at her large
breasts, massaging, squeezing softly.  He leans, a hand sliding over her flat
belly, curving over her sweet, now shaved bare pussy.  He slips a finger between
her lips, smiling as she sobs, her thighs straining, trembling, trapped open. 
"You remember the last time you were in this tub?"  His voice is soothing, warm,
his thumb beginning to work her clit in small, firm circles.  "Remember how you
moaned, cried as you came off, my cock filling you?"  He laughs low as she cries
harder, her hips beginning to move under his hand.  "Oh, yes, so pretty when you
blush, so lovely," He slips a finger inside her clenching pussy, nodding as her
hips strain upwards.  He leans, nuzzles into her jaw, "Just ask, Jessie, just
beg and I'll let you cum for me again."  He continues working her clit, finger
plunging in and out of her snug, clenching pussy.  "Just beg for it, my lovely,
and I will grant you such pleasure."

"Nnn-no," Jessica moans, shaking her head miserably as his ministrations stop,
"No, please."

Evan leans closer, lips to her ear, "No, please?  Mmm, no, please let me cum,
sir?"

Jessica shudders, whining, "Please-please, please let me cum, sir, please!"

Evan smiles, victorious, his hand in motion again, drawing the orgasm from her
as she screams, her hips bucking, back arching high. 


"Look, look."  Evan turns her chair, sets her facing the mirror.  "See how
beautiful you are?"  Her eyes rise slowly, consider her reflection.  Soft, smoky
blue eyes, hair framing her face in lovely curls.  Her lips, full, shiny, the
split barely visible.  Cheeks pink, healthy looking.  She takes a shuddering
breath, begins to cry.  "You are beautiful, exquisite," His lips brush her
cheek, hand stroking her hair, "and you are totally mine, every part of you-I am
so lucky."


Jessica kneels, hands still restrained at the waist, her face upturned,
expectant as Evan places a berry on her tongue.  She waits, eyes on him, mouth
watering.  He smiles at her, nods in permission as her mouth closes.  Closing
her eyes, she chews the berry slowly, savoring its sweet, tart flavor.  She
looks up again, takes him in-chestnut hair, strong jaw, sensuous lips.  She
watches his hands, large, strangely graceful.  She looks down, cheeks burning at
the dampness spreading between her legs.


Evan pushes her down on her back, palms against her thighs, opening her legs. 
She looks up fearfully, her thighs trembling, straining, hands still secured at
her waist.   His fingers lightly stroke her legs, her pussy lips, tantalizing. 
He watches her face, smiling as the tension slowly leaves her legs, her hips
rise slightly to meet his touch.  Lowering his head, he traces her labia with
his tongue, lightly teasing, parting her pussy lips.  He licks, laps, nibbles
gently, around, over, but never quite on her clit.  Her hips move, trying to
bring his tongue there, but he pointedly avoids it, instead lowering his mouth
to push his tongue slowly inside her. 

Jessica moans, whines, her hips pressing up, up, frustration and arousal
building inside her.  She doesn't care anymore, doesn't care if she shouldn't
like it, doesn't care that she's being held against her will.  Her fists clench
at her waist, she cries in desperation, her legs rising, folding around his
shoulders, pulling him down. 

Evan presses her legs back down, rises to look at her flushed face.  "You want
me to take you there again, lovely?"  He smiles at her desperate nodding, her
whining.  "Ask me, sweet, beg me."

"Please, oh, please!" Jessica's eyes are glazed, desire and confusion wrestling
in her face, "Please!"

"Please what?"  His fingers play along the tops of her thighs, his breath warm
against her pussy.

"Please sir!" She cries, her voice strained, hoarse.

Climbing up, Evan whispers in her ear, "Please me, Jessie-take me in your mouth,
please me and I will give you heaven."

Jessie moans, muffled, her head tilted back as Evan's thick cock moves in and
out of her mouth from above while his lips, his tongue working her wet pussy,
sucking her clit, flicking it quickly.  Her jaws wide, she squeezes her eyes
shut, lips sliding up and down the shaft, tongue swirling, pressing.  She
whines, hips jerking, pressing upwards as her orgasm hits, her back arching,
feet lifting up off the cool sheets.  She sighs, panting through her nose, mouth
eager to return the pleasure as his tongue laps her slowly, pulling the
sweetness from her. 

Evan groans, his hips moving slowly, evenly even as his climax approaches.  Slow
and easy, soft-he knows that if he gives over to it, begins to fuck her face in
earnest she'll be hurt, frightened, undoing all he's done.  Moaning low, he
pulls back slightly, his cock swelling, then exploding, filling her mouth.  He
sighs as she swallows compliantly, her lips working him, mouth sucking, drawing
his seed from him. 


"Shhh, I know, I know."  Evan grasps her leg at the thigh, lifts it high as he
pushes against her well-oiled asshole.  He presses, slow, relentless, his other
hand curved around her belly, fingers rubbing her clit softly.  "It's okay to
cry, sweet, it's okay."  He watches her tear streaked face pressed against the
cool tile, her eyes wide, mouth bowed down in pain.  "Only for a minute, lovely,
only for a minute, trust me."  He buries his cock deep in her bowels, waits,
feels her clench hard around him.  "Relax, relax," he murmurs, fingering her
clit quicker, his lips kissing her shoulder, her neck, "breathe deep, relax."

Jessica sobs, her bound hands pulling at the towel rack, face resting against
the cold ceramic.  Her leg trembles, fingers reach as his cock fills her,
stretching her ass.  She whines, her hips squirming against his hand even as her
ass stings.  She bites her lip, shakes her head-she asked for this, she begged
him, yes, please sir.  She doesn't know why-Darryl's attempts at anal had left
her sobbing, bleeding, him cursing, punching her.  But Evan had brought her
right there, right to the brink, then asked her if she would submit to it.  And
she'd said yes.  She moans as he begins to move inside her, slow, gentle
strokes.  The stinging fades, replaced by a delicious pressure.  Whining, she
presses back against him, her hips matching his rhythm stroke for stroke.


"Open your blouse."  Evan's voice is low, firm.  He grasps her face as she turns
to look around at the other people in the dark sidewalk cafe.  It's late, almost
midnight on a busy Saturday night.  "Look at me, no one else matters-open your
blouse."  He nods as her shaking fingers fumble with the buttons, one, then
another, then another.  Her cheeks burn, she looks down as her fingers work the
last button, the blue silk blouse falling open slightly, almost exposing her
full, bare breasts.  "Hands in you lap."  Evan smiles as her delicate hands fall
limp in her lap, her eyes staring down. 

Jessica sits, trembling, her face on fire as Evan reaches over, pulls her blouse
open wider.  She closes her eyes, her nipples stiffening under the cool breeze. 
She opens her eyes wide as he taps her chin firmly, looks up into his face. 

"See them look, see how they want you?"  Evan's face is impassive, tone soft. 
"Lift your skirt."

Jessica looks around, sees the men at other tables, their eyes wide, fixed on
her breasts.  This is her first time dressed in three weeks, her first time out
of the house, unbound.  She whimpers, shakes her head, "Please, sir, I don't
want to."

Evan frowns, his eyes narrowing.  "You don't want to please me?"  He nods as her
legs spread, her hand tugging at her hem.  "Good girl, that's my good Jessie." 

Jessica sits, tears rising, face bright red as she stares down.  She's so
embarrassed, so humiliated . . . and incredibly aroused.  She can't believe
she's doing this-she could stand right now, she knows.  Stand and start
screaming that this man kidnapped her, took her from her home, held her against
her will.  But she can't bring herself to do it, she's not sure she wants to. 
She sighs, shivering slightly.

"Take this, rub your pussy."  Jessica looks up-Evan is holding an ice cube,
nodding for her to take it.  She sobs quietly, takes it, begins rubbing it up
and down along her slit, then inside, her hips moving every time it slides
across her clit even as she cries.

"Good girl, now stop crying."  Even nods toward the door, "See the man over
there with the teenager, next to the door?"

Jessica looks up, eyes sliding across them, noting their stares, their dumb
expressions.  She nods, sniffling, "Yes, sir."

"They want you, you know that?"

"Yes, sir."

"I want you to fuck them."  Evan's voice is lower now, husky.  "I want you to
bend for them, suck them, please them."

"Please," Jessica's voice is soft, pleading, "please."

"Do it, Jessie, it's what I want."  Taking her hand, Evan pulls her to her feet,
leads her toward the door, her blouse still hanging open, breasts swaying.   She
walks slowly, her head down.

Reaching the table, the man and his son goggle as Jessica leans down, her
breasts free, her lips brushing the father's ear.  "Do you want me?"  She almost
smiles despite herself at the man's eager, hopeful nod.  "And the boy?"  She
nods toward his son, maybe 15 years old.  The man nods again in disbelief. 
Jessica stands, walks slowly out the door, Evan behind her, gesturing for them
to follow.

Evan leads Jessica into the park, ignoring the two trailing behind.  Coming to
the restrooms, he stops her, gently pushes her against the flagstone divider,
bending her forward.  He nods at the other two, gestures toward her, reaching to
lift her skirt up over her shapely ass, her bare, lovely pussy lips showing. 
"The boy first."

The father steps forward, digging his wallet out of his pocket, "How-how much
for both of us?"

Evan smiles, "What do you want?   Just to fuck her pussy?  Mouth and pussy? 
Asshole?"

"E-everything, how much is everything?"

"Do you think she's a whore?"  Evan's voice is soft, but dangerous, "Does she
look like a whore to you?"

"N-no, no, she's beautiful, the most beautiful woman I've ever seen!"  The man's
voice is quavering, the raging ache in his crotch rendering him near speechless. 

"That's right, she's beautiful."  Evan pulls Jessica upright, gently propels her
into the ladies room.  "She is not a whore, don't ask how much, there is no
price."  Gesturing for them to follow, he locks the door behind them.

Jessica stares mutely into the mirror, watches the boy step up behind her, his
large, rigid cock grasped in his shaking hand. 

"Bend, Jessie, spread."  Evan stands beside her, his hand resting lightly on her
shoulder.  Jessica obeys, leaning forward so her breasts rest on the sink basin,
her face inches from the mirror.  "Look at him, look at his face."  Evan
murmurs, leaning close, "Look."

Jessica looks at the boy's reflection, sees the sick, eager wonderment on the
boy's face.  She is a treasure, a wonderful, amazing gift, a fantasy come true. 
The boy's hand rests on her ass as he begins prodding clumsily with his cock,
pushing, probing.  She whines, her eyes dropping to her own reflected face.  She
stares-lovely, deep blue eyes, dilated slightly with confusion, strange desire,
fear.  Her lips, full, red, lovely.  Blond, shiny curls falling sweetly around
her face.  She grunts as the boy thrusts into her damp pussy, pushing
relentlessly, a low, squeaking groan escaping his slack mouth. 

Evan nods, watches her face carefully.  He sees the battle, the confusion in her
eyes.  She is so beautiful, so very lovely.  He smiles as she begins to move,
rocked by the boy's uneven, sharp strokes.  She gasps softly as the thrusts
become harder, more driving, the boy's fingers sinking into her soft hips. 
"Shhh," Evan whispers, stroking her hair, "shhhh, enjoy it, enjoy him, his
enthusiasm, his adoration."

Jessica moans, her body shaking, pushing forward against the cold steel of the
sink.  She trembles, arousal and humiliation blending, her nipples stiff, erect
as they brush back and forth over the chilly metal.

"You," Evan nods at the boy's father, distracting him from the sight of his son
fucking this amazing beauty, "You can bring her off with your hand, no?  Give
the pretty thing a little pleasure for the gift she's giving?"  He smiles as the
man leaps forward, stands beside his son, hand curving around her pretty hip,
seeking her clit.

Jessica sighs, moans softly, her hips picking up the rhythm as the fingers on
her clit work deftly, squeezing, thumb and forefinger.  She looks up in the
mirror again, her mouth open slightly, tongue working her bottom lip as her
breathing becomes labored.  She whines, her hips tensing, legs trembling as her
orgasm crashes over her, nearly putting her off her feet.  The boy moans, then
shouts, slams hard into her, filling her with his hot cum.  His hips jerk
wildly, pumping mindlessly as another wave hits, floods her.  She stares into
the reflection of her darkened, smoky eyes, moaning as his softening cock slips
from her, a flood of cum running down her pale thighs.

Evan waves the boy away, smiling at his panting, his trembling.  He nods to the
boy's father, looks down at Jessica's face as the man moves behind her, cock
sliding smoothly into her soaked, open pussy.  The man grasps her hips, begins
thrusting hard, shaking her, slamming fast, deep.  "Easy, remember the great
favor she's doing you." Evan's voice is firm.  "Reach around, bring her off
again, make it good for her."

Jessica moans, whines as the man's strokes thrust her forward, her face pressing
against the mirror.  The hand returns, the pain turns to pleasure as his fingers
match his strokes, fast, firm.  She sighs, hips moving under him, meeting his
motions.  She exhales, shuddering as her body is wracked by another orgasm.


Evan runs the soft sponge over Jessica's belly, along her thighs, smiling at her
sweet moans.  Her hands and feet are secured, leaving her spread wide open.  "I
like you tied, open to me."  He grins at her slight smile, her lazy eyes.  "Such
a good girl."  He washes their cum from her body, frowning slightly at the
bruises at her hips.  "Stupid men, stupid."  He runs a tender hand over the
darkening flesh, then looks up at her.  She's still smiling softly, her hips
moving slightly, invitingly.  "You understand, don't you?"  He stares deeply
into her eyes.  "You have an amazing power, you have strength, something no man
can resist-those two, they would have done anything to have you."  He reaches,
strokes her face, "Money, gifts, power-anything.  You need to always remember
that, never let a man strike you, devalue you-YOU have what THEY need, not the
other way around."

Jessica moans, her head bobbing up and down, hands bound to the belt at her
waist, throat working, taking Evan's rigid cock all the way in.  She thrills to
his sighs, his groans, his strong hands light on the back of her head.  He
pushes gently, holds her head firmly as he cries out, his cock jerking,
swelling, filling her mouth, her throat with his thick cum.  He sighs, moans as
she swallows eagerly, her mouth working the last from him, then setting to work,
licking him clean.

"A teacher, eh?"  Evan strokes her hair gently, her head nuzzling into his
chest.  "Who would you teach?" 

"Little kids, I love kids," Jessica sighs, contented, her long, bare leg moving
up and down along his.  "like first or second graders, so young, so sweet."

"I think you'd make a fine teacher, Jessie-girl." 

"Thank you, sir," Jessica sighs, "but it won't ever happen." 

"Why is that?"

"It just won't-college is so expensive, and there's . . ." Jessica begins to
cry, "there's Darryl."


Darryl stands, stares at the calendar-three more days.  Stupid cow comes back in
three days.  He cracks a beer, slugs it down, rubs his half erect cock through
his boxers.  "Bitch," he mumbles, sitting hard at the kitchen table, "Fucking
whore is probably turning tricks for that fag."  He takes another drink.  "I'll
make her sorry."  He pulls his cock out, begins jerking off as he imagines her
trapped under man after man, her crying mouth filled with the cocks of
strangers.  "I'll make her so fucking sorry."

Evan stares down into Jessica's questioning eyes, reaching to raise her to her
feet, set her on his lap.  "This is your bank passbook, your check card, and
your ATM card-have you ever had an account of your own?"  He smiles as she
shakes her head.  "Don't worry, I'll take you to the ATM, show you how it works. 
Now this," he pulls a folder over, opens it, "this has your admissions papers,
your class schedule for each semester-everything is paid for, you just go and
pass the courses."

Jessica stares numbly at the array on the table.  Apartment keys, car keys,
stock portfolio, a credit card, bills sent to an attorney for payment.  She
looks up at him, crying.  "But-but . . ."

"Shhh," Evan strokes her cheek, smiling, "the rest is up to you-can you do it?"

Jessica nods, weakly, then stronger.  "Yes, sir."


Jessica wipes the tears from her face, steps out of the car before the
attorney's office.  She stands, breathing hard-never see him again?  She sags
against the door, shaking her head.   Evan had stayed the first night in her new
apartment, made love to her repeatedly, gently, bathed with her, binding her one
last time.  But when he'd said goodbye, he'd been firm, resolute-she would never
see him again.  She sinks to the ground, sobs, hugging herself.

Evan smiles as he steps into the warm bath, lowering himself.  He takes a deep
breath, can still smell her sweetness on him.  She'll do fine, he knows it. 
She's all set.  He sighs, settles into the water.   He feels good.  Very good. 


Darryl stares stupidly at the papers, then at the deputy on his stoop. 
"W-what?"

"It's a summons, sir-divorce?"

Darryl's ears roar, a dull, raging anger building.  "Divorce?  DIVORCE?"  He
pushes past the cop.  "That cow, that STUPID FUCKING HOLE?"  How DARE she?" 
Staggering onto the lawn, he stands, sways.  "She can't fucking do this, fucking
cunt!"


Jessica nods, her textbooks clenched to her chest, her face open, friendly.  The
quad is dark, deserted, last classes over for the night.  She smiles as Ian
stammers, his face turning an adorable shade of pink.  He's been watching her
for weeks, holding doors open, eyes lovesick, bright in class.  Leaning forward,
Jessica brushes her lips against the handsome young man's ear.  "Do you want
me?"  She sighs as he nods eagerly, his eyes caught between excitement and dread
expectation of the slap to come.  Jessica sets her books down, hops up on the
low bell tower wall.  Spreading her legs, she moans at the cool night air
caressing her bare, shaved pussy.  "Show me."  She grasps his shoulders, pushes
him to his knees before her.  Leaning back, she groans, smiling as his eager
tongue, shaking fingers begin their work.  "Show me."


Review This Story || Email Author: Kallie Thomas



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