Holes (Wall Street Beasts 1.5)
“Don’t be ashamed,” he purred, pressing harder and sensing her wetness. “You were made by thousands of years of evolution to respond this way when captured by a man.”
That did not sound like real science, but she felt some horrible truth to it ringing through her flesh. Taken from everything she had ever known, blindfolded and punished for reasons she could not explain, she had no choice but to surrender to the only thing she knew — the way he made her feel.
The fingers worked at her sex through the tight fabric of her garments. She felt her stinging ass responding to him, her entire tense, stressed body relaxing for his touch.
She had the feeling she had been captured by someone who knew how to hold a captive. There was an ease to the way he held and handled her, a comfort with her dis-ease. In spite of the spanking, he wasn’t trying to hurt her, or scare her. He was taking command of her, breaching the boundaries of her body, giving her pleasure in return for compliance. All of it was happening without a word. He was showing her, not telling her who he was.
“Are you a virgin, Daisy?”
She bit her lower lip to stop herself from moaning the answer and merely nodded instead.
“Virginity is the strangest of things, don’t you think? The absence of experience, craved by the profane and the wicked who value it only so they may desecrate it.”
His thoughtful words were accompanied with further teasing strokes down the length of her slit.
Was he going to desecrate her too?
Was that the point of this? To take something, someone innocent and break them? Was she just a random victim, someone whose bones would become one with the dark loam at the base of this endless pit?
To be so aroused, and yet so close to pure terror left her in a state of animal alertness which involved an almost complete shutting down of her brain followed by a heightening of all her senses.
She could smell him so intensely. His masculinity enveloped her and mixed with the inimitable feminine scent of her own arousal. The air down here must have been pumped from the outside through filters. There was a crispness to it which made every other smell so much stronger.
“Tell me what you think of your virginity.”
“I… I don’t kn..oW!”
She squealed as her non-answer was immediately punished with a hard slap.
“I want you to think,” he purred, his lips suddenly very close to her ear. “I want you to think about what your purity means. What the sealing of your flesh truly is…”
She let out a little whimper as he returned to his previous task, teasing her pussy through the thin fabric of her underwear and leggings, making her body ache for the defilement she was terrified would happen.
“It means… it means I’m a good girl.”
“Does it? Are you a good girl?” The question was accompanied by a firm squeeze of her sex.
“I think so…”
“What makes you such a good girl?”
“I try… unghh… I try my hardest in school, and I follow laws…”
“You’re obedient,” he purred.
“Yes,” she whimpered.
“And you think obedience makes you a good girl?”
“Doesn’t it?”
There was a dark chuckle somewhere beyond the blindfold, and a hard slap found her cheeks once more, a flash of pain searing through her flesh and shocking her nervous system back into that high state of arousal once more.
“I don’t care how good you are. That is something the world cares about. I care about what lies at the filthy, depraved core of you. I care about the animal hiding beneath all these pretty layers the world has been dressing you in since your birth.” His voice was cold, and rough, and animal. “I care about what you are inside, after you're broken. After every bit of purity has been stripped away from you. I care about the lustful, wanton, fuckable little beast you pretend not to be.”
She felt a tremor running through her as it finally and abruptly sank in that she was not in the grips of any normal man. He was not going to content himself with the apelike ravaging of some rapist. He was going to break her down, piece by piece, taking her apart psychologically until she was begging for the very defilement she feared.
“Don’t move.”
There was a cool sensation between her thighs, a knife playing across the strained hem of her slit. And then there was a rush of cooler air as both garments gave way, putting her sex on display.
He could fuck her now. Her holes were at his mercy. She found herself holding her breath, waiting for what instinct told her was the inevitable penetration.
But it did not come. He held her there on the very verge, keeping her exposed, but no longer touching her. He made her concentrate every bit of her awareness on the bareness between her thighs.