henryv1598's blog post - Part 7

You said goodbye to your friend. According to the terms of the agreement, you would belong to him for the next forty eight hours. It was not yet dawn Saturday morning. You would be home, in your own bed, by this time Monday.

You told her to enjoy Todd.

“She will,” he grinned, and walked her to the car.

This is your last chance. The words appeared inside her head. You stood there.

He stood behind you, his hands on your shoulders. As the car drove off, he turned you and walked you into the house. He walked you to the dining room and sat her down. You waited, and a short time later he reappeared with a large plate of food.

You will need your energy. Eat.

Somehow you knew he was saying these things. But you never heard his voice.

You ate. He urged you to clean the plate, and you did. And he went back and got more for you. By the time you were done, you were uncomfortably full.

He lead you downstairs. In the basement was a long hall with a hardwood floor and paneled walls. There were several doors and he stopped in front of the first, opened it, and let you into a very nice bathroom. There was a large tub, already full of steaming water. Soaps, shampoos, everything you’d need. He ushered you in.

Another word in your head: Bathe. Bathe and prepare.

He left you alone and you did as told. You slowly undressed, placing your clothes on the counter, and slipped into the water. It was hot, but not scalding. It was both uncomfortable and wonderful all at once. You lay back and soaked for a moment, then began to properly wash yourself.

You finish and rise to get out of the tub, reaching for a towel. You dry off and turn to dress but realize your clothes are gone, replaced with a soft robe. This is disconcerting: you didn’t hear or see him enter.

You put on the robe and within a moment he opens the door and ushers you out and down to the next door. Inside is what looks much like an office space. A desk, shelves of books, a laptop computer. In the center of the room, however, are two chairs. One is a very comfortable looking easy chair that appears to recline. The other is a bit less luxurious, but obviously comfortable all the same. You move toward it and he stops you, pointing at the easy chair.

Words appear in your head again: This experience will seem as a dream to you. It is done to protect you from the psychological trauma this might cause. And, it will heighten the experience.

"Are you going to drug me?" you asked

No. I do not believe in drugs.

"Then how?"

Relax. Let me show you.

"I'm nervous."

That's ok. Now, close your eyes and count backwards from ten, slowly.

"Ten."

Relax. Hear my words. My voice does not matter. Only my words.

"Nine."

You are relaxing more. Slipping away deeper... deeper...

"Eight."

You hear nothing, not even my voice.

"Seven."

You see nothing, not even my face.

"Six."

Your body is melting away. Your mind is as light as a feather. You feel it drifting off.

"Five."

Your body and mind are separating. Your mind exists within your body, but is not of your body.

"Four."

In your relaxed state, nothing can harm you. Whatever you feel is not happening to you, but to your body, and your body is separate from your mind.

"Three."

Soon nothing else will exist. You will drift away and remain in a dream world. All of this will be a dream.

"Two."

You are almost there. Almost nowhere. Your mind, your body are separate. And they belong to me.

"One."

You have arrived.



________

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

He has returned. You hear the door open. You feel his eyes upon you. You shudder at the thought of the next torture. But you no longer fear his arrival. You anticipated it. You longed for it. You needed it.

He walks to the bed. His hand reaches out and touches your foot. His fingers slide up your leg. Over your shin. Your knee. Your thigh.

You feel the thrill of excitement coursing through your body. Aching to feel his touch on you. There.

But his hand moves past. Over your hip. Sliding across your stomach to the other side and up your side. His hand brushes the curve of your full breast, and keeps going.

Over your shoulder.

Your neck.

Your cheek.

He brushes the hair back from your temple and you look up at him longingly. Pleadingly.

"Please!" you gasp.

The back of his hand caresses your cheek.

"PLEASE!" you cry out.

He withdraws his hand and proceeds to untie your left hand. Then your right. He removes the bonds entirely.

You look at where the ropes held you. The padding prevented chafing, but there is still an indentation from the ropes. You feel free. And are overwhelmed with gratitude.

He steps back from the bed. You slide over and slip out of the bed. Naked. Standing before him. You feel his eyes on you. He says not a word. You don't even sense the words in your head. You simply know what you must do now.

You drop to your knees in front of him. You are ravenous for him. You must have him.

You reach up and unzip his pants. You reach in and pull him out. And without delay you take him into your mouth.

His hand rests on your head, approvingly. He strokes your hair as you give him your gift of service. You feel him grow and throb between your lips. You look up and see his masked face looking down at you, see his eyes through the mask and suck him harder, deeper down your throat. You want to make this the best he's ever had, the best you've ever given.

You crave his seed. To taste it. To drink deep of it.

But he has other plans.

He withdraws from your mouth, leaving you gasping for breath and reaching out to pull him back.

"Please. I want it. Please!" you beg.

He lifts you and backs you toward the bed, sitting you there. He walks to the desk and grabs the blindfold, then returns to you and slips it on you. Then he pushes you back.

You hear a rustling sound, and in a moment he's on top of you. Naked.

You feel his body on yours, feel him touching you. Kissing you. Taking you.

You moan in pleasure as his lips find your nipples. He sucks and bites them - hard enough to elicit a gasp of pleasure from you, but not hard enough to be truly painful.

And you feel him. Hard against your skin. Wet from your mouth. Your body writhes at his touch. Aches for more.

His mouth meets yours. His kiss is forceful. He is taking what he wants. And you are giving it. All of it.

You are taken by surprise when you feel him thrust into you. No warning. No preparation. But you didn't need it. You were dripping wet for him already. And he thrusts in deep, invading you. And you want it so bad.

You wrap your legs around him, locking your ankles behind his back and cry out as the first orgasm takes you.

He doesn't stop. Doesn't slow down. In fact, if anything, your orgasm propels him onward. Thrusting deeper and harder and faster.

You are being fucked. Not made love to. Not having sex. You are being fucked. He is using your body for his pleasure, and you know it, and you love it. And it makes you cum again. And again.

How many times have you cum? How long has he been inside you. It feels like hours. Days. Thrusting in and out, filling you. Kissing you...

He thrusts deep and holds it, then rolls over, keeping himself inside you as you settle on top of him. And ride him. You ride him hard as he lays back, holding your hands, fingers intertwined with yours. You feel yourself manipulating your muscles to massage his manhood, wanting nothing in the world more desperately than to feel him explode inside you. You work yourself up and down on him, fucking yourself with his cock.

You feel him nearing his climax, but he throws you off. He turns you over and takes you from behind. You scream in ecstasy when you feel him inside you again. He reaches up and grabs a fistful of your hair. He pulls hard on it as he shoves himself into you. His balls slap your clit with each thrust as he pounds you without mercy. Then he shoves your head down against the bed and continues to abuse your pussy. You are screaming and crying in orgasm. You feel every bit of his cock with each thrust. Every nerve ending in your pussy is alive and screaming in pleasure.

Another orgasm comes over you. You nearly pass out from the intensity.

He stops, pulling out he rolls you over. You sit up fast, before he can do anything, and wrap your lips around him once again, tasting yourself on his cock. You suck greedily on him and he grabs your head and begins thrusting. He's fucking your mouth.

You reach for the blindfold and almost get it off before he grabs your hand roughly.

He pulls out of your mouth, shoves you back, and thrusts himself into you once more.

Harder, more violently than ever. He pounds your pussy so hard that you think you're going to be bruised. But you don't care, you need him. You need his seed inside you.

You fuck back, rising up to meet each of his thrusts. Pounding your poor pussy back against him. you wrap your arms around him and claw his back as he pummels you.

And without warning it happens. One powerful thrust deep inside you and you feel him explode. His cum shoots deep inside you, filling your womb with his seed. He grinds against you and you keep him in, using your muscles to milk every drop of him into you.

he collapses on top of you. You can feel his chest heave and his heart pounding inside.

And your body is exhausted. Used up. Covered in sweat, you pass out completely.

_____


You slowly come to. Your senses slowly fade back in. You hear sounds in the background. You see light behind your eyelids and slowly, hesitantly, your eyes flutter open.

You're home. In your own bed.

How?

Why?

You slowly rise. You are clothed in the same clothes you wore Friday night.

You walk to the bathroom and look in the mirror. You see no change since Friday night. You look at your arms and see no signs of rope burns. You pull down your pants and look over your shoulder in the mirror and see no signs of your ass having been whipped or paddled.

You walk to the kitchen, dumbfounded. You go through the motions of making coffee. You're depressed now.

Was it all a dream? An amazing dream, but a mere dream.

Walking through the house with your coffee, you survey your life. Until Friday night, you would have said you were happy. Satisfied. Looking for more, yes, but not needing it.

This dream has you wondering. What are you missing out there by living your nine-to-five life? A sigh escapes your lips and you take another sip of your coffee, then walk back to the bedroom to start getting ready for work.

What is that?

You didn't see it before. You rolled out of bed without noticing it. You see it laying on a chair in your bedroom.

You walk hesitantly. Dumbfounded and speechless. You drop to your knees next to the chair and reach out for it.

You turn it over in your hands and stare at the cherubic face of the mask. Its eyes hollow and lifeless. There's no mistake. This is the mask. It was not a dream.

You are left, on your knees, clutching the mask, and wondering.

Who was this man?