Against Her Will

An eBook By Lizbeth Dusseau.

She fumed on and for a long while, she didn’t move or speak. She heard him near, imagining that he was sitting in a chair a few feet away - which he was - staring at her fuming angst.

Soon, she sat back, kneeling still, her sore ass resting on her feet, her hands limply at her side, her knees wide. The short skirt rode up so high that her entire pussy was exposed, while her breasts bulged from the halter and her nipples poked through the heavy fabric. So what was the need to rebel about? What could he do to her that hadn’t been done to her before? She was a pain junky, and her burning rump and burning back were starting to work on her physical body like a pair of massaging hands toying with her crotch.

Was he a mind reader? Or did he just know what turned a masochist into a slave?

Something - probably the tip of his cane - began to work its way under the skirt and dance about her wet and throbbing pussy. Teasingly. Like a single finger, inched its way into the furrow until he finally withdrew.

"A little reminder, Ms. Bloom, just in case you forgot what this was all about," he explained.

"So why don’t you just fuck me? That’s what you want." She attempted with little success to fend off the sudden erotic glut that caused her pussy flesh to throb. She breathed in, seething.

"You are too easy." His laughter filled her head

If only she could see his face, she’d know what kind of man he was. She’d understand him better. And what if she did lay her eyes on him, and he turned out to be some loathsome wimp, or a bug-eyed jerk, or a backwoods bully? What then?

"Time to strip, Kat, in case you forgot what I’m waiting for Time to see those hot knockers with the hard fat nips, those bodacious boobs, them purdy tits you’ve got hidden just enough inside that halter to keep me guessing. "

"God, you’re gross," she moaned.

"Am I? Maybe I am gross. Maybe I’m nothing but one of those simpering fools at the club you discard with such ease. Some pimply-faced nobody who got lucky last night when he found you hanging all by your lonesome. Wouldn’t that be your bad luck to spend eternity with a man you could only despise? Then again - what if I turn out to be a really smart-looking dude like the kind of dark fiend you thrive on? You might be lucky, or not."

The cane reached in along the side of the halter trying to pull it aside.

"But let’s get back to the matter of your clothes. It’s time, Kat. Discussion’s over. Take them off now, or I string you up by your heels and let you dangle while I whip those clothes right off your body. What’s it going to be?"

       The tip of the cane moved down and resumed its gentle journey along the secret passageways of her crotch. Her needy body suffered and her mind still rebelled, but her better instincts prevailed. The halter came off, the skirt slipped over her ass and down her legs, and the stockings, which must have been torn to shreds by now, were peeled from her skin. Maybe it was a relief to let him have his way. Maybe this was what it felt like to be submissive to a man. In all her nights at the club, through all the scenes of bondage and pain she’d gladly suffered, she’d never felt quite like this. She’d never been this far under a man’s control.

Her hot naked body relished the feel of the cool air on her skin, and shivered as she felt him eyeing each exposed body part...

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