She was crying. Behind the makeshift gag in her mouth she was begging me to stop, not to hurt her, to let her go. More of the same. I had no intention of letting her go. Maybe ever. And that’s exactly what I told her. I insinuated that there had been others in the exact circumstances she was in. Hinted at murder, dismemberment, a shallow grave in the woods. I told her that if she ever wanted to leave this room alive she had to do exactly what I wanted, when I wanted, for as long as I wanted.Her eyes were wide, tears running down the sides of her head as she nodded her agreement. I climbed off of her chest and busied myself with her jeans. They were tight on her nice round ass and shapely legs, and I considered cutting them off at first, but just ended up pulling them off of her.
She wasn’t wearing panties. I called her a dirty little slut and ran the tip of my finger along the line of her slit. She moaned at my touch, trying to wriggle away from me, but it was too late. I had found out her secret: she was soaking wet, her lips full and swollen and her clit rock-hard. I slowly pushed my finger inside her, finding her just as wet and hot inside as out. I fingered her slowly, calling her a whore and a slut, asking her if she liked being used like this, telling her she was a dirty, dirty girl and that she should be ashamed. She thrashed around as I fucked her with first one and then two fingers, curling them up and finding that spot. She was going crazy, and I could tell from her moaning and the clenching of her pussy around my fingers that she was getting closer and closer to cumming.
“Are you going to cum while I finger you?” I asked, “Do you like to be raped by my fingers?” She moaned something that sounded like “No!” but her hips bucked up against my hand at the same time and then her pussy clenched tight around my fingers as she came, all the time crying and moaning “no” over and over.It was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. And we were just getting started.
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