Evocation (11 page)

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Authors: William Vitelli

BOOK: Evocation
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The beautiful, clear evening had brought many people out to the park. Walking among them on the end of a leash, with her shirt stripped of buttons and hanging open from her shoulders, was the most humiliating thing Eileen had ever experienced.

She tried to cover herself with her hands. Anthony shook his head. “No. Keep your hands behind your back. Stand up straight. If you try to cover yourself again, I will cuff your hands behind your back, and I will punish you severely when we get home. Do you understand?”

Burning with shame, Eileen obeyed. She felt incredibly vulnerable, and it seemed to her that every single person they passed could see right through to her core. She expected the stares from the men, some of them surprised, some of them embarrassed, some of them nakedly covetous. She expected their eyes to turn away, or to linger over her, tracing the geometry of her body with a tapestry of lust. What she didn’t expect was the looks from the women they passed, some of whom also admired her openly, eyes bright with desire.

A woman with dark hair and dark eyes looked her up and down as they drew close. Something about her reminded Eileen of the way that the nurse had looked at her, possession and hunger all coiled together. The woman stopped, directly in Eileen’s path, and smiled. She turned away, raising her arms to cover herself. Anthony slapped her hands away. “No.” The woman raised an eyebrow. Eileen felt the heat of shame rising on her face. The woman’s smile grew wider. She remained still, forcing Eileen to alter her path to move around her. The shame grew stronger. Her pussy tightened and her nipples hardened.

As they walked past the woman, the vibrator chose that moment to begin buzzing in quick staccato bursts. Eileen slowed, unsteady on her feet. The spikes brushed against her skin, reminding her to keep her legs parted. The woman turned to watch them walk away.

By the time they finally reached the car, she was lost in her own body, every bit of her awareness occupied with the surging feelings spreading through her, and with the need to move carefully to prevent the bite of metal points. She was barely even aware they were climbing the ramp to the parking garage until they were at the car. She opened her door and dropped gratefully into her seat.

Anthony sat down beside her. Before she was even settled, he leaned toward her to clamp one hand roughly over her mouth. Her eyes widened in shock. She let out a muffled cry. His other hand rose to squeeze breasts roughly. He pinched her nipples hard between his fingers, so tightly that she screamed into his hand.

The vibrator started a strong, steady buzz. Her cries became moans. She pressed her breast into his hand. Her toes curled.

Then, abruptly, he released her, leaving her gasping. “What…what was that for?”

“Just a little reminder,” he said.

“Of what?”

“Of the fact that I own your body. You are my property. I can do whatever I want to you, whenever I want to.” He turned and started the car.

Chapter 9

 

By the time they reached the house, the vibration had tapered off to almost nothing. At the door, he hiked up her skirt. She started to ask what he was doing, but before the question had formed on her lips, he had pulled out the tiny key that hung around his neck and unlocked the straps around her thighs. She felt relief to be away from the constant mentoring of hard metal spikes.

When they were inside, he set about preparing dinner. She watched him from the living room, trying to quiet the churning maelstrom of emotions that roiled inside her. They spoke little through dinner, but the dancing sparkle of devilish glee never left his eye. She ate demurely, head down, conscious of the shirt that hung open to expose her. The device within her thrummed gently.

When they had finished, Anthony broke the silence. “Go get your key.”

She shook her head to clear it. “My key?”

“In the night stand. To your punishment room upstairs. You still need to be punished. Remember?”

Her heart leapt into her throat. She opened her mouth to speak. The glint in his eye turned steely. “Hush. No words. No argument. Do as I say. Now.”

Her heart raced with fear. In the bedroom, she opened the small box and picked up the heavy key. Her name, engraved in beautiful flowery letters, gleamed up at her.

She held it in her hand for a long time, feeling mesmerized. When her head cleared, she walked slowly out of the bedroom to find Anthony waiting for her. “Come along, little whore.”

He led her up to the second floor, to the door at the end of the hall. There he stood, arms folded, waiting. She slid the key into the keyhole and twisted. The lock clicked back. The door swung open. Behind it, the crude wooden stairway ascended into darkness.

He stopped her before she could start to climb. “There is a hook on the inside of this door,” he said, pointing. “That is for your clothes. From this moment forward, you are forbidden to climb these stairs unless you are entirely naked. Whenever you come to this door, you will strip and hang your clothes on that hook before you go any farther. Do you understand?”

She nodded silently, eyes downcast. Tears brimmed.

“Good. Now strip.”

The shirt, stripped of its buttons, slipped off easily. Next came her shoes, followed by her stockings and the striped skirt. She stood uncertainly, still wearing the belt locked around her waist, not sure if he planned to remove it or not.

He answered the problem by taking the round key from his pocket. The lock opened, and he removed the harness holding the vibrator inside her. The egg-shaped device slid dripping out of her. He chuckled. “My goodness, you’re wet, little whore. Up you go!”

She climbed the stairs slowly, each step taking an eternity. Her heart pounded. She could feel the texture of each stair as she climbed, rough-hewn wood uneven beneath her bare feet. At the top, she opened the small door and stepped reluctantly into the room beyond.

Anthony came in behind her and flipped on the light. She looked around nervously. Lit by the harsh artificial glow of a single bare bulb overhead, the room felt menacing. Hard shadows threw the row of dildos and bondage devices along the shelves into bold relief. Anthony took her by the hand and led her to the low cast-iron bed with its leather-bound mattress. “Lie down. On your back, please.”

“I—”

He cut her off with a single stern look. With a shudder, she sat gingerly.

“Lie back.” He pressed her back onto the bed. The leather felt smooth and glove-soft against her skin. He raised her arms over her head to fit her wrists into the manacles. They closed around her, cold metal a strong contrast to soft leather. He did the same with her ankles. Her breath came in quick short gasps.

He turned to the stack of translucent bins. “For this punishment, I will need to immobilize you completely,” he said. Eileen watched him open a drawer and take out a stack of narrow leather straps, each one neatly coiled.

When he came back, he began strapping her down to the bed. He passed a strap over her forehead and under the mattress. When it was tightened and buckled, she found that she could not raise her head at all.

Another strap went over her shoulders. A third passed just below her breasts. He strapped down her hips, her upper thighs, and her lower thighs, passing each strap under the bed and pulling it tight. When he was done, her body was pinned so tightly to the bed she could not wriggle by even the tiniest amount.

“Are you hungry, little whore? Did the device make you want to come?”

She looked up at him, incapable of nodding. He smiled. “I bet it did. Do you remember when I told you that there would be times you would not be allowed to come, and other times when you would have to come whether you wanted to or not?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“I am going to make you come. I don’t care if you enjoy it or not. This orgasm will not be for your pleasure. I am just doing it to get you in the proper state to accept your punishment.” He moved between her legs. Her mouth went dry with fear. She felt his fingers probe her gently, then the wet slick of his tongue on her clit. “Oooh!” she sighed.

His fingers slid deeply into her. “Mine!” he barked. “This is mine. This belongs to me.” His fingers worked strongly, thrusting in and out of her. “Now come for me, whore!” He leaned over, tongue dancing on her clit.

After the repeated, unending edging that had been forced on her all evening, the orgasm didn’t take long. Ecstasy exploded inside her, intense and powerful. All the frustration and longing from all the near-orgasms she had been denied gave way to a single overwhelming eruption that left her shuddering, breathless, toes curled in euphoria. “Oh! Oh, God! Oh, my God!”

Anthony straightened. His fingers slipped out of her. “Did you like that, little whore? You should be nice and sensitive now and ready to be punished.” He disappeared from her field of view.

As the glow slowly faded and her breathing slowed, Eileen became aware that the straps around her were much too tight. Her legs were held apart just a little bit too wide for comfort. The leather belts prevented her from adjusting her position at all. Her hips were pressed deep into the mattress, and her head and shoulders were tied down so tightly she could not even rise up to see what Anthony was doing.

When he returned a moment later, he was holding a device she didn’t recognize, a handle with a large round knob on one end and a power cord on the other.

“What…what is that?”

“You don’t know? Interesting. I thought all women were familiar with this. Like by instinct or something.” He grinned. “It’s a Hitachi magic wand.” She watched him kneel to plug it in. “Think of it as an industrial-strength vibrator. This one has two speeds, which they call ‘high’ and ‘low.’ They really ought to call them ‘too high’ and ‘way, way, way too high,’ I think.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Punish you.” He stroked the sensitive folds of her sex. His fingers spread her open. She felt the touch of cool air as he pull back the hood over her clit. “You earned six minutes of punishment by not obeying me before we left this evening. For this punishment, I will be using the ‘way, way, way too high’ setting.” He set the antique stopwatch on the edge of the bed. She heard a switch flip. A low, evil buzz filled the air. “Your punishment begins now.” He pressed the head of the wand firmly against her defenseless clit.

Agony exploded through her. She screamed.

The next six minutes were the longest of Eileen’s life. She shrieked and fought against her bonds with all her strength, to no effect whatsoever. Anthony held the wand in tight contact with her raw, desperately overstimulated clit, tormenting her without remorse. She howled and wailed until her voice broke, and still he held it there, torturing her in her most sensitive place.

She came nine times in those six minutes. Every orgasm was a wrenching spasm of anguish, without the slightest trace of pleasure. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

After an eternity, it was over. He turned off the wand and stood. “I will not untie you until you stop crying.” Her skin glowed with sweat. Her body trembled uncontrollably, still reverberating with aftershocks.

It took a long time for her sobbing to slow. The screaming pain in her clit faded. Her gasping subsided. Her cheeks, streaked with tears, gradually dried.

Finally, when she had stopped crying entirely, Anthony unstrapped the leather belts that held her so tightly. The manacles around her wrists and ankles hinged open. He knelt beside her. She wrapped her arms around him tightly. He held her close, her head buried in her shoulders, until she could move again. Eventually, he helped her to her feet, and led her by the hand to the door.

She descended the stairs still quivering. Every slightest touch, from the gentle hand he held on her shoulder to the coarse wood beneath her feet, came through to her totally unfiltered by the normal intervention of her senses. She felt alive even to the tiny currents in the air around her.

At the bottom of the stairs, Anthony collected her things and ushered her onward. She passed naked and trembling into the bedroom. He picked up a pillow and set it on the floor beside the bed. “It is time for you to pleasure me again.”

“It…I…” She gulped. “It will be hard.”

He nodded. “It’s okay.” His hand caressed her cheek reassuringly. “You don’t have to enjoy it.”

Eileen sank to her knees on the pillow. As she unfastened his pants, she felt the texture of the fabric, the smooth hardness of the button, with vivid clarity. She drew out his shaft, the skin soft and warm under her touch, and brought it to her mouth. His flesh was hot and slightly musky on her tongue. She ran her hands up over the curve of his ass and pulled him deeper. He sighed with pleasure.

Her tongue ran in circles around the head as his erection entered her mouth. He stroked her hair gently. “Yes. Like that. You know what to do.”

Whimpering, she did as he had taught her. A drop of wetness formed at the end of his shaft, its taste overpowering to her heightened senses. She shuddered and tried to ignore it. Anthony’s hand guided her head, encouraging her to take him deeper still. Her lips and tongue caressed his cock, moving more and more quickly. His breathing sped up and his shaft thickened.

Then, with a cry, he came. Thick semen flooded her mouth, warm and overpowering. She choked. White fluid spilled out around his shaft and splashed down her cheek. She looked up at him with wide eyes. He spurted again. More creamy goo ran from between her lips, dripping down onto her breast.

“Oh. Oh, that felt good. I think it won’t be long before you are the best cocksucker in the state.”

She felt her face flush at the crude word. “Guh….” Come burbled from her lips to splatter on her leg. She paused, breathing heavily. “I don’t like when you call me that.”

He smiled tenderly. “But it’s what you are! If we call a person who cuts wood a woodcutter, what do you think we should call a person who sucks cock?”

She turned her come-streaked face away without answering.

“You look like you’re ready for bed.” He helped her to rise. “Let’s get you all tucked in for the night, shall we? Tomorrow I have to go back to work, as much as I would like to stay home and molest you all day.” He laid her in the bed, her face and body still splattered with his semen, and pulled the covers warm and snug over her. The manacles, attached to their long chains, closed around her wrists. She offered no protest, instead simply allowing him to chain her up and then snuggling against her pillow.

He finished undressing himself to slide in beside her. “Sleep well, my precious little slut.”

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