We Meet Again (AndNich123 & Adam)

He kept driving the hard plastic deep inside her, and the feelings were something she could not put into words. Not even in her wildest imagination could she fathom the things he was doing to her, how they were affecting her body, and how everything felt to her at that exact moment. Slight warmth between her legs alarmed her as she knew she had not cum. It almost felt as if she were urinating. A wetness leaking from her body slowly that she felt on her pussy lips as well. Did I cum? I would have felt it. Right? It was the blood leaking from her injured, abused cervix and possibly even her womb. Deep, dark red liquid was slowly flowing down the toilet brush that she could not see. She exhaled slowly, her thoughts focusing on the almost now dull ache that was even filling her belly.

No! The thought screamed through her mind as he had decided she had failed the set task he gave her. She quickly took a deep gasp of air as she knew what he was about to do. Her head crashed into the bottom of the bath with a muffled thud. She was surprised and disappointed when she did not black out from that alone. Had she, then it would all be over soon. She couldn’t believe the very thought had gone through her mind. Did she really want this to be over that badly? Would death truly be better than bowing to him, submitting to his demands? If you would only do as he asks, play by his rules, his game, this wouldn’t be so bad! She knew this would mean swallowing what little bit of pride and dignity she still had. She had apologized, begged, and even pleaded with him. Now he was asking for her to say such horrible things about herself. Just do it next time Tessa! Do it, and get this over with.

She could hear his howls like the dog he had proven himself to be, and of course, there was the hot semen painting her ass from his cock. He’s cumming inside my ass. The nasty mother fucker is done. Finally. Of course she was disgusted, revolted even, but at least he had reached his climax. Perhaps now things will be in a different light for him, and he will let me go. She could only hope, and she did. In fact, she grabbed on to it with all she had. It was all she had.

The shooting pain that was quickly taking over her lower regions seemed to be hurling her towards unconsciousness. She held in her screams by biting her bottom lip again. It has proven useful the first time. She simply longed for the moment her mind would simply fade to blackness. He must be slicing open my womb. He has to be. She could feel her insides ripping with each pull; each withdrawal of whatever it was he was fucking her with. He’s going to kill me. He’ll either drown me in this bathtub or I’ll bleed to death. Whichever comes first. I could open my mouth and help this along, but do I really want to die? Her eyes rolled back in her head as she felt his meaty cock leave her ass stretched open and empty. She could feel something running down her legs.

What happened next unfolded so fast. Before she knew it, she was looking up at him held down her throat. The roses piercing her skin decorating her with fresh wounds. Even now he wanted to fuck her. His fingers gliding into her pussy with ease. There was nothing she could do. No pain this time. Just pleasure than began to work through her once more. Just as before. She was shocked still. Her clit a hard mass beneath his thumb, and her sore pussy walls clamping down to his fingers with each punishing thrust. She could see his eyes. There was nothing there. Coldness. No compassion. No love. No caring. No fear. No fear of killing her. That was the last thought she held on to as everything slowly began to drift away from her. Even the pleasure he was giving her was simply fading away. Darker and darker, everything was simply falling into an abyss. Everything around him was gone. A void. His face was all she saw. Her own heartbeat seemed slowed, pounding in her own ears. Strangely to her, it sounded like the waltz all of this torture began with. That sound, his face, and then there was nothing.

He watched her eyelids slowly close while the panicked expression on her face faded into a calm and tranquil sleep. He let go of her throat and her pussy, just watching her without touching. So calm. Almost like the corpse on an open casket funeral. His own thought scared him, and he was rocked back into reality. Shit, he had to get her up before it was to late.

Hurriedly he bent down and lifted her up in his arms, water gushing from her body. It looked like some ridiculous scene from Baywatch - the hero rescuing the pretty girl and carrying her in his bare arms - but he felt more like king Arthur embracing the lady of the lake. Then it stuck him. He literally had had the power over life and death. Wasn't that the fruit Adam could not eat after they had gained knowledge of right and wrong - the tree of life - because then he would be like God? This hotel room was their Eden, and he was the first Man. But unlike Adam, he knew he would not fall. He would rise.

All these thoughts were so baffling that he forgot for a second to check that she was breathing again. With trembling hands he lay her down on the cold floor. Yes, her breasts, perfectly shaped and milky white apart from the bruises his groping fingers had left, slowly rose and fell with her breathing even though she was still unconscious. Relieved he first wiped the blood that coated his now softening penis off with some toilet paper, and then proceeded to take her wet and torn blue dress off so he could carefully dry her body with the big white towel the hotel had provided. He even dried the golden hair that clung to her face, working gently and meticulously. If someone had seen him without knowing what had just happened, they might have mistaken him for some kind of masseuse at a spa.

When he was satisfied that she was dry, he lifted her up again and carried her to the bedroom, where he gingerly lay her down on top of the blanket, careful not to hurt her. The serenity of her unconscious face highlighted her almost godlike beauty. Looking at her, he suddenly felt like seventeen again, he was a boy admiring her unattainable perfection. His cock was hard again. Before he understood what he was doing, he had climbed on top her her, spreading her legs.

Even though his cock was big it slid easily into her still wet pussy. In missionary position he started to fuck her. No, that was not what he was doing. He was making love to her, kissing her lips, her throat, nibbling at her ear lobes, caressing her soft skin, her perky breasts, rocking his penis gently inside her as if she was his beloved bride on the wedding night. The sad fact that kept him from fully appreciating the moment was that despite how much he wanted this, he would never be able to do it while she was awake. The shame was simply to strong - because one thing he knew for sure was that any display of kindness or passion towards her would just turn into humiliation again.

So he was left with the only option of using her lifeless, limp body as a sex toy. With her just lying there, he was not having sex with her, he was masturbating into her. She was a blowup fuckdoll, only made of skin, meat and bones instead of plastics and air. After her long stay underwater she was just barely warmer then one too. Just a fuckdoll. But still, she was his fuckdoll.

It did not take long for him to orgasm again. Wailing while he sucked on her cold lower lip like a pacifier he filled her pussy with another huge load of sticky cum. Sweaty and ashamed he crawled off her naked body, leaving the sperm in her vagina as the only clue to what she had been exposed to. He looked back at the girl of his dreams, who by accident had dropped right into his reality. She looked like a sleeping princess from a Disney film, waiting for the kiss of the prince. She is no princess, she is a whore, he tried to convince himself. "And you are no prince." Unintentionally he said it loud to himself.

No, he could not take this any more. The mixed emotions he felt - he did not know if he was supposed to love her or hate her - made his stomach turn and his mind spin. He had to get out of there, away from her. Fortunately he had his bags packed since he had been planning to take the morning flight from Denver. Now he just wanted to leave Tess, leave Sterling, leave Colorado, as quick as possible and go home to New York. Yes, that was his home now, not this sickening place.

He called a cab, and quickly changed into a new suit, one that was not splashed with water and without blood stains on the sleeves. Before he left he picked up the wrinkled envelope from the floor. It contained three hundred dollars - two hundred for one hour, and a fifty percent tip he as usual had put in to dampen his remorse. Without thinking he put all the cash he had in his wallet, a stash of hundred dollar bills he did not care to count, into the envelope, straightened it out and put it on the night stand next to her bed.

Almost against his own will he covered her up with the blanket, tucking her in like one would do with a child. Instinctively he bent down to softly kiss her forehead in a goodbye she would never know she had received. Then he walked out of the hotel room without looking back, switching the lights off before he quietly closed the door behind him.

The cab was waiting down on the street. As it took him out on the freeway, he felt safe in the knowledge that every second he was getting farther away from the town he grew up in.

Morning light slowly began to filter into the room as the massive glass windows offered no protection from it. It warmed everything it touched. Including Tessa. Her eyes slowly stirred, and she felt the aching pain all over her body. She looked around the room carefully. No sign of him. Almost holding her breath, she listened to every sound. The tiniest from the loudest. The hum of the air conditioner. The winds whistling just outside the window. The way the covers rustled as she moved the minutest amount. She feared moving for if he were there, he might hear her and come inside. She would lay there for at least an hour until she heard a knock at the door. “House keeping Mr. Finnigan.” She would knock again and repeat herself before using her card to enter the room. Her voice rang out from the door, and Tessa could hear the wheels from her cart. Stills he did not move. Shadows moved towards the bedroom, and the older woman appeared in the bright, polished uniforms the hotel staff wore. Tessa put her finger to her mouth in a gesture whispering, “Shhhhh. Is he here,” she then mouthed to her. The older woman left for what seemed like an eternity before reappearing shaking her head. Tessa bolted upright wrapping the blanket around her naked, bruised body. Searing soreness gripped her as she did so, but she was determined. “Get out! Nothing is needed! Just get out! Get out! Get out!” She had leapt to her feet at this point and was ushering the woman out of the door. As the door closed between them, Tessa sank to the floor against it. No longer able to contain her tears, she found her sweet release and comfort in knowing it was all over. He was gone, and she was once more safe. Safe, or was she? She looked up realizing he could return at any moment, and she was still there. Her body nearly stumbling to the floor as she scrambled upright, she made it to the nearby table, grabbing the phone, and calling her sister. “Cammie! Oh my Cammie! I need you! Bring some clothes to me! Hurry!” There was a silence for a moment before the soft voice on the other end of the line replied. “Tess what’s wrong? Where are you?” Tessa would go on to simply tell her where she was before she let the phone slip back down.

An hour or so, she wasn’t really sure how long, later Cammie was knocking on the door. “Tess it’s me! Open up!” Tessa pulled the door open for her clutching the blanket. “Geez Tess. Did your client destroy your clothes last night?” She nodded taking the bag and dropping the blanket. Cammie studied her body carefully as the bruises, cuts, scraps; all of it was bare to her. “Damn it Tessa what the fuck did this crazy ass bastard do to you last night?” Her voice was laced with her concern for her sister. “I’m okay Cammie.”
“The fuck you say. Look at you!”
“I’m okay. I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“You need to tell someone Tessa! Got to a doctor! Look at your body. You’ve b been bleeding!”
True enough there was dry blood on her thighs and ass. “I’m fine. Okay. “She studied her sister before she continued. “Cammie, I want to leave Sterling. I can’t stay here anymore.” Shocked her sister reached out touching her arm halting her from dressing. “Tessa why? Talk to me.” She looked into her sister’s eyes and tried to steady her emotions. She didn’t want to worry her or upset her. “Cammie I just need to get as far away from this place as I can.”
“Was it that bad?”
Slowly Tessa nodded. “Yeah.”
“Okay then. I know how much you will hate leaving daddy. You always talk about your summer with daddy, but I’m going to New York. I’ve been offered a scholarship up there, and I was planning on spending my summer up there to scout the place out. Come stay with me until you get on your feet. That is if you want to try living there.” A smile on her face. The thought of sharing a place with her sister did sound lovely. Leaving Sterling and all these horrible memories of that night behind her. “Okay.” Tessa would finish dressing and take one last look around before she left. The sights she saw amazed her she survived. The smudge mark on the floor in the living room where he pressed her face to it. The bloody toilet brush in the bathroom, the water still in the tub with the crushed roses still there, and even his belt remained. A sad reminder that perhaps even he wanted to leave behind. Finally she carried the blanket to the bedroom placing in a heap on the bed. The stains on the bedding only confirmed what she was already afraid of. He had fucked her pussy. His cum and her blood and left a very noticeable, sizeable spot. She was angry. The bastard fucked me while I was out. He held me under the damn water until I passed out, carried me in here, and then he fucked me! She was furious, but there was nothing she could do. It had happened. It was over, and to try and lash out against him for it would certainly only cause her more suffering. His words, his threat from last night at the door, came back to her. He could bribe anyone he wanted to and do whatever he wanted to her. Away from him was the safest place for her. The envelope caught her attention, and she picked it up. There was far more money in there than before. “Guilt money. Hush money. Bastard. I hope you rot wherever you are James, and I hope I never see you again.” Her sister called to her, and Tessa would go on to show her the money. “Oh shit! Tess that’s a lot of money.”
“Cammie we will be fine. We can use this to get on our feet in New York.”
“Yeah,” her sister smiled.

The two sisters went on to leave the hotel behind them, and Tessa would begin to put that night behind her. She would never tell Cammie the details of that night. Cammie often wondered, but never pressed. Why did I have to bring my sister clothes, and what the hell did that man do to her? Questions she would not get the answers to. In New York the two got an apartment together, and sadly Tessa returned to her previous line of work. Once more the need to pay bills and eat was proving to be a bit much. She had used some of his money to buy a used car. The two were not only getting along, but making memories and planning a life together. Cammie would return to the apartment after high school to attend the college since she fell in love with it quickly. Tessa would continue her current work despite her sister urging to go back to school. They often had many discussions about that very fact. One evening they were cooking together, discussing this very subject, and Cammie decided to turn on some music. “Classical. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I don’t. Anything but Johann Strauss. The Blue Danube Waltz creeps me out.”

When he got back home he expected the events of the dreadful weekend to just disappear from his memory as he as usual immersed himself fully in his work again. But they did not, on the contrary he found it harder and harder to stop thinking about what had happened. Had he done anything wrong? No, he tried to convince himself. Did she still think he was a pathetic looser? No, he wanted to scream to himself. Did he care about her? No, for gods sake! Did he miss her? NO!

That lewd woman even sneaked into his dreams. Sometimes she would be his lover passionately kissing him while she eagerly accepting his stiff penis inside of her warm body, only to in the next second transform info a black raven who tried to poke his eyes out with its sharp beak. Sometimes she would be running away from him, and he would chase her like a wolf trying to catch a scared hare through dark woods or never ending labyrinths. Sometimes he was bending her over his knee and spanking her nude bottom until the red skin flaked and started to peel off revealing the flesh beneath on both her ass and his hand. Sometimes, she was a mermaid descending into a roaring ocean, and he a shipwrecked sailor trying to follow her into the depths, but he always ran out of air before he could reach her. In the beginning of the dreams she would be wearing the blue lace dress, but as he drifted further into restless sleep she would turn into her fifteen or seventeen year old self, wearing the two sizes to small Sterling High football team t-shirt she used to use to entice favors out him. All the time he woke up screaming, gasping for breath, ensnared in cheats wet and cold with sweat, all alone in his over sized imperial bedroom.

He started to stay up longer, afraid of the dreams that would haunt him. But sooner or later Morpheus always lured him to sleep releasing him into the dream empire that she seemed to be the uncrowned queen of. Braking his usual routine to be the first one at the office at seven in the morning every day, he started to show up late with black eyes and a wrinkled shirt, the usually so meticulously tied tie just loosely hanging around his neck.

Fortunately he was the boss, so no one could reprimand him for his deteriorating behavior. Everybody in his ten head strong team, all the way down from the receptionist Sarah and his personal secretary Emilia up to his right hand man Collin kept a polite facade and did not mention, not even hint, at his so drastically changed appearance. Life in the Manhattan office continued as usual, only with a much more tense atmosphere.

Until one day he messed up a buy and a sell order and with the stroke of a pen he lost more money than a hundred nights with a common prostitute like her would have costed him. Collin, who was the closest to a friend James had, very cautiously, tip toing around the subject for an eternity before he could spit it out, suggested that perhaps he maybe should take a vacation. After all he had not had more then a handful of days off since he founded the company as a break out group from Bear Sterns, where the snide executives never payed his talent the price it truly deserved.

James agreed, and the next morning he was on a flight to Las Vegas. He was not going there to gamble, he was to smart for that, he was going there to cure himself of his lingering addiction to her. During his stay there a stream of prostitutes passed through his hotel room. The time he did not spend with them he spent browsing the online catalogues for girls looking like her, with the same blonde hair, the same alert blue eyes and the same petite but still curvy body.

Needless to say, they were all disappointments. Some he sent away already at the door since they looked nothing like the pictures nor like her. The ones he did let in never really lived up to her beauty, with brown outgrowth on their fake blonde hair or breasts ruined by repeated plastic surgery. Even though generous tips made them play along in his fantasy - dressing up in the clothes he provided them with, calling themselves Tess, reading the lines he gave them with voices as dead and bored as the their lifeless eyes and forced smiles. "Yes, James, since the first time I saw you I have just lounged for you to fuck my seventeen year old cunt." "I didn't even touch myself before I met you, and now I think of nothing but having you inside me while I rub my pussy every night." Their bored voices echoed empty in his hotel room,

The few girls who were any good presented him with another problem. As soon as they got him truly aroused - not just hard enough to be physically able to perform the act - he lost control of himself. One girl he banged down so hard into the oak dinner table when he was about to fuck her ass that she became completely dizzy and threw up, probably suffering a concussion. Another girl he without thinking threatened to impale on a wooden spear through her pussy up her belly when her wonderful blow job skills combined with the most delicious dirty talk - "I want you to claim my body as yours, James. It has always been yours, will always be." - worked him up into a violent frenzy. Chocked at his increasingly violent threats she had pepper sprayed him and ran away, leaving only a pair of wet panties behind as a token. A third girl got her nose broken by his fist when she after doing everything right suddenly forgot that her name was Tess and broke character just when he was about to finally cum all over her angelic face after having already pierced her tight ass while she cried out her eternal love for him in agonizing pain.

It took him no more than a week to get black listed from three of the major agencies in Las Vegas, and soon thereafter he had retorted to searching for cheap crack whores on the streets since no one would return his calls. Slowly it dawned at him that his enterprise was utterly bound to fail, and that there was only one thing left to do.

The next morning he took a plane to Denver, but to his great dismay there did not seem to be a trace of her even though he contacted all of the agencies in the area. Had his little fun with her scared her to the point that she had quit? Would he need to go back to Sterling to search for her?
That was not an option, just the thought of that town made him need an aspirin. Instead he hired a private detective to track her down while he spent the day with one of Tess' former colleagues. Already the same evening he got the report - all the while she had been in New York where she had moved with her sister. How ironic. He even got their home address, her phone number, plus the agency she worked for now and the name she used. Off course she had not quit, without spreading her legs that bitch would never be able to pay the bills.

Wasting no time he flew back to New York. It was a rainy autumn day in the beginning of september, months after that fateful meeting in the hotel room. From JFK he took a cab to his home, a quite tasteless MacMansion on the Brooklyn Heights. The house had been constructed on a prime piece of property, with a great view over the Hudson, Brooklyn Bridge and Manhattan from the backyard, after the previous house from the colonial period had been bulldozed some twenty years ago. With two floors, plus a basement and an attic, whitewashed walls, dark roof tiles that glittered in the sunlight and to many bedrooms it was exactly the kind of house a man with his salary could be expected to have.

The first thing he did when he closed the door behind him, shutting out the rising storm, was to call her agency and make the necessary arrangement. Yes, he wanted to see her tonight as quickly as possible. Yes, he wanted her and no one else. Yes, he had some special requests. Make her wear ridiculously high heel, dress her up like a true bubblegum whore. Yes, pink lipstick would be perfect. Yes, he would arrange for a cab to be sent for her.

Then he called up the taxi company and made some special arrangements. In return for a generous tip the driver would sneak in a special song, without mentioning it for the lady he was driving, as if it only happened to be played on the radio. He sent them an MP3 with "An der schönen blauen Donau" from his phone.

With everything taken care of, he sat down in a big confy leather arm chair
in his living room with his feet up on the glass table, sipping on a glass of sixteen year old single malt, while he admired the view of New York and waited for her to arrive.

Life in New York was slowly becoming the change Tessa had needed. She was still plagued by nightmares. Often she would awaken screaming and thrashing about. Cammie would rush into her grabbing her arms trying to calm her down. On more than one occasion, before she was fully awake and in control, Tessa had punched her. Her sister, being very understanding, never got angry. She knew something was going on, but she didn’t pry. She knew her sister would tell her when, and if, she was ready. Although she did notice the subtle things about her sister that were not the same. Tessa didn’t work as much at first. In fact she was even keeping doctor appointments a secret from her as well. She didn’t talk to their daddy as much, and when she did, she always seemed on the verge of breaking down. Tessa seemed to shy away from talking to people more than she ever did. At times, it was almost as if she were hiding behind her sister. Still Cammie kept her distance from what was clearly a touchy subject after the two engaged in a physical confrontation one evening when she decided to push the subject. She offered her sister her companionship and anything else she needed when she needed it.

Easing back into work was no easy task. Sex hurt. There were many other fancy ways she could have expressed the feeling in her mind, but when a man was fucking her, and her head was turned to the wall, her mind trying to drift a million miles away from exactly where she was, it hurt like hell. His semen would burn when he released inside her, and her cries of anguish were always mistaken for pleasure. Stupid men. Don’t know the difference between pain and pleasure, but then again I was already aware of that. A lesson James made sure to teach me. She would offer her services. Since her encounter with James, she would even try to offer light conversation. He had shown her that if she had only been nice to him that night, it may have gone differently. So she would invite them to share small talk with her. They always wanted the same thing though. Her on her knees, sucking their cocks, followed by them fucking her until they climaxed inside her. It was dull and mind numbing, but at the same time, it offered a strange sense of comfort. It was constant, stable, and reliable. That night with James had taught her that there was so much a man could do that she would never have planned on happening when she showed up at their doorstep. Her insides had been cut to shreds from his brutal use of the toilet brush. It still sickened her to think he had shoved a nasty, vile toilet brush up her pussy. She contracted an infection that she needed to take antibiotics for. Still the pain while healing was almost unbearable. Sex only aggravated it as well, but she had to work. The doctor’s couldn’t very well write a note to pay the bills and get money from the clients. So she would lie on her back and endure the pain. Her arms were a minor issue really. Small cuts and scrapes from the roses. She did suffer some sore muscles from being restrained for so long, but she simply toughed that out. Her ass, on the other hand, nearly suffered prolapsed. Had James been any more violent with her, and she very well could have. The doctors informed her surgery would be required to repair that. Still it made going to the bathroom more than a dreaded event. Her breasts and throat had bruises from his meaty hands being all over her. She used make-up and scarves to hide the ones on her neck. Her breasts, she simply let go. Some clients would ask her about them, but in truth, Tessa knew they didn’t give a damn. She would talk dirty to them, and they would forget about it. Doesn’t take much to change the direction with the stupid, worthless creatures.

Two months had passed, and it was time for Cammie to head back to Sterling. She would finish out her last year of high school and return to the loft apartment they had been sharing. Tessa had slept on the couch knowing that when Cammie left, she would get the bed. It was a small sacrifice to pay to spend the time with her sister. They lived in an area known as Murray Hill. It was affordable, nice, decent, and most importantly, safe. Their goodbye was a tearful one. Tessa contemplated getting a cat. Anything. So that if she never returned home one night, someone would be there to miss her.

She had finally healed and eased back into working full time again. The agency she now worked for didn’t seem all that different from the one back in Sterling. Then again, perhaps all of these places were, to some extent, the same. It didn’t matter. As long as the money kept coming in. She tried to get other jobs, but they either didn’t pay enough or she wasn’t suited for the work. Fast food, retail, even working as a barista. Tessa didn’t have the temperament for it. Maybe James was right. Maybe all I am is a failure. A whore. A slut. NO! He’s the failure! She knew that last part wasn’t true. He had gone to make so much more of himself, and she was just a hooker on her back. At least I don’t beat people, hurt them, and rape them. No. I just tear them down and apart. He and I really aren’t that different. The sad part was she knew, and believed, what she thought was the truth.

She had gotten he call for a job that night along with the requirements. High heels, pink lipstick, and basically be a bombshell. Okay. I can do this. I like my red lipstick best, but the customer is always right. So Tessa dressed for the part. He had sent a cab to pick her up, which sent a red flag up for her right away. No one would notice her car at wherever she was going, and it wouldn’t draw attention where it was now. Still, with her reservations, she climbed inside the cab and closed the door. The view of the city at night was always perfect. Even though she knew she didn’t belong in the part of town he was taking her, it was still a treat to see such spectacular sights. She couldn’t help but smile. Times like this were when that night was nothing more than a distant memory. It was almost as if it never happened. The cab winded through the streets taking her to her destination. It was faint at first, but it began to build. Tessa slowly turns to face the driver. There is was. The waltz. THAT waltz. Why in the hell is he playing that?
“Turn it off. Now.” There was no kindness to her voice, and she was barely able to keep the panic and fear from her tone.
“I’m sorry Ma’am. I can not. The radio is broken.” True music had been playing the entire time, but this?
“Turn it down at least. All the way down.”
“I can not Ma’am. It’s broken. These cabs are not in the best shape. I apologize. Try to enjoy.”
She leaned into the seat closing her eyes. That night was right in front of her again. She could smell the bath water, the roses, and him. She gripped her arms tight in an embrace. Her legs squeezed together as if trying to keep some unseen suitor from being granted access. She became lost in that night. The belt, his fingers around her throat, her ass being violated, and his fingers fucking her pussy. Her breathing picked up as the music kept playing, and strangely enough, she became aware of a wetness growing. No. No. No. No. She shook her head. I am not aroused by any of this. Lie. The memory of his fingers stretching her pussy as he took her was the only thing she enjoyed from that night, and it was getting to her, exciting her, building desires within her, and she was powerless once more to stop the feelings taking over her body. Just as it was almost becoming too much, the cab stopped and the driver announced they were there. She opened her eyes to the house and quickly left the cab. She couldn’t open the door fast enough to get out. She was fully aware she had slammed the door, but she didn’t care as she gazed as this beautiful home. Rich. Should have known. Why do all the rich ones you to dress up like whores? Why don’t they want you to dress up classy for a lovely dinner first? I’ve watched too many sappy movies about hookers falling in love. That shit doesn’t happen. These rich men are still men, and that makes them dogs. She rolled her eyes before making her way to the door. She rang the doorbell and awaited. Probably has some fancy butler, but there was no answer. This is crazy. He called for me. He knows I’m coming. Oh what the hell. She opened the door calling out softly at first. Nothing. Stepping inside she closed the door softly.
“Hello?” Her calls became louder as she stepped further in the house. “The agency sent me. Hello? Is anyone here? Do you need me to come back at another time? I can. It’s no….” Her words stopped cold. There, in the living room, resting comfortably, he sat. James. Her body could not move a muscle. Fixed to the spot she stood in, the last word of her intended sentence was spoken. “Problem.”

James heard the girl knock, knowing who it must be, but he figured it would be more fun if she got to search for him herself, like the beginning of some low budget horror movie. Indeed his hallway could be kind of intimidating but more in an impressive way, that was surely what it had been designed for - to chock and awe visitors. The floor was marble, there was crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling set to just dimply lit the room and double stairways, one on each side of the room, led up to the second floor. Between them there was a piece of modern art, a quite messy oil creation in black and white where you could only barely make out the form of a female body. He did not care especially for it, he could not even remember the name of the artist, but the people he had consulted had told him that she was very much in vogue and the thing to buy.

He listened to the sound of her steps, cheap heels meeting the expensive stone. As she traversed the hall she called out for her unknown buyer, but he did not respond. It would be more fun for both of them if it came as a surprise. As she reached the painting, from where she could see the two hallways, to the left a long series of closed door, and to the right the living room, her voice changed. He did not need to lock, he knew she had seen him.

Without turning his head to look at her, keeping his eyes on the thousands of small lights from the towering island of Manhattan and their reflections in the Hudson river, he slowly took another sip from his glass and then spoke in a cold and but strangely soothing voice: "How nice to meet you." The exact thing he had said when he first had recognized her the last time they met, only with less stammering. That time he had been thrown completely out of tracks, while she had remained calm and composed as if their unlikely meeting while unexpected was the most normal thing in the world. This time, he was quite sure, it would be the other way around.

"Now you are supposed to say: 'James Finnegan, is that you?'" He did a bad imitation of her girly voice, and then had a good laugh about it that echoed through the halls as if he just didn't sense the tense mood that was filling the room. "Don't you remember? Well, we need to have a little talk about what happened that night. So come and sit down here like a good girl." he said and patted his lap to instruct where he wanted her. It was not until now that he slowly turned his head to face the prostitute who had wandered into his lair. With a smug smirk on his lips, the amusement and enticing rush of power that was overtaking him finally braking down his stonewall facade, he added: "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."

It was all like a bad dream. One of the many that had become the bane of her existence except she wasn’t waking up. He was real. This house was real. His voice eerily filling her ears as the waltz began to play in her mind. Slowly, as he spoke, her mind began to put it all together at rapid speed. He had set all of this up. He had called for her. He is the one that wanted her to dress like this. The cab driver. The music. It had all been a set up. Some sick little game he was playing. His game. She swallowed against her fears still listening to him. Remember Tessa. This is his game. Literally you’re on his playing field now. Watch your step. Her very steps were in fact, slowly edging backwards. Stepping softly as to not make a sound on the marble floor, she never took her eyes off of him. Come and sit on your lap? You truly are mad. You have the gall to think I am going to sit on your lap and talk about that night? You’re trying to, in a sense recreate that night. She turned slowly towards the door, and her mouth opened in a silent panic. If he was trying to recreate that night then….Her thoughts trailed as she looked back at his face now taking in the sight of her. “The door is locked. Isn’t it James?” There was no need for him to respond as she felt certain it was. Her body a near puddle standing there as he was the one in control once again. He promised he won’t hurt you Tessa. Yeah right! Crazy people don’t keep their word! Alright! Get a grip!

She steadied herself, still trying to press the air of a confident woman on him. The same as she was back way back when they were younger. Her shoulders back, head held high, her mouth in a thin, tight line; she took her first uneasy step towards him. One foot in front of the other one girl. You can do this. Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. BREATHE! Don’t forget to breathe. She was so unsure with every step she took, but by his side she came to rest. Suckling her bottom lip first, she bit it hard before she nodded and edged her way to his lap. Keep playing the game girl. Her trembling hands gripped her bag that she allowed to rest in her lap. Almost over wrought with her own fears, it was nearly impossible to turn and look at him, but she did. Her blue eyes resting in his, she cleared her throat. “Alright James. I’m here. Wh-What do you want to talk about that night for? I-It’s over. Done. I didn’t….I didn’t tell anyone. I….I do mean anyone. I promise. So….” She shook her head allowing her sentence to be an assumed one as she fought back the impending shower of tears that threatened her eyes. His gaze, his body, the memories of that night that were flooding her mind were all becoming too much. She gripped her bag in an effort to steady her nerves once more.

This is how you catch fish with your bare hands. Keep your hands still in the water, and wait for the fish to come to you, to swim to it's own doom. He did not move, he did not flinch, he did not speak. Leaving her question about the door unanswered and allowing her to draw her own conclusion, he did not even look at her as she slowly gravitated towards him as she was bound to do, like a fading star towards a black hole.

When she finally sat down in his lap, her slender body so light even when she was rigidly tense like now, he gently put one arm around her back, the hand resting softly on her belly as he reached around her, and the other hand on the outside of her thigh, just above her knee. Feeling her soft butt, the butt he so ruthlessly had fucked the last time they met, resting on his lap his penis started to grow hard. He knew she could feel it, even through his black suit trousers and her pretty dress, but he did not mind. Hearing her voice so weak, stammering like a confused and scared child, only made him harden faster until his member was fully stiff and poking at her behind. Might as well give her a foretaste, he thought.

"You were such a bad girl the last time we met." he said, his voice playful and his eyes gazing at her like those of a cat playing with a wounded mice it would soon devour. Even though she was sitting in his lap his head was still above hers, so she had to look up if she wanted to meet his gaze. "I had to give you so much punishment..." His hand moved from one leg to the next, gently spreading them open. "...and so little reward." Thick, cold fingers were finding their way in under her dress, caressing the inside of her thigh, steadily moving upwards, closer to her groin. "Since I am such a generous man, as I am sure you have come to know..." Her panties were being pushed aside by resolute fingers, his index finger resting between her labia and slowly sinking in. "...I wanted to give you this opportunity to change your ways and be a good girl so you truly can experience the pleasure of reward." His index finger was buried deep inside of her warm pussy now, slowly rocking in and out of her.

As he leaned forward his mouth found her ear, his tongue snaking out and licking the inside of her earphone. After sucking on her earlobe for a while, biting it gently before letting go, he whispered into her ear: "Did you know that to keep sheep inside the pasture you don't need to have electricity in the fence? You just use it when the lambs are young, and after one chock they never try escaping again, so the farmer can save some money and turn the electricity off." He laughed a gruntled laugh, her body vibrating with it in his lap. "The door is open. You can make a run for it if you want to." he said, making it sound like a challenge. But at the same time his long finger penetrated her pussy, joining his index finger inside her, and his thumb started to rub on the hood over her clitoris.

His embrace was gentle, and yet she flinched as he touched her. It took all she had to remain to calm in his grasp. She was literally the fly that had flown into the spider’s web. An analogy that came to her as she sat there now, far too late to react, to struggle, to attempt to tear free from the sticky confines of the spider’s silk. His cock was already growing beneath her ass, and the memory of the bath came back in very vivid detail. Short bursts, filled with her screams and searing pain. Her breathing increased slightly. Get it together Tessa. Not here. Not now. The game. The fucking game! Remember it! That’s right! Remember it, but don’t fear it! It’s just a memory. It can’t hurt you, but he can. He’s right here, next to you, and if you blow this, he can hurt you again.

The sarcasm dripped from his words as he damn near mocked her, and she felt a slight rage, a tinge of anger, build up beneath her terrorized blue eyes. You fucking bastard! You had to punish me! You fucking raped me and then tried to kill me!” Her muscles tightened as his hands began to work up her body. Fuck! Don’t touch me you vile beast! Her mouth as if she had tasted something horrible or sour. She was losing this battle quickly to play his game. Forgetting the rules, forgetting the game, she was giving in to her fears and feelings for him. NO, her mind screamed as the soft fabric of her panties was nothing to him and his determined fingers. Why? Why all this? Why me? Is he still that little obsessed boy from school that never got the proper mental care he clearly needs? I wish you would just die right here and now. Why can’t you die? Why can’t your heart just stop beating at this moment? I would call for help. I would. They would know I didn’t kill you. It would be all over the news, and I would be safe. Your body as cold as your heart, I would be safe from you. It was clear how much she detested him, and her feelings were slowly creeping out to her face. A sharp intake of air as he violated her wet pussy. Why am I so fucking wet? He tried to kill me and being here with him now, on his lap, his dick pressing into my ass, the ass he nearly ripped apart, and I’m wet? She knew he noticed. How could he not? Her cheeks reddened. What would he say? Would he say anything at all? Oh shit this feels so fucking good. Don’t stop James. STOP! Fuck my pussy. Get your damn hands off me! She spread her legs a bit wider for him. I hate you! Such an inner conflict burning, brewing inside her, and with her focus lost now, it was very possible he noticed it all.

Her eyes closed at his warm mouth’s advances on her ear. In that moment, she forgot who he was. He was just another client, and she was truly enjoying everything he was doing. Her body reacting to him, and even wanting him, she let go of her bag with one hand to gently grip his arm. Pulling him in closer to her pussy, she was nudging him along. Her eyes shot open as he told of the sick lesson the farmers taught the young sheep. Was that I am to you? A sheep that you taught a lesson to? You mother fucker! I hate you! I want to rip your heart from your chest and make you choke on it! She continued as he told her more. So very much more indeed. I can run for it. NO! It’s a trap. You run in these heels and you will….he set all of this up. He wanted me in the highest heels possible. He knows I can’t get away in these. Don’t run Tessa ! It’s a trap! Play his fucking game! She leaned her head back as he kept fucking her with more of his meaty fingers now. It did indeed feel incredible. Why did he have to be such a dick? If he were a nice guy, I might could enjoy him, even like him, but he’s..he’s exactly what I turned him into. This..this is all my fault. So let’s play. She quickly slides her shoes from her feet spreading her legs clearly wider for him. Her mouth turning to his pressing upwards, her lips meeting his. She pushed ever onward, her tongue forcing into his mouth with a hunger. She kissed along his jaw line allowing her teeth to gently graze his skin until she reached his ear. Her arm around his back now, she pulled him in closer as her foot came up to rest the chair. He was nearly cradling her body with how she had maneuvered her body. “I’m still here James. Let me please you.”

The kiss caught James by surprise. He had thought this moment through in his head a thousand times while he had waited for her to arrive, but none of them this had been what he imagined she would do. Kiss him? Perhaps, but not with such passion. This was better than the graduation ball kiss he had dreamed of. She is a hooker, James, he had to remind himself. This is what she is trained to do: make people believe she loves them. But still, why were her pussy so wet, easily allowing his two fingers to slide in and out of it? And she hadn't even mentioned the fact that there was no donation this time, no envelope with hundred dollar bills.

"Good girl." he said, patting her head with a big hand. His voice was almost fatherly. Indeed, with her sitting in his lap listening to his lessons and abiding to his judgment, getting her head patted when she did good, she almost looked like an overgrown daughter being lectured by her father. Were it not for the fact, off course, that she was willingly spreading her legs to let him play with her cunt.

While he continued to teasingly finger her clit and moving his fingers in and out of her like pistons he grabbed the top of her dress and pulled it down together with her bra, releasing her breasts. One by one he squeezed them firmly, but not violently as he had felt her up before. Twisting her left nipple between two fingers, rolling it to and fro while mirroring the movement with his other hand on her clit, he said: "But our last encounter must have been nothing unusual for you. Back in high school, when you were only a whore in the metaphorical sense and not yet the literal, wasn't that what the captain in the football team, and the rest of them too for that matter, used to do with you?" His pinch on her two sensitive buds got harder now, bordering on the painful. "Or did you just want them to take you like that, but none of them delivered? Was that why you had to spread your legs for so many, in search for someone who could give you what you needed?"

He was buying her act. Good. All the harder for him to handle when she made her move. It was shocking when he pulled her dress down along with her bra, but there was one thing she found comfort in. He had not ripped it. She could still pull it up once she was free of him. That’s right. Free from you and your sick mind. Free from you and your museum of a house. A showplace for your twisted thoughts and plans. Free from your careful manipulation of my swollen clit. Free from this marvelous fucking your digits are giving me. TESSA! GET A GRIP! You can NOT like this. NO! Yet, she found her pussy wetter still, and she was edging closer to cumming all over him. He’ll probably be mad if I do without his permission though. Think of something, anything, that won’t get you aroused. That night! Yeah. That night in his hotel room. The toilet brush fucking the same pussy his fingers are now in. She closed her eyes allowing the memory to not torment her but instead wrap her body in a warm cocoon. The warmth spreading quickly through her. Each thrust of the toilet brush jabbing at her my sensitive inner walls and finally her womb. The soaring heights of pain she felt as he broke through her cervix brought her back to his lap as her eyes opened. Fuck! I’m about to cum! No! I can’t do this! Her nipples bordered aching as he had only just begun, what she thought, was his torture for the evening.

His words drew a forced smile on her, and an adverse effect he may not have planned on, she was no longer on the verge of cumming. He had taken her mind from unbridled lust to barely contained rage. “No James. They never did anything of the sort with me. You were the first. Imagine that. I get to tell you that you were my first. Sounds a bit odd. Don’t you think?” She was very aware of the all too familiar tone leaking back into her throat and words. Before he could respond, she slid from his lap, never letting her hands leave his body to simply reassure him and keep him in place, and made her way around to his shoulders. “Someone to give me what I need James? Is that what you thought you did? My. My. My. Such a tense man, and certainly you don’t need to concern yourself with the needs of a……” the words were almost impossible for her to say. Say it Tessa. Say it! “Whore…….like myself. Let me instead take care of you. That’s my job after all isn’t it? I would never come to your job telling you how to do it. So let me take care of you.” Her fingers kneading into the tight muscles of his shoulders. Her eyes kept looking at the door. Behind the chair, behind his back, away from his prying eyes, she gripped the floor with her now bare feet. She was judging for traction. My feet are dry. The floor is dry. I can make a run for it. She took one last look in the glass at her reflection, took a deep breath, and bolted for the door. Her bare feet slamming into the marble floor. The slapping noise filled the huge open space. She was making her break for it. She rounded where the art work hung, and kept going. The door was within her sight. Her hand outstretched she was ready to grab it as it came closer and closer

This girl went like clockwork. Touch her pussy and juices would come flowing. None of the romantic partners who had had the dubious pleasure of sharing a night of fumbling and shortcomings with him had reacted anything like this to his touch. He had remained a virgin throughout high school, and it was not until the second year of his MBA program at Harvard he had finally met someone who if not loved him at least tolerated his presence. Their relationship had been based more on mutual exchange of services than love. Lily did not want to be alone, so he saved her from the fear of solitude and abandonment that plagued her. In exchange she let him explore the female body without requirements for him to please her, playing along silently but with her damp pussy betraying her act every night. She did not even complain, not even mention it or ask, when he in the heat of the moment, at the peak of orgasm, called her Tess.

He had dumped her when he graduated and moved to New York, wanting to start his new life fresh without any luggage from the past. Now that he thought of her, while Tess was skillfully massaging his tense shoulders, he realized for the first time that even though she was the one who had cried her eyes out and sent all those pathetic letters, she was actually lucky to have gotten away from him, even if she would never know or understand that herself.

Get away from him... Why did she lift her hands from his shoulders? He had for once been enjoying her skills! The sound of bare foots sprinting ovwe the floor was all the explanation he needed. She was making a run for it, just as he had suggested. Cursing himself for having let her surprise him like that, he still had the composure to wait for five seconds before he got up from the chair - it would be more fun if she had a fair chance. Then he got up, but did not run, he just walked with long, fast determined steps. His legs was longer than hers, and he did not want to waste any energy or break a sweat on this pathetic attempt at an escape.

He caught up with her while she was desperately fiddling with the look on the big double oak door. Putting an arm around her waist to keep her from getting away he pressed his crotch against her bum as if he wanted to remind her of the stiff gift she had not yet received. "You have to turn it the other way." he said in a cold, matter-of-factly voice. Illustrating it with his free hand, he turned the lock the other way and then opened the door, giving her a peak at the rainy freedom outside that she had been running for but holding her waist so tightly in place pressed to his erection that she had no chance of tasting it. Slowly he closed the door again, letting the sliver of hope that the gravel path to the pompous cast iron gates represented disappear from sight.

"All those boys who fucked you ever so gently while you begged them to ravage you must have left you with an unquenchable thirst for being savaged, since you practically keep begging me to hurt you." He put two hands on the top of her dress, and with a snatch he tore the front open until the whole creation came of her like a robe. A lady shouldn't wear the same dress to a party twice anyway, he thought as he tossed what was now not much more than a piece of cloth to the side.

With rough hands he spun her around so she faced him. "But I understand why you are doing this, it is all to obvious." The playful and amused look was gone from his face now, and instead the disgust shone from his eyes now. "I felt how wet you are, both now and back at the hotel. I know you like it, I know you want it, I know you need it. Your body betrays your secret, Tess." Without warning, he spat a large glob right on her forehead, the warm saliva running down her face along the ridge of her nose. "It's disgusting, but it's true. You want me to punish you, ain't that so?" His hands were at her sides again, thick fingers squeezing into her body just under her ribs. "Because after all these years as a whore you are so used to being abused and degraded that there simply is no way for you to cum if a man don't have his way with you first. Am I not right?" His fingers squeezed her harder as he spat out the last question shouting, demanding an answer.

She reached the doors shocked that she had not been caught already expecting to simply jerk the door open and escape into the night. She could pull her dress back covering her body once she was far away from him and his house of hell. Her hands griped the doorknob firmly, and she gripped with such force her shoulder popped. Nothing. Nothing! How can that be? He said it was open! Open, but not unlocked! Bastard! False hope. He set me up. He knew I would run for it if I thought the damn door was unlocked. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! She mentally bashed herself for her own ignorance as her hands made a feeble attempt at working the lock. She was shaking so, and her tears were more than threatening her blue eyes at this point. The lock was becoming blurred, and her fingers could barely grasp it. “Damn it!” Her frustration taking over couple with her nervous disposition, and Tessa was doomed to fail.

Her failure was inevitable and marked by his firm grip around her waist. All her hope sank deep to the recesses of oblivion. Her hands ceased, and her arms fell limp in front of her as he showed her the error of her ways. The door opened allowing a rush of cool air, the smell of rain, and the sweet taste of freedom she had not managed to obtain. She didn’t even attempt to struggle against him. She knew this grip well. She knew this feeling well. Her heart slowly breaking as he closed the door and the unbelievable dread filled what was left.

You’re wrong! I wasn’t left for a thirst for anything! I’m not asking you to hurt me you sick….She cried out in shock as he tore her gown away from her body without so much as a warning. Her body exposed to him now, she knew her fate would not be a pleasant one. What do you have in mind this time? What torture do you have planned? Quick Tessa. Think. Think! The game. The fucking game you fucked up just now. You were doing so well. He was being good to you. You have to get back into his good graces somehow. Do something! Don’t’ just stand her silent like a moron! Her heart was pounding in her chest. She couldn’t fathom anything to say nor does that would change what seemed already in motion.

She saw the room a blur before her eyes only for her gaze to focus on him. He had changed. His demeanor was vastly different, and the feeling of utter despair rose up as strongly, if not more so, than the dread that had already taken up residency within her. She narrowed her eyes at him, his words. He had noticed it. The wetness that seemed to saturate between my legs, but he thinks it’s because I enjoyed it? You could not be further from the truth! His spit hitting her in the face and running down her nose took her by surprise. It shouldn’t have really as he had done the exact same thing at the hotel that night. She reached up with a trembling hand to wipe it away as her eyes never left him. The pressure just below her ribs grew making it harder for her to breathe. She felt like he was about to break the bones that were just above his grip. Out of reach slightly, but still they felt the pressure as much as she did, or so it seemed. Her breaths became short, labored as she listened to him rant, demanding answers no less to the most ridiculous questions she had ever heard. The most asinine accusations to ever be uttered by anyone were spewing from his mouth, and they proved to be too much. Tessa lost her control and her composure. “You’re wrong! I don’t like it! No one in their right mind would! If you would stop and think about that, you would know I’m right! I don’t want you punishing me, touching me, hurting me! NO! I can cum without all this! Give me a chance to show you. Take me to your bed and fuck me James. I’ll cum so good for you all over your cock.” It wasn’t a ploy. Tessa meant every word she spoke. In fact, now she viewed James and his preposterous words as a challenge. One she was more than happy to take on.

"Oh, Tess." he sighed melodramatically. "Take you to my bed and fuck you?" He chuckled self-righteously. "That was exactly the fate you tried to run away from. Clearly that was not what you wanted." He raised his right hand to the level of her face, as if he was about to hit her, but instead he just softly brushed a lock of blonde hair away from her face. "And you must be smart enough to understand that you are never going to get away from me, even or perhaps particularly a whore of your standing should understand that. So that leaves us with the only logical conclusion: you want me to punish you."

With those words he lifted her up over his shoulder like if she was nothing but a bag of potatoes. Her head was hanging down along his back, while her legs were bent down on his front side and held in place by a strong hand. From that weird angle she got to watch her escape path over the marble floor in reverse. "I'm sorry I have to do this." he said as they entered the living room. "I don't want to hurt you, but if I did not you might forget who you are."

He stopped in front of the leather arm chair they had sat down in earlier, right in front of the glass table, a piece of designer furniture from Italy. James took a deep breath, as if he had to brace himself for what he was about to do, and then he grabbed her by her sides with both hands and threw her down on the table like a porter would with his bags after a long and hard days work. The instant her body hit the glass it shattered with an high pitch crack into thousands and thousands of sharp shards, and when she hit the stone floor hard they pierced her soft and smooth skin. Most of the shards were small, their sting more like needles, but some were big. One piece right under her right shoulder blade sank so deep into her flesh that it was tearing on her bone and in her left buttock a sizable piece of glass had torn up a long wound big enough for the blood to come flooding out. Impaled like a failed fakir on his bed of nails she lay there on the floor beneath his feet, and when he looked down at his creation his smile was filled with satisfaction. "This is your bed, whore, because this is the only bed you deserve."

Getting ready to engage in an act that could hardly be called love making he slowly removed his suit and tie, neatly hanging them over the arm chair. Then he got down on his knees between her legs that he forcibly pushed apart and pulled his fly down. Reaching in there he pulled out his already erect cock. When he leaned down over her he put one hand on each side of her head in the glass, but he did not even flinch as the pieces pierced the skin of his palms. It was a small price to pay for this beautiful moment.

Inhaling her scent he kissed her neck, sucking on it to mark it with bruises and, as the arousal made his breath more erratic, nibblingly biting her skin like a playing wolf cub, leaving red tooth marks. "Do you think you will be able to orgasm in this bed?" he whispered into her ear between his heavy breaths. His cock was resting on top of her belly, as if to show just how far inside her body it would reach when he decided to insert it. "You really should. It will make the pain more bearable for you."

She shook her head at him. “You said it was open,” she whispered to him. I had it easy. I was going to get what I wanted. Why did I have to go and screw it up? It was a trap! “You tricked me.” She flinched as he brought his strong hand to her face certain he was about to smack her or worse. Her tears flowed, as her lips were tight holding in her sobs. No! Before she could stop herself, in her panicked state, the words burst from her trembling lips. “NO! You don’t have to hurt me! Please James!”

She screamed loudly, begging and pleading with him as he made his move hoisting her in the air and over his shoulder. Her hands pulling on his shirt much like a child pulls on an adult’s pants to get their attention. Handfuls of his shirt in her grasp as she cries out to him. “James! No! Please! Stop! Give me one more chance! I can get it right! I won’t let you down! I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry!” His arm held her legs securely in place stopping her from kicking. The marble floor looming just beneath her as the wall created the illusion the she was being sucked into a vortex of some kind. “Then don’t James! Oh please don’t! I’m begging you! Please!” Her words kept coming clearly wrought with self preservation. “James! I’m sorry! I won’t….”

Her words halted in beautiful silence as her body shattered through the glass table. The pain was instant, constant, and over most of her body as the tiny glass pieces melded to her body, pricking her skin. It was the sensation of a thousand needles penetrating her skin in unison. Two stabbing pains remained more prevalent though. A burning feeling. A dull ache. In two places on her body. Her shoulder felt oddly strange to her amid the agony. She tried to move her arm, but there was only a greater, scorching terror that ripped through her shoulder and part of her back. She didn’t even scream as the sensations quickly returned to a constant throb. Her ass almost burned as well, for a moment, before an overwhelming warm feeling spread through her. She breathed out slowly, deeply as she looked up at the vaulted ceilings that now seemed a million miles away. Her mind becoming a fleeting mass of memories and thoughts as blur seemed to draw her sight into an almost tunnel vision. Her first thoughts were strangely how clean his ceilings were. Then she saw her family once more. Even her mother painted her thoughts. Then there was daddy. A weak smile on her lips. Finally her sister came to mind. This is it. My life is flashing before my eyes. I truly am going to die. It wasn’t water that did me in. No. James just used blunt force. I’ll die here on the bed of pain and humiliation. His victim in his game. I failed. I didn’t play it well enough. “I’m….sorry….James.” The words as slow as the very breaths she was taking. Her blood spilling out to the floor from her wounds. “Yes….James. My….bed.” She didn’t care anymore that he was calling her a whore. He would always only see what he wanted, what made him feel better to think of her as, and that was clearly a whore. So what if she was one. She had to become one due to her bad choices, but at least, at the end of the day, she was not a murderer.

He was approaching between her legs. She felt him push her apart, spreading her legs as he came between her. The pain in her ass shooting down her leg and up her spin on one side caused her to wince and inhale sharply. She shook her head back and forth as he advanced up her body. Unable to speak, shock was setting in. Her pain that once raked her body was slowly becoming a numb. She relaxed further into the glass, her body settling imbedding every shard, every sliver of glass deeper into her skin. She didn’t feel it though. In fact her muscles were slightly beginning to shake.

Her eyes meet his, and she was motionless. He honestly wants to know if I can cum like this. I can’t feel….hardly anything really. It’s a sweet and glorious relief. The horror you have thrust upon me, inflicted on me, and I can’t….feel. There’s nothing James. Nothing. No pain. No warmth. It’s cold. I can’t feel your breath. I can’t feel your body against mine. As he leaned into her, his cock touching her body, pressing into it, her shoulder settled even more so to the shard impaling her. The pain awakened anew. It was strong through her body for a fleeting moment before it evaporated like smoke. Enigmatic and gone from time, space, and even for her sake, her memory. If she could remember that pain exactly for the rest of her life, it would drive her mad. That why is nature, our bodies, they have a way of letting the mind let go of what would be too much to bear. This was one of those memories for her. This, her mind, would allow her to forget. I don’t feel your mouth James. I don’t feel..anything. It’s..gone. I’m gone. Nothing remains but the whore you so desperately want to fuck and tear down. I only exist in that capacity for you James. The pain James, that you speak of, this bearable pain, does not exist. It is gone.

Groaning he breathed out, his warm breath against the cold skin on her throat. Just the sight of her exposed body under him, squirming in the pain that he had inflicted on it, was enough to make his hard penis throb with every heartbeat. Kissing her throat a last time, his tongue meandered south where it found her breasts already pulled out of the whorish pink and black bra. Kissing her skin passionately he buried his face between them, while he pushed her soft pair together with the palm of his hands. With blood seeping out from the wounds the glass had left on them he left a pair of smeared out blood red hand prints on her breasts, but he was to caught up in the moment to care.

While his dry lips enclosed her left nipple, eagerly sucking on it like a hungry baby, his right hand ran down the side of her body, his fingers just gently grazing her smooth skin. When they reached her leg, they slowly swirled around it to push her legs further open while his teeth at the same time clamped down on her nipple, in what was just a bit to hard to be a playful lovers bite. As he went on to lick fervently in close circles around her pink nipple his mouth was filled with a mix of the salty taste of her sweat and the iron taste of his own blood.

Continuing downwards he kissed his way to her navel, his left hand following along on the way down, painting a red line of blood over her belly like the first stroke of the artists brush on a blank canvas. After having exploratively sunk his tongue into her navel and kissed it over and over again he continued down the road to his obvious goal. Stopping his string of kisses right above her panties, he instead started to kiss the inside of her thighs, licking along them towards her cave but always stopping just before he reached it.

With his hands resting on her thighs, leaving another pair of red hand prints after them, he looked up from between her legs at her, barely being able to see her face between the hills her breasts formed. "The pleasure I give you will be the only escape from the pain you will get." he informed her in a dry voice, and then bent down to tear her panties apart with the help of his teeth, throwing them to the side. "The more you arouse me, the more your body and your words egg me on, the more pleasure I will give you. The more relief from the pain you will get. Keep that in mind."

With those words he bent his head down, the tip of his tongue parting her inner labia as he licked up her slit and drenched her clit in saliva as his tongue lapped over it a few times. Switching to sucking on her pussy lips, stretching them as he greedily took them into his mouth, he gave her a few seconds respite from the intense stimulation. But he did not leave his target for long - soon his tongue was back on her bud licking it in frenzy like a starved cat on a plate of milk.

In one go he easily shoved four fingers into her cunt in a hard slam, forcing them inside her as deep as physically possible. Switching to sucking on her clit, the pressure from his lips and the heavy suction pushing the sensitive nob out of its hood, he started to finger fuck her in the same fast, pulsating rhythm as he sucked on her clit. As the taste of her juices grew stronger and stronger in his mouth he sunk deeper and deeper into a trance like state where all there was was his mind and her body, connected by fate and his mouth. Without knowing it he started to bite on her every time he rammed his fingers into her pussy, his teeth sinking deeper and deeper into her tender flesh every time he plunged his digits into her warm hole.

His breath sent shivers down her spine. Her body twitched slightly sending tremors of pain racing along her nerves. Her legs, her spine, even her arms felt the dull ache that seemed to almost fade into a numbing sensation as the wave neared its crest as resided. She swallowed more of an instinct really, as she felt his lips touching her skin. He was trailing down her body, his touch, his tongue, his lips, all revolting, but she was powerless to hinder him. Her mind ever so slowly began to focus just a bit. She became aware of his hands pressing her breasts together while his face was lodged between them. Oh you sick bastard. Why can’t you smoother yourself there? She attempted to look down at him, but the shard penetrating below her shoulder blade quickly made its presence known halting her efforts. The dull ache nearly instantly replaced by an intense burning. Tessa had burned her hand once when she was a little girl in the kitchen. Nothing compared to that burn for years. Until now. The skin flamed as if it would be peeling from her body at any moment. She parted her lips drawing in a slow, deep breath.

Her nipple bringing her focus back once more. Searing, stabbing pain as his teeth latched on. Certain he had drawn blood, she moaned softly. Her body jerking at the hint of any movement on her part to gaze down and see exactly what he was doing. The nerves in her body felt like they were firing, almost snapping like rubber bands each time she tried to move. The shard in her back was clearly having an effect she was sure he had not planned on. Does this idiot even know it’s there? He hasn’t checked. I could be bleeding out, and he wouldn’t even know it. His treatment of her nipples drew another moan from her mouth, as her head relaxed further into the smaller bits of glass. She heard them crunch under her weight. An eerie sound as she knew her hair would have a red tinge to it when she was finally moved.

Her groans only grew louder as his tongue dipped into her navel. She wanted to see him, though she wasn’t exactly sure why. I want to look at you James. Fuck! You’re a sick bastard, but I want to see you. I want to watch you face as your tongue licks at my belly button. I want to run my fingers through your hair. Knowing the pain it would cause, still she tried to move her right arm only to torture her own body with little success on her part. Her arm flailed a bit before landing with a thud embedding more shivers into her arm. Fresh pain. A constant reminder of where, and in this case who, she was. I am a whore. An abused whore, but never the less, a whore, and I am in pain. She protested as he stopped just shy of her sex. The panties seem to be some sort of barrier he couldn’t, or wouldn’t cross. Why am I whimpering? Why do I want him to keep going? He fucking hurt me! This fucking hurts! Get a grip Tessa! You’re on a damn glass table that he threw you through, and all I can think of is how good his tongue feels. Oh fuck James. Don’t stop. Please. Her hips moved slightly, and thought he pain shot up her back to her neck, she moved them again. She wasn’t working with it. She was working against it, and she kept on doing so.

She cried out softly as he tore her panties from her body. The visible barrier that had stopped him in his path gone now, she found herself hoping, willing him to keep going. Yes James, she thought. I will be a good girl for you. She moved her body slightly on her bed of glass. The scratching sounds against the marble an audible reminder of exactly what her body rested upon. She couldn’t stop from writhing beneath him. The pain growing in rushing in, flooding her body once more. Tessa felt everything at once. All of it. Again. He suckled her most private parts, and a warm smile plastered across her face. It wasn’t the simple act of being licked, sucked, or touched. No. It was because it was him. In her mind, she saw him. His face, his eyes, his hair, his lips, she saw the perfect, clear image of him. The pain was something she was more than aware of was his doing. He has done this to me, and he is granting me this sweet pleasure. She tried to wrap her head around that as well as the feeling taking over her body. Her clit causing her body to appear to spasm as his rough tongue lapped across it.

Her voice loud as she screamed out louder than she had since before he put her through the table. It wasn’t even words. No sentences. Just a sound of pure pleasure. Pure lust. Raw, unadulterated desire. Wanting to be fucked. Loving his touch. Needing it. Tessa had never felt this way with a client before. Of course, she never had one treat her this way either. Don’t stop James. Oh please don’t stop. The pain remained, but now it was laced with elation. Her mind begging him, her body trying to pull more from him, and her lips finally giving in. “Don’t….stop….James. “ Her hips grinding despite the ache filling her body. Her hands pressed down firmly into the glass piercing her skin. She scratched at the marble floor wanting to bring her body closer to his fingers, his mouth. Even as he bit down on her clit, her mouth betrayed her as much as her wet pussy did. “I’m..a..whore..James. Filthy..failure..dirty..liar..whore..bitch..slut..” the words just kept coming with each thrust of his fingers, with each bite from his teeth. The perfect mix of pain and pleasure was overtaking her body and her mind.

Her moans were so convincing. He had never been with a lover that expressed her feelings in such a primal way as she did. Well, to be honest, he had never awoken any primal feelings in any of his so called lovers before. Lily had never cared to pretend, and the few times she did she was no more convincing than a shy porn actress who did not manage to hide her disgust for her own job. The string of girls he had met through dating sites, a tool much more useful when you could pick the top income bracket and then prove it by the choice of restaurant for the first date, had often been easy to turn over but none of them had moaned like this from the touch of his lips, only at the sight of his wallet. They were the reasons he had first ventured onto an escort service homepage that basically offered the same awkward sex devoid of all intimacy, but with less hassle and a much more reasonable price tag.

And now this girl, this whore of his dreams, trembled under his touch as an aspen leaf caught in storm winds. Had she awoken something inside him that had not been there before? Yes, clearly a desire to hurt and inflict pain, to torture and torment, but had she awoken something more? No, James. She is a professional actress, skilled in the deceitful art of seduction. She has already fooled you once with her act, don't let her fool you twice. There was still one gift she had not given him, the ultimate white flag of defeat to his touch that her mendacious mind would not be able to produce without her body truly submitting to him first.

But still, she was trying hard to please him, so she deserved some kind of reward. In essence, wasn't this what being a good whore really meant - to pretend you enjoy it no matter what? Easing up on the gnawing bites, his tongue started to whisk her bud in a feverous dance, pausing only to occasionally suck on her pussy lips instead, kiss her thighs or squeezing her clit between his sharp teeth instead.

After having had all the pussy he could wish for as appetizer, it was time for him to consume the main course. Giving her dripping wet slit a last kiss goodbye, he raised his body over her pale figure, white from all the blood it had been bereft of, and then met her lips in a deep kiss, his tongue, coated in her juices, exploring every corner of her mouth. He ensnared his fingers in her hair, turning her blonde curls red with blood. As he let go of the kiss, lingering on her lower lip sucking on it like it was the one branch he had to hang onto or he would fall into the pits of hell, he slowly pushed his hard cock into her warm body. The deeper his shaft sunk into her, the further his teeth pushed into her lip, but the moment his full length had stretched her pussy to its extreme he let go of it with a pop.

As he settled into a slow but steady rhythm he rested his weight on her body, and every time he thrust into her the sharp shard that the fall through the table had lodged into her shoulder wiggled inside her flesh, the cutting edge starting to dig a groove in her shoulder blade, while the piece that had pierced the delicate skin of her bottom sank deeper into her behind. As the soaring sensation her tight pussy clamping on his cock sent through his body made his blood rush he slammed harder and deeper into her. The impact dragged her body over the marble floor, besprent with glass like the night sky with stars, and the thousand little pieces was scraped along her once so smooth skin.

"The pleasure. I know you can feel it. Focus on the pleasure, forget the pain. They are two wolfs fighting inside you. Let one kill the other." he gasped into her ear between moaning breaths.

A respite. His teeth easing and his tongue taking their place. A soft smile played on her lips. James truly was a talented man. In another time, another circumstance, perhaps this would have been vastly different. Here? On this bed of glass? Things were as they were. Tragic, painful, and full of despair. Her mind worked erratically to grasp the pleasure coursing through her pelvis now. A warmth spreading, an orgasm pending, she wanted to relent, to release, and to give in to him. Her body torn between the two very conflicting feelings taking over her body.

Slowly the thought crept into her mind that she must be doing something right for him to give her such indulgence. Her mouth dry as her lips had been parted; she kept spewing the string of words that she knew he wanted to hear. “Whore….bitch….slut….I..deserve..this..James.” What? Did I just say that? Yes I did. I just told him I deserve this! Nobody deserves this! He’s a madman that should have his own white, padded room! Nurses could come in and give him his meds, and maybe he would use his tongue along their wet pussy to make them cum. Stop it Tessa! He fucking hurt you before he touched your clit better than any man has ever done before. Her thoughts a tangled web of irrational thoughts. Her ass squirming under his manipulations, his working, his exquisite treatment of her clit and pussy pressing the bits of hell further into her already wounded skin. She could hear the chilling sound of the glass on the marble floor still, and yet she could not stop.

His body slithered up to her, his face close to her own. His mouth captured her own in a kiss she did not fight. There was no protest. In fact, she closed her eyes giving herself over further still to him. Her clit aching for more, for some kind of bittersweet release to propel her body into a state of bliss the likes of which she had never experienced before. I want you James. I want this. NO! I do not want this! I want to be fucked, but not like this! Damn it Tessa! Get a grip! Play the game. Come on! The truth was, the game had ended. Not just when he threw her through the table, but in fact, in all actuality, the game never even started. From the moment she stepped into the cab to come to his home, there was no game. It was her coming right into his hands, his world, and now she was caught. She didn’t really feel too much as he gripped her hair. It was the sound really that caught her attention. The glass against the floor was the sound that seemed to reach through her body. It wasn’t just a physical pain anymore. It touched her mind.

She drew a deep, long breath as his cock sliced into her warm, wet, waiting pussy. Her eyes closing again, she knew it would not take her long. His teeth sinking deeper into her lip, coupled with this intense feeling of elation was yet another constant battle waged on her emotions and body. Her pussy stretched around him, swallowing him. She could feel every inch of him throbbing inside her, and her own body tensed. She was taking him. All of him. His body to her own, his thrusts steady, she groaned out calling his name. “James!” At first she simply couldn’t help it. It was all genuine. He was sending closer to the edge, and she would gladly take the tumble with him, for him, wanting to please him. Then it happened. Oh fuck! Her mind felt nearly ripped apart as the agony began to desiccate through her shoulder and down her back. Her screams became one of excruciating torment. Every powerful slam of his hips to her body only further lacerated and forced the shard chiseling into her bone. It felt as if were about to crack from the force and how much it had clearly been weakened. Tiny pieces littered her skin sinking in with each upshot from his body. Fuck James! You have to….stop. Even her own thoughts seemed to slow along with time itself. She looked around as much as her eyes could. The room, the very air within it, all seemed to nearly halt. His cocking filling her tight, wanting pussy brought her back from her reverie. “James,” her voice but a whisper now. She was certain the shard was about to burst through her chest. His words though. Those warm, inviting words. That was it really. That was all it took. Her eyes opened, and her lips parted wider. NO, her mind screamed at her! Not this! Not here! Not with him! Not ever! Her legs tightened around him. Despite the burning, dull, ache in her ass and leg, with great force she pressed both her legs into his body as her clit and pussy exploded around his cock. Unable to arch her back, she still purred to him, “I’m..cumming..James.” He didn’t need her to tell her. It was that obvious. His cock now able to slide with more ease than before. She was slick, wet, as her juices dripped down her ass. Her body a writhing mess beneath him against his own body, against the floor, against the glass that was lacerating her without end. She gave in to him and her own urges, and her body betrayed her thoughts and will.

Yes, you deserve this, Tess, he thought. Not only was she making him believe those absurd words, but as her intensely gasping moans pushed him deeper into pleasure filled realm of sexual oblivion he started to believe that she believed them, a proposition that would be even more absurd were it not for that sweet smile on her face and her dreamlike closed eyes, something only a lucky girl approaching the seventh heaven would be able to produce.

His pace increasing now, he was fucking her with the same passion he had that night in his hotel room back in Sterling, when she had been unconscious from her wet torment. But now the limp fuckdoll had awakened and turned into a breathing, moaning, screaming, begging girl. Like the magicians of the fables he had breathed life into this clay golem, turning her innate flesh into the trembling warm body beneath him. Or was he doktor Frankenstein, and the creature under him his monster? That unpleasant train of thought was cut off by her loud announcement - she was cumming.

The tense muscles of her vagina massaged his cock as if her body wanted nothing but to milk the semen out of him, but he had no intention of letting her off the hook that easily. He was not done with her, he would not give her a drip. Helped by her legs that tightly embraced his hips he continued to thrust into her spasming hole, even faster, even harder, even deeper. With her juices flowing like a waterfall and her voice nothing but a lost murmur he knew there was no way she could fake this. She was the whore she had said she was, that he had told her he would treat her like.

Seeing her let go of all reason and giving in to her raging libido he felt surprisingly clear in his head. "You tore me down back in high school." he said with a voice whose calmness stood out in stark contrast to the furious thrusts of his hips. "But you never built something new up. All that I am today, I build from the ruins you left me in." His right hand had found its way back to her breast now, roughly squeezing them, feeling them up with force but no tender finesse. He sat up on his knees, not letting his wet but stiff dick slide out of her slippery slit, not missing a beat of the never ending pounding he was making her endure. With her slender legs along his chest, one on each side of his head, pressed against his sweat soaked white shirt, he almost bent her double as he leaned forward to be able to use the weight of his body to meld his body with hers.

"But if there is something I have learned from my job, then it is that you should never tear something down without building something brave and new up to replace it." His fingers stopped smearing out the almost dried blood on her breasts in new patterns, and instead found her soar clitoris between her already stretched apart petals. "I have broken you down, Tess, but I am not like you. I will build something new, something far superior of what you were." He gazed down into her eyes from between her legs, his eyes like bottomless lakes, frozen despite the heat of the moment. His fingers were randomly switching between sensuously caressing her pearl and twisting it, pinching it hard, never letting her know in advance when the pleasure would instantly turn to pain. "This bed of glass is the death bed of the old Tessa Arcadia but it is also the bed where someone, something, new is conceived. The pain you feel is nothing but your own birth pains."

"This is where my new fucktoy is born. A mindless slut in the body of a woman, a barbie doll dreaming of nothing but my cum, a creature whose only value is the pleasure she brings me. That is all you are now." His fingers were squeezing her clit like if he was trying to pop it, pinching it hard on every syllable he spoke while he thrust the full length of his cock into her over and over again, as if he was trying to hammer the realization into her body and mind.

His words slowly began to drown out. Her body fighting to remain focused and conscious. The room began to seem smudged. Yeah. Smudged. It seemed like a perfect words. Time was slowing down even more so for her. Every sound, every sight, every feeling she had seemed altered. “Tore me down back in high school….” She nodded as much as she could. “Sorry….James.” It was all she could say. Her body now coming down from her heightened pleasures, numbness began to set in once more. Her reprieve for the depths of physical suffering she had been cast through. “Ruins you left me in….” The sharp pain returned with a vengeance as he grabbed her breast. Is he trying to rip it clear of my body? Mother fuck! Her mind jolted back to this place, this time that she so desperately wanted to get away from. It’s not fair! Every time I drift, find some comfort, you bring me back. Why? She knew why. He wanted her to suffer. This man, this modern day Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde was as broken and damaged as they came. He had two sides just like a quarter, and with him, she never was sure which side she would get. He might seem calm one moment, and then soon enough I’m through a fucking table!

She felt his body give away from her, but even found a way to make his return even worse than it was before. As he bent down over her, with her legs across him, the glass shard only sank even deeper into her already torn and mutilated flesh. She cried out in sheer pain. There was no pleasure. She could feel the blood spilling from body warming her back. It squished up to her neck, and as her body moved with his thrusts, she could hear its gurgling sounds against her skin and the marble floor. Her face paled further as everything around her began to swirl and seem to fade slightly. Shit. I’m..dying. I can’t..I can’t focus. J-James. I’m..I’m dying. Let me..die. Fuck me..until I..die. She didn’t even try to dispute her own feelings even though she was repulsed by the thought of him fucking her until her last breath was drawn. She did not feel any blood seeping from her body at her ass. Does he even know about the shard there? Does he see it? Does he feel it? Does he..Her mind drifting not even able to finish a thought. Her eyes flutter as she gazes up to him. Build..Something..new? There won’t..be anything..left. Her throat twitched, slightly, as she was trying to swallow and take a breath. Everything seemed so labored to her. A struggle. Her head resting in now a pool of her own blood around her that must look like some sort of an outline around her once blonde hair; she could only croon as he attacked her clit. His methods varied, but the pain as always considerably worse each time he would seem to be trying to rip her tender bud from her body. Take it..James. Take it..off..if that’s..what..you’re trying..to do. Her chest settled as her back relaxed. Finally the coldness of the marble reached her. Perhaps she was the one cold. She wasn’t sure. Did it really matter? I’m dying. The words began to repeat over and over in her mind while he prattled on and on about building her up and this being the bed of her death. He was right. Just how right he was Tessa wasn’t sure of. Darkness began to creep in, and she knew she was about to go. One word played on her lips as the ever coldness closed around her squeezing the very life from her body. It was blasting in her mind, to the point it was all she heard. Not even the words from James, not even his breathing, made it to her ears. She inhaled and exhaled breathing out the single word effortlessly. “Waltz.”

Her body came down from its spectacular high just as quick as it had soared up there. But that did not stop James, he just kept fucking the life force out of the bag of flesh beneath him, even as its body temperature slowly started to drop and her eyes took on a glassy look. But then, suddenly, she said the word and he stopped just as he was about to ram his cock into her yet another time, as if it had been their secret safe word and this torture scene nothing but a make belief roleplay that she could stop at any time. His dick dropped out of her wet pussy where the head had rested, and he rose up from the floor.

As he looked down at his conquest it stuck him what a beautiful scene he had created. An aura of red around her, but her body was white like a ghost, except for the lines and spots of blood red he had painted on her. Her skin was glistening with cold sweat in the dim light, and her ravaged pussy looked like it was covered in a layer of morning dew. I did this, I created this, I created her, he though as he found the remote control lying on the floor where it had been cast away when the table had crashed. Aiming it at her head, as if it was a gun with witch he would give her suffering body the shot of mercy, he pushed a single button and then the music filled the room, streaming out from his expensive surround system, as the orchestra slowly awoke.

He reached down and grabbed her hands so he could swing her to her feet just as the music took off. Her body was so unstable, he got the feeling that if he let go of her she would simply just collapse into the floor. When he put his hand on her shoulder, where a gentleman should keep it in a dance, he felt how wet and sticky her back was and when he pushed it tighter to her it felt like a knife stroke his palm. But that did not stop him, he happily let the shard of glass that was lodged there sink into his hand and unite their bodies.

As he felt her naked breasts push against his chest when she breathed, they left red marks on his sweat soaked white shirt. His erect cock was still sticking out from the open zipper of his black trousers, her juices dripping from it, the head just gently touching her belly. "Does this music turn you on now, slut?" he asked, and the next second he swayed her out into the dance. One, two, three, one, two, three, the beat of the music an ominous reminder of their past meeting.

He retracted. Why did he..stop? His dick is out of me. Sweet..relief. He’s getting..me..some help. She closed her eyes swallowing hard against her dry mouth and lips. Finally. James had seen the light as he did in the hotel room, and he was getting help. Tessa smile but only on the inside. She could hear the glass crunch beneath him as he stood up over her form. He’s going to the..phone. Call James. Dump my..body and call then. Nobody..has..to know. You can do it..In secret. Please.

The sound filled the room, and for a brief, fleeting moment, she wasn’t sure if it was all still in her head or not. I still..hear it. Think about..something else. Think about.. ceilings. His are so..high. So..clean. Think about..home. Cammie. Daddy. Think about..your old car. The music! I still..hear it. It’s..HERE! It’s REAL! Turn it off James! Please. Tears ran down towards her ears as she lay there on her back. The terror rising. He was living in that moment. James..you’re crazy. She shook her head from side to side as if she were trying to shake the music from her ears. Her eyes opening to see him standing there over her as if he had beaten her to oblivion. She was his tamed beast, and the brave trainer. Fuck..you..James. Her thoughts were the only means of conveying what she felt, and even they were a struggle to from within her own mind.

She was limp as he pulled her to her feet. Immense misery engulfed her body. Every shard, every tiny sliver of glass that had become impacted into her body was suddenly a burning inferno upon her skin. Shocks of utter agony ran uncontrollably, violently down her leg as she bared any weight what so ever upon it. Her back insanely on fire, as even her neck felt ferociously destroyed. Don’t..let..go..James. Tessa’s pain was only slightly eclipsed by her fear of crashing to the floor lest he release her from his grip. She would not even be able to attempt to brace herself if he did so. She imagined the marble cracking the bones in her face as she would end up a pile on the floor. The glass shard sinking so unbelievably further, deeper into her back as he pressed his palm to her. He wants..to dance? He has..to know. . no. He doesn’t..care. Her eyes slowly blinked as her dry lips were stuck together. She was breathing shallow through her nose as she starred in whatever direction her head was in. Without the strength, nor the drive to turn it, she was the whim of however he was holding her. There wasn’t a single point or place on her body that did not feel the overwhelming pain he had brought down on her.

His dick..is on..me. Sick..bastard. The music, strangely enough, was having an effect on her. While it raises her anxiety, she was also dripping. The waltz was becoming a symbol to her. One of fear. One of pain. One of pleasure. One, in short, of James. Everything around her began to fade once more, much like it had that night in the hotel room when he held her in the bath. The water over her face as she gazed at his face was the last sight she saw that night. This time she still saw his face. His face. He wasn’t ugly. She now saw him such a different light. “James,” she finally spoke to him drawing every bit of strength she had left. “I’m..sorry.” A pause that seemed an eternity. “Please,” she begged him. “Let me..die.” Her eyes looking at him for a moment before her glossy, blue eyes slowly began to roll back in her head. Her eyelids closing softly, slowly as he head lulled in his arms.

One, two, three. He was dragging her feet along to the rhythm of the music, her body to weak to support its own weight. Her bare soles brushed the red blood and the glittery shards out over the white marble as he swung them across the floor, the glass cracking under his shoes. The exhausted girls wish for death did not seem to chock or deter him, instead he just chuckled gently. "But didn't you listen?" he asked in a soft, comforting voice, like a father trying to convince his daughter there were no monsters in the dark. "Tess is already dead." Then her naked body grew limp and soft in his steady arms.

James stopped dancing, the music hollowly playing on without his participation. Looking at the mess his living room had turned into, just barely feeling the breathing of the body that rested against his, he started to question his own sanity. Why was he doing this? Had she not suffered enough? Why did he need her so much? Why not just bang any random hooker, heck, he could take two or three at a time? This one had not even given him his long awaited release, but still he felt more fulfilled than ever. Yeah, I might be crazy, he thought, but at least I will be a happy lunatic. She will make me a happy lunatic. And what did the mess matter? He could have his house maid take care of it, he payed her far to well for her to ask questions anyway.


"Her eyes are opening." The two men, both wearing white doctors coats, looked down at the completely nude girl lying on the blank and cold metal stretcher. The device that she had her wrists and ankles tied down to by four sets of police hand cuffs looked like the sort of thing one would expect to find in a morgue, not a hospital. There was no blood under her back anymore, no glass penetrating her skin, no dried blood smeared over her belly. Her injuries had been thoroughly taken care off, and the only trace that remained was a series of stitches along one of her shoulder blades and on the opposite butt cheek as well as numerous small patches and red marks that would perhaps later join the ranks of her features as scars.

The man that had just spoken was older than James, at whom his remarks had been intended. With his short, straggly grey hair leaving most of his head bald, displaying a wide variety of various liver spots and barnacles on his sweaty blank crown, he must have been at least sixty years old, perhaps seventy. His tired face hanged down in wilted rolls of fat, looking almost as it was about to slowly crawl off his skull. He was standing next to her metal bed, holding a black marker pen, that he seconds ago had used to sketch a dashed line on the underside of one of her exposed breasts, in his boney hand. James was standing at the end of her cart, casually resting his elbows on its handle, smiling as he eagerly observed her try to come to grips with the situation.

"Try to take slow, deep breaths." The old mans voice was scratchy as sand paper, but still it had the confident authority of a doctor behind it. He softly rested his almost ghost like hand on her forehead in an effort to calm her. "You have been given some quite powerful local anesthesia for your back, so you might feel a bit dizzy but I assure you that everything is all right now."

His slow and somber sermon was cut off by James disparaging voice. "Yes, everything will be all right." he repeated.

The first words she heard were muddled and unclear. Her brow furrowed as her eyes closed tightly before slowly peering open allowing the bright light to seep through. Slowly the lids parted, and this room began to focus for her. She tried to bring her hand up to rub her eyes, but she quickly found that to be impossible. She pulled her other wrists to find it restrained as well. What’s going on, she thought. This room looks like a hospital room. Why am I the one restrained? James! Her entire body jerked violently as she saw him sitting there with his Cheshire grin. Why isn’t he the one with the handcuffs? The fact that she was naked had totally escaped her.

She turned her head taking in the sight of the room as the old man’s voice caught her attention. “Wh-Where….” Her throat dry, she had to swallow several times before coherent sentences were even possible. “Wh-Where am I? What’s going on?” Her head was swimming as she looked at him, but she no longer felt any pain. She could turn her head, and she was even able to move her arm even if her range of motion was heavily restricted by the handcuffs in place now. No shit old man. Of course I’m going to take slow, deep breaths, but what the fuck is going on? Why is James here? You’re a doctor! You know what he did to me! She flinched as his hand touched her forehead. It was cold. Deathly cold. It filled her with an uneasy feeling. One she wanted to get away from, to run from. “Why am I here? What’s going on?”

She turned looking at James. First of all he was free. That should not be. Secondly, he didn’t seem worried in the slightest. In fact, he’s smiling. He’s up to something. He had interrupted the old man, and now she struggled to find the right words to say to him. “Why are you here? What are you doing in my room?” She was certain this was a hospital, but then she noticed no windows. Her eyes narrowed. “What’s going on?” Tessa’s anxiety began to grow again. This isn’t right. Something is wrong! James is up to something! He wouldn’t be smiling so much; he wouldn’t be so at ease if….this isn’t a hospital. This is something….worse. This old, decrepit man isn’t a doctor. Not a reputable one. This is..I’m..naked! “Cover me up! Oh please,” her eyes turning to the old man begging. “Please. A blanket. Something. Please. I’m begging you.” She began to sob uncontrollably as she yanked with all her strength on her wrists. She became cognizant of her ankles shackled as well. “What the hell is this,” she frantically screamed her question as she pulled and jerked her bonds. Her skin a crimson shade immediately as she worked to try and pull her wrists through the handcuffs. If I have to break my wrists to get them out of this I will. “What are you doing James?” Her voice dripping with her anger, panic, fear, and disgust. There were no traces of the pleasure she had felt before. Something else, something darker, was rising up instead. “What the fuck are you doing James?”