Chapter 4
"If only others could see you as I do."
He paced slowly as he spoke, eyes feasting on white flesh against the crimson sheets under her. The bed, a heavy four-poster with a canopy frame, was positioned at the very center of the room. At first sight it was an imposing structure, a fusion of dark carved woods and burnished metal in an old-world Mediterranean style. As he circled it, he studied her from every angle. Her thin wrists were stretched above her head, bound by two feet of cord secured to a grille of metal bars at the headboard. A tangle of brown hair framed her face, one eye hidden behind sweat-soaked strands that clung to her forehead and cheek. Her open lips waited, red and full, poised, ready at the next instant to beg him to finish her.
'Such wanton elegance,' he mused. 'Delicate shoulders carved from the purest alabaster...white breasts firm enough to mimic stone, yet soft enough to allow cherry-red nipples to quiver with each breath...the flat belly, showing a hint of muscle beneath it, as though carved by a master sculptor to compliment the sleek lines of her long waist...legs, white as glistening ivory, chiseled and slim, a thin layer of satin drawn tightly over stone cut and polished by hands of passion and grace.'
He could almost understand how a husband might prefer sharing such a treasure to losing her.
Small lamps mounted on the inside of each corner of the canopy bathed her body in blue-white light. The rest of the room was dark, and the bright light blinded her to his progress and exact position. Only during the few moments when he passed the foot of the bed could she be sure he remained in the room with her, his crisp, white shirt and golden cock emerging from the shadows just long enough to rewet her appetite for him.
Minutes later, he appeared beside her at the edge of the bed. He was naked, and the sudden sight of him sent a shudder of expectation through her. He held a small silver vial, just slightly taller than a thimble. Within it rested a thin needle topped with a single black pearl that seemed to hover above the lip of the container in the brilliant light. As he withdrew it, a drop of clear liquid fell from the sharp tip back into the waiting pool at the bottom of the miniature reservoir.
She shifted away from him as he brought the needle closer.
"Are you afraid?"
Her eyes told him before she could speak. "Yes," she whispered.
"I could untie you, set you free. Your husband is waiting."
She shook her head without hesitation, as if to chase away any chance of retreat. "No!" - another whisper, but one more forceful.
The tip of the needle arrived at her breast, stopping at the edge of the bright pink areola. With a quick stabbing motion, he tapped the point repeatedly over the sensitive skin. She gasped, then began to moan quietly as the needle danced over the engorged button of flesh. The pressure was never enough to draw blood, but sufficient to deliver minute quantities of the drug just below the surface of the tender nipple. He returned the needle to the shining vial, wetting the tip again and again, until both nipples lay wet and glistening in the harsh light.
He stopped, watching the circles surrounding her nipples darken to an angry red. She gasped as the tickle of the needle turned to burning twinges, finally subsiding to a constant, mild irritation that made her squirm and pull against her bonds.
And then he was gone. The darkness surrounding the bed simply swallowed him. She called out to him, begging him to return, to extinguish the fire that had started at her breasts and now crawled methodically through her, seizing her cunt with raging urgency. Her cries echoed through the room, unanswered. She cried out louder, slim legs now shifting to one side, then the other in a futile attempt at relief or freedom. The cord around her wrists tightened and held. Helpless and alone under the intense light, she felt as though she might suffocate in its heat, a heat that suddenly seemed to melt her womb, sending it flowing between her legs like a river of molten lead.
Suddenly, he was there, kneeling on the bed, naked, between her restless thighs. He watched her with piercing eyes, his golden chest shining, his erection thicker and harder than she had ever remembered it. Multicolored spikes of light surrounded him, flickering and wavering as they stretched from his bronzed skin into the shadows of the darkened room. His voice seemed distant and out of sync with the words that formed on his lips.
"My, my. Where has she gone? Mommy and Daddy's good little girl - a husband's faithful and loving wife - the proud day-virgin and reluctant concubine. What would they say if they could see your hungry little cunt yawning for my cock? What words could you possibly use to make them understand?"
"Please, Simon...I'm begging you..."
"Your answer is the price for my company tonight - and ultimately, the price for coaxing my cock inside you."
"Simon...I don't care...none of it matters...none of it..."
Her slim hips rose off the bed as she spoke, pumping uncontrollably in a futile attempt to somehow capture the swollen purple head that jutted and bobbed, still impossibly far away.
"Ahh, finally, the truth. None of it matters - it's empty baggage, a burden you needn't bear. Here, to be free of it is a simple choice - your choice - no one else's."
He moved closer, finally edging the head of his cock just inside her. He waited until her cunt tightened around it, then went deeper, filling her slowly with inch after inch of rigid flesh. Each time with him was as if she was taken by a new lover, the unyielding girth of his sex stretching her, then the solid presence filling her belly, possessing her more completely than any man ever had, or quite possibly ever would. It took an entire minute for him to bury himself in her. She wound her legs around his waist, her torso drawn tight between bound wrists and the small of his arched back. He sank the last inch into her and stopped, pinning her to the bed. Her eyes fluttered and closed. Her lips formed a small, satisfied smile. She had taken all of him - from the hard, blunt tip nestled snugly against her cervix, to the thick, flaring root that ground against her as his hips pressed into her in small, firm circles under his body's weight.
She whimpered when he pulled out suddenly, surprised by the emptiness in her belly. She opened her eyes again, squinting in the bright light. He knelt between her legs, his lean stomach and broad chest gleaming with sweat. The aura that surrounded him burned with shifting color, now pulsing violently with vibrant reds and glowing violets. His penis seemed immense as it jutted in the air over her, growing longer and thicker as though reflected in a funhouse mirror. The room was spinning. She closed her eyes. The bed seemed to fall away, leaving her floating above it, weightless and calm.
He was turning her, rolling her onto her belly. His hands were cool, his grasp firm against her naked thighs. She drew her knees under her, offering her ass to him. What she needed came quickly - his strong hands spreading her, then the hot, blunt presence against the entrance, pressing forward slowly, boring into her, deep enough to awaken flesh untouched by any other. The sensation of the cord about her wrists, the cool sheet against her face, the sting of the fullness invading her, all melted into the single essence of what she had become. No longer wife, nor woman, nor even flesh - only need and desire, desperate to be possessed, to be taken by hands that would reduce her to nothing, a zero, dissolving her demons in a sudden rush of Simon's scalding sperm as it bathed her bowels.
The skillful caress of his fingers between her legs sent her into a welcome abyss, falling and floating at the same time through explosions of warmth and color, her own cries echoing in the distance as though they were the urgent calls of some primitive wild animal. Then the darkness arrived, a luscious cradle that closed in around her, sucking away her flesh with a delicious, persistent embrace that slowly consumed her until only the lush fullness deep in her belly remained. Finally it too faded, the encroaching blackness stealing even the nothingness she had become, until it swallowed everything that remained.
***
The car had become a prison for him. An hour passed, then two, and finally a third. He should do something - go in after her, confront the man that took her inside, insist she return with him to their own home, to their own bed. Why had he allowed this in the first place? What kind of man gives his wife to a stranger, and then waits for him to finish with her? Her face haunted him, so youthful when they met, and even now, years later, it still cheated the passage of time. She remained an innocent Lolita with the body of a mature, ripe woman. He knew men desired her. He saw them look, listened to their suggestive banter at parties, cloaked in the feeblest attempts at platonic intent. But she had never given them the slightest satisfaction of a knowing reply. She would simply take his hand, or pull his arm closer around her slim waist, as if to let him know she was his and his alone.
The temptation to go to her was overwhelming, so much so that twice he left the car. The first time he was able to do little more than circle the car, then stand by the open door, his eyes searching the tall windows for any trace of movement. The second time he could go no farther than halfway to the marble steps before retreating, all the while remembering her soft pleading just before she went inside. Now he sat staring at his hands on the wheel, weary from questions he couldn't answer, needing her next to him more than he ever had.
Then she was running toward him, her body glowing in the light that still bathed the house. The simple white nightshirt rose over her thighs as she ran. Bare legs and feet flashed, gracefully carrying her forward, like an angel gliding through the night. She snuggled next to him in the car, an arm around his neck, a hand placed peacefully on his chest. She nuzzled his neck, her damp hair cool and fragrant against his skin.
"Mmmmm - take me home?"
She was asleep within minutes. He carried her from the car to their bed. She moved close to him, pressing her body against his, a contented smile now fixed to her innocent face. After letting some time pass, he placed a hand on her breast, moving a finger over her hardening nipple. She sighed, uttered something soft and unintelligible in her sleep, then turned from him and sighed again one last time. He lay beside her as the hours passed, never sleeping, her gentle breathing filling him with both fear and desire until dawn.
