Never Trust a Gentleman
Bethany Thomas was as innocent as a waif in a fetish club when she went up to University. An obsessively over-protective mother, a fiercely single-sex school, and draconian pressure on her free time meant she had no social life nor even any contact with the male of the species.
Not that she would have had any problem attracting them! Five feet five inches; auburn hair cascading to her waist, emerald green eyes set in an open, peaches and cream face with full pink lips. Her body could give a priest an erection; D cup breasts, slim waist, curvaceous hips and endless smooth slim legs. Even in faded jeans, an over-size tee shirt and her hair gathered in a scrunchie, she was exceptional! Paul spotted her on the fringes of the crowd at the Op. Soc. Stall. He arrowed across to her.
“Do you sing?”
She blushed demurely. "Well, I did several leads at my school. My music teacher says I have got talent.”
“Come and meet the gang. We’re doing Carmen this year; plenty of roles for a pretty girl!”
She smiles weakly at the compliment. He introduced her to the players but she stuck to Paul’s side like a limpet.
Paul Harden rose to his full six foot three, flashed his blue eyes, smiled warmly from his pale, Nordic face and told her about himself. A third year, majoring in economics and business administration, he is a modern pent-athlete, cultured, with a special interest in opera, appreciative of fine wine, food and beautiful girls.
“There’s a wine and cheese this evening. I’ll pick you up from your halls. Room number?”
“I’ll see you seven o’clock. Oh, and there are auditions tomorrow afternoon; any piece you like!”
She left him to continue his canvassing. She dawdled around the Societies’ Fair, joined a couple of clubs, went to her room, had a light tea and spent time getting ready. The effect was mesmeric! Her hair shining, controlled by a gold clasp, a silk dress, bought by her grandmother because it matched her hair, caressed every movement of her body, her makeup of eye shadow, mascara, a little powder and pink lipstick enhanced her natural complexion. Her nail varnish, shoes and bag were the emerald green of her eyes. When she opened the door to Paul, he was speechless. She was a 3D Hollywood Goddess!
“You look enchanting,” he stammered.
Paul knew there and then he had to have her. At the wine and cheese, she turned heads and stunned conversation. The men wanted her; the women to be her. Paul guarded her like a well trained Rottweiler. When he returned her to her room, she invited him in for coffee but he declined.
“We both have auditions tomorrow; water and an early night.”
For the auditions, she decided to show off her vocal range and power, mainly to impress Paul: ‘Summertime,’ from ‘Porgy and Bess’ then ‘the Queen of the Night’ aria from the ‘Magic Flute’. She warmed up her voice as she has been taught then sang her heart out. The musical director dropped his score and sat gaping. The applause was led by Paul.
“Bravo, Bravo. Encore!”
She curtseyed to him. “Have I passed?”
The musical director snapped his mouth shut like a goosed guppy. “Miss Thomas, you can audition for any soprano part you want!” Envy beamed at her from the established female leads which had auditioned earlier. The male leads had sung in the morning. Paul came and shook both her hands.
“What a voice! Come let us celebrate!” He took her to the nearby coffee shop. Over the coming weeks, he played the perfect gentleman, escorting her to parties, dances and formal balls. He took her shopping to expand her meagre wardrobe. Anything too risqué was dismissed with a shake of the head: anything too expensive he bought for her, including a magnificent ball gown. He entertained her at his house; candle lit suppers or dinner with his friends. He had money to burn from his grandfather’s trust fund and spending it on her gave him exquisite pleasure! They even sang together as the leads in Carmen. All this time, their contact was formal: dancing, assisting her in and out of cars and an air kiss or kiss of the hand in greeting. She started to worry that something was wrong with her but felt totally relaxed in his company.
One balmy, sunny Sunday, Paul suggested an excursion into the hills. “Go and see nature in the raw!”
Beth wore a green sundress, the colour of new grass, ankle socks and flat shoes. Her fleece was in the rucksack; it was autumn. They went high into the hills, to a deserted car park at the end of a forest track.
“Come on, let’s walk.” He bounded out of the car, lifting the rucksack off her knee. She followed more slowly, on the lookout for puddles and mud. A narrow path led into the forest. They meandered along until they burst into a small bright clearing.
“The perfect place to commune with nature,” Paul chirped, “I want you to feel what it is like to be part of the forest.”
Beth looked at him quizzically.
“Put your hands in front of you, wrists together.” She obeyed implicitly. He unravelled a long piece of rope from the bag, doubled it and ensnared her wrists. She looked at him, trusting, as he wound it round several times and cinched it, leaving two long ends.
“Now, let’s get your hands over that branch.” She reached up. Six inches too short. He grabbed her by the waist and lifted.
“Put your hands over the centre branch.” She did. He lowered her leaving her wrists over the core branch and crushed against the two side stumps. She was on tiptoe.
He took the long ends around the side branches three times before binding her wrists beneath the branch and cinching the whole tight. No slack, she was there until he released her.
“You are now part of the forest. You cannot leave. Next, a tree has no sight.” He took a thick, black eye mask out of the bay, slipped it over her eyes and tightened the strap. Total darkness!
“The last thing a tree cannot do is call for help. Open your mouth wide.”
She pretended she was at the dentist. He forced in a wad of cotton and a large solid ball. Secured under her hair, she was silent.
“Now I will leave you for a little while to be part of the forest. The branch is your trunk, the rope your roots anchoring you, the blindfold and the gag isolate you to feel the wind, the sun and the sounds of the forest.”
He left. She felt the scrape of wood at her wrists and the persistent grip of the rope. No light, no sounds, except the rustle and creak of the trees. The sun warmed her hair, the wind caressed her skin and her nose filled with the scent of pine. She was part of the forest and grateful for the experience. She spent the time until his return luxuriating in her heightened senses. A gentle breath on her neck announced his return.
“You know this forest is exploited by man. He plants them so close together to force vertical growth then cuts them down to use as he thinks fit. No spread of seeds. No freedom. No choice.” He paused for thirty heartbeats.
“I will treat you the same. You are mine to exploit.”
As he paused again, she felt a shiver of unease, maybe he was not the perfect gentleman after all! She was ripe for exploitation- bound, blind and silent. She waited, having no other choice.
“I will slide my hands under your dress, unclip your bra and capture your soft tits. I will play with them until I feel you respond then I will move a hand to your clit and mound. When you thrust against me, I will remove the white panties and take your precious virginity. Once deep in you, I will give you your first real fucking and plant my seed in your womb in the hope of getting you pregnant!”
She knew this would happen; to be at the mercy of a scheming man.
He gave her a full minute for the magnitude of her capture to hit her. She felt hands on her bottom, warm, sensual, tickling their way up her back. A practiced flick and her bra opened. Probing fingers followed the straps to the front, stripping the cups off her breasts. For the first time her breasts were the property of someone else. A playful squeeze led to a more business-like groping. Holding her nipples in his fingers, he rolled them slowly, gently but with increasing intensity. Her tits swelled and her nipples hardened.
He whispered, “You long for your tits to be fondled and abused.” He dug his nails into her fleshy breasts and nipped her nipples. She would have screamed ‘No’ but only managed to push herself into his hands.
A hand crossed to the opposite breast to hold her tight. The other descended slowly to the front of her panties to worm its way inside. He touched her naked clit. She jumped as if given an electric shock.
“You never touch yourself?”
She shook her head.
“Get used to it; there is much more to come!”
The hand wended down to her pussy leaving a very active thumb on her sensitive clit. Her mind said, control yourself; her body, relax into the pleasures. She fought herself for a couple of minutes until a finger entered her a little way. She bucked like a branded filly.
“Time to remove those panties.”
Both hands moved quickly. The panties were at her feet. She meekly stepped out of them. The hands returned to erogenous zones. She shivered as her nipple and clit endured a vicious finger flicking. His finger entered her again. She bucked in response.
“Now to up the ante.”
She was released for a minute. Her tumbling mind heard the sounds of him undressing. The respite only let the enormity of what was to follow loom large. The hands fondled, more insistent on her response. She started. He forced himself up between her legs; a solid rod reminiscent of a marlin spike, thumped soft thigh.
“This is where I sample the pleasures of your body.”
The fingers directed his erection to her opening while the thumb played a triumphal rhythm on her clit. Her world went into slow motion. Opened by the fingers his mushroom head nudged into her virgin space. A slow strong push buried it. She felt him burrow a couple of inches then stop. The nipple and clit abuse reached a crescendo.
“Time to pop your precious cherry,” he hissed. His strong arms encircled her. As he drove up, they pulled her down. A moment of hesitation, searing pain then it ripped. He was further in; going deeper by the second. She could feel her walls yielding as her weight and wetness gave her nowhere to go but down.
“Hum, so tight, so wet, another minute and I will be ball deep. A short recovery time, then your first fucking. I can hardly wait!”
She realised as the final inch slid in she was off the ground; feet dangling; his hands supporting her thighs. Holding her there, he wiggled his hips, withdrew slowly then drove with all his power. His hardness bludgeoned her open and smashed into her cervix. She saw stars! He repeated the assault every five seconds. She squirmed, gasped and moaned, unaware of being fucked senseless. She wanted it harder and more brutal. She got her wish as she was tossed around like a rag doll on his rampant weapon. They exploded together: she juiced around him: he filled her with his sperm. “God” she thought “I could be pregnant!”
Panting he withdrew, pulled her dress up over her breasts and hung her panties on the branch.
“I am going for a walk.” He left her bound, blind, gagged, breasts exposed and cum and blood running down her legs. Her panties fluttered in the breeze above her head.
He only just left when she heard footsteps which came to a stop behind her. "What luck! She’s gorgeous! Do you think we are interrupting something?” A second voice answered.
“She is securely tied to that branch, blindfolded and gagged. Her pussy is dripping cum. I think she is a submissive being punished and this is an invitation to join in the punishment.”
Rucksacks hit the ground and small undressing sounds followed. “I’m first!”
She tried to indicate ‘no’ but only jiggled her breasts and buttocks in an inviting way. Callused hands grabbed her breasts and a big thick cock filled her in one powerful stroke. A pumping that started slow and speeded to her orgasmic submission ensued. Her pussy filled with cum again. She was just starting to breathe when a shorter, broader hardness took its place. She was stretched again. He preferred long smooth strokes but the effect was the same. As her lust increased the owner of the cock pushed a finger in her tight ass driving her to more energetic attempts to un-impale herself but only increased his pleasure. She was filled again.
“Do you think I could use her ass?”
“No, better not, she’s very tight possibly a virgin, her master will want that for himself.”
He returned ten minutes later. She was standing in a pool of cum.
“Oh, somebody found you! They left fifty pounds. Not bad for fifteen minutes work. I’d have got a hundred if your ass had been in the deal. I’ll fix that now!”
A well lubricated finger bored its way in, then two, then three. She was so compliant now. His cock soon made entrance all the way in. She cried shameful tears as he speared her ring and she enjoyed the pain. An ass full of cum completed her time as part of the forest. He adjusted her dress, released her from the branch and led her by the rope ends to the car; blind and silent.
“Time to prepare you for the return journey.” Having freed her hands, he forced them behind her and lashed them tight again. Her elbows were squeezed together and secured to the torso. Ties to the ankles, knees and thighs immobilised he legs. He dumped her in the boot. A coarse rope encircled the waist, buried itself in her folds, fed around her elbow tie, through a loop at her ankles and back to a fixture on the back of the gag. He tightened it with brutal strength. Neck and knee cords stretched her to anchor points.
“Enjoy the ride!” Already the rope fibres were irritating her abused clit.
On arrival at Paul’s house, he backed into the garage and shut the door. He removed her from the boot to the basement she had never seen. He untied, washed and fed her then chained her to the wall in the same position as in the forest. He re-blindfolded her but replaced the ball with a penis gag.
“Practice for tomorrow. Cock sucking 101.” He sniggered. “Still think you are a tree?” He went upstairs.
She thought dolefully of her day. This morning, a naive virgin picking feminine clothes to impress her gentleman boyfriend; now chained, naked, gagged and blind, she had been raped three times and ass fucked once and awaited the fiend’s pleasure in his dungeon.
Copyright© 2014 by Doc49. All rights reserved. I welcome your comments. Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org