His chest was smooth. Did he wax it? Waxed the hairs into submission, like everything else, she figured. His arms, too. But his legs still had a moderate sheathing of dark hair. His one concession to nature? Or did he figure that somehow made him a little more intimidating? The toes she had become all too familiar with were straight, not stubby, a few stray, wiry hairs on them, the nails cut short, in control. She’d decided, as she’d watched him eating her food, that it would be easier to do what she would clearly have to do if she kept her hatred directed solely at his mind, if she thought of his body as just another one of his hostages.
It had made it easier for her to lick his foot, not to mention his ass, after she had made the obligatory effort to try to escape. She’d hated putting her cats at risk, but it was a calculated one. He would never believe that she wouldn’t try. No one’s
that
reasonable. And even she thought she might have had a chance. Her husband had taught her some moves, but she was far from a professional, and really, that’s what you needed to be against an actual professional, movies and TV aside. She saw her moment, and she took it. And then he’d punished her severely, and clearly felt even more in charge after she did what she had to do to make amends.
At first, after that, she thought he would just continue to use her sexually for his satisfaction, but he was trickier than that. Though she’d never give him the credit, he was really ingenious and creative, if you could use those words to describe his practices. She’d never heard of anyone like this. She wished she hadn’t now.
“What’s really interesting here,” he said, “is how rapidly and rationally you’ve adjusted to this situation. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen that before. Where’s the normal human response? Where’s the stupidity?”
She didn’t answer him. He wasn’t surprised. It was a rhetorical question. She would hardly be able to respond while she had his dick in her mouth. He was leaning with his back against one of the living room windows, his hands behind him on the sill, as she knelt in front of him. Occasionally, he gave instructions, like “faster” or “slower” or “just like that” or “lick my balls.” The usual. She was just grateful that he didn’t have his hand on her head, pushing it in toward him. He’d done that a bit at the beginning, until she’d choked too much even for his pleasure. He kept having to order her to keep her eyes open.
Finally, he did grab her head again and held it in place while he ejaculated into her mouth. He pulled out but held onto her by the hair.
“Swallow.”
“Eeeuow.” Her eyes were wide and her mouth was clamped shut.
“Now.”
With a great gulping movement of her throat, she swallowed. He pulled her head up so that she faced him. “I think the proper thing to say is ‘thank you, sir, may I have another?’”
She looked very unhappily at him, and spoke through clenched teeth. “Thank you, sir, may I have another?”
“Again.”
“Thank you, sir, may I have another?”
“Again.”
She sighed. “Thank you, sir, may I have another?”
“Sure,” he said, generously. “Later.”
He let her go, and she crawled away from him.
“That was so good, my legs are a little shaky,” he said, sitting back down on the sofa.
“Yeah, you really lucked out with me. I’m a real fucking pro in that department.”
He smiled. “Tell me something. How is it that you can make yourself swallow when I know that with every fiber of your being, as they say, you wanted to spit it out at me?”
She was sitting on the rug that covered the living room floor, with her arms around her pulled-in knees and her head down. “There are tricks that every girl learns just to deal with ordinary situations, if you know what I mean,” she said in what she hoped was a normal voice. “It helps to think of oysters.” She paused. “Although it kind of makes me hate oysters.”
“And my other question?”
“I don’t know what you want me to tell you. I can’t help the way I am. You have the power over me, and I recognize it. If you get over the sex part, it’s no different from your making me go to my ATM and hand over my money.”
“Most people don’t get over the sex part.”
“Have you ever done this to a man?”
He just looked at her. And smiled. Then he spoke. “It works even better on a man,” he said. “Although you do have to beat them up a bit more at the beginning. A lot of them refuse to see any reason, no matter how much you threaten them. Or kill their dogs. I don’t mean to minimize your suffering, but they tend to find rape unbearably humiliating. Stupid, really. Not like you.” He paused.
“Does that make me gay?” He feigned concern.
“Oh, I don’t think that’s the word for you.”
“No?”
“No. Equal opportunity evil, I’d say. And unbigoted.”
He grinned.
“You were born for this,” he said.
“Nobody is born for this,” she spat back.
He leaned back a bit more. “No, really. You might be perfectly adequate in ordinary life. Seem just like anyone else. But in this kind of situation, well, you really shine. It’s amazing to see.”
“I just can’t tell you how much that means to me, coming from you.”
“You would have been wiser to just be ordinary.”
“What would ordinary have done?” she asked sadly.
“Cried. And cried. Some pointless running around. And cried.”
“I guess it’s too late for that at this point, huh?”
He smiled.
“And then they have to live with what you did when you’re gone?”
“No. Usually I kill them after they’ve suffered for a while. Depending upon my instructions. Like I said, this situation is rare. Usually it’s destroy psychologically, then physically.”
“You really are a monster.”
“Yes.”
“Maybe there aren’t any instructions. Maybe there is no they. Only you. Just one psycho killer slash rapist.”
“I suppose it’s possible. But then you’d have to ask the question: why you?”
“Just lucky?”
“I wouldn’t even know you were here. This house is not in your name. Way out here in the country. What would I be doing here? And you had some pretty decent security. Do I look like one of those backwoods stalker types? With my particular set of skills? That doesn’t seem likely. But you can believe what you want.”
“So why do you think they have you do these things?”
“The usual reasons, I suppose. Either you’re a rival crime lord, a secret agent dedicated to eradicating whatever my employers stand for, a witting or unwitting witness to something you shouldn’t have seen or heard or touched. Or it’s to get at somebody else through hurting you.”
“I guess that pretty much covers it.”
“I guess. Some of the people I work for are very, very unforgiving.”
“And that’s where you come in,” she said.
He thought a moment. “Come over here,” he ordered.
Her face crumpled just a little.
“Now,” he said, warningly.
She went. “On your knees, facing me.”
When she obeyed, he reached out his hand and inserted his middle finger into her vagina, not roughly at all. He moved it back and forth, while rubbing her clitoris gently with the thumb of his same hand. With the other hand, he took one of her breasts and brought it to his mouth, bending over a bit to do so. He began to lick and suck at the nipple. After a few minutes, he found the position awkward, so he had her move onto the couch next to him, whereupon he continued. With his hands still busy, he freed his mouth for a moment.
“What a lot of people don’t like to admit, is that something that they know is wrong can still be sexually exciting.” He went back to her breast for a bit.
“Really,” was all she said.
“Even if you tell yourself, intellectually, that you’re under duress and your body is only human,” he added, taking another break. “You still can’t help feeling emotionally wrong to find yourself responding when you know you shouldn’t be.”
“Bit of an amateur psychologist, aren’t you?” she said. Her breathing was a little unsteady.
“I know what I’m doing,” he said, continuing.
She grimaced. “Bit of an amateur gynecologist, too, aren’t you?”
He continued to work on her with his mouth and his fingers.
“You see,” he said. “You don’t want to admit that this feels good. Even though it does.”
“What response do you want?” she asked, sighing. “I’ll give it to you.”
“Don’t get excited,” he said.
“Ok.”
She stared ahead of herself, and her breathing stayed calm. Her crotch stayed dry. He couldn’t help smiling.
“Well. I can certainly see the work involved. What are you thinking about, baseball?”
“Your death.”
“Can’t be that. That would excite you, I’m sure.”
“Prick.”
He let her continue fighting it for a while. Then he changed his mind.
“Now, get excited.”
“I really hate you.”
“I’m not exactly shocked.” He moved her down until she was horizontal on the couch, knowing that it would be even harder to maintain her efforts in that position.
“You know, you’re wrong. I don’t have to think of anything but what’s happening. The last thing I’m feeling is sexually stimulated,” she said. “I am soooo not in the mood.”
“Really?” he said. “Then forcing you to be in the mood should make you suffer more.”
“Well, obviously.”
“But you disagree with my premise.”
She scowled at him.
“Which is,” he clarified, with accompanying hand gestures, “that this situation is itself sexually exciting, even if you don’t want to admit it.”
“You’re wrong. You just want to believe that.”
“It’s no reflection on me,” he assured her. “It’s a fact – though not a widely known one – that fear, stress, even the prospect of death can be physically arousing. Human nature is perverse. When it comes to sex, what’s right isn’t always what’s exciting. And what’s wrong isn’t always a drag.”
She said nothing. She just lay there.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong. Your ordinary, garden-variety rape – not exciting. For the victim, that is. Fast, furious, brutal, violent. That’s not most people’s cup of tea.” He paused. “But you and I – we – have a relationship now.”
She made a pffft sound.
“We do. And just purely physically, what I’m doing
has
to feel good.”
“Will you feel like a failure if it doesn’t?”
“I know that it does. I’ll just consider you a great actress.”
“Thanks.”
“Now, let’s see you ‘act’ aroused. Let’s see you ‘act’ like you enjoy this. Go ahead. I want to see you come again.”
Her head shook a little and her eyes began the lightest of twitching. “Fine,” she bit off.
“And keep your eyes open.”