Darkest Fantasies (19 page)

Then there was
just the feel of rough fabric beneath her bare backside, the
lurches and bumps of the noisy vehicle, the radio and out of tune
whistling of her unknown captor, and the strange sensation of cold
steel vibrating between her thighs.

She pulled
continually at the cuffs that held her stretched to this stranger's
bidding, and wondered where they were going. She also wondered who
he was, and whether he did this sort of thing often. Obviously he
had now removed the mask. It would have been nice to see quite who
had kidnapped her. It was his gall that was the most disconcerting
thing, though. He had taken her so easily, so efficiently, and in
broad daylight. And no one would even know she was missing. Not for
hours and hours.

All sorts of
things went through her mind, but nothing could block out the
sexual awareness of her own naked breasts bouncing to the heavy
suspension of the van, and the incongruous use of the spanner
nestling between her legs.

'Enjoying
yourself, darling?' The driver was shouting over the noise of the
radio, and she detected a faint accent. North country, perhaps.

She growled
and yanked at the straps.

They seemed to
be driving for an awfully long time, and over some very bumpy
roads. Where the hell were they? They had to be miles and miles
away from the city by now.

Then the road
seemed to get bumpier and bumpier. The van finally pulled to a halt
and the engine was cut. So was the radio. Esther froze. She heard
the front door open, then to her horror the back doors opened too,
letting in a cool breeze and the sound of birdsong.

She felt the
back of the van dip as he climbed up. 'Oh, what a nice view,' he
whispered coarsely; she gathered he wasn't talking of the
countryside, which she could smell.

She felt his
knees between her legs and his hands rest on her body, then he
leaned forward and the softest touch of a tongue rasped over her
right nipple. He leaned against the spanner, embedded tight between
her thighs. She inhaled sharply as a wave of primitive sexual
awareness drove goosebumps up all over her body. He wheezed as he
licked his way all over her breasts, down to her waist, his tongue
rasping against her flesh like that of a cat. And all the while the
metal spanner was rubbing erotically against the small nub of
roused flesh.

Her fears were
swept away by urges so primitive they shocked the tiny core of her
awareness, and any tiny niggling hope that it was Kevin fled. He
would never in a hundred years have done anything like this. As the
licking continued she found her body traitorously responding,
writhing beneath the animal who slobbered over her.

'Like that,
bitch?' he croaked between licks, then worked his way back up to
her breasts, and rolled her nipples with his tongue until she was
shuddering with every movement. She felt pressure building inside
her until she wanted to scream - and then suddenly he was gone. She
was lying alone, a summer breeze cooling her flushed flesh with a
feather-light touch.

She sensed he
was watching, and tried to lie still, but could not stop the
betraying ripples which pulsed through her muscles. Then he climbed
out of the van. He released her ankles and ripped the jeans away
hastily. Now she was totally naked. Exposed. Out in the country,
tied up in the back of a van. Reality intruded: anyone could look
in!

She tried to
clamp her legs shut, to hide herself, but he pushed them
determinedly apart and once more encased her ankles in straps. She
moaned and moved, feeling the breeze against the moist orifice
which was opened invitingly to her captor.

She heard his
breath quicken as he pushed her ankles, bent her knees, and
attached the cuffs somewhere over her head, to the ceiling of the
van. She squealed with annoyance and pulled. She bounced on the end
of some kind of elastic. There was a slight give, and then the
elastic rebounded with an undignified lurch.

She tensed.
Now he would have his lecherous way with her.

But no. She
gasped as something cold dripped between her legs. He smoothed it
in. Then he began to massage her. Softly and firmly, his strong
hands massaged the whole area until she was totally oiled. She
tried to move away from his hands, but found herself in the
embarrassing position of total subjugation. And she could not just
relax and compliantly accept the treatment. The sensations were too
overpowering, too glorious to tolerate in acquiescence. Her mind
might rebel, but her treacherous body was revelling in the novel
experience. So her knees bent and straightened with his
ministrations, giving every indication of enjoyment to her
tormentor, who by now was making some very interesting moaning
noises himself.

His fingers
were gradually getting more intimate, sliding in and out of her
vagina, wetting the lips, spreading the oil within. She gave a
muffled scream when his finger slipped into her anus, but could do
nothing but lie there and accept as it happened again and again.
Oh, no one had ever done that to her before; saving her vibrator in
the darkness of the night it was virgin territory.

'Like that, do
you, princess?' he whispered.

She moaned and
her head rolled from side to side.

Then he leaned
forward, arms around her legs, his chest pressing her thighs
against her breasts. As he began to kiss her throat she realised he
had removed his clothes, and was rampant as the tip of his penis
teased at her moist sex lips.

She
moaned.

'Tell me to do
it,' he whispered softly. 'I won't until you beg me.'

Conceited
arsehole! Beg? Esther would never do that! But the dark stimulation
had dragged her into another world, a previously unknown world
where nothing existed other than the sensations of her own body.
Was this how it had been for Kevin?

The man thrust
again and again at her vagina and anus - just a little pressure, a
little stretching, sliding, then away. She moaned with desire, with
need, with shock at her own wish for him to continue. The
frustration was awful. She began to rise to meet his every thrust,
but he pulled away each time. God, the man was inhuman!

'Beg me,' he
whispered in a husky voice. 'Not until you beg me. You know you
want to. Just nod, and I'll slide in and fuck you - like you want
me to.'

Her useless
hands clasped and unclasped, and she thrashed in the dilemma of
desire against conscience. But in the anonymity of darkness, need
won. Eventually, battling with a turmoil of conflicting emotions,
she breathed deeply and gave the faintest of nods.

The brute saw
this.

Again there
was a faint pressure against the entrance of her vagina, then a
further widening as he sank what felt like an enormous erection
inside her. Slick and ready, she felt him glide in right to the
hilt until his balls rubbing softly against her stimulated bottom.
She moaned with pleasure.

Then he moved
back. She gasped with regret as she felt him begin to slide away.
She wanted to say it was all right, she didn't hurt, please go on!
Her breath was ragged and she could feel the onset of orgasm
shooting up through her middle as he exited totally, then, before
she could grunt her displeasure, he began again. Never had anything
prepared her for the sheer erotic joy of this slow and controlled
sex.

It was
everything she had hoped for. And the fact that she could do
nothing to stop it was the most stimulating thing she had ever
experienced. Eventually this slow, grinding pressure became too
much for her, and she gave a small muffled noise as the force of
her orgasm broke through her body. As he felt it, her captor gave a
groan, a few sharp thrusts, and came too. They both panted for a
moment, then her captor slid out and moved away, leaving her cold
and alone.

Finally he
unclipped her ankles, and as she lay in the darkness, she knew her
fantasy had finally been realised. She had enjoyed sex with a
completed stranger. Not only that, but she had begged him for
it.

With the
gradual retreat of her sexual high, she once again became aware
that she was lying trussed and naked in the back of a van, doors
open to the outside.

'Want some
more, darling?' he drawled.

She shook her
head wearily.

'Well you'll
have to wait a bit. I'm just going to have a bite of lunch while I
recover, then I might oblige you. It's an absolutely beautiful day,
you know.'

She pulled at
the restraints around her wrists.

'You promise
not to start yelling - not that there's anyone to hear you - and
I'll take out the gag and give you a beer. Yes?'

She stopped
fidgeting and nodded reluctantly.

'I'll take
that as an affirmative, and don't forget, it won't take me a second
to stuff it back in, okay?'

Before he took
out the gag, however, he tied her ankles firmly together, released
her other bonds, tied her hands behind her back, and pulled her out
of the van. 'A breath of fresh air wouldn't do you any harm, I
guess,' he said.

She grunted as
his shoulder sank into her middle and he lifted, and she realised
he had dressed again. Then she was dumped on the grass, naked and
bound.

'Now, you just
kneel there and let me get you all comfy.'

She found
herself kneeling upright with her shoulders pressed to the
horizontal limb of a tree. He threaded a rope under her arms and
over her breasts and tied her tightly, then untied her arms and
spread them along the limb, securing them firmly to its length.
Then, very carefully, he picked the sticky tape from her mouth and
pulled out the packing. 'Now don't you go getting noisy on me,' he
threatened, holding a can to her lips.

When she had
gulped the precious liquid, she said, 'Can I ask you a
question?'

'Yep. I might
not answer, though.'

'Why me?'

'Because I've
been watching you and I just couldn't resist your so very blatant
charms, darling. I just knew you'd be a sexual animal if I got you
away from the veneer of civilisation.'

She wasn't
sure if that was a compliment or not. 'Do I know you?' she asked
tentatively.

He chuckled.
'Now, that would be telling.'

'Do you know
me?' she persisted.

'I'm getting
to know you.'

She was silent
for a moment, and heard him moving about. 'Are you going to hurt
me?' she asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

'Have I hurt
you yet?'

'No...'

'In fact, I'd
say you've enjoyed it so far.'

'Maybe,' she
said, not wanting to admit that to herself, let alone him,
'but...'

'You either
have or you haven't.'

She couldn't
answer that. 'Please untie me,' she said instead. 'Enough is
enough.'

She felt hands
at her ankles, and gave a sigh of relief which turned into a wail
as he pulled them apart and tied them to something rough. A fallen
branch? Now she was kneeling with her arms stretched out and her
knees apart, once again, totally vulnerable and available. 'You
can't have enough of a good thing,' he sniggered.

'I don't...'
she began.

'That's
enough! One more word and in goes the gag.'

She sensed he
meant it and shut up instantly.

He knelt
behind her and fondled her while he drank his beer, feeding both
his appetites at the same time. Then he pushed a thin branch down
between her legs and into the ground behind her. It flexed upward,
and with every tiny, involuntary movement she inadvertently rubbed
herself on it. The strange vulnerability of her position and her
inability to stop this stimulation made her juices flow.

'That's how
the native women do it,' he informed her.

'Do what?'

'Bring
themselves off,' he said crudely. 'I read it in a book.'

He then poured
beer on her breasts and sucked it off, poured beer on her tongue
and tasted it, and all the time she was moving against the foreign
object between her legs, only now her movements weren't quite so
involuntary. She was doing it because it was good.

He stood back
after a while and watched as she stimulated herself almost to
orgasm. She was gasping with need, the thin veneer of
sophistication totally erased. There was nothing outside this
wonderful bondage and the exhilarating sexual freedom it gave her.
She was not in control of her own body, and so could have no fear
of her responses.

She heard
movement, and the branch dipped. She felt the harsh rasp of his
zipper against her cheek, and then the warm pulsing hardness of his
cock against her chin. She felt beer dripping to her lips, and on
to his cock. She tasted it, reached for it. She began to suck. She
sucked the beer from his tight balls, and nibbled and tasted her
way upward until the back of her head was jammed against the
branch, immobilised. She felt him press towards her, his hands
pulling on the branch, effectively guiding her head back and
forth.

She reached
for the tip, sucked, rubbed her tongue around the beer-washed
penis, and took it in her mouth. He groaned. She sucked harder, and
he began to lean forward, gripping the branch while her seeking
mouth pleasured him, her mind filled with wonder that she was doing
this thing because she wanted to. The twig moved up and down her
lower body as he pulled her about, but not enough. She groaned with
frustration, with need, used her tongue, sucked and teased to
encourage him to push at the branch to which she was strung. Harder
and harder he pulled until he was ramming his engorged cock into
her throat, jamming her chin into the zipper of his jeans with
every stroke. She felt him straining, knew he was going to come and
screamed with frustration. The vibrations in her throat increased,
he pushed hard and she gagged, swallowing him deep into her throat
as he shot his viscous seed into her with a strangled cry of
triumph.