First Times: Nine Tales of Innocence Lost (3 page)

He took the camera and swept it down over my body, aiming it between my legs as he pumped, drawing pained groans out of me. I hugged myself and he slowed, pressing his cock deep inside me again, and held still.
 

“Your cunt is so hot,” he growled, “You’re so wet. Does it hurt?”
 

“Yes.”
 

He touched my cheek. “Awww, honey. Hold still and relax, and it’ll get better. Feel it?”
 

He moved slowly, and I closed my eyes and arched under him as he leaned over me, pressing me down with his weight. He had the camera trained on my face again as he fucked me slowly, rolling his hard cock through my tight, slick walls. The pain was still there, but it was fading, and something else grew beside it. It felt good, so good I let out a strangled little cry of pleasure before I bit down on it and clenched my teeth. That made him growl, and roll his hips harder, not so much thrusting as grinding, moving his cock hard but in short little jerks. I could feel the wetness from it on my legs, even as they rose up on their owns and locked around his hips. I squeezed him with my legs and pushed him into me as the hot, twisting sensation of his cock send shooters of pleasure through my body. Feeling him grind against me was so intense, I could barely stand it.
 

“You like it, you little slut?”
 

“Yes,” I moaned, “Yes. Give it to me!”
 

“Fuck,” he barked, loudly into my throat as he leaned over me. He brought the camera to my face, and gave it to me to hold as he stood up.
 

“Now,” he said, holding my hips. “Let’s show you how a real man fucks.”
 

There was nothing gentle in him now. He dragged me across the desktop to him and began pumping furiously, his thrusts bringing the burning sting back even as the pleasure grew, the heat salted by it. I writhed on the desk, barely able to hold the camera and keep it aimed at my face. He took it back and aimed between my legs as he stood up and thrusted into me, grunting. Suddenly, he pulled out, and left me gasping and startled, my legs moving on their own.
 

“Get up,” he said.
 

I could barely stand up. My legs were too shaky. He spun me around and slid the camera under me as he bent me over the desk, holding both my arms just above the elbow, and thrust inside me. This time his cock slid into my tight channel easily, filling me all at once, and I moaned and arched back, my whole body tensing with the intensity of the sensation. He fucked me even harder now, his erection driving deep inside. I thrashed back, driving myself against him, ramming his cock into me in time with his rhythm, burying it inside me to the root. He let go of my arms, and bent over me as I leaned on the desk. One arm looped around my neck as he pressed his face into the back of my head, and the other wrapped around my body, his hand sliding over my sweat-slick stomach. I cried out as his fingers touched my swollen folds, spread around his cock.
 

I gave in to him completely, begging between moans for him to go harder, faster.
 

He found my clit and began circling it with his finger, and the sensation was too much, making me moan and groan as his cock filled me with heat while sharp, cold shooters of electricity darted all the way down to my toes. It was too much for me to handle, and I thrashed wildly, the pain forgotten in this storm of pleasure. I barely understood was happening as I hit my peak, like falling through hot air and slamming into cold water. I was a passenger in my body as I thrashed and wriggled against him.

He barked out a sharp “
Fuck!”,
and grabbed my hips. I leaned over the desk, grunting like an animal through clenched teeth as he shoved his cock into me to the root and held me against him so hard it would leave welts on my hips, burying his shafts in my depths as he spilled inside me, hot and slick. When he drew out of me it left his cum sliding down my legs, he’d pumped me so full. I almost fell, all the strength going out of my knees, until he turned me around and laid me out on the table. I felt totally used up and spent, like every muscle had been stretched out, like taffy. I lay there as he wiped down his dick and tucked himself back in his pants, then gave me a wet wipe to clean myself off. I could still feel him inside me as I pulled up my underwear and shorts and did up the button. I was sore and satisfied at the same time.
 

As I stood up, shakily, he slipped the handcuffs back into their case on his belt. He was watching the video. I could hear myself squeaking and moaning, my voice tinny from the little speaker.
 

“You can ride up from this time.”
 

I didn’t say anything as he drove me back to my car. He gave me my keys and my stuff back and drove off into the night. Hurriedly, I got back in my car and locked the door, looking around. It was pitch black, almost three in the morning, and I was well past my curfew.
 

When I walked in the back door, my mother was waiting at the kitchen table.
 

“I hope you had a good time,” she snapped.
 

“You have no idea,” was all I could say.
 

Victoria

I was eighteen years old for less than a day when I learned my father had sold me.
 

My return home from boarding school was a whirlwind. Sixteen hours on a plane that left me tired and sore, my legs cramped from sitting. The dull ride home from the airport, constantly on the edge of sleep in the back of the car. Every time I was almost out there would be a hooking curve in the interstate that would jolt me awake. I was almost asleep when the car finally rolled to a stop and the driver leapt out to get my door for me as the servants rushed out to retrieve my things from the trunk. I stepped out and yawned, eager to get a shower, get in bed, and begin readying myself for college in the fall. Dad was waiting for me, standing by the opened doors, under the portico. He ignored the servants as they carried my things. When I stepped up with my arms out to huge him, he took my arm and led me inside.
 

“What’s wrong?”
 

“Don’t get settled,” he said, his voice strangely tight.
 

There was a man in the foyer. He faced away, so I could only see the back of his silk suit his clasped hands, and slicked back hair. I swallowed, hard. Something about this made Dad nervous, and that made me nervous. I looked at him and he looked at me.
 

“This is Will Carlyle. You’re going with him.”
 

“What?” I snapped. “Why?”
 

He looked at the floor. “Please, Victoria. Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”
 

The stranger turned around and approached. He was tall, narrow in his build but strangely graceful. I found myself staring into his eyes. One was dark blue, the other so pale the iris was almost white. I expected him to offer a hand to shake, so I stretched out mine, only to pull back and wipe it down my side when he failed to reciprocate. He stared at me hungrily, his eyes appraising. I felt like a prey animal behind glass, with a panther stalking back and forth outside, dreaming of sinking fangs into my flesh. I shivered.
 

“I don’t understand. Is this an internship or something?”
 

“No,” Carlyle said, calmly. “Your father owes me a great deal of money. Money which he cannot repay. I offered him an alternative payment plan. You.”
 

I blinked. “What? That’s crazy.
 
You can’t-“
 

“I can. It’s you, or him. I’m afraid he picked you.”
 

Dad looked at me and then edged away, looking at the floor.
 

“It won’t be so bad,” he said, his voice shaking. “He promised not to hurt you.”
 

“Hurt me?” I said, backing away. “This… you can’t
sell me!
I won’t do it. I won’t go.”
 

“You will,” said Grayson. He looked at my father. “You were right, she is willful, but she’ll learn. You’re sure she’s a virgin?”
 

“She told her mother she is. I haven’t… checked.”
 

I couldn’t believe this was happening. The door was behind me, wide open. I started to turn.
 

A strong closed around my arm.
 

“I was promised a virgin. For your father’s sake, I hope you are.”
 

I stared at him, wide-eyed. Then I slapped him. Having my arm held in place took some of the force out of the blow, but it was enough to turn his head. He blinked and turned back slowly, his thin lips spreading into a tight, knowing smile.
 

“You have a lot of fire. That will make you more enjoyable to tame. We’re leaving.”
 

Screaming, I pounded my first on his arm and tried to yank loose, but he quickly had me by both arms, turning me away from him. I dug my heels in and kicked, trying to stop him from pushing me through the door, but he was too strong. I thrashed and tried to hit him with the back of my head, but nothing I did mattered, and he bodily lifted me from the ground and carried me. I twisted around enough to see my father staring at the floor.
 

“You bastard!” I shrieked, “How can you do this!”
 

The servants were all just staring, watching.

“Somebody help!”
 

No one did. They just stared at nothing, like they couldn’t see me. There was another car already waiting for me outside. Carlyle shoved me through the open door and stepped in after me, settling into the seat as the door was closed behind him. I knew fighting him was pointless, so I went for the other door. I yanked and yanked on the handle, but nothing. I tried to go for the other, but Carlyle shoved me back down into my seat and then his hand closed around my throat, holding me still. He turned my head to look at him and I stared into his strange, mis-matched eyes.
 

“I enjoy a little sport, but if you make yourself difficult, I’m going to to have to discipline you. You can sit there like a good girl, or I can teach you a lesson and tie you down.”
 

He let go, and I clutched my throat in my hands. He hadn’t choked me, but I could still feel steely fingers pressing on my tender skin.
 

“Fuck you,” I hissed, edging away from him.
 

“Oh, you will,” he said. “Or rather, I will. Once you’ve learned your place, Victoria.”
 

“What pace is that?”
 

“At my feet, as my willing concubine.”
 

“Willing?” I spat. “I’ll never be willing to do anything with you.”
 

“Yes you will,” he said, easing into the seat. “You’ll be begging me to touch you, by the time I’m done.”
 

I pushed against the door, putting as much space between his body and mine as I could manage. I scowled at him and he smirked at me, clearly amused. He touched his handkerchief to his face, and dabbed a way a spot of red. I must have hit him harder than I thought.
 

“I’ve had girls like you before. You think because your daddy buys you a convertible and pays for you to get a meaningless education before you marry some simpleton, you’re someone special. Someone important. You’re not. Your whole life has been leading up to this. Your father could have quit long ago, lived a more modest life. He was far from broke when he came to me, only ambitious. That ambition meant more to him than you. Your future husband, such as he would have been, would only have wanted you to wear on his arm, as a symbol of status, or to get in good with your worthless father. You see, Vitoria, I’m the only one who’s ever cared about you at all. I care enough to break you.”
 

“You’ll never break me,” I said.
 

The car pulled away. I rode in silence. Light classical music piped in through the car’s speakers, and Carlyle listened, waving his elegant fingers back and forth, as if he were conducting the music himself. The gesture was so pretentious it sickened me. I stared out the windows, trying to learn and memorize the route from my home to wherever he was taking me. I’d already decided I would never go back to my mother and father again. Whatever kind of sick fuck this man was, he was right about that. If they would do this to me, how could they ever love me? My eyes burned, and I felt tears on my cheeks. I didn’t give the bastard the satisfaction of wiping them away. I just kept quiet.
 

Eventually, the car pulled around behind a large, old house. Revolutionary war era, maybe earlier. The door opened and Carlyle stepped out.
 

Then my door opened.
 

I bolted. I kicked out of my pumps and I ran barefoot, but I made it less than five steps before he had me, shrieking and thrashing, and dragged me into the house. Once inside he dumped me on the plush carpeted floor and stood over me.

“These displays are pointless. No one is going to hear you here. There is nowhere to run.”
 

I looked around. He had people. Servants. A maid in a uniform. How could these people just watch this?

“They are well paid, and understand the consequences of betraying me. Get up.”
 

How did he do that? Was he reading my mind?

Slowly, I got to my feet.
 

His hands shot out and grabbed the placket of my blouse, and yanked. It came open all at once, sending the buttons pattering across the carpet. I twisted and tried to cover myself, but he turned me around and ripped away my clothes, the fabric ripping loudly as it split under his grip. My blouse came away in tatters, and he clamped his hand on the back of my neck while he undid the clasp on my bra and pulled the straps down, then yanked it away. He didn’t stop me covering myself, or at least my chest, as he yanked down my jeans and pushed me to the ground, twisting to hold me down as he dragged off my tight jeans and threw them aside, and then my socks. His hand found my throat again and he pinned me down, face up, and slid his hand between my legs. His finger slid along my folds, and I gasped, going still.