Her Nemesis Master (Dark BDSM Erotica) (5 page)

Each time Emily left the elevator, she was shaking with fury,
and much to her consternation she was wet around the gusset – her
pussy shockingly aroused. And each evening her fantasies were
infused with a throbbing phallus – a tormenting cock filling her
orifices, spraying her body with ribbons of spunk to the sounds of
loutish verbal filth. She got Les to fuck her almost every night.
She became insatiable – a ravenous beast that hungered for cock,
but of course it wasn’t Les’s that she really yearned
for.

In the shower Emily would masturbate, morning and night,
dreaming of the elevator and of a mysterious changing room with a
shower used by men somewhere in the basement of the office block
where she worked. She dreamed that she was in that shower being
fucked against the wall: taken from behind standing squashed into
the tiles; then taken from the front with her legs wrapped around a
waist, getting slapped and spat at, getting gloriously screwed. She
would simulate the act, panting out her need, frigging her pussy
and frigging her ass, playing with her clit and her little pink
anus, wishing it was the man, Her Nemesis, who was mauling her and
making her come so incredibly hard.

It was shameful behaviour, but unbelievably exciting – and
deep in her heart Emily knew that fickle Fate was heading towards
only one conclusion.

Chapter
5

About a month after the first incident, Emily worked late
again. And again the dark sultry man was waiting for her in the
elevator. She knew he would be there. It had become a routine –
Emily would work late and the man would be in the elevator when she
called it, always alone, patiently waiting. Emily would look him
over, showing disdain, and hiding her attraction to the raw
physicality of his rugged bearing. Then she would stand facing
away, clutching her bag with both hands at the front, breathing of
him deeply, her eyes closed so she could visualise better the image
that had just burned her brain. On the journey down the man would
verbally abuse her, outlining despicable filth. He would taunt her
with suggestions that were hideously debasing, promising to subject
Emily to humiliating acts – fucking her up the ass being his
favourite, but far from the only one. The man pushed her and pushed
her, appalling her sensitivity, yet Emily always came back – hating
the man with a passion, and wanting him even more.

But on this occasion the routine was broken. The infuriatingly
handsome hunk that now dominated Emily’s every thought,
surprisingly remained quiet. Emily breathed him in as the elevator
commenced its descent, waiting for the verbal onslaught that didn’t
come. The silence was disturbing- eerie like a graveyard and just
as chilling. She was tempted to turn round and face him – surrender
just the once, and treat her eyes to another look at his stunning
manliness. This wasn’t right - this deviance from the norm that
Emily had come to hunger for. Why was he acting so strangely? The
man’s silence had more torment than the foul language he used when
he spoke to her.

Emily felt a sudden panic as her mind raced with
possibilities. Had he got bored of the game? Had Emily won the
battle of wills that had been fought over the past month? Surely he
must know that deep in her core she didn’t want the victory – that
there was a blossoming part of her psyche that wanted to lose and
surrender completely!

Oh he knew! This was Her Nemesis – of course the big brute
knew!

That became all too evident when Emily felt some pressure
against her ass cheeks and prodding at the crack. Startled, Emily
jumped and turned around. This wasn’t part of the understanding
that had developed between them – the man had never touched her
before. Physical contact wasn’t allowed! This was breaking an
unspoken rule of the game. Then Emily gasped when she saw him –
after all of his taunting it still came as a surprise to see the
man standing there with his cock out of his flies – the meat hard
and hungry!

Wow!

Biff! Bang! Bash! Wallop! And Crash! The bag was dropped as
the woman went weak at the knees.

Struggling for composure, Emily gazed wide-eyed at the
erection Her Nemesis held in his hand, waving it provocatively at
her. She stuttered and stammered. She backed away from him,
pressing herself against the elevator door. The man followed, and
leaned over to press the button for the basement. Emily followed
his hand and noticed that the ground floor button was unlit. It no
longer occurred to her to check and press it herself for they
always got out at the lobby – it was part of the game. But now the
rules had changed.

Emily shook her head; her eyes flicking first to the man’s
impressively large penis that certainly lived up to all those
threatening promises, then to his confidently grinning face – so
ruggedly handsome – so annoyingly fine, demanding a surrender that
she longed to give.

But no, Emily had to resist. This was taking the game too far.
She had a husband who loved her. She was a decent woman who was
going through a funny phase, not some unfaithful slut who wanted to
be debased. She was a sophisticated young lady, with class and
breeding – she could not yield to this lout who was crude and
uncouth, no matter how fine the face, or how big the
cock!

Dragging up some vestige of resistance, Emily reached out to
press the ‘LOBBY’ button but the man caught her hand and prised it
away. He pressed against Emily again, grinding his naked cock
against Emily’s groin and her whorishly oozing pussy that didn’t
subscribe to any of her prudish nonsense.

That proved the final straw. After a whole month of verbal
foreplay, Emily couldn’t help it. The prim and proper part of her
wanted to stop him, but the emerging whore in her seized the
moment. She jutted out with her hips and felt the man’s hard dick
pushing back at her, grinding into Emily’s ravenous sex. In the
misty haze of lust that had quickly descended, Emily responded, the
woman moaning and groaning as the man dry humped her. Not thinking,
just reacting to all the pent up desires he had so craftily
nurtured, she reached round with her hands and grasped the man’s
butt, pulling him in as she spread her legs as far as the skirt
would allow. Waves of pure bliss radiated up from her sex as she
absorbed every part of him with every sense she
possessed.

Then suddenly a voice screamed warning in her ear.
‘Wake up! Wake up, you stupid bitch! What in the
blazes do you think you’re doing?’

Panic gripped her as they approached the ground floor. What if
someone was waiting? What if the elevator stopped and the doors
suddenly opened and Emily fell out with the man on top of her, his
cock sticking out of his trousers; the uncouth brute dry humping
between Emily’s spread legs as they hit the ground in a clothed
heap of copulation. Tessa Clifford would have a field day. Emily
would have to resign with immediate effect. The humiliation would
haunt her till the day she died.

But the elevator didn’t stop. They went one level lower to a
depth Emily had only ever been to in her mind.

That mind was screaming
‘NO’
as the elevator came to a halt, but Emily
couldn’t help herself when the doors opened and the man pushed her
out into the poorly lit space of the basement. She stumbled into
the empty landing, frantically looking around for someone that
might save her. But the only face she saw was that of Her Nemesis
whose big cock was still lewdly sticking out of his trousers, hard
and throbbing, a righteous spear, terrifying with its delicious
threat. Emily stared at the phallus, awash with confusion: the need
for the man snarled at her loins; the voice of propriety screamed
in disgust. She looked around again, but she wasn’t sure why. Did
she want a saviour to protect her honour, or did she fear a spoiler
that would ruin the fun?

Unsure of herself, Emily looked back to the man’s face - the
grinning face that was full of certainty – there were no fears or
doubts plaguing his assertive psyche. He had promised Emily this,
and now it would happen. There were no questions in his mind – he
knew he had won, and that Emily was now his to use and abuse. But
that was something she needed to admit to – if only as a step on
the path to humility.

“So Blondie, I’m not going to force you,” he calmly said
having rescued the Chanel bag from where Emily had dropped it. “And
I’m not going to ask you again. We’ve played in the elevator long
enough. I’ve enjoyed the game and so have you. But now it’s time to
step up a gear. So let’s go to the changing room where I’ll fuck
you hard and dirty – fuck you up the ass, because you know that’s
what I want!”

Emily couldn’t bring herself to say anything in agreement. But
there was no way on God’s earth she was going to refuse, so she
meekly nodded her head in consent. The man’s handsome face, his
hunky build, and his beautiful erection so big and potent, all made
for a compelling argument when added to his sure authority and the
bad boy streak that was such a turn on. This was Her Nemesis and
there was no way Emily could resist the package.

Grunting in satisfaction at his easy victory, with her bag in
one hand, the man took her by the wrist with the other and dragged
Emily along the poorly lit space. Emily stumbled behind him,
struggling for balance on the three inch heels that normally she
wore so assuredly - the woman softly whimpering, but not raising
her voice to object. She had been promised such rough treatment
after all and it would have been a letdown in a way if the man had
been sweet and nice, sweeping Emily off her feet and carrying her
to the room to give her a tender loving fuck.

Striding manfully onwards, the man didn’t hold her all that
tightly – he knew there was no need. Emily could have easily freed
herself, but she made no effort – this was consensual, which made
it all the more shocking that the prim and proper Mrs. Johnson was
agreeing to it all. It was only when they got to the changing room
that the grip strengthened around Emily’s wrist and he pulled her
inside. He flicked on the switch and Emily quickly looked around as
her precious Chanel bag got tossed in a corner.

She was far from impressed!

The space was small and very unpleasant – it was no surprise
that few people came here or were even aware of its existence.
Illuminated by a harsh fluorescent light that annoyingly flickered
- there was a bench underneath some wall hooks for clothing, a
shower unit that looked grimy behind a frosted glass door, a
cracked mirror with washbasin beneath, a toilet that was open and
was undoubtedly revolting, and a urinal to the outside of it where
men had missed the mark. The place stank of masculinity run riot
without women – men’s sweat and their piss and God knows what
else.
The concrete floor was dirty and wet
– Emily shuddered to think what with.

Hardly the Savoy, but then Emily knew that already – her
expectations had been set in advance. Yet she still found it
disgusting – much more of a hovel that she had ever suspected. In a
knee jerk reaction, she wondered if this was a hideous mistake and
that perhaps she should yank herself free and run away. But she
made no such attempt. Instead Emily Johnson, P.A. to the boss,
allowed the man to push her against a wall.

Staring at her face, he pinned Emily with his chest pressing
against her heaving breasts – his cock once again grinding into her
groin. Then getting straight down to business, the man forced his
hand under Emily’s skirt, feeling his way up her soft inner thighs
until he found the swell of her puffy mound that was covered by a
lacy gusset.

It wasn’t moist – it was wet - drenched in her cunt juice!
Emily blushed, knowing what was there.

The man grunted out a laugh when he felt the arousal – the
confirmation of all that he’d suspected. She could rant and rave,
swear she wasn’t depraved, but that juicy little snatch told a
different story. The outwardly cold and frigid Mrs. Johnson wanted
this roughness and degradation – she wanted him – Her Nemesis, and
all the nasty retribution he might care to throw at her. A seed had
been planted in Emily’s fertile imagination and had grown with
plenty of nurture. Verbal filth was the nutrition fed, along with
hot sultry looks and confident assertion, and now the outcome was
going to be reaped.

The man groped at Emily’s puffy arousal, savouring his
domination. He went behind the gusset and found her naked sex –
bloated lips beneath a silky landing strip of blonde pubic hair
that Mrs Johnson had recently sculpted. She quivered as a finger
slipped inside and stroked the inner folds. A moan of bliss escaped
her throat and a tear of guilt welled in each of her eyes – her
only token to the shocking infidelity taking place.

“Yeah, Blondie,” the man growled, glorying in his conquest,
fingering her deeper to invade her vagina. “You want it, don’t you?
You want it real bad!”

Emily looked away unable to face him and admit to an answer,
but Her Nemesis tormentor was having none of that! With his other
hand he grabbed Emily’s fine featured chin and pulled her head
back, staring menacingly down.

“Well? Don’t you?”

“Yesss,” she hissed, hating herself and hating him, hating the
whole crazy world that had somehow become so deranged and had
turned her life upside down.

“Yeah, of course you do. But just in case there’s any
doubt...”