The Dark Library (9 page)

Instead she felt him pull her wrists back
behind her, and a moment later the now familiar feeling of cool
metal closed around them.

“Wh-what – ?”

The shackles locked tightly, and she had to
look up to reassure herself the other shackles were still there,
dangling from the wall. What then – ?

He spun her about again, and she staggered on
rubbery legs. Then he pushed down, and she could not resist,
sinking heavily to her knees on the cool, dark tiles.

His cock was bare, stiff, thrusting out of
his trousers, pointing directly at her face.

She moaned hungrily at the sight, and did not
need his hands in her hair, pulling her forward as she opened her
mouth wide to take him into her. She moaned heatedly, sucking on
the head, her tongue working eagerly as she rolled her eyes up
towards him.

Arrogant bastard, she thought, but it was a
weak thought surrounded by the banked fires of feverish hunger as
she sucked him deeper into her mouth.

“Naughty little slave girl,” he purred. “Time
to show your master why he should forgive you.”

God, he was thick! It wasn't like she'd had
an awful lot of experience, but his cock was far thicker than any
she'd had before, and a part of her revelled in that even as she
bobbed her lips up and down on it.

Her wrists remained locked behind her in
metal. So this was an unfamiliar sort of thing to her. Always
before, her oral sex included her hand squeezing the shaft as her
lips bobbed up and down on the head and the front part. Sometimes
she would rub at the balls, too, but now she could do nothing, and
in fact, could not even control the depths of his cock the way she
usually did. He was pumping slowly now, pushing his cock into her
mouth as he pulled forward on her hair.

“Little sex slave,” he growled. “Please your
lord and master, slave girl.”

He pulled at her hair, and though it hurt she
felt a wild, raw excitement at it. She moaned, writhing there
before him on her knees, hardly able to keep her hips still with
the burning between her legs.

He was practically fucking her mouth, she
thought with shocked, wicked excitement.

The fever flamed hotter, and she moaned
around his slick shaft as it slid in and out, and then her eyes
bulged as he pulled her forward, and she began to gag. The head of
his cock had pushed too deep, had pushed into the entrance of her
throat. Immediately, she thought it was a mistake, but he kept
pushing, and her eyes grew wider as he pulled her forward by the
hair even as he thrust forward with his hips.

His cock slid down her throat, inch after
inch of it, until, jerking and convulsing, she found her face
pressed against his groin.

She jerked convulsively, trying to draw back,
but he held her easily in place. Her bare knees scrabbled at the
floors and her wrists jerked against the shackles binding them
behind her, but he held her tightly as her initial panic began to
ebb.

Then she felt him pulling at her hair,
drawing her back, and she gurgled weakly as the fat cock slid back
up her throat and out. She had to fight her gag reflex, but then
coughed and gasped, saliva pouring over her lower lip and onto her
chest as she gulped in air. She was gasping and unable to speak as
he twisted his fingers again in her hair, rubbing his cock against
her face.

“Good slave girl,” he said as if pleased with
a pet. “We'll have you properly trained in no time.”

She was afraid he was going to shove his cock
down her throat again, but instead he pulled her forward and down,
settling her on her belly on the floor. He quickly moved behind
her, spreading her legs. Then she felt his hands on her hips,
jerking them upwards, high.

He slapped her bottom and tugged at her
hair.

“Into position, slave girl. Your master
intends to mount you like the little bitch in heat you are.”

He slapped her bottom again and she gasped at
the stinging blow.

“Spread your legs wider, slave. That's
it.”

Another slap struck her.
Crack!

Draw your knees forward more, slave.

Crack!

Wider. Forward and apart, slave!

Crack!

“Oww! Doon't!” she moaned.

And then his hand thrust in between her legs,
rubbing her in a way which made her voiceless, which cause her hips
to jerk and buck as he settled behind her.

Breasts pillowed out against the dark tiles,
mouth open, gasping, she felt his cock rubbing up and down along
her swollen sex, and then felt him push forward.

She moaned in helpless heat, her breasts
aching deliciously, drooling a bit still, onto the dark tiles as
she stared at the bars and pulled her wrists against the metal
shackles.

“Huuunghh!” she cried as his cock thrust deep
down into her belly.

What followed was unlike any lovemaking she
had ever experienced. In fact, it wasn't lovemaking at all. It was
fucking! He rode her like he'd promised, as though she were a bitch
in heat. He mounted her and rode her like an animal!

Gasping, crying out again and again, she
writhed and rolled her hips back to meet his harsh, animal thrusts,
her bottom aching, her insides bruised and battered, her mind
tumbling over and mover amid the howling winds of overheated
passion and pleasure.

“You love it, slut!” he exclaimed, slapping
her bottom. “You love having your master mount you!”

Another slap as his hips struck her, as his
cock speared her, as he jerked her back to meet his powerful
strokes and she hovered on the edge of meltdown.

The orgasm screamed through her body, and she
cried out in wild pleasure, eyes glazed as she thrust herself back
to meet him. And then she cried out in pain as she felt her hair
gripped in a tight, tangled mass and yanked up and back. The force
of the pull lifted her face and chest off the floor as a hand
thrust under her belly and a questing finger found her clit.

The orgasm... the only way she could think of
it afterward was that the orgasm had an orgasm. It redoubled and
she heard herself screaming at the intensity of the sensations
tearing through her even as her body shuddered to the savage
pounding of his hips against her buttocks.

He abandoned her hair, and her face almost
hit the floor, but instead he seized her shoulders, jerking back
again and again as his cock thrust deep into her quivering belly.
He rode her violently, as she twisted and writhed and convulsed
against him, and then, as the raw violence of the sensations
overwhelmed her and her consciousness threatened to flee, he came
himself, cursing as his thrusting hips went into overdrive.

Hannah didn't lose consciousness, but it was
a near thing. She was aware, but uncaring, of everything around her
even as he picked her up, heaved her over his shoulder like a bag
of potatoes, and carried her from the cell.

She was still shackled, a part of her
realized, but she was at least exiting the cell. She felt him
climbing the stairs – though not the ones she had come down, and
groaned weakly, still dazed by the power of the orgasm which had
blasted through her.

Up, and up, and around and up the stairs they
went, and only near the top did she start to get control of her
mind, start to think she ought to perhaps be set down. Yet
something felt oddly right about being carried like this, and she
made no protest even as he went through a doorway and into a more
brightly lit corridor.

Only when she became aware of where they were
– in one of the back hallways upstairs did she start to squirm. And
when they passed from that into one of the broad, open, luxuriously
furnished corridors she felt a start of anxiety that one of the
other – one of the servants would see her like this – naked, wrists
shackled together, draped across his shoulder.

“C-Carling!” she gasped, squirming.

She yelped as he slapped her bottom.

“That's Lord Carling, slave girl.”

“I-I'm not a slave girl,” she panted.

His arm was around her legs, but she felt his
other hand sliding in between her thighs and caressing her
extremely sensitive, overheated pussy.

“Oh! Oh don't!” she gasped, squirming at the
intensity of the sensations.

He slapped her bottom again and she yelped
and jerked in his arms.

“Don't tell your lord what to do, slave
girl,” he said.

“You're not my lord!” she exclaimed, staring
at his upside down back as she was carried along.

That brought another stinging slap to the
bottom, and she yelped again.

“Oww! Stop that!”

”Silence, slave.”

Crack!
Another slap to the bottom made
her gasp. Then he was carrying her through a large door and
slamming it closed behind.

He was impossibly aggravating! But she could
not deny the wild heat within her at being manhandled in this way,
at being carried bodily along naked and shackled, like a figure in
one of her medieval romances.

He flung her onto a very large, four-poster
bed, and she landed with a cry of surprise, gasping up at him as he
stood at the edge of the bed and peeled off his shirt. The
indignation she was about to express was briefly checked by the
realization he had a very nice, very attractive, very firmly
muscled chest and flat belly, and then by sight of him undoing his
belt and tugging it down along with his underwear.

Lord Carling looked very, very good
naked.

Well, she told herself indignantly, if she
had her own private gym and all the time she wanted she could have
lots of muscles too!

She gasped as he climbed into the bed, but
couldn't speak. She wanted to tell him to release her at once, to
not touch her, only... she couldn't.

He took her legs, jerking them wide apart,
then dropped atop her, his hand going immediately behind her head,
grasping her hair – again! - and jerking her lips up to meet his.
And then any words she might have said were completely lost as he
spent long minutes blocking her mouth with his. She felt his tongue
swirling and caressing her lips and tongue, and moaned weakly as
his other hand roamed her body.

He pulled his lips up at last, leaving her
gasping “Beg me,” he said with a smirk.

“Wh-what?” she gasped.

“Beg me to fuck you,” he said.

Her mouth opened in surprise, then
indignation.

“I shant!” she gasped.

He grinned arrogantly. “You shall.”

He dropped his head down low, growling as he
bit lightly along the nape of her neck, then he eased lower, his
lips circling her breasts, mouthing them, his tongue sliding around
and around her nipple before his lips enveloped it and began to
suck. His hands kneaded her breasts and caressed her body, and she
squirmed and moaned helplessly as his fingers found her clit and
began to stroke back and forth across it.

“Beg me,” he said, “Beg for it like a hot,
filthy whore.”

“Fu-fuck you!” she gasped.

He growled and she yelped as his mouth found
her belly and his teeth gnawed at her, then he was moving lower,
hands grasping her legs forcefully, pulling them farther apart as
his mouth moved down along her abdomen, and his tongue skimmed the
hot, damp flesh alongside her labia

His finger pushed into her, and then a second
joined it. She had already come several times, and didn't
understand how it was he was able to rouse her body so quickly, or
why the intensity of her arousal was so deep and powerful. A third
finger pushed into her, pumping in and out as he lapped at her
clit, and she could not keep still, her hips grinding, her back
arching, her head rolling back and down as the raw sexual heat
rolled through her body.

“Beg, slut,” he insisted.

“F-fuck off!' she panted dazedly.

He snorted, then drew himself up and back,
sitting on his heels. He gripped her body and yanked her around as
though she were weightless, dragging her up across his knees, belly
down, and then slapped her bottom sharply.

“Such impertinence cannot be accepted,” he
said. “You must needs apologize, you common scruff you.”

Crack!

“Oww!”

Crack!

“Oww! S-stop it!”

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

Hannah squirmed and yelped and twisted and
moaned to no avail as her bottom was stung again and again,
beginning to rapidly heat and redden.

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

“Oww! Bastard! Stop it!”

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

His hand paused, plunging between her thighs,
squeezing and caressing her pussy. Then he leaned forward, still
holding her on her belly across his thighs, and opened the night
table. Hannah could not see what he did, only hear, and then she
felt his hand forcing her thighs apart, and something pushing
against her hot, moist opening.

She groaned as it slid in, far too thick and
long to be his finger, and, gasping tried to twist her head around
and up and back to see what he was doing to her.

It was a dildo! She'd never had one but she
knew, of course, what they were, and gasped at the sight as well as
the feel of it as he slid it deep into her pussy. She wanted to
protest, but the sensation was simply too exciting, and this game
of his too darkly thrilling.

“Ohhh!” she gasped as he forced it deep,
achingly deep.

“Much better than that bottle of yours, eh,
Quinn, silly little commoner.”

Crack! Crack! Crack!

“Oww! Ahh! S-stop!” she gasped weakly.

She shuddered as he gripped the dildo,
pulling it in and out, in and out, twisting and turning it,
changing the angle. She groaned and gasped as the nose of the thing
jammed up into her belly, pushing and prodding against her insides
as he turned and twisted it.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

“Oww!” she cried.

“And what shall we do about this?” he asked
rhetorically.