Saturday 12 September 2009

Undone [erotic fiction]

I'm in total darkness.
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My hands are reaching outwards, and I'm feeling cold metal surrounding me, below me, above me.
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Have I been buried alive?
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The vibrato thunk of a metal drawer being opened. Light. The surface I lie on is moving forward.
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The bubble of silence bursts, the noise of a busy room floods over me. I am blinking, my eyes dilated, unused to the light. I look up at a woman dressed in a lab coat, who is staring at me with detachment. I feel abnormally calm, and I'm aware that I shouldn't be, but even that doesn't break the spell. A logical part of my mind concludes I've been drugged, but I don't react to that knowledge.

I become more aware of my surroundings, and realise that I'm lying on a mortuary slab. Am I dead then? I consider the prospect, but my heartbeat is still strong, if a little slow, my skin is still warm, and my limbs under my control, even if affected by a deep lethargy.

The lab technician is checking my body, taking my temperature and blood pressure. “You probably feel a little confused”, she says. “That's perfectly normal. We've given you something to keep you calm. What's the last thing you can remember?”

My voice is a little bit rusty as I murmur, “I was walking…the seafront, by the roadside on my way back…evening. Then, a car….pulled up and there was someone who…I don't remember”. “That's okay”, she soothes, “shhhh, shhh”.

I try to sit up but feel faint and dizzy. My heart speeds and I feel a little sick. The technician's cold but reassuringly strong hands press me back. Another woman walks through the door pushing a wheelchair, and I'm gently helped into it. I'm naked but covered with a blanket and I have a strange notion that I'm living my life backwards from death to hospital to coming back to health and life again. I'm wheeled down a corridor painted burgundy, and helped into a bed with soft red blankets and black silk sheets. I climb inside the coverings. I drift…

I wake feeling more alive. This time I come to consciousness gradually. The silk feels beautiful against my skin. I open my eyes. The room is carefully lit, soft and warm. I smell vanilla perfume in the air. The wooden panelled door opens with a soft click, and a dark haired woman, dressed in very high heels and a pencil skirt, seamed stockings immaculately arranged, walks over to the bed. She smiles and asks me to go with her, holding out a silk kimono in black, with green and red patterns. I pad, barefoot, behind her, along the corridor, the ancient and dark floorboards cold under my feet.

We enter an echoey chamber, windowless and darkly lit. A sunken pool is carved out of the natural cavern the room has been made from. I'm given into the care of two women, both handsome rather than beautiful, with unusually strong arms, long and strong fingers, and a matching air of practicality. They take off my kimono and I feel none of my normal shyness. There is no blush, no dropping of my head to my shoulder; instead I wait, calmly, as they explore my physique. They lead me to the water and I climb into the warm pool, sitting on a ledge with my legs splayed out in front of me. I close my eyes and tilt my head back, strong fingers soap me, lifting each heavy breast and firmly scrubbing away invisible layers of dirt, rubbing salt into even my nipples to take off the top layer of skin and reveal the clean, new and fresh body beneath. My arms are lifted above my head and I enjoy the sensation of being made new. My hair is unbound and washed, my scalp massaged, I am shaved o! f hair everywhere else.

A subtle shift in the atmosphere alerts me and my eyes open a little to see fingers lingering between my legs, the touch suddenly less firm, more tentative. One of the women continues to wash me but gives a warning glance to the other, whose fingers are touching so provocatively between my lips. Her expression is a combination of acceptance and pleading, but she draws her hand away. I am a little surprised as I see her own face glow red as she leans in to gently touch her lips to mine, barely connecting, just for a moment.

The other woman moves to lead me out of the water, and lays me down on a bed of fluffy towels. I am patted dry, my body gripped and liberated by hands which squeeze and release, then spread scented balm over my reddened skin. Again, hands linger between my legs as I lay face down, a teasing sensation which all too quickly disappears. My skin feels overly sensitised and little shivers go up and down me as I feel fingertips on my back. I open my eyes as I'm brought to my feet, and returned into the care of the dark haired lady who brought me to this sea green water room.

I am led naked down another dark and polished corridor, into a room with a brass plaque that marks it as 'Test Area'. Mahogany furniture and oriental rugs, cherry blossom paintings and silver candlesticks. A tall man with long dark hair, pinned back with a ribbon, stands with his back to me at a desk, then puts down the book in his hand and turns to face me. He lifts my hands to his lips and kisses them, and then pushes down on my shoulders to drop me to my knees. I am uncertain and feel the evenness of mind and drugged calm flicker, as my anticipation rises.

“I'm going to fuck your mouth, my dear”, he says. He sinks his fingers into my hair and pulls - hard. The pain is sharp and immediate. It distracts my mind from the sensations in my mouth and throat, as he fills me. I react automatically by relaxing my throat muscles and adjusting my head to the right angle to take him in more deeply. He begins to thrust, gently at first, still with his hands in my hair. My own hands instinctively begin to push at his hips, making a thorough effort to slap, pull, hit, force his body away from mine. He is far stronger than me and in a position where his weight gives him the advantage, I cannot win but I try anyway, my struggles only increasing his girth as they heighten the excitement for him. My own body is excited by the adrenaline and I feel wetness on my thighs and heat in my chest and on my cheeks. He cries out, and I suck…suck deeply and drink him in. I suffer the inevitable response of my body to the joy of being used in this way, my! own cries are lost in his flesh, only the shudders and my drenched thighs reveal my release.

He turns, and writes in his record book. The two handsome women from the water room enter, and restore my cleanliness to their satisfaction, while he writes, and writes, and writes.

Again I am given to the dark haired beauty in her tailored clothes. We walk..I am shaken…my hands tremble a little.

Another polished corridor, shining in the lamplight. Another room, much larger this time. I'm starting to feel huge surges of fear now, the drugs in my system breaking down. My mouth is dry although my pussy is wet again. A man sits in a red leather chesterfield armchair, his legs spread wide, and a cane balanced on his lap, held in both hands. I meet his eyes for only a moment before breaking eye contact and looking down. A flush covers my face immediately. I'm unsettled and don't know whether I want to run away from him or towards him. He holds out his hand and I am torn, before my body makes the choice for me, and my balance shifts, one leg swinging forward to be followed by the other, in small, jerky and reluctant steps. I still can't look at him, but he takes my small hand in his. I'm terrified. I burn for him.

He soothes me with soft strokes, pulling me so that I'm standing between his legs. He turns me and says in a soft voice, “lie across my lap”. He holds my shoulder down firmly as the first stroke of the cane hits. I cry out, a gasping cry that continues, panting anew at each stroke. I can't see but I feel the skin reddening, bruising, then bleeding as he works me. His cock is huge and hard beneath me and the touch of it feels so good, it's worth the momentary pain. I embrace the pain, it replaces the fear, remaking the shape of my mind into something better than it was before.

Once he's drawn first blood to his satisfaction, he stands up and tells me to kneel down. He holds my hands behind my back with one of his, and again, I feel his unflagging firmness against my cheek as I turn my head up towards his face in response to his command. I struggle a little and moan plaintively as he uses a riding crop on my breasts. Instant bruises unfold on my skin, the nipples burn, my mouth opens a little as I rub my lips and moan into his hardness. Welts are rising over both breasts, and he lifts me so that I'm standing facing him, as he reaches a hand to spank me. The pain is stunning, coming over the cane marks, but with each hand's caress I sigh and moan in sharp little breaths. I'm dizzy with the staggering pain, he's holding me on my feet, but he lets me drop to my knees as he sits back down on the chair.

He takes his cock out and lifts my chin. “Open up Lucy, open your mouth for me”. The beating has made me compliant, I only want to give him something wonderful, rather than struggle. He draws me in, and I take it all down without him needing to move his hips forward. I rock back and forth, his buttocks clench as he thrusts compulsively into my mouth, over and over and over again, my thighs are sticky with my excitement, and with blood.

Shockingly sudden, he stands and drags me by the hair to a table, bends me over, and fucks me without thought for style or technique, just fucking me, with his hugely swollen cock sliding inside me, the muscles of my pussy gripping him desperately tight, but so dripping wet as he pounds into me from behind. I panic and begin to fight back, which just causes him to pin my wrists down and fuck me even harder. I can feel his hips grinding and thrusting and shoving, causing an aching pain deep inside me, and a sharp pain on my buttocks as the beaten skin is freshly torn by his haste and need. He tears into my back with his fingernails, the skin violated, huge red lines drawn in blood and sweat. Tears fall from me, but I feel the muscles inside me grip him in a pulsing contraction which starts between my legs and spreads to wash throughout me. He lets out a wordless shout and his rhythm grows faster for a few moments, then gently slows.

He steps back and turns me to face him, spreads my legs and bends me back over the table as he covers me with his body. He kisses me as softly as his fucking was hard. I'm all undone.