The overhead lights burned to life and I surveyed my Chamber.
To one side was a group of steel chairs bolted to the floor, with chains and shackles. In the middle: six padded examination tables with leather straps, purchased from a clinic. They were arranged in a star pattern, the head of every table clustered around a single spot. On the far end: two side-by-side sinks, a large glass water tank seven feet long by four feet wide and a shower stall. Doors lined the Chamber, doors that let to six individual cells. Overhead was a system of motorized hooks, pulleys and tracks that could raise and lower, and move anything to nearly any spot in the Chamber.
The Chamber was underground, with concealed entrances to my living quarters and garage. Years ago it had been used as a bomb shelter by some paranoid survivalist. As such, it was not on any ground plans that anyone knew of. Only a very detailed search would reveal the passages.
The house was registered to John Hannibal. It wasn’t my birth name, but the name I felt most comfortable with.
My eyes fell upon her: my latest acquisition.
Silky red hair, almost auburn, fell well past her thin shoulders. Fine strands, straight and soft. High forehead and cheekbones. Thin lips. A slender swan-like neck, oh so delicate. And, although I couldn’t see them with her blindfold on, eyes that were a blue as vibrant as the sky.
She was chained to the one of the steel chairs on the west side, hands cuffed helplessly behind her back, wearing the tight golden skirt and white blouse that I had appropriated her in. Her shoes were discarded in the corner of the room. Her proud breasts, mounted high upon her chest, were thrust outward, stretching the material of her blouse. Her long, slender legs were clinched together in a vain effort to protect her from what was to come.
Clare Prescott was her name.
The first time I laid eyes upon her, I knew that I had to possess her. For days and weeks, I had watched her, dreamt of her and planned the taking of her. Now, everything had paid off: she was mine.
My gaze traveled up and down her body. Desire burned inside me. Anticipation flared. My cock twitched and grew.
Her head swiveled to look in my direction. The trails of the tears she had shed were visible on her cheeks beneath the blindfold. She had a pale look to her, but still, her beauty was enough to take my breath. I could see that she wanted to speak, but wisely, held her tongue.
After all, what could she say to me, now? What would make any difference about what was going to happen?
I approached and she shrank back at the sound of my steps. I circled her; reached out towards her head to touch those lovely strands.
She jerked back quickly.
Not as cool as she tried to appear, then.
I rested my hands on her shoulders and she sucked in a quick breath. She had such warmth in her flesh and vitality in her body. I could sense the promise of great pleasure in that body. Great and deep. And at the ultimate end, the pleasure would be even greater still.
I slid my padded Master’s Chair in front of her and sat.
“What do you want?” she asked, simply, finally.
“You, Claire,” I answered.
It was, after all, the simple truth. She had set me on this path. The path to carrying out all of my dreams, all of my fantasies. I had risked everything to steal her away from her life; her and the two other prizes I had claimed this night.
I could scarcely believe that she was real, that she was really here.
“Are you ready to fulfill my desires, Claire?”
She shook her head. “No, not that,” she muttered. “This isn’t happening…”
Reaching behind her, I freed her cuffed wrists from the chain. I quickly pulled her to kneel before me.
“No! No!” She struggled suddenly and I grabbed her hair, pulled her head back.
“Deny me and others will pay,” I whispered.
She tensed. “You don’t… you can’t have them, too?”
As I smirked, my eyes were drawn to two bound and helpless girls not more than ten feet away. Hanging from the ceiling, feet just off of the floor, their mouths were gagged and their wrists shackled. They were as nude as the day they were born. They were fine looking girls, tall and slender like their mother, sharing her beauty, if not her coloring.
The older one was a brunette. She had blue eyes filled with hate, eyes that never left me. The younger: a blonde with sea-green irises and a cheerleader’s body.
That one couldn’t meet my gaze.
“Heather? Hannah?” It was a mournful cry that ended in tears.
I kissed Claire’s cheek. I tasted her tears, savored their warmth and wetness.
I pulled her close. The head of my cock touched the bound redhead’s cheek and she jerked back. I pressed my cock to her lips.
“By all means, deny me. I’ll chain you back to the chair and take Hannah. You can listen to what I do to her from here.”
“What do you want?” Claire asked.
“Simple, elemental things, Mrs. Prescott. Your compliance. Your love. Your sweet lips around my cock.”
She paused, weighing options in her mind.
It was amusing: there were none.
“I recommend that you do what’s best for your daughters, Claire.”
The defiance fled from her and she placed her lips around my head, engulfed me in her glorious mouth. The warmth embraced half of my length. Her wet tongue moved on the underside of my cock and she sucked, forming a perfect vacuum with her sensual lips.
Clearly, she had some experience with cocksucking.
I gathered her hair in my hands, collecting the beautiful strands and caressing them softly. I folded them back behind her head and held them there. I liked her that way. She looked beautiful, mature, upper-class. The next time, I would pin her hair like that.
A rivulet of saliva slipped from the corner of Claire’s mouth and dripped onto her white blouse.
I pulled her head off of me, tilted it back and rubbed my wet cock all over her face and features. Spit bubbled out of her mouth; I caught some with my cock and spread it around her face.
“Use your lips,” I ordered.
She did as she was told, running her lips up and down the shaft, pursing them on the very tip and twisting them around with just the head in her mouth. Her face shined up at me.
She was trying to please me. And she was succeeding.
Pulling her up, I took her skull in my hands, pressing a thumb over each of her eyes. I pushed her down on my cock, thrusting deep. I heard her grunt as my grip tightened. I could feel her eyeballs. Too much more and I would blind her. I moved my hands to the sides of her head and squeezed as I thrust further, deeper.
She gagged, but I stifled it with a hard thrust that took her entire throat.
“Own it, bitch! Choke yourself!”
Desperately, she complied, screwing herself down on my cock, her head moving from side to side, twisting her lips around the base of my cock as she struggled to take even more.
The feeling was intense and when she tried to pull off, I held her there, at the farthest extent.
Claire retched and a flood of spit exploded on my dick. I pulled her off of me, moved her face beneath my cock and balls and watched the spit drip all over her lips, face and blouse. The wetness soaked though her blouse and I saw the outline of her breasts and nipples.
Having her bound before me like that, her blindfolded face on my dripping cock, her wet tits visible through her shirt, her legs stretching the material of her skirt, was almost more than I could bear.
I moved over top of her and thrust my thick cock back in her mouth. I deepthroated her, violently. She gagged, but I forced her through the discomfort and pain.
For long minutes of ecstasy, I pounded her throat. Then, I felt the burning.
I cried out as I came, and thrust down, as deep as I had ever been inside a woman’s throat. Claire swallowed, mouth working around my manhood as she struggled not to drown. I held her and watched her beautiful lips, luxuriating in the stimulation and power.
I desired more, to take her once and finally, to have her with me, forever. My cock pressed deeper inside. I watched her stretching mouth, felt her sucking lips. Her retch came from deep in her throat but had nowhere to go and ended as quickly as it began.
She struggled, tried to pull away, but I held her down. She was on the verge of unconsciousness. And I was on the edge of insanity.
I released my death-grip on her skull and the redheaded mother fell back, choking and gagging. Spittle and come flew from her lips. She coughed hard and gagged again. She tried to rise and I slapped her, throwing her back on her ass. She screamed. I grabbed her by the hair, slapped her again, harder. She thrashed, trying to escape and I held her tight. I shook her, violently, squeezing her throat, strangling her by her frail and delicate neck. I could snap it in a moment and she would be mine.
God, how I wanted her! I barely pulled myself back from the edge.
I dropped her on her knees. Her head hung between my legs as she gasped for breath. There was blood dripping from her lips, mixed with come and saliva, and marks on her throat.
I removed her blindfold, lifted her chin with my fingertips and stared into her terrified, blinking eyes. They were so blue, so beautiful. I could feel myself getting lost in them.
I could see the fear and pain in her eyes, as her vision cleared, and then the recognition and despair as her eyes flicked over my shoulder and saw what was behind me.
The two lean bodies of her daughters. She realized now that the two hanging girls had seen everything.
Claire jumped to her feet and tried to rush to them.
I caught her by the hair, pulled her back against my chest. I ripped her blouse and pulled it from her shoulders. Her breasts spilled out, firm orbs for a woman of her age, and I groped them, squeezed them. She flinched at my touch and I pulled her head back, kissed her neck as I squeezed.
My hand moved to her skirt and I tore it from her legs, let it drop in a puddle about her feet. I pushed her between her two daughters. I took up a control box; pressed the down button. A hook lowered with a mechanical hum. Claire struggled then, but I held her close.
I attached Claire’s cuffs to the hook and then pressed the up button. She rose into the air, suspended between her two daughters.
The look on Clare’s face changed, as if she finally realized that there was no way out of her predicament.
“Please, I have money,” the redhead said.
“I know that you do,” I replied. “Your father is a very wealthy businessman; your husband, even more so. He’d have to be to possess a woman as fine as you. I heard that he was running for congress this year. I also heard a rumor that he was in bed with the mob...”
I paused for a moment and watched, as she looked away.
“Rest assured that the police are out looking for you, as we speak. I know; I’m monitoring them. They may even find you, with all the federal assistance they’re getting. I don’t think it’s likely, but I’m not foolish enough to believe that I’m invincible or infallible.”
“I know you’re not stupid,” she said. “I can get you a bank transfer. Untraceable.”
“Nothing is untraceable,” I interjected.
“Yes, it is,” she insisted. “It’s a numbered account. And only I have the account number. Not even my husband knows about it. Let my daughters go and I’ll give it to you. You’ll be able to disappear, live well and long.”
I admired the way she kept her voice steady. It was soothing. Another man, she might have been able to talk around.
She must know that I was going to kill her. They had all seen my face and I couldn’t let them go. Why this play, then? It wasn’t sheer desperation. She was too cool about it.
“Then give it to me,” I said, quietly.
“After...” she whispered.
I stepped to Hannah, grabbed her toned legs and spread them. My cock went inside like sword thrust. She screamed through her gag, more agonized then I had expected.
Perhaps she was a virgin.
Another thrust, another scream. Another and she yelped.
Distantly, I could hear Claire yelling.
Gradually, Hannah’s screams faded away as I took her, to be replaced by deep, passionate moans. I could feel myself tightening in the girl, another orgasm building. I grabbed at the hook control. I lowered the blonde girl to her knees and tore the gag from her face.
My cock went to her virgin mouth, pressed past her lips in one swift thrust and took her wet throat. I pumped her full, as I had done with her mother.
I dropped the girl. She sagged to the floor, with only the hook to hold her up, coughing and retching, come bubbling up and dripping to the floor.
I stepped back to Claire.
“Alright, it’s after,” I said.
I made sure the girls were secured for the night and left with the account number and password that Claire gave me. Of course, I would have to be cautious. She had only given me the number because she believed the authorities could trace what I did with it and find me.
And come to rescue her and her daughters.
However, I had an acquaintance who could work wonders with such information. If I was lucky I could get seventy or eighty percent of the value of Mrs. Prescott’s secret account.
Chapter Two - Tales of the Tank
The heavy whirring sound halted.
Heather was in perfect position. She hung by her ankles, from a pulley, head at crotch level, arms chained to her sides. Her long dark hair hung down in a ponytail, almost even with the water level in the glass tank. A couple of feet over and down and her head would be submerged.
At either end of the tank knelt Claire and Hannah bound and chained to steel rings inset into the floor. It would be amusing for them to watch.
All three of the lovely ladies wore metal ring-gags that forced their mouths in a perpetual O-shape: open and ready for the taking.
I stepped up to the struggling Heather, grabbed her ponytail and pulled her head towards my cock. She thrashed, deliciously, as I forced my cock between her teeth and slid into her pure mouth.
I sighed in ecstasy. Nothing was quite like facefucking a girl in that position. My cock slid into her throat effortlessly.
My other hand moved to her neck and I squeezed it as I pistoned my cock in and out of her mouth, brutally, savagely throatfucking her. A long thrust and the hand on the back of her head pressed her down on my cock, holding her. I could feel her tongue moving, throat muscles contracting, squeezing me and trying to push me out. The muscles in her jaws worked as she tried to bite.
Yes. The tightness in her was bringing me close, already.
I pulled back and she gasped, explosively, spit dripping from her lips. I watched the spit roll down the brunette’s face to her nose and eyes. I slapped my cock on her face, pressed the tip into her eye.
I grabbed the lift control. A quick press of the button and Heather was in position.
“Well, let’s get started, shall we?” I said.
I removed the gag from Heather’s mouth. She spit as it came out.
“You son of a bitch!” she yelled. “I’m going to fucking kill you! You have no idea who my father is. A word from me and you would disappear forever.”
This was interesting. I stepped closer to her.
“Tell me more,” I said.
“He knows people,” she said. “Some of them have killed people, before.”
“Would it surprise you to learn that I’ve done the same?”
“Who? Helpless girls?” she asked. She had cooled for a few seconds and was now regretting her words.
“And others that were not so helpless.”
I stepped back from Heather and stood to address Hannah.
“I’ll make the game simple for you, little one,” I said. “You get me off with your mouth as quickly as you can and we’ll see if your sister makes it.”
I grabbed the control and lowered Heather into the tank until her head was submerged. She had time for one quick scream before she was forced to hold her breath.
Hannah looked up at me, shock on her face.
“Tick, tock,” I said.
She quickly attacked my cock.
Hannah was a young girl without the training of a full woman, but the desperation to save her sister made up for it.
She took me inside. Her tongue moved on the underside of my manhood, slathering around in a wet, pleasant way. I rubbed her hair with my free hand. She had such nice hair, almost at beautiful as her mother’s.
“Is your sister a swimmer?” I asked the bound girl. “Good swimmers can sometimes manage three and a half minutes. Most people can’t last more than 60 seconds... Throatfucking yourself might help me get off faster.”
She sped up, taking me deeper.
Tears rolled from the corners of her eyes. Tears of pain or tears of strain, I couldn’t tell. She pulled back for a breath.
“How selfish of you,” I chided her, “when your poor sister has no breath of her own.”
Heather was struggling in the tank. She wouldn’t make it another 10 seconds.
I depressed the ‘up’ button and she rose above the waterline: spitting, gasping and cursing at me.
“Let me show you how to throat it, girl,” I said to Hannah.
I grabbed Hannah’s head and thrust her down, taking her throat in one swift motion. I twisted her head, feeling the tightness. I pulled out and thrust back in, forcefully, throatraping her girlish head. My hands tightened in her thin, blonde hair. I pulled out, long enough for her to take a single desperate breath, and then shoved back in a third time, holding her with tight hands.
She dripped spit when my dick finally came out. I rubbed it all over her face.
“Close...” I moaned. “Let’s try one more time.”
I lowered Heather’s head back in the tank and this time Hannah thrust her face down on my cock with wild insanity, slapping her head down on my hard cock until, with each desperate thrust, her lips clamped the base of my cock, engulfing the entire length in her young mouth and throat.
That was it. My hand went to the back of her slender neck and I held her as I came down her stuffed throat, crying out in ecstasy as I blew my load into her youthful stomach.
My other hand found the control and I pressed the ‘up’ button, still holding Hannah to my crotch.
Heather came to the surface: choking, coughing and spitting. She cursed at me again, but I ignored her.
I had eyes only for the blonde fucktoy impaled on my cock. With my come in her throat and my cock blocking the entrance, it was impossible for Hannah to breathe and she was starting to panic. Still, I held her. The mental and physical pleasure I was taking from her situation was enormous.
“Open your eyes, baby, and watch me while you pass out on my cock.”
She did and I saw the pain and panic in her tear-stained eyes. Her sucking was violent and primal, as was my lust. She shuttered once and was still. I held her down for a few more seconds, savoring the wild feel of her youthful, unconscious throat before letting the abused daughter drop to the floor in a heap.
I lowered Heather to the floor, unlatched her and set her on her feet.
Heather looked at her disheveled sister on the floor.
“You son of a bitch,” she said quietly. “I’ll kill you for that.”
My fist caught her in the gut and she doubled up. I grabbed her ponytail, bent her over the tank and plunged her head back inside. She bubbled out most of her air in a single gasp.
My cock found her cunt and I plunged inside, taking her with swift strokes. I wrenched her head back and gave her a few breaths.
“Ah, ah, ah... god, please,” she mumbled, her voice cracking.
I pulled her head back. “Please what?” I asked. Our faces were close. I tasted her tears, her lips.
“Please kill me,” she whispered, like a prayer.
“Before the night is over, honey,” I whispered back, “I will.”
For several minutes I fucked her, plunging her head underwater while I took her womanhood. There was a sharp and surprising squeeze of her cunt as she came on my cock. I pulled her from the tank and kissed her gasping lips.
I pulled her over to Claire and bent her over the tank so that her mother was between her legs.
I pointed my cock at Claire’s tear-stained face. “Suck me while I give your daughter another drink, bitch.”
I plunged Heather back under and held her as I felt Mrs. Prescott’s mouth on my engorged cock.
“Deep,” I ordered. The mouth on my cock struggled to comply, pushing to take me all the way. As I kept the daughter down with one hand, my other hand held her mother on me.
Oh, god! I had two lives in my hands. I luxuriated in the feeling. I could take them both, right now.
I held Claire’s graceful head down, feeling the soft, wet strength of her throat muscles. She moaned and I closed my eyes.
Suddenly, I felt Heather’s struggling cease.
I released the mother and she pulled off my cock, gasping.
I pulled the limp, drowned girl out of the tank. Water drained from her lips and she was unmoving. I dropped her to the floor in front of her horrified mother. I straddled her, rubbed my cock on her unmoving lips and face. The tip went between her lips and I thrust deep into the girl’s mouth. Water shot out around my cock, and she twitched. I removed my cock from her mouth and she coughed: a deep and hacking sound. I rolled her over and she coughed again, water bubbling from her lips.
I pulled Heather to her knees and shackled her to a floor-ring.
Unchaining Claire, I pulled her roughly to her feet. I kissed her once, then removed her ring-gag.
“Stop, please!” she cried. “I’ll give you what you want!”
“This is what I want!”
Before she could say another word, I thrust her head into the tank. I slid into her from behind and ravaged her while her submerged head bubbled and her legs kicked.
Sixty seconds later, I pulled her up.
I repeated the process a few more times, pounding into her wet snatch as I tortured her. I pulled the redheaded mother out, watched as her breasts heaved with exertion.
She was spent, done. I dropped her.
Claire fell to the floor, soaked and sobbing.
I reached down and unchained Heather. She tried weakly to struggle against me, but she was exhausted. And cold, so cold. I pulled her close, kissed the warm tears on her cheek.
“Just one more time and it’s over, baby,” I whispered to her.
I twisted Heather’s wet ponytail around my fist.
I pushed her into the tank for the last time, held her down as I took her from behind. My cock tore into her, thrusting deep and holding. I sped up and pounded her like a jackhammer, desperate to come inside her. She thrashed beneath me, bubbles exploding from her lips. Her cunt contracted like it did before, wild and frenzied.
Her thrashing slowed and she went limp, her death contractions fading away on my cock. I fucked her for another couple of minutes before I cried out and came violently in her pussy.
I let her go and stepped back.
Heather laid there, draped over the side, half in and half out of the tank. I pushed her in. Her corpse sank to the bottom of the tank: its mouth open, skin turned pale and sightless eyes staring. My come oozing out into the water.
Claire was sobbing, her head to the cold floor.
I stepped over to her and grabbed her chin, raised her head so that I could look into her pretty eyes.
“One daughter defiled, another drowned,” I said. “It’s been a pretty good night, already. Wouldn’t you agree, Mrs. Prescott?”
Chapter Three - Dreams of Lust and Violation
Hannah woke as I lowered myself on top of her. She was strapped to one of my examination tables.
With frenzied fucking motions, I took her, feeling the depths of her.
Long minutes later, I emptied my balls into her tight cunt. Her mother, strapped beside her, was a silent witness.
I climbed onto Claire and wiped my come and Hannah’s pussy juice on her pretty face. Moving down, I entered her, thrusting hard and deep. She too received a load in her snatch.
I relaxed and suckled on Claire’s tits until I recovered.
Unstrapping the mother and daughter, I took them to the shower stall. I threw Hannah to the floor; pushed Claire’s face to the steaming glass and entered her ass. She cried out, through the ring-gag, at the violation.
I pounded into her bowels, slamming her face into the glass. Minutes later, we screamed together, as I came.
I dropped her, kicked her in the ribs and picked up her daughter. Crushing Hannah against the glass, I rammed my cock up her ass. God, she was tight! A few thrusts and I went all the way inside.
I grabbed her hair as I violated her. I kissed her shoulders and bit her neck.
Suddenly, I felt movement at my feet. It was Claire, struggling to get up. I kicked her in the face, sending her back to the tiles. She didn’t move again, but I could see her tits shaking as she sobbed.
I continued ass-fucking Hannah until my cock burst and I filled her. I ripped the ring-gag off of her and kissed her mouth, hungrily.
My fingers tangled in Claire’s hair, as I pulled her to her knees.
“Kneel beside your mother, cunt,” I ordered the blonde girl.
She obediently dropped to her knees, as I slammed my cock home into her mother’s waiting throat. I thrust down deep and held her tight.
“Watch me, little clit,” I said to Hannah.
I violated Claire in front of Hannah’s eyes. All control left me and I became a lustful animal, desiring unending release. I was suddenly aware of the choking, moaning sounds at my cock.
Claire’s face was red with strain and she was on the verge.
“FUCK YOU, MOTHER CUNT,” I hissed. I held her down and choked her unconscious with my cock.
Still my release would not come. I had ejaculated too many times this morning, but my lust would be satisfied again, one way or the other. I let the redheaded mother slide off of my cock and drop to the floor of the stall. Her body splashed into the water, crumpled and unconscious.
I pulled Hannah to me, by the hair.
“One more time,” I told her. “I’m almost there. Your mother almost finished me.”
She cringed away from me.
“Don’t worry, honey,” I cooed to her. “This is the final blowjob that you will ever have to give.”
“Please, no!” Hannah cried.
“It’s too bad that you can’t say farewell to your mother.”
“Nooo... I’ll do anything! Please!” she screamed. She clutched at my legs, begging. It was a beautiful sight.
“And what will you do if I let you live?” I asked.
“Anything you want, I swear!”
I looked at her, weeping before me, and weighed my options. She was just a girl, too weak to fight me, too young to really disobey. She looked up at me, awaiting my decision, tears glistening on her face.
It gave me a truly godlike feeling. I looked at the ring-gag for a moment and then fastened it about her head.
She cried again, but didn’t struggle. It wasn’t in her nature to fight. She was like her mother in that.
I thrust inside with a single deep stroke, all the way to the bottom of her throat. I held her to me, felt her warmth envelop me. She moaned deeply and her tears ran down her face. I could feel them on my groin. One trickled down the corner of her eye and nose and joined her mother’s spit on my cock.
“Hannah,” I said breathlessly. “Hannah, look at me!”
She struggled to open her beautiful green eyes and after a few moments of blinking, they latched onto me. I saw sadness in them and knowledge of the inevitable end.
Suddenly, she started sucking, sucking for air that wasn’t there. This was always the best part. No blowjob was ever as good as the primal desperation of a woman longing for oxygen. It was as if she wanted to drain me, as if she thought that she might be able to breathe my come.
I watched Hannah’s face with fascination, as she closed her eyes and let the nothingness take her.
The fabulous sucking sensation faded as the more erotic knowledge of what I had done crystalized in my mind.
I cried out and came in her throat.
Chapter Four - The Last Gasp of Claire Prescott
I entered my Chamber, nude, and stepped up to Claire.
As always, she hung there, head sagging, toes barely touching the floor. Her prominent breasts hung as well, lush and ripe. She was no child, but a mature woman just entering the first years of her decline.
“She’s gone, isn’t she?” Claire asked.
I said nothing, my eyes fixed upon her.
“And you’re here to take me, too.”
“How does that make you feel?” I wondered aloud.
Her head rose to look at me.
“Glad that it will be over. You’ve taken so much away from me and you might as well take the rest. The sooner the better.”
I lowered her to the floor. I removed her restraints.
I motioned her to the toilet where I had her relieve herself completely. We entered the shower stall. I scrubbed her body and shampooed her hair. Afterwards, she glistened like a goddess.
I dried her and set her on a chair.
I took something from a cabinet and walked back to Claire, my hands clasped behind my back.
She looked up at me, trying to discern what I held behind my back.
Slowly, I rounded her. My shoulder brushed against her, lightly. She shuttered, suddenly fearful of what was to come.
“Face forward,” I ordered.
She did as I commanded.
I raised my hands to her head and brought them down. I slid the bristles of the hairbrush through Claire’s beautiful auburn mane, straightening it, working out the tangles until it was lush and shining. Soft.
I took a bag from a cabinet. Threw it to her.
She opened the bag.
Inside was a woman’s suit. Red jacket and skirt. White blouse. A bra, panties and hose. High heels. There was a small makeup kit and a crimson lipstick. A pair of large emerald earrings she had worn when I abducted her. Her diamond wedding ring.
My dick grew hard as she dressed. I watched as she applied the makeup. She slid the lipstick around her lips, expertly, not a tremble in her hands. She puckered her lips. She fastened on the earrings…
Finally, she slid the wedding ring on her finger.
She looked perfect. Mine for the taking.
“This way,” I said.
As we got to the door, I stopped her. Cuffed her slender wrists behind her back.
I took her through my hidden passage, the same way I had brought her in, unconscious, several days ago, and into my bedroom.
I motioned her to sit on the bed and she did.
Claire looked at me, brilliant in her red outfit.
I wore nothing. I was close to her, my cock at eye-level. I felt a tingle of excitement. I was nude and she was clothed, but I was in control. I pressed my cock to her face.
My lady understood. She took me between her lips, without hesitation and my member slid down her throat. Soft like silk and wet with her spit, her warm pursed lips brought me to instant rigidity. She moaned deeply, her red lips working intently to pleasure me.
In and out I went, rhythmically, my cock growing harder with each stroke past her smooth lips. Spit build up at the corners of her mouth.
I pulled my cock from her lips and a long line of saliva dripped onto the carpet.
“Lay back, my lady,” I said, lovingly.
She took a deep breath to steady her nerves and rolled to the center of the bed, arms pinned beneath her back.
I climbed onto the bed. I straddled Claire’s head. I stared at her beneath my cock, stared at her for a long moment.
She was terrified, but accepting, eyes wide and on me. I was her whole universe, now. I was everything. How and when she perished was my whim, my choice, my desire.
Slowly, I rubbed my engorged cock about her face. I felt harder and larger then I had ever been.
I brushed a lock of hair away from her eyes.
“Are you ready, my love?” I asked her, softly, while caressing her cheek.
“I want to be with my sweet Hannah,” she said, as her first tear of the day rolled down her cheek to my fingertips. “Do it, you sick fuck.”
I smiled. She knew exactly how to arouse me.
I affixed the ring-gag about her head, sliding it into place and making sure it was just perfect. I pulled her beautiful red hair out from beneath her, over one shoulder. I tied the silky strands into a knot, high at the base of her neck. Another knot was tied into the tip.
Claire looked at me, confusion on her face, showing through the mix of her last emotions.
I twisted the red strands around her frail neck.
Her eyes went wide as comprehension came.
I thrust into her mouth, hard, putting the entire length of cock inside her frail neck, down her slender throat. I pulled at the garrote of her hair, tightening it, choking off all breath. My cock pressed her head to the pillow and I skullfucked her with all the strength in me, plunging deep into her helpless throat.
I grabbed her auburn hair and pulled her to the headboard. Thrusting in hard, I rapidly slammed her head against the dense wood, matching the crack of her head with the slap of my balls against her sexy chin.
I braced her head with my left hand, strangled her with the auburn rope clenched in my right.
She didn’t fight it at all.
I expected her legs to kick, but she was still. Her only movements were the glorious tightening of her mouth and throat and the blinking of her eyelids as her skull cracked again and again against the headboard.
I pulled on her hair, harder.
Her lips tightened on me, trying to suck in air. I knew that if she could control herself, she would go quietly, peacefully. But the body struggles to live even if the will does not.
I thrust in further, deeper; held my cock down her throat. I pulled at her hair, again. I could feel the tightening of it, around my cock. It drove me to climax and I came. My seed filled her throat and bubbled up from her lips.
She choked around my cock, drowning in my come.
Ecstasy struck. And the realization that all that was left was to end her. I pulled hard on her hair: a mighty heave that produced a sharp crack.
Claire Prescott looked up at me, love in her eyes, as she gasped one last time on my cock. And then she was staring at nothing but oblivion.
I held her for several minutes, as I came down from my high. My fist was still tight on the knot of her hair.
From my bedside nightstand, I took a knife. Slowly, I rubbed the razor-sharp blade down her face... over her sightless eyes... across her nose... past her come-covered lips... down to her neck...
The blade cut and I held the auburn ponytail in my hand. It was as if I could feel her inside it. It was all I had left of her, now.
Well, almost all.
I stood and walked to my bathroom, pushed the door open to reveal the bound blonde-haired girl. Hannah looked up at me with wet eyes, her face twisted in a rictus of emotional agony.
A small monitor was before her, showing the broken doll of her mother.
“Did you see that, baby? Did you see what she did, hear what she said? Did you watch her, all the way to the end? She was fabulous. I never dreamed I would have a fuck like her.”
Hannah looked at me, eyes alight with terror.
Sweet Hannah. I liked the girl. I really did. She was a true survivor, coming back from the brink like that.
I pulled her to her knees and thrust my cock in, all the way down her throat.
“She’s still there, baby,” I moaned. “On my cock! Your mother’s spit and her last fucking breath! Take my cock, my young love! And when you’re done we’ll visit that corpse you call a mother and you can suck your master’s come from her murdered fucking lips!”
I raised the ponytail to my nose and smelled the smell of my sweet Claire, as I throatfucked her last daughter.