Message-ID: <3540eli$9709011157@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.netusa.net/files/Authors/eli/www/erotica/assm/Year97/3540.txt> From: vortex@mis.net (absinthe) Subject: Caught Between the Scylla and Charibdes... Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-No-Archive: yes Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-ID: <3407adb6.1072971954@netnews.mis.net> I had an intense sexual experience. I doubt I can do it justice on paper. I haven’t done much of this. I’m merely a novice, an apprentice. It’s been a trip lately. I just dropped out of school; I don’t know what I’m looking for, but I doubt it’s things they would teach me of in college. I don’t want to go back to Cyrus, the young neurologist who fed me percodan. Let him find another unpaid prostitute to dress in Victoria’s Secret lingerie and drape across the furniture of his condominium. (I still have his Police CD’s.) I’m between a rock and a hard place. Some people go through unstable phases, but for me they run together and make up my life. I think it was evening. The sky was not quite black -- trapped between day and night. I was alone in my apartment, as I am now, surrounded by boxes. I may not move any time soon, but I’m ready to leave. I can see my destiny is sold. I’m expecting him. There was a knock at the door and I answered and then he forced the door all the way open, I think. He pushed me into the kitchen. Or, maybe I did invite him in. Anyway, I lost one of my pumps in the scuffle. He’s dressed like a burglar. He picks me up and seats me on the kitchen table and looked at me, like a doctor might look at a patient who had come in for a consultation. I’m wearing a white blouse with short sleeves and a pale linen skirt. I’m sitting with my legs crossed, my hands at my side, clutching the edge of the table. My remaining pump, which I am about to kick off, is made of matching linen and dangling from my foot. He looks down at my hands, staring at the ring around my finger. He seems angry. I hear the soft clatter of handcuffs as he brings them out and links my wrists together behind my back. I'm passive. For a moment I look into his eyes, which are like the deep blue sea; he is a maelstrom. He picks up a knife from a collection I keep displayed on the wall. I keep them sharp. He holds the knife in front of my face. I’m hypnotized. Just the sight of the metal so close and I start breathing faster. He then starts cutting the buttons off my silk blouse one by one and slowly opened the front staring at my skin which was also alabaster white. The blouse slipped down my arms, stopped by the handcuffs. I felt the scratchy presence of the blade along my cheek, running very gently along the line of my jaw and down to the base of my throat. I’m getting really turned on. He slides the blade down to the cleavage between my tits and down across my bra. He traces the tip of the knife lightly over my breast and stops at one of my nipples, which is visibly erect under the thick satin. I feel the knife cross my nipple very lightly over the satin. I feel my pussy starting to swell. I feel the blade as it lingers between my breasts underneath my bra which he cuts in two. He slides it back over my shoulders. He stares at my naked breasts. My nipples are rose pink and very hard right now. He’s kissing my neck and chin and I feel his gloved hands cupping my breasts, rubbing his thumbs across my nipples. I feel his gloved hands on my thighs, pushing my skirt up over my hips. I stare down at my stockings -- a sheer layer of white over my white legs. He stares down at my bush, which is light brown and neatly shaved. I spread my legs a little for him, feeling my pussy pressing into the cold table. I gasp as I feel him spread my cunt lips and stick his gloved finger inside of me. "Shh," he whispers, as he starts masturbating me first gently and then not so gently. He places his other hand behind my back on top of mine, which are still encased in the handcuffs. I feel cool leather on the backs of my hands. I feel like I’m about to come -- he doesn’t even go near my clit which is so sensitive I don’t even like having it touched. I feel myself grinding my hips on his hand as I’m about to climax and he eases me back on the table and removes his hand. Why the fuck did he stop? I raise myself up and start to speak and he smacks me hard across the side of the head, knocking me back to the table. The gloves are off. I stare at him, surprised. "You had something in your hair," he says. He pulls off my stockings. He’s dragging the knife along the insides of my thighs slowly, very slowly, almost caressing me with the blade -- it so arousing and I’m still so swollen. I want him to fuck me. He must not be using the blade side of the knife along my skin, because I could get cut. He wouldn’t cut me, would he? The knife slices open my skin. The pain takes me by surprise and I cry out before I think not to. "Shh." I stare down at the gash in the hollow between my hip and the top of my leg -- the blood wells up out of the cut and runs down the inside of my thigh. The initial sting which caught me by surprise is gone; it doesn’t hurt much now. Without warning, he quickly cuts me twice more, along my side and along my rib, and I stare down at the blood which drapes my skin like red ribbons. This time I make no sound. He’s bent over me, and I feel his tongue on my skin; he licks the blood. He presses the knife flat and I feel the metal pressing into my crotch. I knew he wouldn’t, but I felt like he would. I felt frightened. I felt my lower lip quiver. He kisses me, forcing his tongue into my mouth, and I can taste and smell the coppery scent of the blood. He’s running his hands all over my body now. I hear him unzip his jeans. He slides his erect cock into my pussy, which is bulging and really slick inside. "God, you’re tight," he growls.. He’s gripping my shoulders, fucking me hard. As I type I’m looking down at these bruises on my body trying to remember how I got them and I think it must have been in the transition from the table to the floor because somehow we wound up on the floor. It was helter skelter. He fucks me harder, ramming his cock in and out of me. He’s kissing me and pinching my nipples really hard. I wrap my legs around his waist feeling the coolness of his suede jacket against the insides of my thighs. We both thrash around and we’re smeared with blood like savages. I feel the handcuffs digging into my lower back and I feel the orgasm building up inside of me. I’m really wet now. I’m fucking him back, raising my hips off the floor. I feel my body tighten under his as I climax I shudder. I come really hard. He doesn’t give me a chance to recover. He grabs my arm and pulls me roughly to my feet. He turns me over. I’m face down, bent over the table, my ass cheeks spread wide, my tip toes touching the floor. "Nice ass, bitch," he says. He shoves his cock straight into my ass, with no preparation or anything. It’s rock hard. It hurts like a cast iron bitch. I twist and writhe on the table, in spite of myself, kicking my legs. My shrieks are muffled by his bare hand over my mouth. This calms me down. He starts sliding in and out of me fast and hard. This loosens me up; it usually does, and it starts to feel good. His hands grip my ass and he thrusts in and out of me really deep and really hard. He’s ramming his cock in and out of my ass and there’s so much friction. He’s tearing me up inside. It’s primal. "Fuck me harder," I begged. "Please, fuck me harder." He’s pulling my hair like a bridle as he rides me, fucking me harder and harder. I feel him come and I feel his warm jisem deep in my ass. He collapses on top of me. I close my eyes. I feel serene. Spent. When I open my eyes, he’s gone. Vanished. I really wish I understood what was going on. Give it what name you will Your joy, love, heart, your God. For me, I have no name To give it: feeling’s surely all. Names are but noise and smoke, Obscuring heavenly light. Goethe, Faust here comes the woman with the look in her eye raised on leather with flesh on her mind words as weapons sharper than knives makes you wonder how the other half die the devil inside the devil inside every single one of us the devil inside INXS -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ <URL:http://www.netusa.net/files/Authors/eli/www/erotica/assm/> .../assm/faq.html> /