In the night sky far above the lighted ceiling of Penn Station’s main concourse, thunderclouds gathered in the New York City sky. Even on a good night it was next to impossible to see a star, but the encroaching storm blackened the Manhattan night. Neon signs stood out in brilliant relief against the rumbling grey darkness.
A story and a half below street level, the brown concrete of the platforms vibrated with the force of trains pulling into the station. Miles Pierson checked his watch, briefcase dangling in his grip. Forty past the hour of one. The train was two minutes early.
The Long Island lines usually weren’t this deserted, even on the other side of midnight, but this Friday had been exceptionally miserable. The sun hadn’t made one appearance from behind the heavy cloud cover, and it had drizzled off and on across the city for most of the day.
One of the ticket collectors nodded to Miles as he boarded the train. “Late night again, Mr. Pierson?”
“You know how it is, Derrick,” Miles said, giving the man a friendly smile. He worked late at the office often enough that he knew most of the staff on his line by name. Miles was a friendly, personable guy, the kind that people found easy to talk to. He whistled softly to himself as he wandered through the train, trying to find a quiet place to sit.
Normally, he would be eager to return to his home on the beach after such a long day at work. He hadn’t quite intended to stay at the office as late as he had, but the new sales report had just come in for the previous quarter, and he’d found it engrossing enough that he had only noticed the time when the security guard came around for midnight lockup. On this particular Friday, though, there was nothing waiting for him at home other than a small pile of dry cleaning and yesterday’s leftovers. Nothing to be eager about.
Most of the train cars were empty. The Port Jefferson line didn’t stop in many of the areas where young, partying college students lived - and even if it did, tonight was not the kind of night for standing in line outside the club. Miles tugged the cuffs of his suit jacket, resettling it over his broad shoulders, and pushed into the second car from the end.
The lights were on the fritz in this car, leaving patches of shadow across the seats. Miles’s blue-green eyes scanned the rows. There was a figure slumped against the window in one of the rows toward the back of the car.
Miles may have looked like an average, corporate employee, but as he identified the figure as a young woman, leaning against the window with her eyes closed and her breath puffing gently against the glass, something stirred deep in his chest. Aside from his corporate day job, Miles Pierson was a predator.
And the young woman sitting on the train registered as prey.
Miles didn’t approach her immediately. He took a seat across the aisle, a couple rows up from where she slept. She must have boarded this car as soon as the train pulled in and promptly gone to sleep. Her train ticket was wedged in the small metal strip on the top of the aisle seat, so that she wouldn’t have to wake up when the conductor came by to punch tickets.
An announcement echoed through the otherwise quiet train car, and they lurched into motion. The girl didn’t even twitch. Miles’s pulse sped up. Definitely prey.
Miles opened his briefcase and pulled out the day’s newspaper, folding it in eighths and pretending to occupy himself with the financial headlines. The hunt was on, and she didn’t even know it. The only sound was the rhythmic clacking of the car along the tracks, the thump of Miles’s blood pounding in his ears, and the intermittent soft shift of cloth as one or the other of them moved.
As they passed out of the tunnel and into the night, rain pattered on the roof of the train. The door between cars banged open, and Derrick clicked his hole punch as he entered the car. He punched the girl’s ticket, glanced at her, and then back at the ticket with his brows furrowed. He shook his head and moved on, waving off Miles’s frequent rider card. “I know I ain’t got to punch you, Mr. Pierson,” he said.
“What stop does the young lady get off at?” Miles asked.
“Port Jefferson - end of the line, just like you.”
Miles smiled at the train conductor. “I’ll make sure she wakes up and gets off when she’s supposed to,” he said.
“Thank you, Mr. Pierson. I do wish there was more New Yorkers like you in the city.” Derrick grinned, all white teeth in his dark face, and moved on to the next car.
As soon as the door banged shut after him, Miles opened his briefcase, put his paper away, and got up to move to the young woman’s row. He sat slowly and gently, not wanting to disturb the seat in case he woke her.
He needn’t have worried. Now that he was this close, he could smell alcohol on her sleeping breath. She was pale and blonde, her gently-curled hair spilling freely over her shoulders. Miles reached out, hardly daring to breathe, and tucked one of those curls behind an ear. He ran his finger over the swell of her cheek, the soft curve of her jaw. She didn’t move.
Miles let his breath out slowly and turned his attention to the purse she had tucked in against her side. It was a snap closure, easy for him to tease open and retrieve her wallet from inside.
Her name was Hannah Marquette. She had a Michigan license, with what was presumably her parents’ address listed, and a student ID for Stony Brook. Miles carefully replaced the wallet. She was more than likely a student at the business or radiology school out near Port Jefferson, and probably shared an apartment with one or more other students. Her cell phone wouldn’t help him - girls her age password-protected their electronics.
He drew his hands away from her purse and examined her clothes. She wore a short, tight skirt and a short, tight top. Miles couldn’t keep himself from trailing his fingers across the strip of soft skin exposed between the hem of her shirt and the waistband of her skirt. Once again, Hannah didn’t twitch. Her breath continued to puff across the window of the train.
Her shirt was low-cut, exposing the white curves of the tops of her breasts. Miles’s mouth watered. Possibilities spun out in his mind. He’d told Derrick he would make sure she got off at her stop - his stop. He could take her home, do it slowly and properly, make her scream-
But no, a student couldn’t live in Port Jefferson alone, not when the student’s parents were states away. She would have roommates; she would be missed. He needed to make her come to him.
Miles Pierson was a predator, and he was always prepared to encounter his prey. He looked up, ensuring that nobody else had entered the train compartment since Derrick left, and opened his briefcase again. This time, he pressed his fingers against the back seam, and the bottom of the briefcase opened up to reveal his toolbox - at least, the part he carried with him. This was not the first time Miles had encountered prey of opportunity, and it wouldn’t be the last.
He removed what he was looking for and shut the briefcase, setting it gently on the floor. Now was when it started to get tricky. Miles had to hope that the sheer quantity of alcohol the girl had consumed would keep her from waking up. He curled one hand around the soft, pale skin of her thigh and drew her legs gently apart. Her skirt rode up to expose lace-trimmed cotton panties, blue. Miles pressed the backs of his knuckles against her through her underwear.
Hannah moved sleepily, and Miles froze. Her lips parted, just a little, and she wiggled her hips on the seat. Her eyes never fluttered. She was still asleep, just responding to the stimulus. A smile curled across Miles’s lips, and he inched his fingers higher to the waistband of her underwear, hooking them inside the elastic and gently tugging the material down. It was slow going, teasing her panties down over the curve of her ass, but Miles eventually maneuvered them down low enough on her thighs to fully expose her to his gaze.
He spread the lips of her cunt apart, mouth watering as he glimpsed her pink, wet slit. He dipped one finger inside, slowly, and a short huff of breath escaped Hannah’s mouth. She didn’t know what was happening, consciously, but her body recognized pleasure and wanted it. Now more than ever Miles wanted her in his bed, spread out and tied down under his hands, forced to accept whatever he was willing to give to her pliant, yielding body.
Miles’s free hand closed around one of the objects he had taken from his briefcase. This one was a vibrating dildo with a flared base meant to keep it firmly seated inside the wearer. Miles had modified it with a wifi receiver, so that he could trigger it remotely from wherever he was. It wasn’t large - three inches long and barely two inches wide at the base - but Hannah would definitely notice it was there, once she was awake and coherent again.
Miles slowly teased another fingertip inside and spread them apart, exposing her wet hole. He licked his lips and eased the dildo inside, watching it sink into her body with little resistance. Her pussy swallowed it eagerly until the flared base rested against her outer lips. Such a wanton cunt. Miles wanted to press his tongue into it and lick until she came apart beneath him.
Patience, he thought, and picked up the second object. It was slim and metal, with black leather straps dangling from it. This would be harder than the dildo, but it was crucial to his plans. Carefully, he eased the chastity belt down the juncture of her thighs, lifting first one leg, then the other to wrap the straps firmly around her hips. He worked slowly, easing each strap across her skin, keeping his touch light and fleeting. Already her cunt felt wetter than it had when he first touched her, a product of the firm plastic inside of her. He reasoned that if the jolting of the train and his hands between her thighs hadn’t woken her, it was unlikely that this would.
Hannah stirred as he brought the straps around front, and he froze, his fingertips resting against her skin. Her head lolled back against the seat and she shifted. Miles moved with her as she adjusted, and she didn’t wake up. He smirked, snapping the finishing touch on his prize, a padlock engraved with the number of his latest prepaid burner phone. He pulled her panties back up her legs and the curve of her ass, then tugged her skirt back down.
That done, he resisted the urge to continue fondling his new toy and opened his briefcase one last time, removing a slip of paper. He wrote a brief note and tucked it into the left cup of her bra, right against the nipple where it would rub and chafe. Then he got up slowly and returned to his own seat, checking his watch. The entire operation had taken about fifteen minutes. They had another fifteen at least before the end of the line.
Time to see how good his new toy really was.
The vibrator had several settings, and was controlled from an app on his phone. Miles keyed in his password and brought up the interface. The ambient noise from the train was too much for him to hear the dildo switch on, but it had a rewarding effect on Hannah. Her lips parted further, until he could see her soft, pink tongue between her teeth, and her cheeks flushed. Miles turned up the intensity and watched her breath puff faster against the window, watched her writhe in her sleep.
Miles reached down to adjust himself in his slacks. She was lovely. Responsive. He dialed up the intensity to the highest setting and was rewarded by a soft, breathy noise from the girl, like the coo of a dove. His cock swelled in his pants, pressing against the seams, and he turned the vibrator off, taking deep breaths to contain himself. He would have her at his mercy soon enough.
For the rest of the ride he watched her with hooded eyes. The flush slowly receded from her pale cheeks, but her lips remained parted, her mouth hanging slightly open as she slept, blissfully unaware that she had been marked by a persistent, intelligent predator.
The train finally lurched into its final stop. He got up as Derrick entered the car and moved to Hannah’s row, shaking her shoulder gently. She was more thoroughly passed out than even he could have considered, as she only made a sleepy, protesting noise and tried to snuggle closer to the train window.
“Girls her age shouldn’t get so drunk,” Derrick said, shaking his head. “Good thing she found herself among decent folk, eh Mr. Pierson?”
“Good thing,” Miles said, leaning forward to collect Hannah into his arms. He stood slowly and nodded to Derrick, who handed him his briefcase. “I’ll make sure she gets home, wherever home is.”
“Good luck to you, Mr. Pierson. I better not see you on the midnight Monday train, too.”
“No worries,” Miles said, returning Derrick’s easy smile. “I’ve had enough late nights this week.” And with a new plaything to keep him occupied, he would have a reason to come home immediately after work.
Hannah’s head rested against his chest, her breathing soft and even. Miles’s pants felt tight at the thought that it would take her hours to realize she had been violated, that someone had exposed her intimately, someone had touched her without her permission.
He stepped off the train onto the platform, hunching over Hannah’s sleeping body to try to keep the rain off. He strode to the nearest covered bench, trying to figure out what he was going to do with her. He could take her now, but there was the small matter of her probably-existent roommates. He hadn’t seen anything with her address on it in her purse…
“Hannah?” Miles looked up at the new voice. It was another young woman, mousier than Hannah, with short dark hair, large glasses, and a round, perky face. The girl scowled at him. “Who are you? Some creep?”
“I’m sorry, I can see how it would look like that,” Miles said smoothly. “I believe your friend would have slept all the way back to the train yard if I hadn’t carried her off. She seems to have had a few too many.”
The brunette rolled her eyes. “Of course she has,” she said, disgusted. “Good thing I brought my car, as if I wouldn’t in weather like this… dumb midwest country bitch, doesn’t she know what can happen to her, passed out on the train?”
Miles said nothing, but stood to follow Hannah’s roommate back to the car. The girl grumbled the whole way, making him think that this was perhaps not the first time Hannah Marquette had been handed off to her roommate by a total stranger on a late weekend night. She yanked her passenger door open and Miles gently settled Hannah into the car, buckling her in.
The girl got into the driver’s seat and started the car. “Thanks for your help,” she said. “Sorry I called you a creep.”
“No need to apologize,” Miles said, reflecting that Hannah’s roommate had much better instincts than Hannah herself did. He shut the passenger door and waved as they drove away. It was only a matter of time, now.
He reached down and adjusted himself again, anticipation keeping him at least half-hard. His own car was not far away, and he smiled slowly to himself as he turned the key in the ignition. An excellent end to a very, very long day.
Saturday morning dawned grey and blustery. All that was left of the previous night’s rain was a wet mist, clinging to trees and windowpanes. It took most of the morning for the obscured sunlight to slant through the windows at the right angle to hit Hannah in the eyes. The clacking of computer keys was the first thing to reach her ears. Jackie was awake, or maybe had never gone to sleep. Hannah groaned.
“About time you woke up, drunk ass,” Jackie said acidly from her computer. “I had to retrieve you from a strange man on the train. Again.”
Hannah grumbled something under her breath, started to sit up, and froze.
There was something hard between her legs, and a feeling of fullness inside of her. “The fuck-” Hannah rolled out of bed with a thump and dashed for the bathroom.
“I keep telling you that you shouldn’t drink so much!” Jackie called after her as she slammed the bathroom door.
Hannah frantically pulled up her skirt, yanking down her underwear. The hardness she’d felt was a metal strip going from the swell of her pubic bone between her legs, covering her labia and the opening of her vagina. It was held around her thighs by thin, black leather that joined in the front, closed with a padlock. Hannah tugged, but she couldn’t get the contraption off. Her heart started to pound. There was something else - something she could feel inside of her, pressing against the inner walls of her pussy and filling her up. It felt good, satisfying in a way she didn’t want to admit.
It also made her need to pee, desperately, and she felt at the metal over her crotch. It at least had holes. She couldn’t help herself - whatever was inside her was pressing against her bladder. Hannah sat down hard on the toilet, staring at the padlock between her legs as she relieved herself.
Last night was a blur of lights, noise, and pattering rain. She concentrated, trying to remember details. The clicking of the conductor’s hole punch, the rocking of the train. Something else, something fleeting - light touches. Cologne, maybe? Hannah shook her head. She couldn’t remember. She groaned and put her head in her hands, flinching as something stabbed into her nipple.
She pulled down her bra and found a folded piece of paper. Her fingers trembled as she unfolded it, a sick feeling crawling its way into her gut. The handwriting on the paper was neat and slightly slanted, blocky, a man’s writing. It said:
If you tell anyone, the whole internet will know what a sweet, hot little cunt is between your legs. I have video.
“Oh god,” Hannah said, feeling bile rise in her throat. She spun around quickly, kneeling in front of the toilet and emptying her stomach of the remains of the liquor she’d drank the night before. Her head was spinning. Her breath started to get short. She’d been raped, violated on the train, in public, where anyone could have seen it happen. Worse, her cunt throbbed hotly around whatever was buried inside it. Every way she moved, it put pressure on her clit, sending jolts of pleasure through her thighs.
It was so wrong, and Hannah couldn’t help that it felt good. She spat, clearing her mouth, and brushed her teeth vigorously. What could she do? She didn’t even know who had done this to her. She couldn’t tell anyone, not if she didn’t want video of her being fondled - or whatever this mysterious man had done to her - to show up all over the internet.
She looked down at the metal contraption again, mouth trembling, and inspected the padlock. Something was engraved on it. Digits. A phone number.
Like a dog tag, she thought, and bit her lip against the surge of shame that moved through her. Worse than the shame was the tiny, secretive spark of squirmy pleasure in her gut. Something about being marked, being owned like this…
Hannah shook it away and stormed out of the bathroom to retrieve her phone.
“Did you have a good time, at least?” Jackie asked dryly.
“Sure,” Hannah said, distracted, not really paying attention to her roommate. She needed to go somewhere private to dial the number on the padlock. Jackie would look at her weird if she took her phone into the bathroom. The apartment they shared was the basement of a house, and their landlords let them store some of their stuff in the attic. That was as good a place as any not to be overheard. “I’ll right back,” she said, and left the apartment, quietly letting herself into her landlord’s place.
The couple was out, and Hannah was able to climb the stairs to the attic unseen. Every step made the metal rub against the juncture of her thighs, made her more aware of the hard thing inside. Once there, she yanked up her skirt again and frantically dialed the number etched into the padlock. Her hands started to sweat as the call rang on the other line.
After three rings, someone picked up on the other line. “Hannah,” the voice said. It was male, warm and smooth, and Hannah couldn’t help but shiver a little. The way he said her name was like a caress.
Hannah scowled. “How do you know my name? What did you do to me?”
The low chuckle on the other line did bad things between her legs. Hannah pressed her knees together, biting her tongue to keep any noise from escaping her. “My lovely dove, you should be more careful where you pass out drunk,” the man said. “I know your name because I went through your purse. As for what I did to you…” there was another chuckle. “I did nothing I didn’t know you would enjoy.”
As soon as he said it, whatever was stuffed inside Hannah’s vagina came to life, vibrating hard. Hannah let out a soft, breathy, “Oh!” without meaning to and writhed in place.
“You see?” he asked. “You have such a wet, wanton little cunt. It was practically begging me to be filled.”
“You’re sick,” Hannah said, teeth gritted. Lord help her, it felt good. Too good. Whatever he’d put inside of her was pressing against all the right places. “Stop, please, just- just stop.”
To her surprise, the vibration did stop, but Hannah’s sigh of relief stuck in her throat at the man’s next words. “I wouldn’t want you to come before I could see you fall apart,” he said. “You do want me to take the chastity belt off, don’t you?”
“You’ll never get it off without the key,” the man said, and then suddenly the vibration was back, even harder than before. “I can do this to you whenever I like. The receiver has a prodigious range. If you decline to come to me, I’ll simply have you at my mercy… whenever I like.”
“Stop!” Hannah said, throat closing on a sob. She was so close, so close, after being stuffed full all night and aching. Even if she hadn’t been awake for it, her body had accepted it without her.
The vibration stopped again. “You’ll receive a text with my address. Report me to the police, and you know what will happen. Do not mistake me - I have many resources at my disposal. I will not be caught. You will come to me.”
“No, don’t-” Hannah said, but the phone disconnected before she could finish her sentence. Almost as soon as the call hung up, the thing inside her started to vibrate again. It wasn’t as intense as it had been before, and she could only conclude that whatever dildo or vibrator the man had put inside her had several settings. He was playing with her, keeping her on the maddening edge of orgasm without letting her fall over. Hannah sat down, gasping, pressing her knees together and concentrating on not falling over that edge. Her body might think this felt good, but her mind knew it was wrong.
Her phone buzzed just as the vibration intensified. Hannah could do nothing for a moment but bite her lip, hard, riding it out until her tormentor backed off, dialing it back down to the lowest setting. She felt hot and heavy between her legs, the flesh throbbing. Hannah checked her phone with trembling fingers and mapped the address, head spinning. He didn’t live far - only a few blocks. She could walk there.
Hannah’s hand clenched around the phone. What was she thinking? She wasn’t going to go to him, she wasn’t going to let him win! Whatever video he had taken, surely it was obvious that she was passed out? What was the worst it could show?
Shame flooded through her again. She was actually thinking of letting him post that video. It couldn’t happen. What if someone she knew saw it? It wouldn’t be a threat unless her face was in it, and someone who had planned this much would have been careful to get her face-
Her train of thought stuttered to a halt as the vibrator buzzed intensely again, the highest setting yet. Hannah panted, leaning forward with her head propped on her knees, phone clutched in her hand. The phone buzzed again, and she looked at the text message.
A lump rose in Hannah’s throat. She didn’t have another choice. She had to go if she wanted this thing out of her. She punched the keys on her phone angrily, sending, ‘on my way’ as she got to her feet. A few seconds after she sent the message, the vibrator shut off again. She let out a slow, relieved breath. It seemed that the man would leave her be as she walked to his house. Hannah’s cheeks burned with shame as a thought popped into her head - it was a good thing he’d shut the vibrator off, because if he’d left it on she would have come all over herself before she got halfway there.
Hannah stomped down the stairs and slammed back into her apartment, yanking last night’s clothes off with her back to her roommate. Jackie didn’t look up or turn around - the girl was a recluse, and barely tolerated humanity in general and Hannah in specific. Hannah yanked on a pair of jeans, gritting her teeth as the tight denim made the vibrator press more firmly into her. She changed her bra and her shirt and pulled a brush through her hair. “I’m going out,” she said.
“Off to get some hair of the dog?” Jackie asked without looking up from her computer. “Don’t make me come get you from the train station again.”
“I won’t,” Hannah said shortly. She grabbed her purse and practically ran out of the apartment. She had to leave her own neighborhood and cross a main road to get to her tormentor’s house. The temptation to call the police made her fingers itch. They would be able to get her out of this contraption - they would have bolt cutters.
But no, how did Hannah know he wasn’t watching her? He lived so close. He could have been following her for weeks. He could be watching her right now. She swallowed, glancing nervously around the street as she walked, the vibrator pressing up against the sweet spots inside of her. Her cheeks felt like she had a permanent blush staining them, and her breath came rougher than it would if she had just been out for a walk.
Anger surged through her. Just because she’d been passed out, how was that any excuse for this kind of torture? Hannah resolved to find a way to get rid of that video and report this man to the police. She had to get him caught. This plan was too involved for her to be the first one. He’d done this to other girls, she was sure of it.
The neighborhood where the address was located was better off than Hannah’s, with larger homes. She could hear the surf and smell the ocean mist as she jogged down the block, biting her lip against the sensation of the vibrator, rubbing against her with every step.
Her steps slowed as she approached the address she’d been given. She checked it against her phone. Now was when she would see the face of the man who had done this to her. She bit the side of her tongue and marched up the driveway to the front door, trembling despite herself.
As soon as she knocked, the vibrator started up again on the lowest setting, making her squirm as the door swung open. She tried to glare, but probably ruined the effect with her bottom lip between her teeth and her hands twisting in the hem of her shirt.
She had expected a sweaty, fat man, the stereotypical basement dweller that every girl’s parents warned her against. She hadn’t expected him to be tall, or broad in the shoulders, or have such piercing eyes, blue-green like the ocean after a storm. His hair, greying at the temples, was full and brown, styled impeccably. His button-down shirt was stretched taut across a fit figure. Hannah’s mouth went dry. He smiled.
“Hannah, my lovely,” he said, reaching out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. Hannah flinched away from him, and his eyebrows knitted together in an expression like concern. Hannah wasn’t fooled. The only thing in his eyes was wicked hunger. “Come inside.”
Hannah hesitated, slowly putting one foot in front of the other. She had a sudden, terrible feeling that once she crossed the threshold, she would never return. She stood frozen in indecision, one foot poised above the doorway. Then the vibrator turned up and she gave an involuntary, whole-body shiver, glaring as she entered the house.
He shut the front door behind her, threw both deadbolts, and then was on her before she could move. He pushed one hand into her hair, yanking her head back and pinning her against the door with his weight. “Please,” Hannah said, struggling to get away from his grip, but it was like iron, and his body was like stone, muscular and unyielding.
“Lovely dove,” he whispered, his lips tickling the shell of her ear. “Don’t waste your breath begging me to let you go. You came to me. I own you, now.”
Hannah’s throat closed on a sob as he grabbed her wrist and wrenched her phone away from her. He kept her pinned the door with the grip on her hair and the weight of his body as he paged through the menus, pulling up her calendar, her planner, all her personal data. “Ah, your responsible roommate’s name is Jackie, I see,” he said. “If only she had trusted her instincts about me last night, you might not be here today. We’ll have to send her a text later to let her know you won’t be coming home tonight.”
That provoked another small sob, and Hannah shoved against him, struggling to get away. She whimpered and went still when the hand in her hair twisted, sending shooting pains across her scalp. “That won’t do,” the man said. “I knew you would need training - best for us to get started right away.”
He pulled her away from the door by the hair. Hannah staggered, her hands going to his wrist, trying to pry his hand away. He paid no attention to her efforts, pulling her along behind him like she was nothing. She struggled harder when she saw the bed and was rewarded with a sharp smack to her ass. Hannah sucked in a breath. The blow surprised her into stillness long enough for him to throw her down on the bed and straddle her hips.
She started to struggle again as he worked her shirt up over her head, and then harder when he unhooked her bra. It was like trying to throw a pile of bricks off her back. Her captor looked like he was in his mid-forties, but his grip was like iron. He leaned forward, pressing her down to the bed with his body weight. Hannah heard something jingle off to the side of the bed, and then he took her right wrist and wrenched her arm around behind her back. Something like cloth or leather closed around her wrist, and then she heard a sound like a crank being wound. As he grabbed her left wrist and repeated the treatment, Hannah pulled, and found that she could barely move her arm an inch before her shoulder protested.
The man’s weight left her back, but with her arms tied down the way they were, she couldn’t get the leverage to sit up. Hannah pushed, trying to get her knees underneath her, but he wrapped both hands around her ankles and yanked, undoing her jeans and pulling them down off her legs. “Please don’t,” Hannah gasped as he pulled her underwear off. Getting up on her knees gave her leverage, but with her pants off it also exposed her, put her ass up in the air and put her cunt on display.
Not like he hasn’t seen it before, she thought, and flushed dark red. It didn’t seem to matter that she laid prone against the bed - he put one hand on her hip and the other behind her thigh, shoving her up onto her knees and spreading them wide. “Stay like that,” he said, his broad palm cupping her ass.
Like hell I will, Hannah thought, and kicked out with her right leg. He caught her foot and shoved her leg back into position. She was rewarded for her small rebellion with another smack to her ass. She gasped and jerked away from the sting, but it was followed by another, and another.
“If you do not do as I say,” the man said, punctuating it with a hard slap to the inside of her thigh, “you will not enjoy this anywhere near as much as I will.”
“I’m not going to enjoy it anyway,” Hannah snapped.
She could hear the smirk in his voice. “Is that so?” he asked, and then the vibration inside of her intensified again, cranked up to its highest setting and left there. “I suppose I’ll just leave you to it, then.”
The bed dipped and rustled, and then Hannah was alone, cool air moving across her bare skin as she fought the sensation between her legs. She could feel an orgasm building in her, her breath coming shorter and her cheeks flushing hot. Fingertips brushed against her cheek and her eyes flew open. He was staring down at her, his gaze hungry and intent, watching her come apart in his bed. The thought made her shudder. Her eyes squeezed shut. She was so close, so-
The vibrator shut off as soon as she reached the precipice. Despite herself, Hannah let out a soft, “No!”
“Ah, and here I thought you didn’t want this.” The bed dipped again, and his hands returned to her body, running down her sides and over the curve of her ass, down the smooth skin of her thighs. “You will do as you’re told, and stay where I put you. Won’t you?” Hannah said nothing, and then let out a small, hurt noise when his palm crashed over her asscheek again. “You will, or I will keep you hovering at the edge and never let you come.”
Hannah’s heart thumped, and a hot tingle went down her spine. She’d been on the edge too long already. She wanted to come, if only to get it overwith. “I will,” she said quietly.
He smacked her on the ass again, and she yelped. “You will what?”
“I will do as I’m told, and I’ll stay where you put me,” Hannah said, miserable, her cheeks burning with shame.
“Good girl,” he said, stroking a gentle hand over her hair. It made something twist in her gut, something pleasurable, and Hannah buried her face in the bed. “None of that, now,” he said, and grabbed her chin firmly, turning her head so that her cheek lay against the bed. “I want to see your face.” She opened her eyes and glared helplessly, her cheeks bright red. He pushed her hair back behind her ear. “You liked it when I said that.”
Hannah squeezed her eyes shut and tried to shake her head. He spanked her again, the sound loud in the quiet room. “Yes!” she burst out, feeling like it had been dragged from her.
“Well, well,” he said, sounding pleased. “I knew you were going to be good. It didn’t take much, last night, to have you react. I knew you’d be sensitive, but I didn’t know you’d be submissive.”
Hannah kept her eyes closed and stayed silent. Hearing him talk about last night made her stomach turn, and even worse was the shame in knowing that he was right. She was submissive. She always had been submissive. If this had been her choice, her decision, she would have loved every second of being pinned down at his mercy. And yes, the praise felt good. It sent a jolt straight between her legs when he told her she was a good girl, and she hated it.
He leaned forward, pressing his hips against hers, and she could feel the hard line of his dick through his pants, nestled in the crack of her ass. She gasped in a shuddering breath and held perfectly still, not wanting to encourage him with even the barest hint of movement. His breath washed hot against her cheek. He nipped her ear playfully, his hands stroking over her body. He worked one hand in between her and the bed to cup her breast, running his soft fingertips over her nipple. Hannah shivered, her breath quickening, and he chuckled. “Lovely dove,” he said. “So beautiful. What do you want, Hannah?”
“Let me go,” Hannah whispered. “Please. I won’t tell anyone.”
“Oh, I know that,” he said, and pinched her nipple, rolling it between his fingers. Hannah bit her lip and trembled helplessly against the shocks of pleasure he was sending through her body. It wasn’t fair. “You won’t tell anyone what I do to you. This is for you and I alone, my dove. But I won’t be letting you go, and it isn’t often that I’ll ask you what you want. You shouldn’t waste the opportunity.”
“Oh god,” Hannah said, her eyes flying open as he licked into the shell of her ear. She gasped and squirmed, pressing back against him without meaning to, trying to get more or get away, she wasn’t even sure anymore.
“Good girl,” he breathed, right in her ear, and Hannah let out a helpless groan as heat and pleasure flooded through her. “Now, I will only ask you once more before I decide for you - what do you want, Hannah?”
“I-I-” Hannah stammered, still squirming in his grip. She couldn’t move much or she would risk really hurting herself, thanks to the way he had her bound with her arms behind her back.
“I’ll give you to the count of five, and then I’ll decide for you,” he said. He held still, letting her squirm and rub against him, taking his hand away from her breast. “Five.”
“I don’t- I can’t-” Hannah gasped. He turned on the vibrator again, which was completely unhelpful toward her effort to form coherent sentences. If she begged him to let her go again, there was no telling what he would do to her.
Hannah let out a wordless whine of protest, struggling against the bindings. She was not going to give him the satisfaction of begging for anything.
“Three,” he said, and dialed up the vibrator’s intensity. Hannah’s thighs shook, but she didn’t dare close her knees, didn’t dare do anything contrary to his orders. “Two-”
“I - I - I want to come,” she blurted, blushing.
He chuckled, and she blushed harder. “I’m sure you do,” he said. “You’ve had this inside of you all night.” He pressed his knuckles against the metal strip that held the vibrator inside her, putting pressure on her clit. She pressed her face into the bed and gasped for air. If he kept up that pressure-
The vibrator shut off. Hannah thrashed, whining, “I asked, I told you- ah!”
Her protests were cut off when he spanked her again, hard, on the back of her thigh. “I heard you,” he said. “I cannot abide a brat. You will come when I am ready, not when you are ready.” He punctuated it with another sharp slap.
Hannah gulped huge breaths of air as the spanking continued - sometimes hard, painful slaps, sometimes soft taps that felt more pleasurable than painful. She could feel the heat coming from her ass by the time he stopped, trailing his fingertips over the sensitized skin.
“What do you say, Hannah?” he asked.
Hannah closed her eyes. She couldn’t. She wasn’t going to do this. She had come here to find the blackmail he had on her and escape, not to writhe under his hand and whimper. His grip tightened on her ass, his fingers digging into her tender flesh, and she gasped, “I’m sorry!”
“Sir,” he said, not relenting in his grip.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Hannah whispered, hating that it made her ache inside.
He let go and stroked his hands over the backs of her thighs. “You’ll have to refresh my memory,” he said. “I don’t remember what you asked me for, after all.” Hannah stilled. After he’d just punished her for asking for the same thing twice? He must have guessed why she didn’t answer, because he chuckled. “It’s not a trick, my dove. I want to hear you beg me in that lovely voice.”
Of course he did. Hannah’s ass stung, but she was still teetering on the edge of orgasm. “I w- want to come.” Then, hastily, because she knew he would ask, “Sir. Please.”
“You can do better than that,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice.
God help her, it made her want to do better. “Please sir, please, may I come?”
His hands felt cool on her fevered skin. “Come, then, if you can,” he said, and stroked her hair out of her face.
He couldn’t be serious. He couldn’t be trying to bait her into what she thought he was.
She opened her eyes and stared into his face, into his beautiful, cold eyes, and realized that he was. “Please, sir, I need-” Hannah wanted to close her eyes, but she knew that if she did, he would just make her look him in the eye again. “I need you to make me come, please.”
He smiled. She couldn’t look away from the way it made his eyes crinkle at the corners, but brought no joy into them, only a spark of reptilian interest. Like a predator. “One please was sufficient, but it will do.” He moved out of her field of vision, and Hannah was finally able to close her eyes as he settled on the bed behind her.
She had expected him to turn the vibrator up again, so she let out a surprised gasp and twisted, trying to see, when she heard the jingling of keys. He gave her a light smack with the back of his hand, and she resumed her position without further protest, her pulse speeding. His palm was warm over the metal as he cupped her there. She felt him tug on the padlock, then the unmistakable sound of a key fitting in a lock.
Hannah shivered when he unwrapped the straps from her thighs and took the metal away. On the one hand, it had only served to keep that damn vibrator inside her. On the other hand, it had kept him from putting anything else inside of her.
She couldn’t hold onto the thought for long, though, as he immediately closed his fingers around the vibrator inside her and pulled, slowly. She felt it stretch her open, and then she was mercifully, achingly empty. “So wet,” he whispered from behind her, and then she wasn’t empty anymore, two of his fingers plunging deep into her.
Hannah pushed back against his fingers, writhing. She had never needed to come so badly, panting with need. His fingers inside her stretched her wide, pulling her open, and she gave a shocked cry when his tongue pressed firmly in beside his fingers, licking into the wet, aching folds of her cunt. He licked broad stripes up her clit, pressing the tip of his tongue where she needed it most, and her thighs trembled when he finally let her tumble into orgasm at last, clenching around the fingers buried inside of her, gasping.
“You taste delicious,” he said, smoothing his hands over her ass and licking back into her even as she trembled from the aftershocks. “What do you say, Hannah?”
She was oversensitive, squirming under his touch. Every brush of his thumb or swipe of his tongue sent shocks down her thighs, up her spine. She squeezed her eyes shut, thrashing in her bonds, and tried to pull away from him.
His hands curled tight around her hips, and Hannah yelped as he bit down on the inside of her thigh. “I asked you something, lovely dove,” he said - practically growled.
Hannah closed her eyes, letting out a shivery breath. She was long beyond standing on principle. She had just begged him to make her come. “Thank you, sir.”
“Good girl,” he said. Some of the tension bled out of Hannah’s shoulders. She held still as he returned to his ministrations, this time pushing his fingers back into her pussy along with his tongue. She felt raw and stretched. It occurred to her that she still hadn’t seen what he’d put inside of her, and had no idea how big it was. He pushed a third finger into her, and she decided it had been about that big, the thought flying wildly through her head as she tried to breathe through the overwhelming stimulus.
Just as suddenly as he had put his fingers into her, he pulled them out, leaving her aching and empty again. He trailed his fingertips up to her asshole and she couldn't help herself - she tried to jerk away from his grip. "Don't, please, I don't-"
It didn't matter what she said, not when she was tied down and helpless. He pushed one finger into her ass, slowly. "Hush," he said, pressing his thumb against her clit even as she writhed away from the invasion. "You got what you wanted, after all."
Hannah gritted her teeth against the sob that wanted to escape her. She had asked for it, begged for it, but it had not been what she wanted.
He grabbed her asscheeck with his free hand and spread her open, a second finger nudging into her hole beside the first. "Don't panic, my dove. I won't fuck your ass, not just yet. You're too tight. I don't want to hurt you." He pressed the second finger in deep, ignoring the high whine, practically a scream, issuing from between her teeth.
He didn't want to hurt her? What a joke. Even so, his words made her relax just a little. He twisted his fingers inside her, pulling the tight ring of muscle open. It had been a long time since Hannah let someone even finger her ass. She had forgotten how vulnerable and open it made her feel, like a raw nerve.
"Still," he said, pushing his fingers all the way in to the knuckle. "I will have this sweet ass stretched around my dick eventually, so we should get you used to the idea."
His words knocked the breath from her like a physical blow. Eventually. He really wasn't going to let her go. Hannah shook as he pulled his fingers from her ass. She felt something hard press against the wet, stretched hole and whined, trying to squirm away as he pushed it inside. The tip slipped in easily, but it got wider, as wide as his two fingers and then wider still. Her ass burned, stretching around the plastic thing he pushed into her. "Wha- aahhh!" Just when she thought she couldn't possibly take more, the widest part popped inside of her and her asshole clenched around the base.
"Do you recognize the way it feels?" Her tormentor asked. "Maybe if I turn it on."
As soon as the vibration started, Hannah gasped, tightening around the vibrator involuntarily. It was the same hated device he had put in her pussy on the train, only now it buzzed in her ass, feeling impossibly bigger in the tighter hole.
"Now," he said, going back to running his hands over her body. "What should we do with that wet pussy?" His hands were on her ass again, spreading her wide open, flushed and exposed under his gaze. "I think it's ready to get fucked, don't you?"
Hannah's eyes flew open and she pulled against the bonds. "Please don't!"
"No, none of that. Did you really think I would make you come on my tongue and not ask anything in return?" Hannah heard the rustling of cloth and the unmistakable sound of a zipper.
"No," Hannah whispered, inching her knees forward as much as she was able, trying to get away.
He smacked her ass, hard, and the vibrator inside it turned up. "If this is the thanks I get for making you come, I don't think you'll get that privilege very often," he said. He dragged his cock over her clit, barely pushing the tip inside before going back to teasing her with it. "One day you will come to me on your knees and beg for me to fuck you with this cock."
Hannah shook her head, helpless to resist him as he pushed into her, stretching her pussy wide around his dick. He felt huge, or maybe that was the plug in her ass, still vibrating hard. He kept sinking into her, impossibly long, until his hips were flush against hers. She squirmed - the buzzing in her ass and the hard, wide length of him impaling her was enough to make her clit throb and her skin tingle.
He started with short, shallow strokes, his cock stroking over her inner walls with every thrust. Each time, he pulled a little bit farther out of her before slowly sinking back in. When his hips shoved flush against her ass, it put maddening pressure on the vibrator in her asshole.
Hannah couldn't help the small, helpless noises he wrung out of her every time he pushed in deep. "Lovely dove," he said, and fucked into her harder than he had before. She cried out, something between a moan and a noise of protest, and he did it again. He pressed one hand flat on Hannah's back, between her shoulder blades, and began driving into her, their hips crashing together at the end of every stroke.
All Hannah could hear was the wet sound of his cock inside her sopping pussy and the noises she made, soft cries and moans torn from her chest. His breath started to get ragged, too, his thrusts crashing into her.
"No! I- I'm not on the pill!" Hannah said desperately, trying to stave off what she knew was coming.
To her surprise, it drew a groan from him that sounded pleased. "Hannah," he said, grabbing her hip and fucking her hard. "You are a clever girl, but a - ah - a terrible liar. I saw your pills in your purse."
Hannah shook her head, burying her face in the covers, unable to do anything but hang on as his cock slammed into her, wringing more shameful noises from her throat.
He leaned forward, and the changed angle made her eyes open wide. His breath washed hot over the back of her neck. "I'm going to come inside your sweet, tight little pussy," he said, voice rough. Hannah's cunt spasmed around his cock and he chuckled. "What about you, will you come like this? Spread out on my cock?"
"No- oooh," Hannah's protest devolved into another moan as he rocked forward, rubbing all along the inside of her pussy.
"Don't lie to me, Hannah. If you tell me you aren't going to come and then you do, I will take special joy in teaching you a lesson."
Hannah squirmed, pressing back against his cock as he fucked her. She was going to come, despite her words to the contrary, but she was not going to beg for it again, not ever.
"Have it your way," he said. He wrapped both hands around her hips and pulled her back against him, his dick driving into her. She was panting, soft moans spilling from her lips mixed with an endless litany of 'no' and 'please stop.' Her orgasm was building, her pussy squeezing tight around his cock.
"Last chance to ask me properly," he panted, voice ragged. Hannah shook her head, shutting her lips on the whimpers he forced from her, dizzy with the force of what was building within her.
He moved one hand from her hip and pressed his thumb against the base of the vibrator, forcing it in deeper. On his next hard thrust, Hannah came apart, sobbing and practically screaming as her orgasm ripped through her.
"Bad girl," he said. "I shouldn't even give you this now but your pussy is just- too- good!" He punctuated each word with a brutal, hard thrust, and then at last stilled, cock twitching as he filled her up with his come.
Hannah closed her eyes tight, gasping for air as he slid his softening cock from inside her. He stroked her side with a pleased sigh. "Beautiful, Hannah," he said. "But don't think I've forgotten that you came without permission, and you lied to me about it on top of that."
"I'm s-sorry," Hannah stammered, flinching when he smacked her on the ass.
"You're sorry, what?"
"I'm sorry, sir," Hannah said, cheeks burning. She could feel slick wetness dripping from her pussy and sliding down her thighs - her come and his both.
"I'm afraid that isn't going to be good enough this time," he said. Hannah opened her eyes and stared up at him. He shook his head with a small smirk. "You must learn not to lie, lovely dove."
He leaned down, and suddenly some of the pressure on Hannah's arm released. She tensed. He was undoing the bindings, probably to move her into a different position. She waited until the other binding slackened and exploded into motion, scrambling away from him.
He had her by the hair before she could get far, yanking her back and wrestling her down on the bed. "Let me go!" She screamed, twisting in his hold. It was useless. He dragged her back up the bed, on her back this time, and pulled her wrists up to the headboard. Hannah craned her neck to look and saw that he had a pair of leather cuffs around her wrists, which he clipped to the headboard with a gesture that spoke of long practice.
"We have been over this once, but I see you don't quite understand me, so I'll say it again." As he spoke, he grabbed her right leg and yanked, fitting another leather cuff around it. There was a ring and a bit of chain attached to the footboard, and he fastened her ankle to it. "You belong to me. I own you. I will use you as I like, and share you with whom I will." Hannah sobbed, struggling as he grabbed her free leg and repeated the treatment, leaving her cuffed spread-eagled on her back with the hated vibrator still buzzing in her ass.
He pulled up his pants and tucked his cock away. Hannah screamed as he left the room, thrashing in her bonds. The vibrator was a firm, steady pressure in her asshole, and her sore pussy still leaked come. Maybe if she screamed loud enough, someone would hear.
She squeezed her eyes shut, opened her mouth, and yelled for help as loudly as she could.
"Stop that." Her captor had returned. "I can't have you screaming loud enough to wake the dead. It gives me a headache." He moved up beside her head and dropped something on the bed, something black. "Open your mouth."
Hannah clenched her jaw shut stubbornly. He sighed and pinched her nose shut, staring her down. Her vision began to go grey at the edges before she opened her mouth to gasp for air.
He pushed something rubber into her mouth - a gag. Hannah tried to spit it out, but his broad palm moved to cover her mouth. With his free hand, he worked the straps of the gag behind her head and fastened them, holding it in place.
He picked up the second piece of black leather. Hannah tossed her head, whining around the gag, trying to pull away as he tied the blindfold tight around her eyes. She was blind, tied down, gagged, with his come dripping down her thighs.
The vibrator turned up to its highest setting and Hannah writhed, face red, knowing he was looking at her. His fingers ghosted over her cunt, barely a touch but enough to set her aflame again.
"I have errands to run," he said, and Hannah's breath quickened. "While I am gone, you can lie there and think about the consequences of your actions."
Hannah jerked her head, glaring behind the blindfold. Her throat was closing around hot, frustrated tears. He was just too prepared, too ready for what she might try. She slurred something rude around her gag, her head turning to follow the sound of him moving around the room.
"Oh, Hannah?" he said, and she stilled. "Just so you know, there never was any video from the train. I'll be back soon!"
The front door slammed. Hannah screamed wretchedly around the gag and burst into tears.