“You realize I’m gonna’ fuck you, right?”
Twenty-seven year old Amy Martin shut her eyes momentarily and registered within her brain the image of being raped by Mr. Stark again. The brunette had just removed her top so that her owner was that much closer to getting a naked female body along the mattress atop the bed within the prison that Amy was killing time inside of.
“Yes. Yes sir. I understand that’s what y-you desire sir…”
Amy’s tormentor adored these moments. His slave down to just her panties. A handful of locked doors and three stairwells between this torture chamber and the world above. Both all the opportunity to do exactly what he ‘desired’ with Amy’s body and all the time to do it in. Crap…after only four days and an equal number of nights as his guest Stark rarely even had to use ropes to keep this new slut compliant and in a constant state of fear.
“You say that Amy…but I’m not sure you understand as yet what my twenty-four seven access to your vagina truly entails. Panties off. Move. Faster! There…good girl. Now…stand in the light. Arms at your sides slave. Eyes open. You understand I have to fuck you, right?”
“Yes. Yes master. This is what I’m designed for s-sir……”
Amy stood as erect as her terror allowed beneath the 200-watt light bulb nearest the bed she was to be abused upon. She was painfully aware of her nudity. And could for the hundredth time sense her kidnapper’s eyes gloating over his complete control over her body. Her breasts especially pleased Mr. Stark…and Amy felt shame in realizing that in this moment - prior to the rape - her nipples were as firm for her tormentor as they had been for Julio. Back at home. Julio. Somewhere - out ‘there’ - pounding the pavement to ‘find’ her.
Fat chance.
“Adequate. Hands behind your head…interlace and lock your fingers. Like yesterday. I want those titties on display for today’s photo session. ARCH YOUR BACK WHORE! Better. That’s adequate. Now be still. You’ve learned a lot in four days slut. But any regression to your former sense of having even thee slightest inclination towards self esteem will be dealt with in thee most harshest manner. Are we clear whore?”
Amy nodded, adjusted her weight atop her bare feet and shapely legs and waited meekly for her owner to archive the ‘necessary’ images of her body before the actual rapes commenced. This was all part of the Stark Process. The humiliation. The fear. And the reality of being deathly cold inside this damp cellar. A place where clothing on female bodies was as rare as mercy being shown by Mr. Stark to a helpless girl that he’d appraised as being unworthy of continued maintenance.
“I’ll be good sir. Please…pl-please sir tell me when it’s time to kneel. I’m trying to anticipate your desires m-more and more master. It’s a privilege…a privilege sir, having such a man’s cock inside my filthy mouth…”
Mr. Stark did not reply as another dozen images or so of Amy’s naked body were added to his already sizeable collection. The sadist was acutely aware of two very important facets of this prepatory rape play he and poor Amy were engaged in. One…his victim was extremely cold. And two…Amy’s seeming willingness to pleasure him with her mouth, tongue and throat was a selfish ploy to allow the slut to moisten his weapon. Prior to its being inserted painfully up inside Amy’s bruised vagina.
“Change of plan girl. Mouth service comes AFTERWARD today. You’re getting too slack with your hips Amy…so a little scorching hot, abrasive discomfort might help you to reassess your commitment to my cock. In bed. When you’re raped. ON THE BED! STOP BLUBBERING!”
Amy ‘was’ sobbing. No more lube. Not even the pretense of mercy in allowing her to coat her torturer’s erection with a layer of saliva before it was to be shoved deeply inside her womb. Four days and nights……
Just because he could Mr. Stark arranged Amy upon her belly atop the mattress. And tightly roped off both her wrists to separate cornerposts of the rape bed. Thus restrained, the brunette with the soft brown eyes and exquisite tan lines about her breast contours and ass cheeks was instructed by her rapist to keep her nipples ‘only JUST in contact with the mattress’ when the rape strokes began to piledrive into her. Mr. Stark was very demanding in how Amy’s body was to be exhibited (and how it was to suffer) during a session of abuse.
“Yes sir. Yes…my master.”
It hurt more than Amy anticipated. There was something about the manner in which Stark could penetrate/enter females from behind…once they’d been propped to his specifications atop the rape bed. Amy barely had time to wince when - of a sudden - a single plunging fuck stroke from her kidnapper burst agonizingly against the walls of her vagina. Splitting the brunette apart and causing Amy to disobediently scream in excruciating pain.
“Shut it. Shut…your filthy mouth. Hips higher. Titties down…more. Better. Good girl. That’s…th-that’s adequate. Now…gyrate your hips on every THIRD fuck pump. You have to pay attention slut! EVERY THIRD STROKE! MORE! MORE! I DON’T CARE IF IT HURTS! Keep your lame ass in the air and pay attention slut. Yes…like…like th-that. Good girl. That’s adequate. Stay positive Amy…this should only take about twenty minutes…”
It took the better part of thirty.
All part n’ parcel of the ballyhooed Stark Process. Make it hurt from Stroke One. Make it last. And make sure the whore is howling in agony when you cum.
“Yes. Just…j-just like that whore! Good…good girl! Jeezus! JEEZUS! That’s it…good girl. Jeezus that’s perfect! Right there…THERE…THERE…tits down. Don’t fuck it up now whore. Yes! Just like that! it’s time Amy…jeezus, it’s fuckin’ time! Oh fuckin’ jeezus! Uugghh! Uugghh! JEEZUS! What a slut! Uughh! Oh, fuckin’ jeezus fuckin’ shyte! UUGGHHHHHH!!”
So it surprised Amy when she was strung up immediately afterward - dangling from the ceiling by her wrists with the balls of her pretty bare feet barely able to reach the cement floor - for punishment. Mr. Stark was committed to making the most of his opportunity with a proper use of his time.
“You have to accept pain before we can both move towards meeting my standards girl. I’m going to help you Amy. It’s not enough to submit to being fucked simply to avoid breast torture. Slut…you have to realize that dedicating your worthless body to my gratification is not merely a privilege I grant you. But truly the reason for your very existence. The pain will assist you in coming closer to this serene truth Amy. And, don’t fret, I have the player on to record your screams once I transition from your nipples to your labia and back up to your breasts. Can’t pass up this opportunity. And we have all the time in the world whore. Yes. Your body appears adequate like this…helpless and pale. Let’s have some real fun Amy. Then? Maybe a quickie back on the bed. Yes! Delightful. Now…this is going to hurt more than you can imagine……”
Amy had been gagged with her sister’s panties. And for whatever reason - as Mr. Stark approached her helpless form with something akin to chrome in his hand - Amy had the belittling sense that her nipples were as firm as they had ever been in the previous four days.
“You realize I’m going to torture you, right?”
