Evocation (12 page)

Chapter 10

Eileen’s sleep that night was filled with glittering fragments of colorful images, jagged and broken. Quick flashes of strong hands and hard, demanding cocks flickered through her dreams. She could feel them all around her, strange men lusting for her, and she wanted them as much as they wanted her…yet every tongue or finger or swollen erection that thrust into her turned to mist, leaving her empty and needy.

She writhed, desperate in her longing, but the half-seen people melted away from her. The more she cried out for it, the more quickly they faded, until she was alone in a swirling sea of mist, hungry…

Her eyes flew open. She was lying on her side in the bed. Anthony curled up close behind her. She could feel the warmth of his body pressed against her back. She shifted restlessly and felt him stir.

His hand slid around her breast. “Interesting dreams?” he asked. “You were whimpering.”

The dream still lingered in her body. Tightness gripped her chest. She pressed her hips backward against Anthony. His fingers found her nipple, and the sensation that took her breath away. She realized that he was hard; his erection pressed against her, just inches from the entrance to her sex. A swell of need curled through her body. She moved her hips, just a little, to press his tip closer to the source of her need. He kissed the back of her neck gently. Teeth grazed her skin.

With one backward push, she impaled herself on him. Pleasure and pain twisted together in a dance of ecstasy. Her hands clawed the sheets of the bed. Anthony’s answering cry only deepened her own frenzied need, provoking a desperate urgency that spread like wildfire inside her. She drove herself back on him over and over again, hard and fast. A fiery blaze crashed through her body. He responded in kind; his cock swelled inside her with each of her wild thrusts until his hands gripped hard and he came with a howl.

She lost track of how many times she came. Even as he throbbed and spurted into her, she still thrust herself backward onto him, writhing in the grip of an endless flood of rapid-fire orgasms, until he gasped and gripped her thighs. “Enough! I’m too sensitive!” he panted. She tried to grind her hips against his, but he pulled away shuddering. “Whew! What’s gotten into you, little whore? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite this needy before. I’m spent! Go back to sleep. There will be plenty of time later to have all the fuckings you need.”

Her body calmed slowly. Slick warm wetness leaked from inside her. She clutched her pillow tightly, abashed at what she’d just done. Now that the edge had been taken off her need, she felt like she had just legitimized the humiliating things Anthony had subjected her to. She had shown him that he could use her, expose her in public, allow a woman to rape her, and she would not only accept it, she would reward him for it. Hot tears of shame dripped into the pillow. Even now, as her abused pussy ached and the shame coursed through her, she could still feel the need. Anthony’s soft cock pressed lightly against her thigh, stirring a longing to press backward again, feel it inside her…

It took a long time for sleep to come. When it did, it brought no more dreams.

Anthony woke the next morning before Eileen. She opened her eyes to find him bustling around the bed, stark naked. “Good morning!” he chirped. “Time to get up!”

She watched him pick up a pillow and place it on the floor at the foot of the bed. “The morning won’t wait for us. Up! Up!” He lifted her to a sitting position by the arm.

“Ugh. What time is it?”

“Six thirty.” He unlocked the manacles that held her wrists and ankles. “I have to go to work soon. I’m a slave to my corporate masters. Well…” He paused and thought for a moment. “I guess technically, I am a corporate master. A slave to my partners, maybe? A slave to my standard of living? I’m sure I’m a slave to something. Stand up!”

She left the warm comfort of the thick fluffy covers reluctantly. When he was satisfied she wasn’t going to try to slip back into bed, Anthony picked up another pillow. He fluffed it, then set it carefully on the end of the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“Training you, of course.” He pointed to the pillow on the floor. “Kneel.”

Meekly, she did as she was told. Anthony took a silver bottle with a pump handle and handed it to her. She looked at it curiously. It was made of aluminum, with the words “ANAL LUBE” printed neatly in block letters on its side. Her heart started to pound. “Anthony!”

“From now on, this will stay on the night stand on your side of the bed.”

“No! What if we have guests over? What if they see it?”

“Then I imagine they’ll think you like taking it up the ass.”

“But what if…” She blushed. “What if my mother comes over?” The thought mortified her.

“If she don’t want to know what goes on in our bedroom, she probably shouldn’t poke around in our bedroom, I reckon.” His eyes glittered. “Now use it. Get your butt all nice and slippery.”

“No! I can’t!”

“Okay.” He shrugged. “I’ll take you without it, then.”

“No!”

“Your choice.” He smirked. “I won’t wait very long for you to decide, though.”

Eileen shuddered. She turned the bottle back and forth in her hands. “I don’t like…you know. Putting things there.”

He shrugged again. “We’ve talked about this before. You don’t have to like it. You just have to do it.”

Blushing under his gaze, she squirted the slippery lube onto her fingers. Her blush turned deeper when she slid her hand between her legs to squish it against her tight entrance. She flinched at the coolness of it. He watched her steadily while she repeated the motions, lubricating herself generously for him.

“Are you finished?” he asked when she set the bottle on the floor. She nodded.

“Good. Bend over the bed. Put your face in the pillow.”

Meekly, she did so. He paused for a moment to admire her, kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed, face buried in the pillow, ass up in the air, ready for him. She felt him move into position behind her.

“You know what I’m going to do,” he said. “As a sex slave, it is your role to accommodate whatever use you are put to. Whenever you feel something touch your ass, you will tilt your hips toward it and push yourself backward onto it. Do you understand?”

She nodded into the pillow.

“Good.” His hands stroked the small of her back. “It’s just like I taught you when something touches your mouth. You must always let it in.” His hands slid up to her shoulders. He moved closer behind her. Heart hammering, she felt the head of his erect cock press lightly against her anus. “Now.”

Her body shook.
This is wrong!
she thought.
Only sluts do this!
She thought for a brief, wild instant about refusing him. A sharp twinge clenched her pussy, a vivid tactile reminder of what happened the last time she didn’t obey him.

Her hands clenched the blankets. She pushed back sharply, feeling him drive up into her ass. She screamed into the pillow.

“Good.” He pulled away from her, withdrawing. She panted. His hands caressed her back, raising shivers along her spine. “Remember that there’s more to sex than just shoving something into a hole, though. Use your body. Seduce me. Pleasure me.”

His hands slid down her bare skin to her waist. “Arch your back. Raise your hips. Press that lovely ass of yours against me.”

She shuddered, suddenly grateful that he could not see her face. His fingers dug into her skin, coaxing her to raise her hips to him. She felt the head of his cock, slick with lube, press against her. He guided her with subtle pressure of his fingertips, coaxing her to shift her hips up and down in tiny motions against him. The sensation drew her breath away. Little tremors of pleasure rippled up from where his cock touched the sensitive entrance to her ass.

“Yes, like that.” His fingers pressed deeper into her waist. “Move your hips more. It feels good, doesn’t it?”

She sighed softly. He caressed her skin, hands sliding up her back. She moved her hips in little circles against his rigid cock, lost in the strange new feelings. His hands massaged her shoulders. “That’s right, just like that. Give that ass to me.” His fingers squeezed her shoulders, drawing her back with that same subtle pressure. “You like it. Take pleasure in what you are, my beautiful anal whore.”

Eileen pressed back harder against his shaft. She felt herself stretch open around him. Then, more easily than she would have expected, the head of his cock slipped into her. The pillow swallowed up her gasp.

“There, you see? It’s not all about just shoving it in. Work it. Move your hips. Fuck yourself on me.” His hands glided down her sides. “Show me how much you like it.”

She whimpered in confusion. The gentle pressure, the slight penetration, felt good…far better than she could have imagined. Her mother had always told her that anal sex was painful and degrading, something that only desperate women would do if they couldn’t get a decent man. All the things he had done to her before, all the men who had taken her anus when she was blindfolded…some of it had felt good, somewhere underneath the discomfort and shame, but not like this. Every delicate little motion sent shuddering waves of pleasure through her body.

No!
she thought.
It’s not supposed to feel like this! This is wrong!
Butterflies fluttered. She felt helpless to stop herself from wriggling against him.

His hands gripped her hips. “Back. Deeper.” She moved her hips up and down, drawing him slightly farther in with each wriggle. Slowly, bit by bit, she drove him deeper into her ass.

She felt him tremble. “Oh. Oh, God, yes. Just like that. This is what you will do whenever anything touches your anus.” His hands tightened on her waist. “Slower. Press back. Push me deeper. Clamp down. Milk my cock with your ass.”

She started moving in longer, slower motions, grinding back against him to take him deep, then squeezing tightly around his erection as he slid back out. Each long thrust sent an intense surge of pleasure up along her spine. She slowly increased her speed, forcing herself back onto him, faster and faster, barely even aware that he wasn’t moving at all.

He moaned behind her. His fingers dug into her skin. “Oh! Oh, like that. Just like that.”

She whimpered into the pillow.
It’s not supposed to feel like this!
she thought frantically.
I don’t want it to!
Her hips moved on their own accord. She felt him swell inside her. The butterflies swirled.

She came a split second before he did. The feel of warm liquid jetting into her intensified her orgasm. She bucked hard against him, screaming into the pillow.

He slipped slowly out of her, panting. “Oh, yes,” he murmured. “That’s how you do it. How did that feel, little whore?”

She lifted her face from the pillow. Her eyes were glassy, faraway. “That felt amazing,” she said. “That felt so good, I…” She realized what she was saying and blushed.

He caressed her cheek. “See? You like it. I told you.” He smiled.

Eileen rose on shaky feet. Anthony took her hand. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“To the shower. From now on, you will be required to bathe me. This is part of your normal duties as a sex slave.”

In the shower, he stood under the hot spray and waited. She felt like he was expecting her to do something, though she wasn’t quite sure what it was.

She picked up a bar of soap uncertainly and reached for him. He stopped her. “The key to being a sex slave is to understand that everything you do is about sex. Everything. Even if you’re just doing the dishes. You should always be thinking about how you can make everything you do as sexual as you can.” He smiled and stepped back. “From now on, your slave duties include washing me. Use your body. Get yourself soapy.”

She felt herself turning red under his gaze. While he watched, she began soaping up. He reached out and ran his fingers lightly up her arm. “Remember what I said. Make everything you do about sex.”

Eileen felt suddenly, acutely self-conscious.
What if I end up looking silly?
she fretted.
What if he doesn’t think it’s sexy?
He watched her patiently, waiting. She blushed.

Tentatively, bashfully, she raised her hands to her breasts. She soaped them slowly, letting her hands move in lazy circles. She cupped and fondled them for a while, coaxing her nipples into hardening. She watched his face while she teased her nipples, reading his expressions to assure herself that she was being appropriately enticing. When she was sure she had his attention, she moved her hands up and down her body, over her belly, along her arms, soaping herself thoroughly.

Enraptured, he watched her put one leg up on the edge of the shower and run her hands along it. She moved without haste, as if she had a natural talent for seduction that only needed the slightest prodding to unlock. She lathered herself languidly, her eyes never leaving his face.

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” he said. “You have a gift for sex. Now use your body to soap me.”

She blushed a little at the compliment. Her arms slid around him as she pressed herself close against his body. She slid up and down, running her body against his. Each time she rose, she placed a tiny kiss on his lips. Her hard nipples left small trails in the soap.

She knelt at his feet and carefully washed between his toes. When she was satisfied, she looked up at him, hands running up and down his legs.