Part 2 … Sex Slave
I’d already lost count of the days I’d been here. It could have been days, months … I couldn’t tell. All I knew was, I’d become Chresanto’s favorite toy.
And I was utterly afraid.
The way his eyes would darken whenever they landed on me. They had not deepened from an inevitable lust, or even from an anticipated thought. But of a control.
He knew he could make me do anything he wanted, and I couldn’t stop him. He’d have me begging for him to stop until my voice grew hoarse, and still, he continued to devotedly ravage my body with an irrevocable hunger, one that seemed to never be filled.
I lied on the mattress he had brought back to the abandoned building one day. “So we can be more comfortable …” he told me, carefully brushing a strand of hair from my face as I did so. I had long grown used to his touch, so it had merely tingled its way across my skin until he moved his finger.
I felt myself shuddering, though, as I waited and prayed for the sun to rise once more. He wasn’t as fierce during the day. That was when he’d usually leave me alone. Despite occasional slaps on my backside and kisses here and there … I was safe, that is, until the sun went back down.
Tints of golden-whiteness began to pour through the window, an indication of a newborn day. I closed my eyes briefly, thanking God that the night was finally over. My shuddering had yet to cease as I attempted to easily slip from under Chresanto’s loose grip.
His heavier breathing signified his slumber. I’d still be tired, too, if I’d done what he had. But just as I was almost past the length of his fingertips, did I fill his embrace yank me back to his body.
"Where do you think you’re going?" I heard him ask hoarsely, his breath warm against my neck. I inhaled a sharp breath, thinking of a fib that would loosen his great hold along my waist.
"I-I … was just going to the bathroom to freshen up," I beguiled. He was quiet for a moment. Suddenly, I felt his hands running along the length of my body. "Are you lying to me? You know I don’t like it when you lie," he proclaimed quietly, his lips nearing the back of my neck.
"Good …" he whispered, his lips began to touch the nape of my neck gently. They found the crook, where his pecking had damply deepened. “‘Cause you know I’m not through with you yet."
I felt his fingers surpass my closed legs, probing me beneath the thin sheets gently. “Still so wet …” he groaned, and I could feel his manhood begin to poke me in the back. No denying that he could moisten me, and that was my ultimate flaw. As long as he knew he could make me long for his touch, did he keep me here.
I had a feeling I’d be here for a while.
"Can I get up now?" I wondered shakily, his finger still circulating its way lazily inside of me. Chresanto sighed, but released his tight hold on me. "Thank you," I whispered my appreciation, gathering one sheet to wrap around my body. Chresanto hated when I did that, he liked it more when I walked around naked. But this early in the morning, he didn’t have enough energy to argue.
"As long as I got my breakfast," I heard him murmur, turning back briefly to take in the sight of his sucking my juices from his finger.
The time of day I deeply dreaded had finally come about. The sun had left me to fend for myself. In a few moments, I knew that Chresanto would be requesting me back into his room. Goosebumps rose on my arms just thinking about it, thinking of all the things he’d done to me.
I thought of how he used me for his own pleasure. Sure, he brought forth things my mnd was telling me to hold in, but the bliss he was receiving couldn’t be said the same way on my part. If anything, I couldn’t wait to get out of his perspired grip.
I had to wonder, what more did he want? I’d given him my body and my word I would never leave him, although plots rumbled around in my mind on ways to escape. He’d already took my current boyfriend. What else was he willing to steal away from me?
"Oh, Y/N …" I heard him drone my name from the room down the hall. A trembling inhale of breath inserted itself inside my chest. Trembling, I relieved myself of the rough inhalation. My bare feet padded across the old, wooden floorboards, each step accompanied with a creak as I made my way down to his room.
I peaked inside. Chresanto was already on the bed, a hand pillowing his head as he stared at the ceiling, as if contemplating was he was planning to do. He wore a tank top and sweatpants, the usual apparel easy to slip on and slip off at will.
His gaze dropped to it’s side, catching my own line of vision. A smile of certainty crept along his lips. “Y/N, join me,” he bid, and I obeyed the command, but ever so slowly. I tended to do everything in my power to stall the overbearing process, but that usually ended up in our sessions being longer, so when he demanded me to move faster, I did so at once.
He sat up from his prostrated position, eyeing me closely as I kneeled beside him. He eyed the old shirt I was wearing with distaste. He knew the process of unclothing me would take longer, but again, I was willing to do anything to hinder the doing.
Shifting his eyes back up to mine, he seemed to disregard my attire for a moment. “C’mere,” he motioned, grabbing my arm and pulling me close to him.
I soon felt his tongue trace the outline of my lips slowly, a tactic he used to use when we were together in the past, a gesture that would usually already have me naked. But I only sat there, hoping for the tingling sensation between my legs to subside.
But of course they wouldn’t.
His tongue brushed through my lips, coming into contact with mine. I slowly copied the circular motion he produced, and soon, his lips enveloped mine hungrily, the depthness of the kiss catching me off guard.
I wanted to ask him if he could slow down, but leisure was not an option. His lips pressed against mine roughly. I felt him run a hand through my hair, simultaneously pulling at the hem of the shorts he’d permitted me to borrow.
I wore no panties.
A breeze brushed through my legs, and I instantly closed them, much to Chresanto’s irate disappointment. I heard him groan as his lips tore away from mine. His eyes were dark, fueled by anger, lust, and power.
"Open your legs," he growled. My heart beat faster, my eyes boring into his angry ones. He leaned closer to my ear. "I’m not gonna tell you again," he implied lowly. "Open your legs."
A shuddering exhale surpassed my lips as my thighs unattached themselves. Chresanto’s eyes immediately went to evaluate his favorite place. “Damn, look at that p_ssy,” he examined hoarsely. I felt a single finger run along my center, hitting a sensitive area that always seemed to heighten a certain desire, a desire I wish could have been withheld.
I sharply inhaled as his fingers spread me apart. “Mm, mm, mm … looks tasty,” he determined, his bottom lip clenched between his teeth. He lowered himself back onto the mattress, coming eye-to-eye with his favorite meal. He took no time in enjoying it.
His tongue delved within my moistened crease, tasting every outline that put my mind in a disarray. I tried hard not to moan, pressing my lips together as he fed upon me. I heard him groaning as his lips and tongue dove in and out of my folds, only wetting me more than I’d already been.
He spread my legs apart wider, giving him full advantage of my privacy. “A-ah …” the quiet yelp had slipped from me, and I knew that only encouraged him. He ate me deeper, so thoroughly he had me clawing at the sheets.
"You see this? You see how I keep it wet?" he inquired between sucks at my folds. "I know you like it."
I did know, but I hated it at the same time.
I could feel myself reaching my climax, but he suddenly stopped. With one last deep burrow of his tongue inside my area, he stood up. “Come on, baby,” he motioned, holding his hand out toward me. I tentatively took it, and I was suddenly wisped from the un-foreign bedroom and to the kitchen.
We’d never done anything in here before. I guessed he was getting tired of the same routine he’d been doing for the past days. He always did enjoy new things.
He leaned against the sink’s edge, and pulled me between his legs. Once again, his lips attacked mine, pulling at them ravenously. My flavor could still be tasted on his lips and tongue as he kissed me deeply.
I felt his hands run along my body, until they came to the bottom hem of the dreaded shirt. Not bothering to be gentle, he ripped it from my body, exposing my breasts and the rest of my nakedness.
He instantly stooped down, grabbing my nipple with his lips as he sucked on it harshly, twisting and turning the other one with his fingers. I tried not to echo any sounds of pleasure, but the trembling breath that escaped me proved otherwise of my hopes.
I could feel his hardness poking me, and I knew that once again, I was about to become his sex slave. “Turn around,” he demanded. When I moved to slow for him, he yanked me around so that my backside pressed against his hard-on. I heard him shudder a moan, as if he couldn’t control himself and what he was about to do to me.
His mouth attacked the crook of my neck, and I cried out at his teeth’s contact with my skin. “I know you like it rough,” he whispered in my ear, gently biting the lobe.
I apprehended the sound of him pulling down his pants and boxers. “Damn, baby,” he grumbled. “You are ready for me.”
Against my will, had my wetness protruded down my legs. I heard him snicker. “I hope you’re ready for this …”
He lifted one of my legs and pushed down onto the counter in front of me. My face came in contact with the smooth surface of the island, and an agonized yelp fell from my lips when he entered me roughly.
He took no time in pounding in and out of me, not once letting up, not that I didn’t know he wouldn’t. His drive seemed colder than usual, though. Usually, he’d find a way for me to enjoy the treatment in the least, but now, it seemed like he was only willing to pleasure himself.
"Chres, Chres! Please, stop!" I pleaded, the overwhelming feeling forcing me into a world where my vision had appeared to blacken. But he didn’t. He continued to thrust in and out of me, groaning as he did so.
"F_ck!" he exclaimed, as I clinched tightly around him. The pressure that had been building up in my stomach had finally released, dripping down my legs and onto the floor. He freed himself soon after, the warm cream seeping into me relentlessly.
"Sh_t …" he moaned as he emptied himself of his last drops. He yanked me by my hair, bringing me back up to his perspired body. His tongue traced itself against my skin as he dug his fingers through my soiled folds.
"As long as I can make you do this?" He motioned toward my cream that lathered his fingers. He made watch as he rid his finger of my residue. Then, averting his gaze back to mine, he kissed me gently, but retaliated at the last moment and kissed me deeply, his tongue surveying mine. He sucked at my bottom lip one last time before pulling away a short distance.
"You’ll be mine forever."
I need Jesus.
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