Extremes Read online

  “Exactly. Go show him the marks on your tits.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me?”

  “Here? Right here?” She was astounded.

  “No one will notice.”

  She shook her head. “No, no I can’t. Something’s …”

  “You didn’t think you could live through last night, but you did. And you’ll live through this night too.”

  “But …”

  “If I have to use the whip to correct your misbehavior, you will bleed,” he advised her.

  Such choices. Half drunk anyway, she wondered why she objected. And without hesitating again, she rose from her chair and tiptoed to the elegant bar and sat down next to the elegant man with the silver gray hair and the rich brown tan.

  “He said you’d want to see my breasts,” she whispered to him when he turned towards her.

  “Only if they’ve been marked,” the man replied. He was cool, a dangerous kind of aloof.

  She was glad she could accommodate him. Pulling one breast from her dress she let him see where the scourge had left red marks that were turning into bruises. Strange to see them in this light, they appeared like badges of honor. Though what he did from there was not.

  “You’ll do,” he said, then he nodded to Ben Kite. Taking Jess’s hand she was led away to another room, one as elegant and polished as the one she left. Though the malicious intent in the air was as startling as it had been the night before in the seedy dive where this nightmare began.

  Three men waited for her there. She would have welcomed Ben at this moment seeing the grim aspect in these faces.

  “Her ass been used?” It was a devilish looking blonde-haired man that spoke to the silver haired one.

  “Not since she was taken. So he tells me.”

  “Then her ass it is,” he said.

  The settee was pink, trimmed in gold. A place where a woman was designed to lounge, not be abused. But they had another kind of rape in mind this night—and it wasn’t an elegant one.

  Pushed to the settee, her knees sunk into the cushiony fabric as did her breasts and shoulders and head. The three men had only one thing in mind: her offered ass. They didn’t even bother to remove the pink silk. It was flung up over her back to expose their target - it too showed signs of the previous night’s abuse. There were places on her silky skin still red though there was no serious damage. The instant the first man touched her anal cleft, however, Jess jerked. Not even Nick had taken her anally and she was petrified. Her whole body tensed.

  “You need to relax Mrs. Paltrow. You know, you might even enjoy this.”

  She winced to herself, knowing that to protest was pointless.

  An eager hand, probing her depths and finding the tight hole, made her jump again.

  “No, please,” she whispered.

  “You give us any trouble, we’ll have to tie you down,” she was warned.

  A finger first pushed against her sphincter until it was beyond the opening. She gasped, but didn’t protest again. She couldn’t stand the thought of being tied like she was the night before. This way there was at least some tiny measure of control.

  As the finger penetrated, she tried to find some pleasure, though the sensations were crude, almost unmanageable the way they ripped through her. “You’re doing just fine, Mrs. Paltrow,” one man murmured. “Just fine.” As he spoke another finger pressed inside, the penetration made easier when her bottom was splashed with some liquid lubricant. “Oooo, yes, you might even like this,” her backdoor lover purred. Perhaps another finger slipped inside, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was the wildness in her, something taking her out of herself, out of control. Her mind flashed back and forth from hate to fear to perfect pleasure. And somewhere in the back of her head she could hear her voice concurring with these foul lovers. Was she really asking for more?

  Unaware of when the change took place, she came conscious once, to find herself fully fucked in the ass. Some man’s dick was planted there and she was in agony—but still crying for more. Nothing made sense through the entire attack. One dick done, it was replaced by another. All large, all full, all erect and pummeling her deep, riding her hard as if she were a mounted filly. The last in her ass was the best and the worst. His large prick drove so deep, the line between pain and oblivion became indistinct. It was heaven to her senses one minute; it was hell the next. But a happy hell.

  The last man finished, she was empty. He cracked his hand against her ass cheek. “You’re a fine fuck, Mrs. Paltrow. I’d be happy to oblige you again, just let me know.” His fingers had replaced his cock inside her, just to keep the sensations right at the edge—so she wouldn’t forget them. When he was finished with his chiding, he pulled them out and wiped them on a towel. Then, as the others had done, he replaced his dick inside his pants and zipped the fly. Jessica was left on the pink settee, used and shivering, and on the verge of weeping.

  “Ben expects you for dessert and coffee; don’t tarry too long,” the last man out advised her.

  The door to the elegant parlor closed leaving her alone with an exhausted body. A thousand things she might have thought or felt, but there was nothing she’d allow in her mind. Instead, she pulled herself up, wiped her ass and then primped in front of the full length mirror on the wall. Strange, her make-up was hardly smudged, and she could still smile if she tried.

  Weak-kneed and almost faint, Jessica had made her way back to the dinner table where Ben Kite sat waiting for her. He seemed pleased by her appearance, including the weariness that was evident on her face. He was thinking about how beautifully soft she looked as he spoke to her.

  “You didn’t come this time, did you?” Ben asked.

  “No, I didn’t,” she whispered.

  “And I suppose my friends enjoyed themselves?”

  “I can only assume,” Jess replied. She took a gulp of champagne that had suddenly appeared in her wine glass. There was lemony cream mouse in a dessert glass before her. The cool taste of it was appropriately soothing next to the remembrance of her last hour.

  “They took your ass, didn’t they?” he inquired.

  “You don’t know?”

  “They weren’t obliged to tell me,” he said. “You see, in addition to paying off your husband’s gambling debt to me, you’ve paid off one of mine. Rather ironic, don’t you think?”

  “I don’t think I understand irony right now,” she replied. She was only half in her mind. The rest of her was floating free in her body.

  “Or much of anything, I suppose,” Ben suggested.

  Jess ate the creamy concoction in the glass one bite at a time. She didn’t answer Ben’s reply. The minutes ticked by as if they were watching eternity slow dance with each passing hour. They glanced eye to eye without speaking. Jess had no words and Ben was spending his moments thinking.

  “So, Mrs. Paltrow, you’ve served me well,” Ben finally said. “I hope I haven’t made your time with me too difficult. You’ll be happy to know that you’re free to go.”

  Taking a moment for the comment to register, she looked at him surprised. “But I still have hours to go?” she reminded him.

  Ben smiled a deliciously wicked smile as he had so many times since she’d been kidnapped from her home. “Only if you want to.”

  “If I want … “ she hesitated.

  “You’ve performed beautifully under the circumstances. I’ve found you a most sexually adequate prize.”

  “But you don’t want me for yourself. I thought …” She was confused.

  “On the contrary, I’d like nothing better than to continue the night I’d planned. But not because I coerced you. I find the prospect of a willing sex partner much more appealing than one I’ve had to intimidate into submission. If you want me to Mrs. Paltrow, I will use you as utterly as I’d intended. But not against your will.”

  It hadn’t occurred to her that the tables would be turned and in such a perverse way. Her body screamed for satisfaction that she assum
ed she’d have at Ben Kite’s hands. She wanted nothing less than that satisfaction. She knew she’d earned it, but to be left with nothing! Never!

  Jess shook her head. “You can’t. No, no, you can’t put this off on me.” Her mind was reeling too fast for her words to keep up.

  “You can walk away, Jessica. Nick’s free to go. I make no more demands.”

  “No. No you can’t,” she insisted.

  “Oh? But I’m a man of my word.”

  She closed her eyes as if that could close out the decision she was required to make.

  “I think I know what you want, Jess,” Ben interrupted her reverie. “But you have to say it. I want to hear you tell me. I want to know so there will never be any doubt between you and me.”

  “No.” She was angry. “You can’t make me do this,” she said. The decision before her had sobered her mind. Though it had done nothing to take away the lust that twenty hours of forced sexual submission had raised. Her desire cried out to her, but it was with a silent voice. She could never say it, never in a million years.

  “Perhaps then, I should call you a cab?” Ben offered. He put his napkin beside his plate and began to rise.

  “No, no, please,” she said. Her hand went out as if to stop him.

  “No?” He looked at her almost kindly. “Then tell me.”

  “What you planned …” she started, then stopped.

  “Go ahead,” he prompted.

  “Just, just do it.”

  “Do what?” He wasn’t giving an inch.

  Jess was on the verge of tears and certainly frustration. “I want you to fuck me hard, Mr. Kite. Hard,” she blurted out at last, not at all mindful that there were other diners that might have heard.

  Ben smiled. “Ah yes,” he said, quite satisfied. “That’s if that was what I had in mind.”

  “What?” She was confused.

  “Don’t worry, you’ll get what you want, as along as I know you want it.”

  He pulled away from the table and pulled her with him, out of the restaurant. His limo was waiting for them outside, the driver already at the door to open it. Jess climbed in, but Ben hesitated for a second peering inside.

  “Take off the dress,” he said.

  She looked at him dumbfounded.

  “Take off the dress,” he ordered, this time his voice just slightly raised.

  It shouldn’t matter in the close confines of the car, but when she handed the garment to him, and he tossed it in a nearby dumpster, she shivered feeling the first wave of cool air hit her skin and make the hair on her body stand on end. She was scared again.

  Ben climbed in next her.

  “I never liked that dress,” he said casually.

  “But I’m naked …” she tried the protest.

  “That’s really not going to matter before we’re done.”

  And it didn’t. It was a long night, not just the four hours that she owed him for Nick’s gambling debt, but much more. Her body was in an uproar. All the lack of satisfaction for the last two days, and what had been stored for seven years in a lackluster marriage came back to her with a vengeance when Ben’s hands began to comb her worn out body. His hands ran wild over the bruises, making love to her in a way that was as crude as all the other indignities she’d suffered.

  She suffered gladly now, because he refused to let her off without a dozen spikes of pleasure. He was as sweet as he was savage, as malevolent as he was kind. In the same instant she felt as free as bird and held at gun point. Nothing about the night made sense.

  ***

  In the morning he was tying his tie when she woke. Fresh and starched he was prepared for day. Jess looked about the apartment, wondering how she got there. She remembered only little of the details of the night before. Though she did remember all of the feelings. Just the feel and smell of his bed, and the memories were in mind instantly. Looking at Ben, she didn’t know what to think of him. Disgust, anger and something akin to love were dwelling happily side by side in her mind.

  “So, Jess,” Ben said, turning towards her. “You’re free to go.” She nodded. He was on his way out. “And please, take as long as you like getting ready. You’ll find some clothes in the closet. Use whatever you need.”

  “Thanks,” she said, as she watched his tight rear end moving away from her.

  “And Jess,” he said, stopping with his hand on the bedroom door, “you’ll be back for more. That I promise.”

  The comment took her off guard. “You’re sure of that?” she wondered aloud. It was all she could think to say.

  “Aren’t you?” he answered.

  “Perhaps,” she said, finding herself smiling as tenderly as she might to any man she loved.

  That was all the reply he needed. He smiled back, and winked. “Give my regards to Nick,” he said. And he was out the door.

  Of Roses & Sailors

  A man of breathtaking mystery to me, I was perpetually surprised by his gifts and how he bestowed them.

  On board the ship, sailing into the South Pacific, the seas were glassy, shimmering when we gazed out in the morning. How lured we were by the slow motion erotic pulse the ocean generated beneath our feet. I wore the thin cotton shift he threw over my body as I awoke at daybreak, when he compelled me to join him on deck. Pulling myself from sleep and dreams and the half awake stupor of sensuous remembering, I found myself tiptoeing barefoot passed the other cabins to the ladder we climbed in our ancient reborn vessel, to the top deck. He wanted me to see the luster of the morning light at sunrise over the sea: to see how the water looks like jewels; how its sparkling surface makes one believe this beauty is what the moon and stars leave at dawn. A remembrance of the sky’s brilliance that fades in the more majestic light of the sun.

  My lover wasn’t moved by inspiration alone. No, he was purposefully aroused, overtly sexual. On deck at that hour, he supposed that making love would only be discovered by a discreet crew, so he didn’t hesitate to engage my body in the same eager arousal his was feeling. As his hands moved over the flesh of my thighs he pulled up the shift and bared my lower half. More intimate still, he exposed my labia and its womanly center between. Laying me back against the rail he knelt between my legs so he could breakfast at the river of potent juice that poured from me. And as if I was inebriated by some numbing elixir, I succumbed. All of me was in that place between my legs where his delicate strokes traced line after line to excite each atom, each pore, each thought in my mind. When I came, he was satisfied, and didn’t ask anymore for himself. He returned me to my cabin after a gentle peck upon my cheek, leaving me to wait for the real morning to come when it was permissible for me to stir from bed.

  My real companions were the other school girls in our small group, just four of us and our chaperone, a sweet old aunt of Gwen, my dearest friend. Gwen said that her Aunt Dixie would look the other way if we were to find romance. Though I sincerely doubt she would have overlooked my strange affair with the sailor who brought me such unexpected gifts.

  He had only made love to me once before he took me on the top deck at daybreak. Then it had been in the engine room of the vessel, against a wall. His penetration had been sure and brisk as he pinned me to the hard surface with his muscled chest. His lips comforted my lips, while his erection took liberties with my vagina, pummeling it rudely until he grunted, his pleasure taken.

  I was not a virgin, but I still felt that way, being in the arms of such an attentive and skillful lover. He put my two past encounters with sex to shame. It was a dizzying experience being romanced and loved by him—so suddenly, completely at his mercy.

  “Good morning, my sweet,” he said to me. He passed by my chair as I sunned on deck remembering daybreak with a delicious smile on my lips. “You must be dreaming good dreams,” he observed.

  My eyes shot open, though it was difficult to see him, until he moved enough so he blocked the sun. I smiled looking at his mouth, recalling how it had made me feel just hours before. “Why would you say t
hat?” I asked.

  “Because of the serenity on your face,” he replied.

  “It looks peaceful?”

  “Yes, but not completely satisfied.”

  I know I blushed, assuming that he read my thoughts.

  “We really should be more careful,” I suggested.

  “But why?” He was perfectly serious, and completely unwilling to entertain my fears. “Here,” he said, pulling a pink rose from behind him, and handing it to me.

  I was pleased. The fragrance was pungent. “Place it between your legs, and allow it to tickle your vagina.”

  “What!”

  “My greatest happiness is seeing you aroused,” he said.

  “But you know I already am,” I said.

  “But more, you deserve more.” He looked down at my crotch, covered by the sundress I was wearing. “I suppose you’re wearing panties?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then take them off and put the flower there. It will be our secret.”

  I was mindful that there were other travelers on the boat passing by, no doubt thinking me naive and innocent. I liked the fact that I was not innocent at all. But still, I found his instructions a challenge. When I hesitated too long to comply, he sat down on the lounge—an act verboten for a sailor on his ship. But he obviously didn’t care about the rules. Without bothering to see if anyone was looking, he reached up under the blue flowered cotton, and pulled my silk panties down my thighs. The slip of cloth ended up in his pocket, not mine. As then, as if he was replacing one garment with another, he took the fragrant pink rose from my hand and slid it underneath the skirt—high, until I could feel the petals tickle the hairs of my pubis.

  “There,” he said satisfied. “And don’t remove it.” That was a warning, his tanned face becoming quite stern as he spoke.

  I lounged for another hour feeling the rose against my vaginal lips. When I squirmed at all, it only seemed to drop deeper. I opened my legs just slightly to let it fall against the most sensuously aroused place. And then I’m afraid, I was wiggling on it at regular intervals, as if I might orgasm from its delicate caress. So heightened were my sensations, I began to sense them moving outward from my pubis. My toes tingled. My head felt light. My belly swelled and my hands, now itching to touch myself where the rose remained, had to be restrained considering the traffic of people passing by my lounge.