5 comments/ 90598 views/ 44 favorites Ivy's Rapist Ch. 01 By: PrevertedMe I sit in the dark and wait. Patiently I wait. I don't mind, it's just a part of it . . . A part of it all. Not the best part, just a part. And it's what I must do. So I sit and I wait . . . And wait. Eventually I hear the sound of her car and see the bright headlights blasting into the dark recesses of her home as she pulls along the driveway. She's home. The time has arrived. This waiting is over. She parks the car and gets out. I watch through the edge of a window, spying on her to make sure she is alone. If she isn't I can slip out the back, quick and quiet like, and just return another night. But she is alone. She always is. She's always alone. Not for long though . . . Not tonight . . . Not this weekend. I move away from the window, past her couch and slip up next to the side door, the one facing her driveway . . . the one she always enters. On my way I grab the rag and bottle setting on the end table where I sat them, wetting the cloth with practiced efficiency as I move. The door swings open and she strolls inside, habitually dropping her briefcase on the little table by the entrance and swinging the door shut before she reaches for the light switch. Before she can turn on the lights though I reach out and grab her . . . Strong and sudden. I wrap one arm around her mid-section, locking my fingers around her arm, and slam the other over her mouth, covering it with the cloth. She tries to scream, even struggle, but her sudden inhalation at being surprised causes the gas to have a rapid effect and soon the struggling weakens as she slips away into dream land. As she slumps I hold her in my arms and keep her from falling to the floor. I bend over and scoop her into my arms, her small, lithe body easily managed as I carry her through the living room and down the hall to her bedroom. It's a large room with a couple windows draped with a combination of thick, dark curtains covered by prettier, lacey ones. A big queen sized bed covered by a soft, frilly comforter with large, cushy pillows inside smooth cases occupies the main portion of the room, its strong headboard and four wooden post etched by delicate flowing designs. A big oaken dresser and armoire set against two of the walls and a cushioned armchair with a reading lamp sits against a third. Pictures of doves and puppies decorate all of the walls. I carry her into the room and to the bed where I lay her down as close to the center as I can manage. I retrieve my bag from where I'd sat it at the hall's entrance in case I'd had to make a quick exit and return to the room. From the bag I pull the nylon straps that I use and start tying her in place. I raise her arms straight above her head, attaching the nylon to parts of her headboard and making it tight enough to hold her arms while allowing them just a smidgeon of movement. I make sure her elbows can bend a little and she can roll her wrist to help keep some of the blood flowing. Her legs I stretch down and spread open, using the nylon to attach them to either of the bed's foot posts. When I've finished I turn on the nightstand light and stand over her to admire the view. She's beautiful . . . Gorgeous . . . Just like the first time I'd saw her. That'd been at the local shopping center. Just six weeks prior. In the early evening. I saw her walking down one of the home décor isles and my eyes were locked. She was wearing a pink blouse and black skirt that day. Her back to me, the skirt accentuating the delicate roundness of her ass and slithering sensually down to where her nylon encased legs strutted from beneath it just inches above her knees. Those legs had quickly drawn my visual attentions from her beautiful ass down along their toned texture to the high heels on her feet. Already mesmerized by these things I felt myself being drawn even deeper into her aura as she stopped and turned to inspect an item. Her profile was idyllic. Above her waist the blouse wafted out where her healthy breast protruded from her chest. Higher still, her black hair hung loose and free inches below her shoulders and when she used her fingers to pull some of it behind her ear her beautiful facial features were more than just a mere compliment to the body beneath. I was struck by her resemblance to Cleopatra, or at least some of the images of the Nile Goddess given to us by Hollywood. Instantly I knew I had found my newest friend . . . My next conquest. I followed her that evening. First through the store . . . Then to her home . . . Her house . . . Where we were now . . . In her bedroom. She's dressed almost identical to that night. Upon the bed she lays, her curves accented and displayed by the clothing she wears. Her toned legs held softly within a pair of tan nylons, her feet held in open high heels, a slim strap of leather wrapped around her ankles. The black skirt she is wearing is nearly identical to the one that night, only this one hangs just inches shorter and has a short slit up along the one side. Right now it is crumpled, slightly disheveled, pulled part way up her thighs. Tonight her blouse is white with long sleeves and ruffles down the front. It, too, is in slight disarray. Where the top couple of buttons are undone one flap hangs messily to the side while the opposite flap is stretched tight and flat from the crumpling of the garment under her back. Still, her breasts rise and fall under the garment as she softly breathes in her induced slumber. Her black hair is still the same length and I quietly thank her for not having gotten it cut short between that night and this. It is splayed upon the pillow beneath her head, strands spread here and there, the whole of it cupping and brightly displaying her face with her now closed eyes and delicate lips that are parted in just a bare slit. Yes, she is beautiful. Now the waiting begins again. The waiting for the gas to wear off enough for me to rouse her and bring her to a point of consciousness where she will be able to fully comprehend what is happening. I know that this is at least twenty minutes away . . . possibly thirty. I have already waited, so a little more time won't be a problem. I've waited six weeks . . . Six weeks . . . Ever since that evening at the store. After I followed her home I started my research on her while I continued to follow her through the next days and weeks. I learned her name, Ivy Brown, and where she worked, a corporate office downtown where she was some kind of executive. I learned her comings and goings and her other habits. I learned that every Tuesday evening she visited that same shop and every Friday she worked late then went out for dinner with one or two co-workers. But best of all I learned that she lived alone . . . All alone. No husband, she'd been divorced seven months prior. No children, part of the reason for the divorce. No pets, no cats, dogs or even fish. Even better than this fact was that after her Friday night dinner she always got home late, after dark during this time of year, and rarely went anywhere else until leaving for work Monday morning. In addition to this, she'd only bought this house in the country after the divorce and didn't know any of the neighbors very well. The house itself was also another idyllic stroke of luck. It sat way back off the road with more than a dozen trees blocking most of the view. The nearest neighbor lived nearly half a mile away too, so it was easy for me to sneak around without being spotted accidentally by someone outside watering their porch plants. Also, between her road and the one a block behind it was a thick swath of woods that touched both of the end roads so I was able to approach her place without any witnesses as well. Actually, looking at all of this, I almost thought the woman was asking for me to pay her a visit. But I knew better. She'd just wanted some peace and quiet for the start of her new life. It just worked out really well for me was all . . . Really, really well. Checking my watch I see it's been fifteen minutes that I've been standing over her, admiring her beauty. Pulling myself away I go into the kitchen and pour two glasses of ice water, then return to the bedroom. From my bag I pull the cloth I use as a gag and tie it around her mouth, my fingers delicately caressing her cheek for a moment while I do. Under the circumstances I don't think her screams would be heard, its chilly outside so the house is closed up and the neighbors are so far away, so it's actually more for the psychological aspect that I'm using it this time. And that can't hurt. A few minutes later I start to revive her. I do this by gently tapping her cheek and softly calling her name. I want to slowly pull her up and out of the dreamscape in which she is presently enveloped by, rather than sharply and rudely awakening her. It takes a few seconds but she starts to roll her head and moan softly behind the gag. Her eyelids flutter, weakly at first, but soon they snap a couple of times. She's sharp and intelligent. Her eyes pop open seconds later, her head rolling so that she is staring straight up at me. Her limbs tug at the nylon cords holding them. In her eyes I see a mixture of emotions that is so recognizable by now that I don't even need to think about it to identify them. It is mainly fear along with a combination of shock, concern and question mixed with other, less prevalent, emotions. "Hello, Ivy," I half whisper, smiling down at her. "Mmm-gggg-mmm-mm," she mumbles into the gag, her arms and legs jerking at their restraints. "Settle down . . . Settle down," I sooth. "Don't hurt yourself." She continues to pull and tug at the ropes, her head now twisting on her neck as she struggles to see her wrist and ankles where the nylon is attached. "You need to calm down a little so you can listen to me," I tell her. "Calm down, now." She's panting now with her struggles, her chest heaving beneath her blouse, and a few droplets of sweat become visible on her brow. Her hair is being tossed about by her rolling head as she first fights to see the roping then stares up at me, then looks back to the restraints. Her clothing is becoming more and more disheveled as well. The skirt is riding higher and higher up her thighs, a third button snaps from the blouse and the garment becomes partially untucked from her skirt. The vision of all this is intoxicating to me. I take a small step back away from the bed so that I can take in the entire scene at once. Standing there staring down and watching her struggle against her situation as her eyes fill with more and more of the fear. There are two ways to break a lady's spirit in this situation . . . I could end it now . . . Stop her struggles with brute force. I could take a quick step forward, up to the bed's edge, slap her hard across the face and grab her throat with a stiff fingered grip then growl an order for her to stop it. She would freeze still in a second. Shocked and frightened into stillness. But I can also let her go her own route. Just stand back and watch while she tires herself out. Allow her own failure and the grinding at her wrists and ankles to burn the spirit from inside her. Let her loose some of her inner fire herself. All the while enjoying the show as I patiently wait. I have done both. I have done both and I have enjoyed both. And I have come to the conclusion that which tactic to use really depends solely on the lady herself. Some need the rough slap and manhandled approach at first. Others need themselves and their actions to be what weakens their spirit. Ivy is the latter. So I stand back and I watch. I watch her fight and groan. I listen to her angered rantings behind the gag and witness the flames in her eyes slowly dim. After a few minutes she settles down. She lays there panting heavily, her brow and the part of her chest bared by the opening of her blouse lightly coated with perspiration. She closes her eyes for a moment and groans unhappily as she accepts the position she is in. I reach down for a glass of ice water and sip from it as I stand silently above her, staring down and admiring her. One of the high heels came loose and has fallen from her foot and the bed to lay on the floor. The skirt is now nearly all the way up her thighs, its material just barely covering the area where her legs come together. The blouse is almost completely pulled free, one lower flap hanging open to expose part of her abdominal flesh and just hinting at her belly button. The top flaps are both hanging open now and the very top edges of a pretty, lacey bra can be seen peeking out from beneath them as her chest rises and falls with her panting. Her face is flushed, her eyes rolling around beneath her closed eyelids. After a moment or two those eyes slowly open and she stares back at me. There are many silent questions in those twin orbs, many pleadings too. I set the ice water back down and stand close to the bedside, smiling down at her. "Now, Ivy," I whisper. "Now that you're settled down I need to talk to you." Her eyes quickly dart around the room for a minute before settling back on me. She is looking for something, a way out of this . . . Maybe even some kind of weapon. She still has a fire in her. Good. "You're a very beautiful woman," I tell her, holding her eyes with mine now. "A very desirable lady." My one hand reaches out and gently caresses the blouse where it covers one of her breasts. She sucks in a breath as I touch her, tries to pull her body away from me. "Yes . . . Yes, a very beautiful woman," I repeat. My hand rolls and slides over her hidden breast, caressing and stroking the shapely mound. As I cup it gently and give it a soft squeeze I see her try to look away from me but I am staring intently into her eyes and it is hard for her to do so. Inside myself I can feel a need growing . . . A need that has been building for weeks . . . For six weeks. I pull my hand away from her chest and begin to undress myself, pulling at my shirt first, then undoing my pants. Ivy watches me, her eyes growing slightly wider with each passing second and movement of my hands. "Very beautiful," I repeat. I undress quickly, tossing my clothing to the side unceremoniously. From my bag I pull a small buck knife. As I step up to the bed Ivy's eyes bounce between mine, the knife and my bouncing hard cock. I grin down at her as I reach for her skirt and jerk it up around her waist. She starts to struggle again, her hips starting to bounce and twist as I fight with the garment. From behind the gag she is muttering, groaning and cussing at me. "I'm gonna fuck you, Ivy," I tell her, my voice growing rough. "I'm gonna fuck you and I'm gonna fuck you hard." I climb onto the bed and position my own legs atop her thighs, my weight helping to hold her down and reduce her struggling movements. With one hand I grab her one thigh, squeezing it as I push it down against the mattress to hold her even steadier. "I'm gonna stuff my hard cock into your pussy and fuck you with it," I hiss as I'm doing this. "I'm gonna stuff that sweet cunt of yours with my cock." She whimpers now behind the gag. Although I have her bottom half mostly subdued her upper torso continues to twist and fight against the nylon ropes. Fighting with this and the now balled up skirt I slip the knife's edge beneath the waistband of her nylons. It's razor sharp and when I pull it cuts through the material easily, slicing them down several inches. "Yea, I'm gonna fuck you hard, Ivy," I pant. "My cock's gonna be buried deep inside that sweet little pussy of yours." I work the knife around so that I can grip the now ripped nylons with my fingers. Trusting my weight and legs to hold her still enough for the moment I grab the nylons with my other hand as well. I jerk hard with both hands and the thin material shreds downward several inches. "Oh God," I sigh happily. The act has uncovered a pair of white lace panties which I had failed to notice until that moment. They ride across her hips on inch wide straps then plunge down between her legs with a delicateness that accentuates the small curves and impressions of her body. "Their beautiful," I grin. "Oohhh, I am going to fuck you so hard." I hesitate for only a moment before I grab at this garment and place the edge of my knife beneath the side strap. A sudden jerk and the material gives way almost as easily as the nylons. I quickly do the same to the opposite strap and then yank the panties away. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard, Ivy," I whisper as I raise the panties up in my fist and show them to her. "Mmmmmmmmmmmm," she whimpers sadly. The removal of the garment bares to me, for the first time, her sex. I stare down in utter fascination. Ivy keeps her pussy well cleaned and nearly completely shaved, with just a thin strip of neatly trimmed hairs running up either side and a small patch at the top. Now I fold up the knife and, reaching down, drop it into my bag while digging out the bottle of lubricant I brought. I quickly squeeze some into my hand and reach down to touch Ivy's pussy for the first time. As my hand makes contact I see her body freeze stiffly for just a second before she starts to buck and struggle under my weight with renewed vigor. "Yea, I'm gonna fuck you, you little whore," I growl now, my hunger boiling inside of me. "I'm gonna stuff this sweet-ass pussy of yours with my throbbing cock and fuck you deep and hard." I smear the lubricant around and push it into her with two fingers, penetrating her up to the first couple of knuckles before working them around a little and pumping them back and forth a few times. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard, slut," I tell her as my fingers delve past her lips. "I'm gonna fill this cunt of yours with my hard cock." Inside me the heat is burning madly now as I watch her struggle against her restraints while I continue to pump my fingers back and forth slightly. Her head is nearly bouncing upon her neck now as it rolls from side to side and jerks up so that she can glare angrily at me with her raging eyes. Her blouse is pulled this way and that from her actions and I see several glimpses of a white lace bra which matches the panties. Beneath my weight her legs are trying to buck me off, her ankles twisting at their ropes as she fights against me. But between her legs the action of my fingers and the lubricant are doing their job. She is moist now, against her will her own juices are flowing slightly and mixing with the lubricant. "Yea, I'm gonna fuck you, you little whore," I tell her. I pull my hand away from her pussy and add some of the lubricant to my hard cock. Then I climb off her thighs and fight my way in between them. Her lower body reacts to the disappearance of my weight and she starts to buck and jump hard. She tries to close her legs, tries to pull her thighs together and block my attack. I grab those thighs and push them apart, driving them away from each other and forcing her to open them even wider than they were before. I position myself between the two. Using my own thighs to keep her open while I grab my cock once more and guide it toward her sex. "I'm gonna fuck you, slut," I groan. I lower myself toward her, guiding my cock at her lubed slit. I stare down at this, watching myself getting closer and closer to her. As the tip of my cock touches her slit I push forward slightly, spreading her lips and forcing the head into her. Now I raise my eyes, drawing them along her body and to her face. I see the blouse completely pulled from her skirt, see her bared abdominal area and the bottom of her belly button. A little higher her chest is rising and falling with heaving breaths. The blouse hangs open and I can see the top edges of her bra where the milky flesh mounds of her breasts roll skyward. Above her delicate neck her face is contorted in an expression of shear panic and she stares up at me with sadness filled eyes brimming with tears. Ivy's Rapist Ch. 01 I drive my hips forward, plunging my cock fully into her pussy with a ferocious blast. As I become buried completely I grind myself into her, rolling my hard cock around inside of her sex as I smile down at her. "You feel that, slut?" I hiss. "You feel my cock inside your hot little pussy? You feel it filling your pussy?" She whimpers beneath the gag, a couple of tears slipping from her eyes and rolling down her cheeks. I pull back, feeling the tightness of her unwilling muscles gripping at my cock as I withdraw most of it. Then I plunge myself forward once more. "God you're beautiful, slut," I hiss as I begin to steadily pump myself in and out of her sex. I do it slowly at first, taking a long time to draw myself back then reinsert the full length of my cock. I rock my hips back and forth, my waist rising and falling with a slow, steady rhythm. Beneath me she is crying silently, tears drip from her eyes every few moments. She rolls her face away and stares off into the distance at the wall. My rocking motion causes her body to rock as well. I watch with fascination as her breast bounce and roll within the confines of the bra beneath the blouse. Between her legs the steady action is causing her juices to flow a little more freely, their lubrication easing my assault. As the minutes pass I feel myself growing hotter and hotter, feel the burning heat of my passion growing in my balls. My pace slowly increases, my hips pulling and driving at a steadily more rapid pace. "Feel my cock fucking you," I growl down at her. "Feel me pumping your slut pussy with my cock, bitch." I stare at the place where her blouse buttons close the garment just at the very edges of her breasts, her bra peeking out from under it with tantalizing sexuality. I watch as they bounce and roll with my increased driving force, watch her blouse poof and flow against her body. She is still staring at the wall and small whimpers are mewing their way past the gag over her mouth. I drive myself back and forth, pushing my stiff cock deep into her then pulling back to drive forward once again. "Fuck yea, bitch," I growl. "Feel me fuck your pussy. Feel my cock pounding that slut pussy of yours." I reach for her blouse with one hand and grab it where the buttons hold. I yank on the garment, hard. Buttons fly. It's torn open and in a flash I see her tits encased only in the white lace bra now, their smooth roundness flowing with the rest of her body. She squeaks and jumps beneath me at the suddenness of this, her head rolling up to see what I have done and look at my face. The expression she wears is amazing and it drives my heated passion over the edge. "Yea slut, feel my cock fucking you . . . Feel me fucking you. My hard cock filling your slut pussy, fucking you like a dirty little whore." I push myself deep into her and grind my hips into her body as I feel my cock twitch and jerk, spraying a load of hot semen deep into her sex. "Oooohhhhhhhhhh yeeaaa," I groan happily. Ivy continues to look up at me as I stare at her beautiful breasts so delicately displayed before me, my hips shoving into her and my cock quickly spilling the seed from my balls. I hold myself there for a minute, simply enjoying the view and the feeling of ecstasy that climaxing brings. Then, with a deep breath, I pull myself up and off of her, throwing my legs over the bed side and standing up. She looks down along my body at my withering cock shining with a mixture of juices. I smile down at her and reach for the glass of ice water. "That was real good," I comment as I take a sip. "For a first time it was really good. I can't wait to see what the rest of tonight has to offer." Her eyes leap from where they have been dejectedly staring at my crotch to stare with increased concern at my face. "That's right, Ivy. This is not just a one time shot thing here," I inform her. "I'm not done yet, not by a long shot." She lays there, tied to her bed, her blouse ripped open, her bra encased breasts exposed, her skirt balled up around her waist, her nylons ripped away exposing her pussy where my own semen is slowly leaking from her slit. She lays there and stares up at me unable to believe what I just said or what the implications of it means. I take another sip of the ice water and grin at her. Continued Ivy's Rapist Ch. 02 Ivy is laying on her bed with her arms tied above her head and her feet tied to the bottom bedposts. Her blouse is torn and laying open exposing her beautiful breasts held within a white lace bra. Her black skirt is a disheveled ball around her waist. Her nylons are torn and pulled open, baring the tops of her legs and her abused sex where I have just finished fucking her, a thin trickle of white semen can be seen dripping from her red, swollen slit. Above the gag over her mouth her eyes stare at me in disbelief. Not so much over the act that I have just finished performing, but at the news I have just laid on her. "Yea, you thought this was all over. That I was just gonna put on my clothes and go trotting on out of here all happy and carefree now that I've fucked you once." I chuckle as I sip at my glass of ice water. I stand above her, naked, my cock shimmering with the drying juices from having fucked her delicate pussy. "Well, I'm here to tell you that that just is not happening." I take a step forward and set the glass on the night stand. Then I reach out and gently stroke her black hair, moving a few strands away from her face. I lean down and stare deep into her eyes, seeing the mixture of shame and fear inside of them. "See, I've been blessed with two things," I tell her. "A lack of a conscience and a ravenous sex drive, one that would make any man, even a young one, jealous. So I ain;t leaving until I've had my fill." I stand back up then and tower over her. "Now, I'm willing to bet that you gotta go pee right about now. And depending on how much you had to drink with dinner, it could be a pretty powerful urge too." I see in her expression her own realization at the correctness of my statement. "Problem is, I don't think it's safe to untie you and let you use the toilet." I shrug. "So, the only thing I can say is either hold it or piss your bed, right where you lay." She looks at me with a surprised and shocked glare in her eyes. "And I can tell you now, no matter how hard you try, you aren't gonna hold it long enough. You will end up peeing your bed. So you might as well get it over with and avoid the pain of trying to hold it." I turn away and reach for my pants that are laying on the floor by the armchair. After I pull them on I stroll into the bathroom to relieve myself. While I stand before her toilet pissing I glance around the facilities. It's a master bath, a door leads into it right from the bedroom, but it is not very big or luxurious. The single sink, toilet and tub are all plain. A set of plastic, see-through sliding doors serve as the shower curtain. There are a few decorations around the room but not many. She watches me as I stroll back past the bed on my way to the chair but I ignore her. I reach into my bag and pull out a magazine. Sitting down in the chair I flip open the magazine and start reading an article that is earmarked. Out of the corner of my eye I see Ivy squirming on the bed. She is trying to find a semi-comfortable position while concentrating on holding her own pee. The restraints hold her limbs secure and she ends up in an awkward half-on-the-side position, her face turned away from me. I can just see the start of a gently curving mound as one of her ass cheeks peek out at me. Over the next thirty minutes or so I read the magazine while watching her through the corner of my eye. She squirms around every few minutes, struggling to find a more comfortable position while fighting the urge to relax and pee. Occasionally I can hear a muffled sob from beneath the gag but she is quite good at keeping her crying hidden and quiet. I leave her alone during this, letting her mind work over the details of what has happened and what is going to happen. She is a strong willed woman, her inner fire had burned in her eyes even after the initial rape, but she can be broken . . . She will be broken. They all are broken eventually. Some quicker than others, some slower. But I have yet to fail at any. It is actually kind of surprising how easily some of them have broken. You watch them in their lives and you think that they are strong and resilient, that it would take a massive blow to even shake the foundation of their resilience. But then you get them alone, you bring them to this point, and you find that all the outer walls were nothing more than a mirage. Then there's the others. The ones who seem so meek and fragile, so easily flustered and brought to tears. But you throw them into an extreme situation like this and suddenly you find that their inner strength is what myths are created from. Of course you always find the ones who are exactly as they appear too. The ones who seem weak and helpless and end up breaking within the first seconds of the initiation. And the ones like Ivy here. The ones who not only appear strong as mountains, heavily fortified against the ways of the world and the damage that it can cause, but truly are. But no mind, she will break. She will fold and crumble, her iron clad walls of inner fortitude evaporating just like everyone else's. Yes, she will crumble. I decide it's been long enough. The sight of her disarrayed clothing and struggling body are working their magic inside of me. I set the magazine on the floor and stand up. She doesn't notice, her back is mostly toward me, her eyes facing the opposite wall, her mind too occupied to notice any of the sounds I make as I step toward the bed. For a minute I simply stand over her, looking down and admiring the view she presents. Her black hair is a tussled mess now, having been thrown and tossed about with her actions. A few strands lay across the visible profile of her face along with the evidence of several dried tears. Her eyes are closed so she has no idea that I am there. Her white blouse, the thing that had been so well ironed and postured through her day, is now a wrinkled mess, the loose flap of it laying behind her on the bed so that her torso is bare, except the lace bra still cupping her breasts. The side angle I have shows me the one on her right, its luscious mound pushing outward inside the lace material, the top curve delicately displayed. Above her head her arms are stretched, held by the rope and bent in an awkward attempt at comfort, the long sleeves of her blouse being stretched and held near her wrist by the buttoned cuffs. At and just below her waist the black skirt is a rumpled mass of material, folds and creases everywhere. A half moon orb of her one ass cheek is visible, the soft, delicate flesh held tone by firm muscles. From beneath the skirt her legs shoot down, the nylons around them now rumpled and ripped, their tops pulled most of the way off her waist and hips. One high heel has remained intact, its straps holding firm to the ankle next to the rope holding it. I sigh quietly and reach down to brush at her cheek, stirring the loose strands of hair laying across it. She jumps from my sudden touch, her body jerking and her eyes flying open as she turns a little to look up at me. A soft, startled yelp is heard from beneath the gag. Instantly the smell of urine invades the air. In her eyes I see a mixture of disgust, relief and sadness. I grin down at her knowingly. "You pee'ed the bed, Ivy. You're a dirty little girl." I tell her in a soft voice. "I don't know why you fought it for so long. As I told you, it was inevitable." This seems to rekindle some of the fire inside of her and she jerks herself onto her back, rolling and jerking at her restraints once more. I can tell she is cussing at me behind the gag, her muted sounds flaring with the anger she is feeling. I simply remain where I am and continue to stroke at her cheek even as she jerks and tries to pull her face away from my touch. Her bodily actions cause the blouse to stir and flutter, her bra encased breasts to roll and bounce, jiggle under the exaggerated movements she is making. Her legs twist and roll too, the nylons being yanked even further down her thighs by the actions. I allow her a few moments of all this before I decide it is time to stop her. I am growing concerned about her wrists and ankles. Her violent actions are causing the ropes to cut at the flesh in these places. With a sudden growl of exasperation I throw myself onto the bed, draping my one leg across her lower torso. The hand stroking her cheek slips back and I fill it with a fistful of her hair, yanking it up and back so that I have control of her head. My other hand slaps down onto her upper chest with a flat palm, the cup between thumb and forefinger just centimeters below her throat. "Settle down, bitch," I growl. "Settle down before I'm forced to hurt you bad. You're only rubbing your wrists raw, scraping your ankles sore and you aren't causing me any strife. So stop hurting yourself, you bitch." Now her eyes are filled with renewed fright, they stare up at me in shocked torment. But her body is still as she freezes in place. I watch as her nostrils flare from her heaving breaths and wait for a moment as they settle down, her heart slowing, her breathing becoming less violent. "That's better," I whisper after another moment. "Now, I said I'm here for a while and I meant it. That means the time while I'm here as well as after I leave can go one of two ways. Which way, is entirely up to you. You can spend the time tied up like this, pissing the bed and then laying in it, sleeping in your own urine after I leave . . ." I pause here, allowing her brain a few seconds to absorb the mental image of what I have just said. "Or, you can behave yourself and be allowed your freedom once I leave. But it's up to you. You have to decide just how bad you want this whole thing to be. How much shame, humiliation and discomfort you can handle." I watch as her eyes slowly close and see another tear leak from the corner of one. I hear her breathing and see her chest rise and fall softly. I can tell her mind is in a turmoil, that it is being pushed hard to absorb and accept everything that has been happening. I release the hold I have in her hair and pull my hand away from her throat, pulling my legs into position so that I am sitting comfortably astride her hips, my body sitting atop her waist. My eyes rove down from her face, sliding along her neck and across her chest to where her beautiful breasts are rising and falling inside the bra. They are so delicately displayed, so lusciously exposed, their milky mounds rising from her body. I reach out and cup one of her tits in each of my hands. The lace material tickles my palms. I gently squeeze and push the mounds, plying the flesh to form and shape under my touch. Her eyes remain closed as I do this. I know that she is aware but trying to ignore it. I continue to cup and squeeze the twin orbs inside their lace cups, sliding my hands up along the sides of them and tickling the upper, bared curves where they disappear into the bra. I push them together and watch their pliant flesh mold into new shapes of raised height. I palm the very tops and witness their semi-flattening shapes. I squeeze and maul them through the bra, rolling them this way and that, fascinated by the beauty of their shapes, the feel of their flesh and the delicateness of their prison. Under the bra her nipples start to harden. At first I am only able to feel this through the thin material, but soon their stiffening shapes are visible too. They are growing hard and firm from my attentions, responding to my touch, stiffening beneath the garment and pressing at its material. She whimpers from the mixture of inner pain from what I am doing to her and shame at her body's reaction to it. A couple more tears appear from her closed eyes. She is forcibly holding them closed now, I can see the strain on her brow from her fighting the urge to open her lids and glare at me as I play with her breasts. Inside I can feel the fires heating up. Inside my pants I feel my balls warming up, I feel my cock twitching into an awakened state. I cup and squeeze the white encased mounds, rolling their pliant flesh in my hands. Her head rolls to the side. Unable to stop herself completely any longer I see her eyes open slightly, the orb within rolling to look up from the corner of that slit. She whimpers again, her mind sadly recognizing the effect that her hard nipples indicate my attentions are having. "You like having your tits played with, don't you slut?" I quietly growl. "You like it." She whimpers again as she forces her eyes closed once more, her head rolling to the other side and back again. "Yea, you like having your tits played with. Your nipples are hard." My own fires are heating up even more, my cock growing inside of my pants. Releasing the cupped hold I have on her mounds I grab the top edges of her bra and yank down hard, jerking at it from the sides and top at once, tearing and ripping at the material. The stitches give way and the cupping material pulls away from the strapping. Her breasts bound into full view, the hard, dark red nipples shining at their tops. The fleshy mounds roll atop her chest with their new freedom, their soft flesh vibrating with their release. She inhales sharply, her chest rising with the sudden intake of air. Her head snaps straight and she stares up at me with wide open eyes again, her shock and anger glaring brightly. "They're beautiful," I whisper. Now I reach out and cup her bared breasts, the soft flesh caressing the palms of my hands. I cup and squeeze them, roll their delicateness around in my hands and caress the hard nipples. I stare amazed as her nipples become even firmer under my direct attentions. After a few minutes of this I grip the outer sides of them and push them together, watching the mounds pile into one another. I bend down and hold my face an inch away from them. Through the tops of my eyes I see her roll her head away and close her eyes tightly once more. My tongue flickers out and strokes across the top of one nipple. Beneath me I sense a short, sharp intake of breath by her. My tongue flickers again and again. I brush it over and over the sensitive nub, moistly caressing the hard little button. A minute later I turn my head slightly and treat the other nipple to the same attention before bending lower and kissing it gently. As my lips caress the hard button I slither my tongue between them and stroke it again, then I open my mouth and lock my lips around her nipple, suckling it into my mouth and loving it with my oral wetness. She is whimpering more now, the gag muting her combination of complaints and needful desires. Her head rolls to the opposite side and settles for a second before rolling back again. I continue to suckle on this nipple for a minute before transferring my lips to cover the other and suckle at it. While I hold the hard nub within my wet mouth I suck deeply on it and roll my tongue over it again and again. Forcing her eyes to remain closed Ivy rolls her head from side to side as if saying "No" silently over and over. She is whimpering and cursing at me from behind the gag as she mentally fights the building heat my tit sucking is creating in her body. The whole thing is too much for me and I leap from the bed, tearing at my pants as I watch her body rock upon the mattress from my sudden movement, her tits rolling with it. She turns to watch as I quickly drop my pants, my now hard cock popping into view. She stares at this, a mixture of sadness and fear in her eyes. Once my pants are laying in a pile on the floor again I reach past her and grab two of the pillows at the head of her bed. Placing my palm beneath her ass I lift her up, giving the soft flesh there a gentle squeeze as I do, then cram the pillows beneath her. I glance at her pussy while I do this and see a thin sheen of wetness, a mixture of our earlier encounter, her pee and a dampening that my attentions to her breasts has caused. It looks inviting but I know that it is not wet enough so I grab the bottle of lubricant from my bag once more and squirt some onto my hand. As I stand over her, watching her squirm unconsciously under the glare of my eyes I grip my hard cock and give it a few strokes, spreading the lubricant over the fleshy pole. Her eyes watch me do this, they stare at my stroking hand and the rigid pole being caressed. I drop the bottle back into my bag and start to climb onto the bed between her legs. She jumps as I do this, attempting to pull her body away from me as my hand touches her thigh and my knees slip between her spread legs. "No sense in fighting it, slut," I chuckle. "I am gonna fuck you again." With the pillows under her ass her hips are jutted upward, raised for my penetration as I kneel there between her thighs, my hand still slowly stroking my cock. I lean forward a little and aim the rigid member at her slit then press forward. As the head of my cock parts her pussy lips she rolls her face to the side and closes her eyes once more, refusing to watch me as I enter her. I grip her hips with either of my hands and slowly push forward, feeling the muscles of her cunt wrap themselves around the circumference of my cock as it gradually penetrates her. "Yea, slut, feel my cock filling your pussy," I groan as I stuff the entire length into her. "Feel my cock stuffing your sweet pussy." I grind myself into her then, rolling my buried cock around inside her sex. I rock my hips slightly, pulling only an inch or two out before pushing it back inside to grind at her some more. Looking down at her I admire the way her beautiful breasts rest atop her chest, the torn remains of her lace bra hanging there, the strapping held in place. My actions cause her body to rock slightly with me and her tits roll gently with the movement. I reach up with my hands and grab a hold of them, squeezing and plying at the fleshy mounds with the still hard nipples atop them. They mold and form beneath my manipulation, their soft flesh rolling under my fingers and in my grip. I stroke my thumbs across the tops, sliding them across the sensitive nipples with a gentle, barely perceptible touch. I feel her body tense and jerk ever so slightly as I do this and I know that bolts of pleasure are being created within her by my touch. "Oh yea, you do like having your tits played with, don't you slut? It feels good having my hands all over your tits, having me play with them and touch your hard nipples." I continue to massage her breasts as I rock my hips back and forth with a growing need, sliding more of my cock out of her before slipping it back forward and into her. I palm the tops of her tits, smashing down on the soft mounds and covering her nipples with my hands. I grip at them, squeezing their soft flesh with slightly more pressure. She remains with her face turned to one side, her eyes closed. Once more I slip my hands down to the sides of her tits and push them together, pressing their flesh against each other. Slowing my fucking actions I bend down. Holding her tits steady I drop my mouth over one of the hard nipples and slide my tongue across its sensitive flesh as I suckle on the mound. I hear a soft whimper slip from beneath her gag and smile as I continue to suckle and lick at her nipple. I pull my mouth away and turn it over to the other nipple. As I lick and suckle on this one I hear a few more whimpers and feel her chest being raised up ever so slightly. This ignites the burning inside of myself and I feel a need growing with rapid expansion. I jerk my mouth away from her tit and raise myself up so that I'm kneeling high above her once more. My hands remain fixed on her tits and I begin to maul and squeeze at their pliant flesh with a hungry vigor. I rock my hips into her now, pushing and pulling nearly the entire length of my cock into and out of her pussy. Around it I can feel a wetness growing, can feel the muscles of her pussy contracting from my assault. Ivy's Rapist Ch. 02 Above my hands that are squeezing at her tits she rolls her head to the opposite side, her eyes opening to bare slits as she grabs a quick glimpse of me fucking her. "Yea, slut, feel me fuck you. Feel my cock fucking your pussy," I tell her hungrily. "You like having your tits played with. You got hot when I was sucking on them, didn't you slut? You like it. You like having a hard cock in your pussy while your tits are being sucked on." Then I sense her hips rising up and pushing into me with delicate, barely perceptible movements. I realize that she is fucking me back with very minimalist actions. This happens all the time. Is it a needful reaction or simply a programmed response? I don't know. Nor do I care. It feels good and the idea of it always blows my mind. I rock my hips into her faster, my hands continuing to play with the beautiful mounds of her tits. I grip their sides and roll my thumbs across the rock hard nipples that top them. Pushing and pounding my cock into her I feel her pussy muscles clenching weakly at me. Her hips jerk slightly as they grab at my stiff rod for a brief second, her body overpowering her mind for that moment. I drive myself in and out of her with a growing, building need. Pounding . . . Thrusting . . . Driving. I can feel my nuts boiling and my cock growing stiffer as I ram it into her. My now pounding hips are making her own body rock upon the bed and the pillows, bouncing her ass up at me as I slam myself in and out of her pussy. My hands continue to maul and squeeze her tits, my fingers and thumbs stroking at the nipples that are now rock hard and glowing red. "I'm fucking you bitch," I growl as my climax nears. "I'm fucking your sweet little pussy with my hard cock. Yea, I'm fucking your pussy, bitch." Now I am burning with my lust and I cram my entire cock deep into her. I groan as I feel it start to unleash the spray of semen that my balls have cooked up. My hands grip and squeeze hard at her tits, forcing the pliant flesh to escape between my fingers. I am mauling the soft mounds, squeezing hard as I roll the hard nipples beneath my palms, the excitement and desire of my climax causing me to loose hold of my own senses. For just another second I feel her muscles grip my cock and squeeze it tightly as her body nearly climaxes as well. Simultaneously she whimpers sadly beneath me, her mind screaming at her body and telling it to stop its natural reactions. Moments later I hold myself buried inside her while my cock spurts the last of my semen into her and begins to soften. I quickly climb off her and the bed. Again my quick departure causes the mattress to bounce and her body flows with it. I smile as her tits roll atop her chest, the red, hard nipples shining with my drying saliva. I stand over her for a minute and stare down, watching her hold her face turned away from me, her eyes shut. I smile as I once more reach for my pants and begin pulling them on. "Yes, this is going to be so much fun," I sigh. Continued Ivy's Rapist Ch. 03 Ivy is laying on her back atop the bed, her ass and hips raised up by the two pillows I have stuffed under her. Her black hair is tossed and messy, splayed everywhere about her head. Her face is covered by ruined makeup and tears in various states of drying, the gag over her mouth tied firmly in place. Her white blouse, now stained by sweat, lays rumpled and disheveled beneath her, the sleeves stretching up above her head on her bound arms, the nylon rope holding her wrists near the bed's headboard. The torn bra, straps still sliding up over her shoulders and around her back, display her rolling breasts topped by still swollen, hard, red nipples. Her black skirt is also a disheveled mess, twisted and wrapped around her waist, balled up and shoved out of the way. At her crotch her pussy is red, worn and weary from the two fuckings she has received. A mixture of juices drip from between the swollen lips. Her nylons are now barely holding on to her legs, their thin material torn and shredded well below the initial cut and tear and bunching up down around her knees. Miraculously her one high heel has managed to remain attached and in place, a single piece of her previously defined persona holding tightly on through this ordeal. Around her ankles more nylon rope is tied, stretching out to the bottom bedposts and holding her legs open and still. She holds her eyes tightly shut as she lays there panting, a scowl visible around the gag. After a minute I reach out and jerk the pillows from beneath her. I figure she probably needs to pee again and I don't want these stained with the scent of urine. Her body jerks and falls as I remove them, she struggles to keep her eyes closed even as her curiosity and shock cause them to want to open. "Ivy?" I whisper. Her eyelids fight with themselves, half of her wanting to open them, the other half refusing. "Ivy? Would you like some water?" I ask. Slowly her eyes then open, her pupils staring straight at me with a mixture of hope and anger. "Are you thirsty?" Barely perceptible her head nods a silent "Yes." I step closer to the head of the bed so that I can stare straight down into her eyes. My one hand reaches out and brushes at a few strands of hair that are on her cheek. I see her fight against the urge to jerk her face away from my touch, to pull away from my fingers. "I have some ice water here," I tell her, my eyes sliding to the nightstand for a second, then back. "If you are good I'll let you have some." I pause then, allowing my words to sink in. "It's not that I'm worried about anyone hearing you scream," I shrug with a slight smile. "After all, you know your house. You know how far away your neighbors are . . ." Once more I pause so that she can think about this herself for a second. "I just don't like it, that's all. I don't like it when a lady screams in my face," I explain. "So . . . If you promise not to scream, I will remove the gag and let you have some water. Okay?" She is looking at me, her eyes now filled with sadness and only a tiny, tiny sparkle of the fire she had when she'd first arrived home earlier that evening. She is thinking about my words, realizing how right I am about her neighbors and the futility in screaming. She is weighing her desire for liquid with her need to upset me, trying to decide if she will scream or not. She is going to say she won't, she is going to promise not to . . . But she is not sure yet whether or not she actually will. Slowly, very slowly, her head nods an answer. I don't know what her decision is, but I have to give her the chance. If she does behave, the water will do her good, help her continue through my own fun in a healthier, more enjoyable fashion for myself. If she doesn't . . . Well, I can always enjoy the additional stress and mental torture I will give her. I bend over and slip my hands behind her head where the gag is fastened. A simply tug and pull and the object is slipped from her face, pulled away. Ivy instinctively works her jaw a few times, opening and closing her mouth, sliding her tongue over her lips. They are lovely lips too. They are soft and delicate. I feel a second's disappointment at not having been able to see them during the last couple of hours. I also regret that I will never be able to gently kiss them, to feel their delicate touch upon my own lips. She doesn't scream, her need for refreshment stronger than her desire to torment me in anyway she can. I have a straw in my bag and I use this to allow her a couple of long sips from the ice water. I watch her lips wrap themselves around the thin implement, watch her suck at it, drawing the liquid up through the clear tool and into her mouth. "Not too much," I warn, pulling the glass away after a couple of swallows. "Too much, too fast is not good for you." I set the glass back on the nightstand then lift my own water to my lips and take a drink. "Wh- Why?" Ivy ask, her voice shaky and slightly harsh. I set my own glass down and smile at her, understanding. "Because," I tell her, my fingers once more stroking her cheek. "Because I want to . . . Because I can . . . Because." Standing there, staring down at her, watching her nostrils start to flare, seeing the fire rising up in her eyes, I know that she is about to make a mistake . . . One for her at least. The hand that is caressing her cheek drops quickly and my fingers fill themselves with her hair. I jerk her head back, forcing her neck to bend and her chin to raise up. I bend down and put my face inches away from hers, my eyes glaring into her orbs. "Don't fucking think about it, bitch," I growl. "Don't even." She inhales sharply, the fire in her eyes wavers. "I can leave you just like this once I leave . . . All weekend long. Leave you tied up and dirty, fucked and vulnerable and it wouldn't bother me one bit," I tell her. "I can leave you lying in you own piss and shit . . . Your arms and legs dying for circulation . . . Tingling . . . Aching. I can and I will if you try anything stupid. I promise." We remain like that for several seconds, our eyes locked to one another's as I convey my sincerity through mine and she searches within herself for the answer to her own torment. Eventually her lids lower, she sighs dejectedly and I know she understands the depth of my own determination. "That's good, Ivy," I tell her, letting her know that I understand what she has just done. "That's good." I release her hair and straighten back up. As I stare down at her I realize the smell of urine is once again pungent in the air. "You did it again, Ivy," I chuckle softly. "You pee'd your bed again." She rolls her face away from me in disgust. I remain standing over her for a few minutes as I debate what to do next. It is now nearing two a.m. and I feel the need for a shower. I decide to allow her one more sip of water before I replace the gag while I am occupied. When I move to put the gag back over her mouth she looks at me with pleading eyes. "Please," she whispers. "Sorry, Ivy," I shrug and slip the implement into place. In her bathroom I find the clean towels then turn on the hot water. While I shower I think about Ivy and what I might do during the following hours. These thoughts cause my inner desires to reawaken. When I come back out of the bathroom Ivy is breathing quietly, resting uncomfortably. Her eyes are closed. Her mind has shut down for a few minutes, taking a necessary escape for the moment. I stand next to the bed for several minutes simply staring down at her, admiring the beauty of her, the shape of her body, the rise of her breast and the delicate roll of her hips. She is a thing of beauty, a delicate woman who has been assaulted in ways that only she can truly understand. And she is my victim. The power of it, the thrill of being her master against her will is exhilarating. It feeds my inner urgings, both as a human and as a man. It pushes me toward another round of excitement, toward another explosion of desire. I am clean and naked, the towel I used to dry off laying on the floor around my feet. I continue to stare down at Ivy in her imprisoned position as I think about the things I long to do. Eventually I reach out and touch her, my hand lightly caressing her flesh where her blouse is moved aside. Beneath my touch I sense her nerves quiver, feel her body jerk. She is awake and alert but trying to ignore me once again, trying to pretend that I am not there. "Want some more water, Ivy?" I ask in a quiet voice. I see her start to turn, see her begin to roll toward me, her eyes opening and sliding to their corners so that she can see me. I reach out and remove the gag once again after giving her a look that tells her I still expect her to be quiet, that I don't want to hear her scream. I allow her a few more sips of the water before taking the glass away and setting it on the nightstand once more. In order to take the drink she has rolled completely on her back once again. I stare at her breasts, the beauty of their roundness, the swelling mounds of delicate flesh which jiggle upon her chest. I reach down and touch one of them, my fingers tracing a light trail over the softness. Ivy jerks as I do this, her body trying to escape my touch. "Oh, come now, Ivy," I chuckle. "You know you like having your tits touched, having them played with. I saw that before. I saw the way your body responded to my manipulations." She closes her eyes as her face turns quickly away from me, an attempt to deny to both of us what I am saying. I climb onto the bed and straddle her waist. I hear her quietly whimper as my weight shifts the bed, see her body squirming in a vain attempt to escape as I stretch my leg over her. Now I sit atop her, staring down at her breasts, her sideways turned head above them. I reach out and cup her breasts, my hands fondling them, holding them, massaging their soft flesh. As I do this her breath catches in her throat once again and a new batch of tears can be seen sliding along part of her cheek, winding their way through the loose strands of her hair. Silently I play with her tits for several minutes, squeezing and plying the delicate flesh. I cup and fondle them again and again, my fingers sliding along their upraised shape, touching and brushing across her areola. Eventfully I see that my attentions are having an effect. Her nipples start to harden, the blood rushing to them causing the darker flesh to change in color slightly. I continue to caress the twin mounds, loving them with my hands and fingers, cupping and stroking their beauty. Ivy whimpers as her nipples rise and stiffen, their growing hardness indicating her body's betrayal to her mind. "You like having your tits played with, don't you, Ivy?" I sigh quietly. "Like having them touched and manipulated. Like the feel of hands massaging them." Fighting to keep her face turned away she tries to ignore my words but a rattling in her throat gives me the answer I want. "Yes you do, Ivy. You like having your beautiful tits played with. Like having them touched. It turns you on." Ever since I began touching her in this way she has remained frozen in place, her breathing the only movement of her body. But now I detect a slight shifting beneath me, notice her torso wiggling a little as she pushes herself down further into the mattress. On top of her breasts her nipples grow to rock hardness, the little nubs standing erect. They twist and flow beneath my attentions as I tweak them with my fingers, roll them over and twirl them. More rattlings are audible in her throat now, her whimpers growing more sad. I shift myself, slide backwards so that I can lean down and put my mouth on her tits. Holding them I present their lovely flesh to myself and lower my lips around one of her nipples. As I suck in deeply on the hard nub I swish my tongue across it, licking and lapping at the sensitive nub. "Ooh God," Ivy whimpers, her chest reflexively rising slightly. She is crying again, her body's reaction to my mouth causing her mind extreme pain. I pull my mouth away and smile up at her for a brief second before dropping to her other nipple. I suck on this one for longer, rolling it over and over in my mouth with my tongue. I suckle and lick it while my hand massages the mound of flesh it holds. Moments later I straighten back up and look down at her. She still holds her face rigidly away, her closed eyes pointing toward the wall across the room as tears squeeze past their lids one at a time. My hands continue to massage and manipulate her breasts, my fingers squeezing and caressing the pliant flesh. After a moment I bend down once more. I hold her tits together, pushing the luscious mounds together and raising her hard nipples high into the air. I hold my mouth above one, my eyes watching her as I stroke my tongue out and across the sensitive nub. As my wet tongue caresses the hard nipple I see Ivy's eyes clench closed tighter, see her winch slightly as she takes a sharp intake of breath. My tongue flickers out again and caresses her nipple once more, then again and again. It flickers and caresses the stiff nub several more times as I continue to watch her through the tops of my eyes. With each caress I see her flinch, see her eyes clamp tighter shut while her body slowly rises up to push her breasts closer to my attentions. Then, after doing this with both nipples for several, several minutes I drop my mouth down and over one of the hard nubs quickly, locking my lips onto her flesh and suckling deeply at her. "Mmm-mmmm," Ivy whimpers in her throat as her body reflexively lifts her tit to me, feeding me the tender flesh. Through my upper eyes I see her face twitch, see the pain that her body's response is giving her mind and it thrills me to watch. I know she is cursing herself, calling herself many names and hating what my tit sucking is doing to her. But she cannot stop it. The series of events, the pounding that her pussy has already received twice coupled by the attentions I am giving her sensitive breasts are combining to remove her mind from the control of her body and it is responding. I suckle on her one tit for a few minutes than quickly jerk my lips to the other. I swirl my tongue over and over her nipple, licking and caressing it as I suck on her flesh and my fingers massage them. All of this is having its effect on me as well. I feel my own blood rushing to my cock, feel it growing stiffer and stiffer as I continue to play with Ivy's tits. Soon my raging lust is too much for me to ignore. Shifting around atop her, slipping my legs and my hips this way then that, I work to get myself between her tied open legs while retaining my mouth lock upon her nipple. Beneath me I feel her shifting as well, feel her body rolling and pushing as she senses my intentions. Some of her movements are a vain attempt at resistance, useless maneuverings to keep me from my destination, but some of them are actually helpful, her body's own response to the need I have been creating. Soon I feel my legs drop between hers. I feel the wetness of her mattress at my knees from where she has pee'd but this does not bother me as my lust is too much in control at this point. Squirming and shoving I force her legs further open by pushing my hips at her inner thighs. A moment later I am forced to release one of her tits so that I can reach between us and guide my now hard cock at her sex. As my fingers slip down across her crotch I feel a wetness coating them, feel the juices of her sex coating my digits. She is wet and juicy, hot from the long attentions I have shown her tits. Excitedly I slip a couple of my finger tips into her slit, slip them through her dampness. I feel her hips jerk beneath me as I do, feel them jump at the slight penetration and the rubbing of her swollen clit. This makes my desires flame up higher and hotter than I have know them to be in a long time. I quickly abandon her pussy to grab my cock and guide it toward that which my fingers have just left. When the head of my cock presses against her opening, the curvature of it slipping past her walls, opening her up to me, Ivy whimpers again as her hips reflexively lift toward my penetration. She is hating what I am doing and how her body is responding, but she cannot stop it. I pull my hand back up to grab at her tit again, cupping the two of them and running my thumbs across her hard nipples as I slowly drop my hips forward, gradually filling her sex with my rigid cock. "Mmm-mmm noooooo," Ivy whimpers, her neck straining to turn her face even further away. "Nooooo please." She isn't talking to me, isn't asking me to not do that which I am doing. Instead she is speaking to herself, trying to tell her body not to respond, trying to stop herself from experiencing the pleasure I am creating. My cock is soon buried deep inside of her, my pelvis grinding against her crotch as I roll my stiff cock around inside of her. Her wetness coats me, covers my flesh with her juices. I stare down at her, at her tits that I am playing with, the stiff nipples slipping beneath my sliding thumbs. I shift my hands so that I can pinch at her nipples, tweak them between forefinger and thumb. I tug on them gently for a second then do it harder. More tears appear on her cheeks as her hips instinctively raise up and grind back into me. "Oh yea, Ivy," I huff enthusiastically. "That's it. Fuck me back, you little whore. Fuck me back while I play with your tits. While I squeeze your nipples and caress your tits. Fuck me back with that slutty pussy of yours." I draw my hips back until only the head of my cock remains inside of her then gradually push back into her. Her pussy muscles clench at my cock, her lips wrap themselves around it and hold tightly. Her juices wet the shaft, help to ease my penetration of her. "You like it, Ivy," I tell her as I bottom out once more. "You like having your tits played with while your being fucked. You like having your nipples pulled while a stiff cock is being buried in your cunt." "Mmm-noooooo please," she whimpers. She is still fighting with herself, the sensations I am giving her causing her hips to push back at me as I stuff her pussy with my cock. "Yea, feel that," I hiss as I grind into her some more. "Feel my cock filling your wet cunt. Feel my hands all over your tits. You feel that bitch. You feel me fucking you." Ivy's neck strains and her head rolls back slightly as I pull on her nipples again, my hips grinding into her, my cock rolling inside of her wetness. I see her bite her bottom lip, see a flood of tears burst from beneath her tightly closed lids. Her hips jerk a few times beneath me as she struggles to fight back the orgasm that is teetering on the brink inside of her. "Yea, feel it bitch," I growl. I jerk my hips back then slam into her. I drive my hard cock into her pussy with powerful force, ramming its length along her lips, against her insides. "Feel it. Feel me fucking you," I growl again, my hips beginning a series of rapid thrust. "Bitch. Cunt. Whore." I pull back then slam forward again and again. I pound myself into her, ram my pelvis into her crotch. My fingers grip at her nipples, squeeze and pull on the sensitive nubs. Beneath me Ivy's hips are rocking into me as well, her body winning the argument with her mind. More and more tears leak from her eyes as her neck muscles strain and tighten, her face clenching into an expression of painful erotic pleasure. "Slut. Feel me fucking you. Feel my cock fucking your pussy. You whore. You tramp. I'm fucking you whore. I'm fucking you with my stiff cock and your loving it. You love having my hard cock fuck you while I play with your tits." "Mmm-nooo-mmmm," Ivy whimpers. Ivy's Rapist Ch. 03 She opens her mouth to suck in breath then bites down on her bottom lip again. Her hips are starting to jump and jerk beneath me. I thrust into her again and again, pound my cock at her, fuck her faster and faster. I grab her tits and squeeze them, my hands covering her nipples. I pound myself into her, drive my cock back and forth, ramming, pounding, thrusting. Suddenly Ivy's entire body grows stiff, her head rolls back and her mouth drops open. Her back arches slightly, her tits being crammed into my grasp as her hips push higher and harder into me. I feel her pussy muscles clench tightly around my shaft, feel them squeeze and jerk at my length. "Nooooooooooooooo!" She cries out. I bury myself completely inside of her as my own climax is unleashed, my balls boiling hot liquid semen up and along my cock until it spews out to wash against her exploding orgasm. "Yea, bitch," I gasp. We remain frozen like that for several minutes, our bodies clenched together as wave after wave of pleasure washes through us both. When it is over we relax. Ivy's body loosens and collapses into the bed. Quietly she cries, tears streaming along her cheeks now, her lip quivering with her sobs. She is ashamed of herself, ashamed of the way her body has reacted. I pull myself from between her legs, a mixture of my semen and her juices slips from her pussy as I do. Climbing off the bed I reach for my cloths and begin to dress. My time is done here, my goal obtained, and I am now ready to leave, to move on. While I dress I stare smiling down at Ivy. She remains locked in one position, her head turned away as her body quivers with the sobbing she is doing. I admire the way her clothing is so disheveled, the torn nylons and balled up skirt. The now wrinkled blouse and torn bra. Amazingly the one high heel is still in place, still holding strong on her foot. Before I leave I untie her, pulling the ropes free and putting them in my bag. "You take care, Ivy," I whisper. I leave her on the bed, crying her shame. She is rolled into a fetal position as I go out of the room, her arms holding herself tightly, tears soaking her cheeks and the bedspread she's laying atop. I throw a glance over my shoulder as I walk out and absorb one last look at her. In her present position her ass is rolled toward me, its curves rolling as her body shakes, the skirt balled up at her waist baring it completely. It's a nice ass, a lovely ass and I start to think about coming back some day, coming back to stuff that lovely ass with my stiff cock. The End.