Page 29 of Blue Velvet

“I have as many days with you as I please, toy,” he breathes, as he begins rubbing my sore nub. My legs part on instinct, and I’m appalled at myself when I realize that I’m dripping wet again.

“No face hitting, no blood, no lasting damage to my body,” I continue. “No names, full discretion, no safe word.”

He growls into my ear.

“Keep going, my little toy,” he growls. “I want to hear all about your little contract.”

I moan when he parts my lips with his fingertips, still massaging my swollen clit with his thumb.

“There was a window, a time frame of five days,” I continue, gasping for air when he stretches me with two fingers, then three. “I had to look pretty, I was told to wear stockings, heels, and a dress that barely covers my ass. You like dolls, you like fake. I had my nails done, my lashes enhanced, and my fake tits on display every time I stepped outside, parading down the street, just for you, waiting for you, not knowing when you’d grab me, but knowing that you would eventually.”

His pressure on my most sensitive spot intensifies, and I squirm in his embrace when a rush of bliss spreads throughout my core. How can I still be this responsive to his touch? When he unfastened my restraints on the stretching bench, I felt like I’d never be able to come again, like I’d never let anyone touch me there again. And now, he’s doing just that, only minutes after I recovered from his previous treatment.

And I’m enjoying it. My pleasure is fueled by his threats, by the possibility of him speaking the truth, by the sheer prospect of being in actual danger. I loathe myself for being this fucked-up, but I can’t help it.

“Wrong,” he hisses, his lips close to my ear. “You’re wrong, my toy. I don’t like fake. I like you just like this, bare and natural. If your face was painted like it was yesterday, I’d never be able to see the blush on your cheeks when you’re aroused like this. And the fake lashes only cast a shadow on the vibrant sparks in your eyes when you climax. I don’t care for any of that.”

Despite my lustful agitation, I can’t help but chuckle at his words.

“You’re such a charmer,” I breathe, parting my legs farther to give his skillful hand more leeway to toy with me as he pleases.

“Not at all,” he objects. “I’m just honest, in everything I do and say to you.”

I tilt my head back and our eyes lock onto each other, mine searching his for the truth behind his words, but the deep black of his remains full of secrets. My heart is hammering against my ribcage, my mind ready to spawn into another rapture while my body tries to catch up.

“Want to hear something else that is nothing but the truth, but not at all charming?” he asks. The smile that graces his handsome face is dark and ominous, almost devilish.

“Always,” I utter, my reply almost choked by another hiking upsurge of bliss as his finger finds just the right spot.

He shifts on the mattress, almost burying my body under his without ever retreating from my core. I’m sprawled out below him, parting my legs as far as I can. I can feel his hardness through the fabric of his jeans, caressing the soft skin on my belly.

“You’re scared, aren’t you?” he says under heavy breaths.

“Yes,” I breathe.

My heart jumps when he retreats from my center, quickly unbuckling his belt and unzipping those damn jeans. Finally.

He frees his hard cock within seconds, and I pant for breath when he rams his thick, full length inside me in one brute motion. I figured that he was ample size, but the way he’s stretching my channel now feels like so much more than I ever imagined.

“My fucking little toy,” he pants, as he begins fucking me with violent thrusts. “Such a tight little cunt, and so wet for me.”

I cast him a smug smile. “I thought you were going to share an uncharming truth with me?”

He reciprocates my smile, still plunging his massive cock inside of me when he reveals the words that will unleash true terror on the naive little girl he’s fucking.

“Your hair,” he utters between thrusts. “I hate that fucking bleach, I hate blonde, and I especially hate it on you, because it’s not who you are, my toy.”

I tense up in horror, my widening eyes clearly telltale that his words finally got through to my very core. I didn’t think there was anything he could say that would convince me of the truth behind his earlier words, but these are it.

“I. Fucking. Hate. It!”

He underlines every word with an extra deep shove, stretching my insides and blowing my mind apart.

My climax comes with the realization that I truly am his captive.

This is no game.

I’m coming, clenching around the cock of a real kidnapper.

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