Page 6 of Total Obsession

"Please, no," she begged.

She didn't know this, but saying something like that, only made it that much sweeter for me. See, terror came from the feeling that you're about to die. Because it was an emotion, it was subject to change. It could increase or decrease in its intensity.

"You want me to stop?" I asked her, loosening my grip on her tied wrists just slightly and lifting my hips where I had her pinned down.

"Yes, please!" she whimpered. She seemed to know what was about to happen. She'd be an idiot not to. My cock was pressing hard against her thigh and I had a knife to her throat.

What she also didn't know is that I loved to play with my victims. I did what I did because I enjoyed it. I loved to watch the ebb and flow of emotions as they moved through a person's body.

First, the fright when they were caught.

Then, the realization as their mind made sense of the situation.

Next, the flight as they tried to escape.

Finally, the despair as they realized that they were going to die.

But, because I was a sadistic bastard, I liked to add a little break between steps three and four. See, I read this study once. It was a group of scientists and a mouse. They took this mouse and put it in a bowl of water with no way to escape. At first, the mouse tread water, but eventually it was exhausted. They timed how long it took for the mouse to give up and let itself drown.

Fifteen minutes. That's how long that mouse lasted without any hope of being rescued.

Then, they tried the experiment again. Same mouse. Same bowl of water. But this time, at minute fourteen, just as the mouse was about to give up hope, they took it out of the bowl and let it rest for one minute. Then they put it back in that bowl.

And that fucking mouse tread water for a full sixty minutes.

You see, when someone had hope of better things to come, of being rescued, ofchange, they'd find strength they never knew they had. And it was right at that moment when they were thinking that they might actually survive, that moving them to despair was so much sweeter.

Like with this woman. Cutest little thing, too. Bleached blond hair, cheap fake tits. "What would you do if I agreed to let you go?" I asked her.

"Anything," she pleaded.

I raised my eyebrow. "Anything?"

She nodded her head. "Tell me, would you suck my cock?"

Little slut didn't even hesitate. "Yes, yes, of course!"

I pushed my hard cock against her thigh at her words. "Tell me, sweetheart. Do you spit or swallow?"

"Swallow, always swallow," she said.

I grinned and pressed into her harder. The edge of the blade pressed a little bit further into her throat and she whimpered. It was such a sweet sound.

I trailed my fingers down from her wrists. They were secured to the wall anyways, so I knew she wasn't going anywhere, then over her breasts squeezing what I could to the point where she cried out in pain, before making my way down her trim waist and over the swell of her hips. I lifted the little tennis skirt she was wearing and traced my fingers up the inside of her thigh.

She shivered. She was scared, but fear only heightened arousal.

"Would you let me eat this tight little cunt of yours?" I asked.

She nodded.

"Slip my cock into it?"

She nodded.

I moved my hand further back, cupping her ass. "What about the back door, hm?"

She hesitated, and I recoiled my hand, slapping her ass hard. I let out a laugh as she let out a yelp. "And here I was thinking you might be worth saving after all. Turns out you're just another stuck-up little cunt who thinks she's too good to take it up the ass."

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