Page 22 of Illicit Rendezvous

The fucked up side of me hopes that I’ll get to see him naked soon. The non-fucked up side of me wishes the same thing. I’m doomed.

Placing his large hands on my knees, he spreads my legs open. I can tell by the way his head is tilted he’s looking at my sex as he kneels before me. If I wasn’t already flushed by the sauna then I will be before long. The teal lighting around his eyes are now red, making me wonder how it changes colors. It’s blinding and causing me to blink uncontrollably as he inches it closer to my face. I turn my head in hopes of dulling the light but completely forget about it when I notice something. The masked man removed a hand from my leg and is now holding what appears to be a roll of blood-red duct tape. This takes me by surprise because I didn’t see him walk in with it.

What the fuck is he going to do with that?

I guess I'm about to find out because, in the next instant he’s unraveling the tape. It doesn't make the telltale sound normal duct tape makes while ripping, and when he places it on the delicate skin on my lips, it's not as sticky either. As he pulls the binding, I notice it’s not ripping out my hair, only sticking to itself. He wraps it all the way around the chair and my mouth twice. In this position, I can’t move or see anything other than the back of my eyelids or the sauna's wood ceiling.

My arms get the same treatment. Each one is strapped down by my sides. Luckily, it’s not pulling out my body hair in the process.

He takes a step back as if to admire his work. “Damn, girl. Naked looks great on you but this? Mmmm.” I feel like he’s licking his lips behind that mask. “Tied up in red makes my dick pulse. You look so vulnerable and helpless sitting there.”

I have no idea what I look like, but I think it’s safe to assume his astute assessment of me being vulnerable and helpless is spot on. I’ve never imagined turning anyone on while being tied down.

My head is restricted in this position and he has shifted to the side so I’m not aware of what he’s doing. All that’s in front of me is the cedar paneling that makes up the wall of this sweat factory. The room is dead silent then I hear him cutting another piece of tape.

Why couldn’t he just give me the goddamn towel? Slowly he appears in my peripheral before he’s looming over me. He’s standing so close, holding a stretch of tape.

Then all I see is red.

ten

Red turns to black as he places the tape over my eyes right after I slam them closed. I’m slightly jostled as he secures my head by wrapping tape around me and the chair a few times. I can’t see anything. With the degree I’m sweating, I’m surprised this bondage is staying in place.

When he’s done, there’s a ka-thunk as something drops to the floor, which I’m assuming is the tape. Then something else hits the ground, and a moment later, there’s pressure on my mouth, as if he’s….

Is he kissing me?

The incident is short lived before I hear the jingling of a belt, then it’s the unzipping of pants that grabs my attention. There’s a clunk noise of boots hitting the ground, as if he kicked them off. He’s obviously naked and sans mask. Damn this blindfold.

Then his monster-sized hands grip my legs, radiating heat that’s hotter than the effects of the sauna. The bristle of facial hair drags along my inner thigh, before his breath hits my sex. It sounds like he’s breathing in my scent with a deep inhale. I’m glad he waited for me to be showered for this. I flinch when his cool wet tongue licks at the tight skin around my puckered hole. No one has ever done that to me. This is definitely a night of firsts.

After a few more circles, he swipes up my slit, stopping before he gets to my clit. My first instinct is to close my legs, but the iron grip of his hands holds them in place. Ghost Face, the Purge Man, or whatever the fuck his name is, sucks my sensitive nub into his teeth and bites. The immediate shock leaves me screaming into the tape covering my mouth. At this point, I don’t know if it’s from the pain or the immense amount of pleasure, but what I do know is I don’t want him to stop.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Do I have Stockholm syndrome? It doesn’t happen this fast, does it?

The man releases my clit then slaps it with the tips of his fingers. “Do you want more, Bambi? Do you want me to fuck your tight pussy with my tongue?”

He knows I can’t respond, so I answer him the only way I can. I thrust my hips off the seat in hopes I can get his mouth back on my pussy. Instead, he slaps my clit again with a sadistic laugh.

"Such a needy little whore. You'll beg for anything I give you."

Fuck, he’s right. It’s only been one night, but he’s already trained me to want more from him, to want whatever he offers. If he’s a sick fuck, what does that make me?

At this point, the tape covering my mouth is slipping from the mixture of sweat and saliva accumulating on my face. With it uncovered, my moans get absorbed into the walls of the small wooden box we’re in. My teeth clench in preparation for another slap, but it never comes. Instead, something splats on me and runs down my crack.

Fuck, I think he spit on me.

The man uses a single digit to spread the extra lubricant past my entrance, then circles it around my rim and presses it into my tight back entrance. Like an idiot, I writhe against his hold, causing him to slip in deeper.

A muffled, “Yes,” breaks from my lips.

"I like how you think, Bambi. But perhaps I'm going far too easy on you," he growls. When he drives in and out of me at a much faster speed, his palm claps against my pussy.

"Fuck, mmm,” I moan as pleasure floods me, and my back arches off the chair.

The man's movements stop while he's knuckle deep. His single finger is a reprieve from the pounding he gave me earlier while the knife's hilt was in my pussy. I still feel stretched and so full, having something foreign inside of me.

Apparently, he’s just beginning. I flinch when something frozen circles around my clit, but it disappears just as quickly, and a stream of cold air replaces it. What the fuck? I'm so confused by the temperature change. The brief relief has me realizing it's fucking hot in here. Sweat is drenching my entire body. Is my abductor the male version of freaking Elsa? How else would he have a fucking ice cube?

---