Ravaged

RAVAGED

Chapter Three

       Shifting thru the satchel, sitting quietly, he listens to her cries slowly turning to whimpers, watches her shimmering, spasmodic, naked body contorting just a little less in its bindings.  She’s even more incredible, under a light, bound up close, even more then he fantasized after seeing her that day, back at the stream, back in the rear of the woods, naked, but at a distance.

       The sound of the rain has become a steady pattering across the window pane, the ledge, and its rhythm soothing, relaxing, and appearing to him to be an overnighter, as forecasted.

       The room’s still stuffy, but not quite as uncomfortable to him.  Giving her time to somewhat calm down, get adjusted with her painful predicament, he’s also settled down, just about ready to continue with his fantasy.

       Literally helpless, as harsh as the physical pain’s been, it’s not the gravest of issues in her terrified mind.  Her immediate thoughts are centered on surviving whatever’s happening to her.  Realizing that whatever’s been rammed inside her bowels, though painful, it seems the discomfort’s not meant to be as much an excruciating type pain as a humiliating one.        

       With her struggles to free herself useless, impossible, she’s trying to concentrate on breathing, to somehow block out her anxiety, to find a semblance of calmness, basically to survive.

       Reaching toward her arched torso, letting the palm of his left hand rest lightly across the bottom curve of the firm, symmetrical mound of her closest breast, he leans above her.  Slowly compressing his fist, the areola bulges above his circling forefinger, thumb, a bead of perspiration tracing off the nipple as he gently twists.  Sliding his hand across, over the slippery flesh, its fullness fills his roving hand, the hardening, thickening nipple tickling his palm.

       Feeling her breast gripped, manipulated, she reflexively jerks, sensing it’s a hand groping her naked flesh.  Struggling with her tormented thoughts, she tries to force herself to remain still, even with her nipple tingling, the sensation rippling throughout her breast.

       Reaching into the satchel with his free hand, glancing in, picking out a chrome clover clamp, he squeezes it between his thumb, forefinger.  Watching it open, close, turning it, feeling the firm, if not stiff tension of its spring, he rests it across the top of her other bare nipple, watches that breast quiver as the areola, instantly puckering from the coolness of the metal, inverts beneath the weight.

       Sliding his hand away from her left breast, he lets his fingers drift gently across her damp, slippery coated sternum, down into the concave slope of her flexing stomach as it hollows with each rasping breath.  Reaching her inverted navel, he flicks his index finger across, around its moist flesh, watching it palpitate, her abs rippling in waves with each completed circle.

       Slipping his free hand down between her thighs, he lets the tip of her forefinger brush, flick, and slide across the nub of her moist clit; watching it twitch, spring back with each probative touch.

       Unable to control her reflexes, she struggles, failing to remain still, feeling her stomach twitching, her hips bucking as her most sensitive flesh is being explored, probed.

       Tracing down across her hairless pubic mound, his index finger comes to rest against her glistening vulva.  Compressing his thumb, index finger against the twin folds of her labia, gently twisting, tugging, he’s aroused by the feel of the soft, moist mound of flesh as he manipulates it, watches her hips noticeably spasm, the crystal tip of the butt plug sparkling, barely poking out from the rim of her stretched anus underneath.

       Being denied of most of her senses, she can’t help feeling the tickling, tingling, stirring of her sensitive flesh, the weight of the cool metal laying across, pressing into her right nipple, the light touch of his finger probing,  tracing down across her thrust out torso, her vagina flicked, tugged, practically masturbated, not to forget the object stuffing her rectum.

       Knowing her bound, naked body’s physically defenseless, mentally she still tries to hide, to isolate herself in her darkness, her immobile state, frightened, confused, yet feeling betrayed by her own body’s sensations, reacting to the roaming hands.

       Feeling his excitement mount, reaching back into the satchel, he picks up a couple more matching clamps.  Laying one across her left nipple, watching with interest as it too partially compresses into that tan areola, he slides the third one down between her spread hips.  Pinching, tugging the nub of her engorging clit outward from her twitching thighs, the clamp spreads wider between his tensing fingers until the metal prongs are forced completely open.

       Slipping the tips of the clamp into her gapping slit, feeling it brush across the edges of his finger, thumb, he takes a breath.  Satisfied that the springs are adjusted to “firm” he lets its spread ends rest across the swelling flesh of her stretched clit.  Taking another breath….. He releases it.

       “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!!!”  The incredible pain surges thru her bucking body, immeasurable to what she’s been feeling.  From her spread thighs, up thru her womb, she feels an unbearable lightening bolt.  She’s positive her clit’s been crushed in some sort of vice.  “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!!!”  Her gasp of breath’s followed by another guttural, rasping scream.

       Jerking, twisting, pounding the back of her covered head against the mattress, nearly hysterical, her breasts flail, toes curl, her thighs shake, her fingers stiffen, flex, curl, dig into the palms of her out turned hands flattened between the mattress and her lurching back.

       Unprepared by her instant reaction, practically jumping off the chair, he presses one hand down across her pubic mound, the other up against her sternum.  Leaning down against her, he forces her flailing body into the surface of the flattening mattress as the other pair of clamps bounce off her breasts, across the bed.

       “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!!!”  Another rasping breath, another guttural scream emits from her throat.  Spittle flicks out from the “O” ring, the saliva collecting across her mask, breasts, and his arm.

       Excited, reaching across, grabbing the clamp off the mattress closest to him, he pinches her left nipple, twists, rams the open prongs over that tender flesh, and releases it.

       “Uuuummmppphhhh!!!”  Practically hoarse, animalistic grunts spew from the “O” ring, her body again lurching, bucking up from the creaking bed.

       The spreading pain’s unimaginable to her.  Her clit, nipple both burn, seared as if branded, her mind’s unable to comprehend what’s being used to cause such punishment.  Everything’s becoming a blur in her solitude of hellish darkness.

       Heart pounding in his chest, he struggles to hold her down, watching her body contorting unimaginably, even in her bindings, the clamp between her thighs jerking, flashing, twisting off the nub of her tortured flesh, only matched by the nipple clamp’s thrashings.

       Feeling her slippery, naked body beneath his, he grabs, grips her other thrust out breast by its base, twisting, jerking with one hand while grabbing the other clamp, on the mattress beside her. Squeezing the metal open, he slips it across her right nipple.   Even as she’s jerking, twisting, he lets the slippery clamp slip from his fingertips, snap shut across the extreme tip of that nipple, barely gripping but excruciatingly pinching the tortured nub.

       “Aaauuuggghhhhhh!!!… Aaaaauuuggghhh!!!”  Feeling as if that nipple’s bursting, exploding, her screams are unintelligible, more like screeches.  Her heart thumps, pounds thru her chest, her jaws ache, burn, her throat raw from screaming.

       Swinging across her, onto the jerking bed, his legs sliding between her obscenely spread hips, his swollen shaft slaps across the clamp grinding into her ravaged vagina.  His face sliding across the side of the black leather hood covering hers, his chest smashes down across her solar plexus, flattening the clover clamps into her tortured breasts.

       Terrified, barely conscious from the pain, she instantly feels the full weight fall across her chest, doesn’t need to be able to see, hear, to realize it’s a man, a big man, mounting her hideously bound, naked body, crushing the air from her lungs, tearing the clamps off her nipples.

Grunting, chocking, and gagging on her saliva, her mind fogs.  Lungs bursting, unable to breath, bordering over the edge of hysteria, she fades in and out toward what would be a welcome state of unconsciousness.

       He continues his assault, inattentive to her pain, the clit clamp scraping across his thick shaft, slapping back and forth, between her stretched thighs as he forces her body back down against the mattress, her arms bent behind her, twisted in their restraints.

       Forcing his throbbing shaft past the clamp, into her spreading vagina, the stretching walls grip his manhood like a tight glove with each, deeper thrust, his shaft grinding along side the thick butt plug, separated only by the thin membrane between the stuffed two orifices.

       Pounding, pumping, he grunts, grinds his hips between hers.  Feeling the rush, the twitch, the explosion rising from deep within, he squeezes tighter, both breasts bulging, discoloring as they stretch toward her sides, the jerking clamp finally tearing away from the bud of her pinched nipple, bouncing across the springing mattress, onto the floor.

       Cock pulsing, his juices oozing, he jerks out, forces himself up past her hips, jerking, twisting her twin mounds for leverage.  Slapping his shaft across the mask, forcing its swollen head against the “O” ring, into that yawning hole, he feels the cum spurting, squirting, into her throat, around the “O” ring, across the mask.

       Pumping, grunting, rocking, he pounds into her yawning mouth, until he too, goes limp, falling across her face, the mattress, the head of his cock still pressed between the hard, bright red rubber encasing her mouth.  He lies across her limp body, smells the dampness of the sheets, her scent, against his cheek.

       Catching his breath, motionless for a few moments, he finally rolls off to the side of the bed, slips his feet onto the floor as cum drips from the quivering head of his freed shaft, across her throat, onto the sheets, gurgling from her gapping mouth, oozing off her stretched lips as she reflexively twitches, unconscious.

       Collecting himself, grabbing a pillow case, he wipes between his thighs, legs.  Settling in the chair, he leans over her quivering body, twisted, bound, soaked in sweat, smeared with his cum.  Wiping her breasts first, then her neck, dragging the cloth down between her thighs, across the tip of the butt plug, back up her thigh, her breasts again, across the bondage hood, finally the “O” ring, he wads the matted case, drops it to the floor, notices, picks up the loose clamp.  Casually leaning across her wet, glistening body, he slips the gleaming metal deep onto the bare nipple, lets it snap shut, her body barely twitching.

       Glancing down at his own sweat drenched body, standing up, he walks toward the window.  Needing some fresh air, sliding the window open, he feels the steady pelting of warm rain across the back of his head, shoulders as he leans out into the wet, dark night.

       Glancing back toward her bound, but lax, naked body spread across the mattress, he thinks to himself how well his plan’s going, knowing there’s absolutely no chance of any interference.  Yes, this will be an entire weekend of isolation, with just her, to continue using the endless contents of his satchel on.  But first, he may unbind just her legs, take her a nice walk out into the rain, to the horse stall across the driveway, and wake her up.

End Part Three