The Lesser Evil

Dear Readers,

This story is fiction and contains seemingly non-consensual sexual situations. If this subject matter bothers you, please look elsewhere for erotic stimulation. All others, please enjoy and comment if you like.

Kyra awoke with a start, then blinked a few times to orient herself. She had an itch, an annoying one, that seemed to be moving from one spot to another. She reached down to scratch, only to find that her arms wouldn't move. And try as she might, she couldn't see past the blackness before her eyes. The itch moved again, this time to her inner thighs. What if it was some bug or creepy-crawly? Why couldn't she move her hands to kill it? She could feel the first twinges of panic, but with a focus of will forced them down. She'd find a way out of this predicament, if she only kept her wits about her.

She started a mental checklist. First, was she sure that she was truly awake? She felt awake, and the fact that she could make a mental checklist was a promising sign. Second, was she really locked into place? She tried wiggling her toes, and found she could. Same with her fingers. She could turn her head from side to side. But she couldn't lift her legs, arms or torso. This attempt did reveal something interesting. She could feel soft cloth against her back. All of her skin, with no discernible folds or creases pressing against her. She was naked! It wasn't just the cloth against her skin that told her that. It was a feeling in her gut, too. And it felt plainly clear that she was uncovered on top, as well. Bare to the world. She could almost see herself in her imagination. Her body stretched and bound spread-eagle on the bed. Her breasts forming firm mounds against the plane of her chest, the nipples hard and erect in the cold air. Tom, her husband, was always complimenting her on her breasts. Thirty-four C, without a bit of sag to them. She could even imagine her dark hair strewn out behind her head, sexily messy. She shivered slightly at the implications, then set that image aside.

Third, the blackness. Why couldn't she perceive the slightest bit of light? Even in their bedroom on a moonless night there was still light from the clock and outdoors. It'd be hard to make someplace as dark as this. A windowless closet? Except it felt like she was laying on a bed. Which left her to conclude that she was wearing some sort of a mask. Something to cover her eyes. Though she couldn't feel it. And couldn't understand why not.

She tried to remember what had come before. She and Tom had been drinking margaritas and watching a movie. The sexual innuendoes had been flying. She remembered a doorbell. Was it real or part of the movie? Tom had gotten up to answer it. She had loosened her top. Then, nothing.

With that, it all fell together. She'd passed out. Tom had taken advantage of the situation to try out some bondage, which he'd been pressing her to try. He'd stripped her. Laid her on the bed. Roped her down. Blindfolded her. Then what? He wasn't the type to take advantage when she was passed out. So he'd waited until she was awake? She was awake now. She opened her mouth to let him know, but nothing came out. She couldn't speak! She felt around with her tongue. No obstructions, no gags, none of the paraphernalia that she'd seen in Tom's photos from the internet. Her mouth wasn't taped shut. She could feel it moving as she tried to speak. It was just that nothing was coming out. Or, maybe, her ears were covered? Weird that she hadn't heard any noises since waking up. She moved her head from side to side. Yes. She could hear her hair wisping across the fabric. And it didn't feel like her ears were covered. So if it wasn't her ears, it had to be her voice.

Kyra shook her head back and forth violently, hoping it would alert Tom that she was conscious again. Where was he? In her mind's eye, she now saw herself strapped naked on the bed with Tom passed out beside her. She might be left here for hours! Just as that despairing thought entered her mind, she felt the itch again. A tickling. In the area between her legs! Was it a spider walking all over her body? The idea made her shudder. She concentrated harder. No, it felt more like something slipping through her pubic hairs. As though something were brushing the tops, idly circling back and forth. Tom's fingers? Or his manhood? She'd know soon enough, if she felt the familiar touch of his hard cock outside her pussy. Pressing through the lips, seeking and finding her hole. She could feel the air moving over her skin now, confirming her theory that she was nude. And she could tell that her legs were spread open, leaving her as vulnerable as a woman could be. He was awake. And he had to know that she was awake. So when was he going to get to it? Or was he just going to torture her like this?

Suddenly, a tremendous buzzing filled Kyra's head. Not sounding in her ears, but reverberating in her brain. It was so distracting she could think of nothing else, just the ratcheting that had no pattern or purpose. The sensation between her legs dropped away, and it was as if she was transported to another place. The buzzing abruptly shut off, and it now felt as though she was floating in space. She could see again, too, though she'd never seen anything like this. Floating around her were small motes of light against a black backdrop. It looked almost as if the stars in the sky had been set adrift, and she was laying smack in the middle of it. At first, the number of motes appeared endless. But after examining them more closely, she could see they were floating within a sphere.

There was something both seductive and ominous about the motes, too. They felt familiar to her, somehow. As if she'd seen them before but had forgotten when. One was drifting towards her at that very moment. She lifted her arm... Huh? She could lift her arms and legs vertically, but she couldn't close her legs, nor move her hand to feel if she was indeed naked. Curious. The mote drifted closer. On impulse, she reached out to touch it.

With a jolt, she found herself looking up into the faces of three men. Strangers to her. At the same moment, the buzzing returned to her head, blocking out all wonder at how she'd gotten there and what she was doing. She felt both of herself and outside herself at the same time. She could see what she was seeing, but couldn't control what she looked at or how she reacted. She was an observer in her own body. The men's faces were contorted with laughter, but not a single sound penetrated the black noise in her brain. She looked down, and the observer part of her was surprised to see that the men's pants and shorts were bunched around their ankles, and their semi-erect cocks were only inches from her face. She was on her knees! She looked down at herself. She was topless, her black dress and black bra pushed down to her waist! Below that, the skirt portion was scrunched up to reveal her black panties. Her breasts glinted oddly in the light, as though covered with oil. Each was covered in red marks. How had that happened? It looked like teeth marks. From these men?

One of the men bent and spoke briefly in her ear. She couldn't hear or understand the words, but she was suddenly seized by an incredible urge to pull their cocks into her mouth and suck them off. No, not an urge. A need so profound that it literally made her shake with desire. She needed the cum from those cocks to slake the incredible fire that had just flared up between her legs. She needed to get them hard. Needed to suck them off. And needed to drown her flames with their pearly white hot cum. She needed it to coat her tongue, to cover her face, to trickle down her throat. And she needed it at that very moment, without a second to spare.

She bent forward and urgently captured the nearest cock inside her mouth. It was already semi-hard and tasted of sweat, but she didn't care. Soon it would be hard enough, and then hot enough, and then bursting with the nectar that she craved. She pressed her attack, sucking hard at the flesh inside her mouth. She could feel herself moaning with desire but couldn't hear it. She could see the men's lips moving as they writhed in pleasure but couldn't understand them. She heard only the buzzing and felt only the urge. Just as she'd gotten the first cock slick with spit and had achieved a head-bobbing rhythm, another of the men pulled her away and positioned his cock for sucking. After repeating her efforts on this shorter but thicker member, a yank of her hair pulled her to the next cock. On and on it continued, as she licked, sucked and kissed the cocks and balls of three strangers, desperate that they might bless her with their boiling hot cum.

Kyra had just sensed that they were nearing their peak when one of the men bent and whispered in her ear. Again she couldn't quite grasp the sound or make sense of the words. But the effect was as devastating as a grenade in a small room. Now she not only needed to get the cum from their cocks. She also needed to get herself off. To rub her pussy until she exploded. Desperately, she pulled her panties to the side so she could get at her cunt and clit. The urge to suck hadn't abated though, and she tried to keep sucking the cock imprisoned in her mouth. But her panties kept slipping back, and she couldn't maintain a rhythm on either end. She almost wept with appreciation when one of the men bent and helped remove her panties. And she almost passed out with pleasure as he let his fingers linger within the folds of her pussy, sending an electric shock to the core of her sexuality.

She spent the next few minutes alternating between sucking and stroking their cocks, and frantically fingering herself, jumping from one to the other depending on which urge was the strongest. It was maddeningly frustrating, as both urges were evenly matched, and to try and ignore one simply created a desperation in her that was nearly unbearable. She had to suck and masturbate simultaneously, no matter how that might look to the men in front of her. In fact, she had no concern at all as to how it might look. She was so desperate to please them and herself that she would've done it in front of a stadium full of people.

Suddenly, a splash of liquid hit her right cheek! She cried out in alarm. The man on the end was blowing his load and she wasn't ready to catch it. Her job, she knew, wasn't just to get him off. It was to take his whole load in her mouth and swallow it down. Abandoning the other two men for the moment, she quickly opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, hopefully giving the man a target to shoot for. The next spurt landed square on her tongue and a sharp dagger of pleasure stabbed through her pussy, sending her much closer to the edge of her own orgasm. His cum tasted very salty and musky, but for as much euphoria as it brought her, she'd be willing to eat it for every meal of the day.

She pushed her hands between her legs, frantically pawing at her clit and pussy as she just as frantically licked the remaining jizz from his bobbing cock. The taste and pleasure of it was indescribable; for a moment the two desires were finally evenly balanced. That ended quickly when the man on the other end pulled on her head, twisting her head around until she faced him. Within three strong strokes, a geyser of cum was gushing onto her face, coating her skin from her forehead down to her chin. The weight of it startled her; almost immediately she could feel it beginning to slide and drip down her face. The compulsion to eat it overtook her again, once again overwhelming her craving to get off. With fingers sopping wet with her juices, she shoveled his nectar into her mouth, rolling it over with her tongue as wave after wave of bliss rolled through her body.

Finally she turned her attention to the man in the middle. His dick was short and average, except for a pronounced curve to the left. Unlike his two friends, he evidently had no intention of jacking himself off at the end. Instead, he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her close, jamming his cock between her lips. In seconds he was roughly fucking her mouth, his strokes so hard and quick that it felt like he might be bruising the back of her throat. She had to consciously push her tongue out of the way to avoid getting it pinched between her teeth.

When he suddenly stopped banging her mouth, she instinctively started sucking on him. His cum shot straight against the back of her throat, causing her to gag momentarily. Still she kept at it, her cheeks puckering against his swollen, pulsating member. When he finally pulled his slick rod from her mouth, he'd transferred all of his sperm-laden fluids directly into her throat, as cleanly as a syringe shooting drugs into an addict's vein. It had almost the same effect, bringing her to a state of near ecstasy. At that very moment, the other compulsion grabbed hold again. Spreading her legs wide, she stuffed both hands down between her red and engorged pussy lips, pawing, rubbing and twisting at her folds and clit. Desperate for release, she shoved two fingers on her left hand deep into her pulsing hole, while frantically rubbing her clit with the other hand. She knew she was gasping and grunting as her efforts brought her closer and closer to the edge, but she could hear nothing but the buzzing in her brain. Her breasts danced and shook crazily, and she arched her back up against her fingers, as if demanding a meaty cock.

When the dam burst, it was the most exhilarating and draining experience she'd ever had. Wave after wave of searing pleasure ripped outward from her cunt, making her muscles twitch and her joints ache. Her toes literally curled, and her hands clenched into fists, still automatically rubbing her pussy, the compulsion still there but subdued under the depth of her orgasm. She could feel tears running down her cheeks, and her chest and breasts heaved from the effort, her overtaxed lungs struggling to keep up with the sudden spike of adrenaline. She looked up from the floor to see the three men laughing and pointing at her, but felt neither shame nor remorse. Instead, as the pleasure of her orgasm ebbed, the compulsion to suck their cocks began to take over again. Crawling to her knees, she bent forward and pulled the middle man's limp member into her mouth. The taste of cum still clung to it and she savored it, fueling the fire in her loins. She'd just begun to suck in earnest when he bent down and whispered in her ear.

It was as if someone had turned a switch. The noise in her brain immediately clicked off and she could hear again. Kyra looked around in confusion and growing terror. She was on her knees before three half-naked men! And, looking down on herself, she too was nearly naked, her panties pushed aside and her tits in the open for everyone to see! She could taste something familiar in her mouth. Cum! Taking a finger and wiping something from her tit, she brought it to her nose. It was cum! The men were laughing uproariously now, pulling their clothes back on. She backed up and stood, only to find herself pressed into a corner. As she did, she saw one of the men push a red button on the wall. As the floor shook beneath her, she realized that they were in an elevator. But that shock was quickly replaced by another when she caught sight of herself in the elevator mirror. Strands of pearly white cum speckled her hair, and her forehead and face was awash in it. Her tits, too, had drops of cum all over them, in stark contrast to the red marks where the men had evidently sucked and bitten them. The men all guffawed loudly in response to something, and despite her revulsion she turned to look. A large dark wet circle stained the carpeting of the elevator. What was that from? The smell hit her at the same time as the realization did. It was where her juices had gushed out when she'd orgasmed. Tears of shame streamed down her face, and she turned into the corner rather than face those strangers as they left the elevator. Their mocking laughter echoed in her ears as she wondered how she could explain this to her husband. Then all went black.

Just like that, she found herself floating again in the sphere. Her body ached, her pussy felt hot, and she could almost taste the cum at the back of her throat. What the hell had that been? A dream? A nightmare? A vision? One thing was for sure, she could never tell Tom about it. He was very protective of her, and they'd had many an argument about men who had paid too much attention to her. As if she could control the hormones of any man. She couldn't even control her own husband, not if he really wanted it. He was just too persistent. Annoyingly so. He'd wheedle and plead and just make her miserable until she gave in. No matter how unromantic she felt, it was usually just easier to give in.

So there was no way she could share this dream with him. He'd take it as some sign from her subconscious that she really wanted to have an affair. Or that she was reliving one. Or some other sort of psychological hooey. They'd only end up fighting about it. Such was life with a man who'd only taken Psych 101 in college. Just enough to be dangerous.

Kyra looked again at the motes of light. Something was definitely different. Suddenly she realized. She was no longer at the center of the sphere. Now, she was floating near the outer edge. She studied the light particles more closely. Either she was drifting among them, they were drifting around her, or both. She'd always been good at spatial relations. It didn't take long for her to discern a pattern. She was indeed drifting in one direction, and the motes were drifting in another. At this point, it was nothing more than a mental puzzle to help take her mind off her predicament. Still, she had to wonder whether touching that one mote had sent her from the middle to the outer edge. Or had it been something else?

The center of the sphere held a particular fascination for her. The motes toward the center were brighter than the others, for one thing. For another, they seemed to shimmer, where the others were static. She could make out three individual lights in the center, though more might be hiding behind the others. And finally, the fact that she'd moved away from the center just served to pique her curiosity.

Another mote drifted close. Her head hurt from peering into the darkness. And, quite frankly, she was getting bored. What would it hurt to try a little experiment? She reached out and touched it...

The intense buzzing in her head caught her by surprise, although she thought she should've expected it. The outside observer part of her could take note of her surroundings, while the other part of her had only one thing in mind: strict obedience. In fact, she was staggered by the strength of the compulsion – the urge to obey was overwhelming. She could see herself in a floor to ceiling mirror, and immediately recognized the location. She was at the fitness center, the one where Tom had bought her a membership a couple years ago. She'd attended diligently for two or three months, but then slowly started missing appointments with the trainer. Her way of getting even with Tom for placing so much emphasis on her body and his wish that she would lose 20 pounds or so. She recognized the machine, too. It was one that she'd particularly hated. Sitting upright, it was a fly machine that worked her chest. But when laying down on the bench and hooking her ankles into two loops, it became a vertical rower, in which she used her legs to pull a counter-weighted bar up and down, working her abs, butt and thighs. In either position, it created excruciating pain and quick results.

What she didn't recognize from the past was herself in the reflection. First of all, she was completely naked, covered only with a glistening sheen of sweat. Second of all, she looked as fit and trim as she'd been in college. Her stomach was toned, her thighs tight, her breasts even more upright than usual. Her eyes glowed with a determination that she felt quite certain she'd never experienced before. Another figure walked into view. This one she did recognize, with not a little loathing. Her personal trainer. As always, he was dressed in tight shorts and an even tighter tank top. During their brief time together, she'd become convinced that he selected exercises that allowed him an unhindered view down her sports bra, or gave him the opportunity to brush his hand across her tits in order to adjust each exercise machine. Two times he'd actually tried to cup them, then gave her an apology that was marked only by its insincerity.