The Surprise

"You should see if you can get Carlie into the sack – or wherever," Tanis suggested glibly, chuckling softly as she nodded her head at Carlie across the room. Then, leaning toward Darin, she added, sotto voce, "I heard she's into rough trade – you know, bondage and all that."

Darin nodded thoughtfully, looking over at the unsuspecting object of their conversation, as CArli chatted blithely with other guests. "Hmmm, you don't say." Darin had come to like Tanis, having met her when he started his new job just a few months ago. She was forthright and outspoken, and he liked that she didn't back away from sexual innuendo. They often spoke frankly, and already he had told her things about himself that he rarely told anyone. It was odd to him, but he felt little sexual attraction to her. She was more of a chum than anything else. So, for some reason, he had told her, a few weeks ago, now, how he often had trouble attaining sexual satisfaction unless he was in complete control. "I mean complete control," he'd said, lowering his voice, conspiratorially, "You know what I mean?" His look seemed to be assessing her, as he had continued, "Physically controlling the whole act, you know – aggressive direction, bondage – sadism, some might say – consensual rape."

Tanis had stifled her surprise and responded with merely a raised eyebrow and a shrug of her shoulders. "Oh," she said mildly, "each to his own – though it's not my cup of tea."

Tanis' cup of tea, although she would never have admitted it, was also control – but control through subversion and manipulation. She liked to make things happen. Hence some weeks later, at a rather loud, raucous party, she told Darin of Carlie's alleged interest in rough sex – a complete, as far as she was aware, fabrication – just to see what would happen.

While ostensibly a friend, Tanis had never really liked Carlie. Whether it was jealousy or something else, she couldn't put her finger on exactly why, but her dislike had been simmering and festering, it seemed, for years. Recently, Tanis had begun to make quietly subversive comments about Carlie, whenever the opportunity arose, subtly planting the seeds of vicious rumours, ensuring that they could never really be traced back to her.

Carlie was blissfully unaware of Tanis' machinations, so, when Darin, Tanis' gorgeous co-worker asked her out following the party, she gladly accepted.

The following Friday, after the movie and drinks at a tapas bar, Carlie was glowing. There was something raw about Darin; something she found most intriguing – most inviting; so, when he casually invited her back to his place, ". . . for a nightcap, or whatever," she evocatively growled her assent. Immediately on arrival, the possibility of a nightcap rapidly became "or whatever", disintegrating into a fury of torn and shredded clothing as Carlie, caught up in the intensity of Darin's surreptitious plans, joined willingly the violence of her own disrobing. Some objective part of her brain looked on amazed as she saw herself reveling in her own assault – amazed at her own complicity.

Forcing her to her knees, Darin quickly transformed the imminent oral sex from blowjob to face-fuck to oral rape in a matter of moments. Virtually naked, crouched before the slamming hips of her date, Carlie was transfixed by the not-so-subtle mix of passion and violence pounding past her lips and bruising her throat. There was, paradoxically, something endearing in Darin's fervent hunger – his fingers entwined in her hair, slamming her face against his pubis. Her lips would be bruised, for sure, but she could already feel her lower lips puffing in their arousal.

Abruptly, Darin pushed her off his Steely Dan, loosening his grip on her hair only long enough to spin her around by the shoulders. Throwing her over the side of the easy chair, his hand still in her hair, he pressed her gut against the upholstered arm, and snapped her head back, roughly kissing the corner of her mouth and biting her ear as he let up on his grip. Carlie could only groan in response. She was surprised, indeed, shocked by his rough, insensitive treatment of her, but more than that, she was flabbergasted by her own response. She could feel her throbbing genitals, gaping and dripping, impatient for attention, regardless of the brutality.

Darin ploughed into her – one crushing thrust – his balls slapping against her clit, his hips walloping her buttocks, then bouncing back. Again and again the drove himself into her, filling her cunt, banging her cervix, then drawing back to let her copious juices spray out between them before stabbing her again with his flaming rigidity. Holding her hair like reins, he panted and gasped over her, as, with every in-stroke, he winded her, driving her gut up against her lungs.

Mewing piteously, Carlie braced her hands against the far arm of the chair and tried to save herself from banging her chin, all the while, heaving herself back against the invader, inflaming her own passion beyond anything she had ever known.

Suddenly pushing her head forward with his right hand, without warning, Darin withdrew completely. In a smooth, seemingly practiced gesture, he drew his left hand up across her exquisitely excited clitoris, scooping her natural lubricants up over her anus, momentarily poking his royal finger firmly against her rosebud, until, confused and agitated, it gave slightly. Without missing a beat, Darin set his engorged glans against her pink sphincter and shoved. Before even she had time to protest that she had never taken it that way before, with a mighty thrust he sank half of his rod into her rectum.

"Oooh," she moaned surprised by the violence, yet pleased with the novel sensation. Tightening his grip on her hair, Darin paused only for a heartbeat before forcing himself again, inexorably, until he had plumbed the depths of her rectum. Her eyes wide and glazed, catching her breath, as his stomach pushed against the sponginess of her backside, a satisfied "Wow!" escaped from her lips. She had never felt so filled, nor so involved with anyone elses satisfaction. By the grunts and moans she could hear coming from Darin, and the shivers and spasms in the moments he paused, she knew that he was on the edge.

Savagely he pulled back then stabbed himself into her – again and again. She could feel his missile, swelling against her delicate rectal tissue. She could feel the growing heat, the living strength, the impatience and the insistence building in him. Although they hadn't exchanged an intelligible word since the initial clench, Carlie felt a growing oneness with Darin – becoming one on his terms, perhaps, but a burning oneness nonetheless. And she loved it; she could feel herself falling, surrendering, giving herself up, a puppet on a stick. — What a puppet! What a stick!

Spasms running up and down the spearing intruder triggered spasms in her rectum. The smooth muscle of her bowel grasped and held, quivering, palpitating – stroking her vanquisher, as she felt him seize and jerk. Howling through his teeth, he pulled her head back, slamming himself impossibly deep into her backside. At the first jets, scalding the depths of her fundament, Carlie's own world exploded into a multi-coloured miasma. Twisting and shuddering, she whined and whimpered, unable to catch a breath between the body-wracking convulsions of her orgasm. Darin thrust mercilessly, firing volleys of seed into the infertility of her derriere. Gradually slowing his assault, he allowed her clasping and wrenching rectum to milk him of every last drop of spunk.

Meanwhile, wave upon wave of hyper-sensation had left her limp, and witless, on the very edge of consciousness. Never had she cum so hard. Never had she felt so much.

Pulling his slimy tool – now softening, its battle won - from her stretched, yet still grasping hole, Darin, still very much in command, dragged his barely conscious conquest off the chair to collapse in a listless heap at his feet. Holding her up by her hair, he looked down at her with a wry smile. Carlie's eyes fluttered slightly as he quietly said, "Clean me off." Somewhere in her head, Carlie understood that, despite the softness of his voice, this was an order, not a request. There could be no discussion. Darin was in charge, and that was that.

Pulling herself up his legs, she fished, eyes closed, for his dangling schlong, slurping it in once she'd found it. Darin let go of her hair, and standing with his hands on his hips as Carlie, a girl he had only met once before today, worshipped his meat. Throwing his head back, he muttered, almost inaudibly, "Life is good!" Then looking down on the figure bobbing up and down on his soiled member, he said, not really to Carlie, but loud enough for her to hear, "Nothing – nothing turns me on like a woman in submission!" Amazingly enough, he could feel his prick rising to attention under her ministrations. "On her knees," he went on, as if pontificating to the masses, "maybe bound and gagged – all her cavities stuffed – waiting – just waiting, to be taken." His hips began to thrust as, once again, he threaded his fingers into Carlie's hair and began the eager, rhythmic gyrations, back and forth, accelerating – faster, ever faster. "By force," he breathed, pulling Carlie violently against his groin. "That'd be the ultimate," he rasped, as he stiffened and violently came again. Carlie was surprised, and more than a little pleased, at the volume of his ejaculate, considering it was his second orgasm in a very short time. Carlie's throat muscles throbbed and quivered, as she tried to swallow his gift, her face crushed against his gut, struggling for breath, as her nose lay firmly amidst his pubic forest.

Pulling away finally, Darin stepped back into his briefs and tucked himself in. Carlie stayed motionless, kneeling on the floor, gazing at him. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to think. Tossing her shredded clothes at her, he said casually, "Here. Get dressed. I'll drive you home."

Carlie was in a trance as she wrapped herself as best she could in the remains of her clothing. She tried to reply sensibly to his few remarks on the ride home, but could barely discern what he was saying. When he stopped in front of her house, she leaned over and kissed him. "That was delicious!" she purred. "Thanks!"

"Sure!" he mumbled, as she got out of the car, trying to hold her clothes around her body. He drove off before she could ask about seeing more of him. Carlie shrugged and smiled to herself, sure – positive – that they would connect again.

"You wouldn't believe it," Carlie confided to Tanis the following week at work, "I have never come so hard or so long!" She smiled a mischievous, impish grin. "Being forced – completely under Darin's control – it was such an incredible turn-on. You have no idea. The feelings of helplessness seemed to amplify all sensation." As she clasped Tanis' hand, Tanis had to subdue the urge to flinch. "Afterwards," Carlie went on, oblivious to Tanis' revulsion, deluding herself with a somewhat romanticized version of the tryst, "while he had me cleaning him and sucking him off, he was sort of apologetic, but when I told him not to apologize, he told me that he could think of nothing more erotic than the idea of a woman, as he put it, 'bound and gagged, with all her cavities stuffed, waiting – just waiting, to be taken.'" Carlie's dreamy look glazed a little more as she added, "And it must be true, 'cause just after that he came again – deep in my mouth."

"Wow!" Tanis observed, raising her eyebrows, "That's unbelievable, unbelievably X-rated!" But, disgusted, behind a mask of interest and awe, she added to herself, "You cheap little tart."

"You really should try it." Carlie gave Tanis' hand a meaningful squeeze.

Slipping her hand away, Tanis murmured, "Nah, I figure I'm too chicken for that," while her inside voice berated Carlie for letting down the female gender with her simpering submission.

For some reason Carlie's self-satisfied grin scalded Tanis' psyche, as she purred, "Really, it was wonderful!".

"Really?" she acknowledged, her false sincerity, barely able to contain the irrational rage that flared to a pathological hatred within her. Her nasty trick had backfired after all that. She was incensed.

"Maybe I can surprise him one day." Carlie whispered. She hugged herself, adding distractedly, "I could be that woman – bound and gagged, with all her cavities stuffed – just waiting to be taken." Carlie rocked herself slowly, pondering the idea. "Hmmm."

That was when Tanis silently came up with her own interesting variation of the plan. Over the next few days, Tanis nurtured Carlie's daydream of offering herself over to Darin, conspiratorially helping Carlie plan her own sacrifice. They laid out a lewd tableau, to greet Darin. Carlie was so excited she didn't notice the thinly veiled loathing that seeped out of Tanis as understated cynicism.

Working quickly, before she had time to consider all the ramifications, before she had time to change her mind, Tanis encouraged Carlie to do it. That Friday night – the Friday night of a long weekend – the chosen day – Tanis assured Carlie it was a go. She'd guarantee that Darin would head over, intrigued, to Carlie's right after work. The prospect left Carlie bubbling with excitement at the promise of the intense sex to come.

Carlie spent the day, preparing herself, arranging the props, and setting up the video camera to capture her surrender. By four-thirty she was nearly beside herself with anticipation as the appointed hour approached. Tanis had said she'd make sure Darin was there by five-thirty, so Carlie gave herself an hour for the final descent.

She started by turning on the video camera and addressing the lens. "Just a record of my surrender, so we can relive it again and again." Then she set to duct-taping the leg of a bar stool to the coat tree. She secured a long flexible dildo to the coat-tree by impaling it on a coat hook and taping it firmly. Removing all her clothing, she put one end of a pair of handcuffs on each wrist and hung their keys around her neck on a gold chain. Then she pulled a sort of open leather harness or helmet over her head fastening it under her chin and letting the strap ends dangle at her shoulders. She couldn't help smiling as she seriously set about arranging her amazing depravity. She slowly threaded a huge black dildo into her rectum then pushed a large swirling vibrator into her vagina. Pushing her ass firmly against the back of the stool, effectively locking the dildo into her ass, she belted herself securely to the stool. Butterflies of apprehension fluttered in her stomach, brushing wings up against her genitals. Biting her lip, she pushed on. Methodically she strapped her knees together around the upright of the coat tree, holding the vibrator prisoner within her sex.

"Just follow the steps – one at a time – one after another," she instructed herself. She and Tanis had worked out the routine, if such a thing could ever be considered a routine. Excitement rattled her psyche, a hint of concern prickling at the back of her brain, but its edges merged hazily with passion and lust. "Here goes," she whispered, taking a quick sideways glance toward the camera lens. The red light stared impassively, as, with a deep, breath, she leaned forward and carefully, inexorably deep-throated the jutting dildo. Grasping the rack tightly with both hands, she pulled herself forward, feeling the smooth wood push between her soft breasts. She squirmed her chest a bit until the post nestled firmly in her cleavage, separating her naked breasts.

Still holding the coat rack, she paused for a second, then, handcuffs hanging from her wrists, she pulled the dangling ends of her leather head-gear around the post of the coat-rack and, threading the buckle, mercilessly pulled her own head in tight against the post and deep onto the faux cock. "What a sight," she marveled, dropping her hands to her sides, and closing her eyes in an effort to study herself objectively.

Finally, she turned on the vibrator, then reached both hands behind her back, and, lifting her feet up toward her ass, she snapped the dangling handcuff of her left hand to her right ankle. Her heart pounding, Carlie hesitated, trying to control heaving chest. She sat motionless for a long moment. This was the moment of truth – the point of no return. Her breath puffed and hissed around the massive dildo that filled her mouth. "What am I doing?" A part of her mind was truly puzzled, but on the surface she was calm. "Just wait," she answered herself, "It'll all be worth it." And desire welled within her fundament, "Oh, so worth it!"

"Mmmm," she purred, thinking of the delicious arousal to come. Then with a determination that belied her physical position, she reached for her left ankle, grunting with the exertion as she lifted her foot and felt the empty cuff rattle against it. Grabbing with her already secured left hand, her concentrated breath puffing and snorting through her nose, she fumbled with the last restraint and finally snapped the cuff closed, fastening her right hand to her left ankle. At last she was truly helpless.

Then she waited – the eager anticipation began. The vibrator was arousing her, but her arousal was somewhat attenuated by the aching of her limbs and the stuffed discomfort of her throat. Slowly, nonetheless, her ardour was inflamed, until at last she experienced an orgasm that seemed to grow and grow, leaving her breathless, panting and sweating. The evaporating sweat sent shivers through her body, and she wondered how long it had been, and when Darin would arrive. She ran the scenario through her head over and over, and trembled with anticipation as much as chill.

Carlie got increasingly uncomfortable, and began to worry about how much time has passed. The phone rang and she heard Tanis leaving a message. "I suppose you're still a little tied up. We're all going down to Jack's. Meet us there when you're through, if you can." While she ostensibly sounded so casual and innocent, Carlie thought she could detect something else – an edge. Jealousy? Self-satisfaction?

Carlie's limbs eventually went numb, though they ached whenever she tried to flex them. Her helplessness was frightening, now, amplifying her fear and confusion more than her stimulation. "Fuck, time is creeping slowly!" she complained to herself, surprised by what she assumed was a distortion of actual time. It seemed like hours had gone passed. "Omigod! Where is he?"

Eventually, she began to dehydrate. Her throat became puffy, making breathing difficult – threatening to cut off her air supply. As the night progressed with no sign of Darin, she drifted in and out of consciousness. In the morning, evident by the light in the windows, Carlie was woken by the phone once again. "We missed you last night;" Tanis' voice sang in almost a taunt, "hope it was good." Carlie's screamed response was little more than a pathetic whine from her parched throat – well muffled by the huge phallus filling her mouth. "I'm going away for a few days." There was just the slightest hint of a chuckle in her voice, "I'll call you when I get back."

Something had gone awry, although she couldn't have known exactly what, and certainly didn't even suspect Tanis' involvement – at least not consciously. Carlie suddenly began to panic. What had she done? She had abducted herself. Was nobody coming to rescue her? Abruptly shaking and twisting and struggling, Carlie overbalanced the stool-coat-rack contraption and crashed face-first to the floor. Her nose cracked against the upright of the rack and the rubber cock in her mouth, pounded the back of her throat, almost ripping a new opening. Suddenly still again, she could feel blood oozing from her nose, seeping into the edges of her mouth, its metallic flavour blending with the overpowering taste of latex. She could feel her bruised throat swelling, further restricting her air passage. She lay motionless.