Demon Dean Pt 02

His hands were under his head, fingers interlaced and his breaths were deep and steady. She was lying on her side, her back turned to him. Her eyes were closed and she was trying to clear her mind, breathe and get her crying under control. It wasn't working. What had he just said about a second time?

"Don't feel bad, Laura. You just picked the wrong night to come here."

The blindfold was wet from her tears and sweat. She was sort of glad he had put it on her as it now felt like it was shielding her from him. As stupid as it sounded she would be embarrassed to have to look at his face right now.

"But you're in luck. I don't mind a little company."

The bed creaked a little and she could feel his eyes upon her. She swallowed hard, suddenly afraid again. She couldn't handle that thing again. His hands on her and his cock inside of her. The whole thing had been foul and physical. She had no idea it would be so physical. Her body felt bruised where he had touched her.

"Not really a talker are you," he said, and then his hand was on her arm, pushing her back down on the mattress and turning her towards him. She gasped when her weight was put on her sore wrists. The tattered remains of her shirt slid down too, exposing her breasts to him. This was the most vulnerable she had ever felt and been.

"My wrists hurt," she said between tightly clenched teeth and was surprised at how calm and cool her voice sounded.

"It speaks," he said and chuckled. "Roll over and I'll make you more comfortable."

She froze, thinking he meant something sinister by that, and hence didn't move. He rose from the bed and after a few seconds he rolled her onto her stomach again. She was about to scream but then realised he was unlocking the cuffs. He took them off. At first she didn't move. Then she brought her arms forward and winced at a new fierce pain in her joints. Ignoring it, she levered herself to a sitting position and then reached up to take off the blindfold. He didn't stop her, nor did he say anything. She took it off and opened her eyes. The light in the room was too bright and she quickly closed them again, but not before noting that he was still standing right by the bed. She tried to cover herself with her shirt but it was too torn up to be of much use.

She opened her eyes a little and slowly got accustomed to the light. The lamp in the ceiling was the only one on in the room. She wondered if anybody passing by on the road would care about the lights being on in this house. Probably not. They had been for the past couple of weeks when she had been trying to sell the place. So had the heating, thank god. She was still cold though and crossed her arms in front of her. Of course, she didn't have anything on below the waist.

Shaking her head she cleared that thought and glanced at the man, afraid to be caught looking at him. He had bent down to pick up his jeans and were putting them on now. He was tall, with a fit body. There was no six pack or bulging muscles but he was strong. She saw it and she had felt it. His hair was cut short and dark blonde or maybe light brown, it was impossible to tell. His eyes were the same; maybe green, maybe brown. He had said his name was Dean. How he knew her name she still didn't know.

"Sex makes me hungry. Come on," he said and nodded toward the door.

"This wasn't sex," she blurted out. "You forced yourself on me."

"Semantics," he replied with an amicable smile and reached out to help her off the bed. She ignored him and rose unsteadily from the bed. Her coat was on the floor and she quickly bent to pick it up, afraid he would stop her. He didn't and she put it on, buttoning the front. She reached down to pick up her trousers, and this time he did stop her, a hand in her hair, pulling her up again.

"You don't need them," he said. "I like easy access."

She felt nauseous as he released her hair and gave her a push towards the door. He opened it and then put a heavy hand on her neck, guiding her out in the corridor and down the stairs. She glanced furtively towards the front door but he made her turn toward the kitchen instead.

"When are you going to let me go?" she said as they entered the kitchen, still brightly lit from their earlier visit. He led her to the kitchen table by the window and pulled up a chair.

"Sit down," he said.

"Please let me go, I-"

"SHUT UP AND SIT DOWN," he growled and shoved her towards the chair. His voice had changed, there was a coldness to it and for a second his eyes had darkened. The actual colour of his eyes. Not his expression. She swallowed and quickly sat down.

He leaned over her and grabbed her right hand, put a cuff around her wrist and then clipped the other to one of the radiator pipes under the window sill.

"Is there any food in this place?" he asked, moving towards the cabinets. The coldness was gone from his voice. While he rummaged through the cabinets she looked out through the window. The closest house was at least three miles away, and the road was pretty much deserted at this hour. Nobody could help her.

"Ah. SpaghettiOs. The staple food of America," he said suddenly and she looked up. He was waving a can at her like it was a trophy. She wondered idly if he was crazy. He seemed so completely unperturbed by what he had just done. She looked away as he began to prepare the food, finding a pan and turning on the stove.

He was talking but she found it very hard to pay attention to what he was saying. Outside the snow had started falling and she lost herself in the dancing flakes. They had a calming effect on her and when he put a bowl of food in front of her she ate quietly. She hadn't eaten since breakfast and there was no point in refusing to now. She needed to keep her strength up. Since she could only use her left hand he was finished long before her and sat watching her as she finished the last of the meal.

"Good?" he enquired. She looked at him and nodded. This seemed to please him.

"I'm gonna show you something," he said and got out of his chair. She didn't move as he unlocked her from the radiator. He lifted her to her feet and guided her towards the kitchen cellar, the other cuff dangling from her arm.

"Why don't you go first this time?"

There really was no other option so she did.

She took a few steps down, turned the light on and continued down the staircase.

The previously professional looking wine cellar was a mess. Shelves and wine racks had been knocked down and moved and the centre of the hardwood floor had been destroyed, picked open with an axe that was embedded in the wood next to the hole. A shovel was lying there as well.

"I'm turning it into a dirt floor again. You'll have to change your sales pitch."

"I don't really care," she said, barely audibly and turned around. He was still standing in the middle of the staircase. Smirking, he reached for the light switch, his fingers playing over it for a few seconds before he flipped it off. The cellar was thrown into darkness. She could hear him walking down the stairs and she took a step back, realising it was time again. The second time. She felt disgusted. Afraid. Tired. She backed up until she hit a wall and then there was just nowhere to go.

"Not running away now, eh?" he said, only a couple of feet away in the dark. She didn't reply and barely breathed but she could swear she heard him turn towards the sound of her rapidly beating heart. When next he spoke the distance between them was only inches.

"Let's find out if this will be my favourite time."

He grabbed her coat and pulled her towards him. She raised her hands, trying to push him off but he ignored her flailing arms and tore her coat open, the buttons clattering to the floor. Before she could stop him he pulled the coat down her shoulders, spun her around, tore it off and threw it away.

The chilly air in the cellar enveloped her and she started shivering in her tattered and torn shirt. She kicked out at him and he grabbed her foot, pulled and she fell hard onto her hands and knees. She winced at the pain when he grabbed her cuffed wrist and twisted it, forcing her body to follow his movement and lie down on her stomach.

She pulled her free hand away as he reached for it, lodging it under her body, trying to keep him from cuffing it too. He straddled her, his hard-on pressing into her ass. He leaned heavily on her, squeezing the air out of her lungs, and then reached for her hand and pulled, hard. She fought not to give in but his strength and endurance far superceded hers, and in the end her hands were cuffed behind her back again. He then let go and stood up. She twisted into a sitting position on the floor and looked up into the dark, sensing that he was still close. The sound of him unzipping told her where. She tried to get up but he was on her again, a hand in her hair forcing her back down.

His other hand grabbed her jaw. The pressure of his fingers on her cheeks forced her to open her mouth. He forced his cock past her lips, ignoring her sounds of protest.

"Don't you dare bite me, Laura," he said, and she didn't dare.

He held her tightly by her hair and moved her head back and forth on his cock. He started out slow, almost languorously in the beginning but then he picked up his speed and pushed himself in more forcefully. He let go of her jaw and nestled both hands in her hair, pulling her head towards him at a steady rhythm.

She tried to hold back, to keep him from going too deep but he pushed on. Even when he hit the back of her throat and she gagged he didn't relent. Instead he pushed deeper and she could feel it swell. He held her tightly as he moved in and out without pause, a low moan escaping him. Saliva ran from her mouth and dripped onto her chest.

She tried to move away and for a second he let her. Tears streaming down her face, she took a gasping breath and shuffled back until she hit a wall. But then he grabbed her, pressed her up against the wall and forced himself into her mouth again. Her head was pushed back against the wall as he continued to fuck her mouth, slamming into the back of her throat. She couldn't breathe through her mouth, her nose was clogged and she thought she might pass out.

He pushed into her one more time and then held her down, lodged deep in her throat. Jaws hurting and out of breath, she struggled futilely until he suddenly let go and pulled out of her mouth. She sank to the floor, coughing and gasping for breath, the taste of him strong in her mouth. She could taste remnants of herself too. Gagging, she spat on the floor.

He grabbed her under her arms and dragged her forward, forcing her chest down onto something hard and uneven. Maybe one of the wine racks. He pushed at her legs, making her stand on her knees and put most of her weight on her stomach and chest. The wood bit into her flesh, even more so when he leaned on her. He slapped her thighs apart and she could feel his cock at her entrance.

She tried to move away but he held her firmly in place, guiding his cock into her with one hand. Despite their sweaty struggle she was dry and sore from the last time and it hurt when he pushed himself inside her. As soon as he got moving he grabbed her hips to help him push in harder and deeper but still very slowly. His fingers dug into her flesh as he started going a little faster. She slowly got wet and the pain lessened.

He twisted a hand into her long hair and pulled her head back and then picked up the pace even more, slamming into her fast and hard. She gritted her teeth and tried to be quiet but small rhythmical sounds emanated from her as a result of his thrusts. One of his hands encircled her throat and his fingers dug in, cutting off her ability to breathe.

At first she stoically accepted it, but when he continued to hold her like that her body reacted and started moving anyway, trying to throw him off just to breathe again. But his grip was relentless and she had almost passed out when he finally let go. He slapped her ass hard a couple of times and she came to, greedily drawing breath, unable to focus on anything else. But as soon as her head had cleared the pain in her body made itself known again. She continued to take deep shuddering breaths, trying to focus on that and bent her head down to just suffer through it.

His hands were back on her hips now, drawing her towards him in a quick tempo. She could hear on his breathing that it probably would be over soon. And a few seconds later it was; he pulled her hard against him one more time and buried himself deep inside her. He groaned and his body spasmed a little before he relaxed on top of her. She didn't say anything but prayed he wouldn't fall asleep like that.

After a minute or two he pulled out of her and got up. Her knees felt so weak she didn't think she could get up off the wine rack by herself. She heard him move around and then felt his hands on her waist, lifting her up and onto her feet. She could barely stand. There was a considerable pain in her chest and stomach from where the rack had been, but she clenched her teeth and didn't even let out a whimper.

He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

"I really enjoyed that," he said and leaned in to kiss her cheek. "You were great."

She turned her head away from him and didn't say anything. He led her forward and she yelped when she banged her foot on something hard and solid.

"Oh right, sorry, I forgot you can't see down here," he said, sounding almost sincere. She wondered how he could still see in the pitch black cellar, but didn't ask.

"The staircase's right here. Take a step up with your right foot now. There you go, now the next step."

This mad piece of shit doesn't realise how absurd this is, she thought as he coached her gently up the stairs. When they reached the top he opened the door to the kitchen and she was completely blinded, turning around quickly and almost falling down the stairs again. He grabbed her and led her into the kitchen, her eyes teary and closed.

"Let's get you to bed, Laura"

She didn't object or fight him as he led her down the hall, up the stairs and into the bedroom where he had first raped her just a couple of hours ago. He sat her down on the bed, removed the cuffs and told her to move her arms around for a few minutes. She obliged, never once looking at him. After a few minutes he took her left hand and cuffed it to the iron headboard.

"Gotta get stuff done in the cellar. I'll see you later."

He looked at her searchingly but when she didn't respond he shrugged, and left the room. He turned off the light but left the door open and she heard him humming that god awful song again as he walked down the stairs.

She didn't want to be here for later.