"I've chased you for over a year you slut and now I'm going to have you. Don't deny that you want it. We both know that you crave my stinking cock to be inside you."
Roughly the fat, dirty man pulled her hair downward tipping her head back so that her chin came even with his lips. His breath smelled like something long dead and decomposing.
The rope around her wrists pulled tight and caused pain to shoot from her arm sockets to her fingers. Yet she didn't move, she was afraid to move.
"You know you'd like to kiss me and cum for me, he remarked. His lips just touched the edge of hers, "don't you?" he asked again, "Why resist?"
Her eyes opened wide, yet she didn't move.
She reminded him of a little mouse on a chain. He enjoyed watching her twist endlessly at the end of his ropes. Her nude blonde body was sexy. The more she suffered the harder he always became when he came to visit her. It was better when she begged him. He intended her to beg tonight.
Lightening flashed over head and the wind began to stir the leaves around them. She stood on a dirt surface. The grass had long since vanished because of the time she'd spent suspended from the weeping willow above.
"You know it's going to rain soon," he promised, taking a portion of her skin between his fingers he began to pinch. He didn't release until he knew it was aching.
"Makes you want me to fuck you doesn't it little one?" he asked.
He winked at her and moved away.
She didn't move. Her eyes always reflected her fear. This time he saw something else too. Something he wasn't sure he was reading correctly. Could it be lust?
He pulled her closer encircling her waist with one arm so that it became easier for his greedy hands and filthy fingers to assault her breasts.
With his bad breath gone she found that she was able to breathe again. She was happy about that.
"Look at those nipples grow!" he said, as his grimy fingers passed over each one and then pinched them into life.
His fingers traveled lower until they met the rim of her pussy. She trembled, he eased his fingers inside.
Her eyes widen. This can't be happening she reasoned and tried to pull away. Gently his fingers moved inside her, caressing teasing promising more then he planned to deliver.
"Don't tell me you don't like that, bitch," he whispered in her ear. Suddenly she felt his hand collide with her backside. The force of the blow caused her to gasp. After that it began to ache.
"Look at the size of your nipples." He laughed again. "You can't tell me you're not turned on."
Slowly he withdrew his fingers from her pussy and passed them under her nose. "Smell yourself bitch," he said. She jerked backward, staggering as she went. He came forward and pulled her back into his arms resting his chin against his. One at a time he began licking his fingers.
"Finger lickin'good!" he remarked and laughed.
The sky danced with lightening and rain began to fall in a drizzle. The sensation was cool. She relaxed.
Suddenly the arms holding her tight and up right let go. She staggers. Her feet and legs feel like two dead poles which she has little to no control over. The ropes tied around her wrists pull tight, because she feels so displaced and out of order. The branch above her head held tight.
He smiled as he watched her try to find a comfortable way to stand. If she flattened her feet he knew her arms would be pulled. After a while that'd hurt like hell. If she gave them relief by standing on the tip of her toes then her feet, ankles and legs would scream out in pain. No matter what she did it was torture. Her only choice of relief was fucking him. He'd make her beg him to do it.
You are going to have to ask me to make you cum you know," the fat man said, "You want to cum again don't you?"
She looked upward at him and moaned in pain. Her face showed her torment, still she refused to speak.
He laughed and his huge body jiggled. The droplets of rain only made the smell of his unwashed skin worse. The droplets of rain increased in size. The dry dirt under her feet began to dampen and patches of mud began to form.
Slowly he circled her body. Almost like the ring leader in a circus. His wet shirt wrinkled, smelly and stained stuck to his body like glue. He slowly unbuttoned it and dropped it by the shed.
Her arms ached from the ropes. They were beginning to feel numb. Her legs begged to sit down, but if she did sit her arms would fall off she was sure. Her toes felt so stuff and numb that she wasn't sure she could move them anymore.
As he circles her body he continues to discard clothing. His belt is the next item to go. He doubles it between his hands and cracks it loudly. She shivers. He just smiles and caresses her moaning body with dirty fingers. The belt is a promise of future events. He discards it between two branches of the tree for later use.
Her eyes travel to the old shed. It's the only place she finds any comfort. Like clockwork he chains her to it. He allows her to bath and relax for 48 hours then he ties her back up again and the same torment is enforced.
He watches her eying the shed. He looks forward to the events that will transpire in that building before the sun rises. She has everything that he admires in a woman. She is tall, trim and beautiful. Her long, long hair is her best feature he admits.
His eyes follow her reddish hair as it swings around in circles along her body in waves of curls. It is thick and knotted from his rough handling; the dampness from the rain only makes her more desirable he reasons.
Her eyes move away from the shed and back to him, almost begging him to end it.
"Why doesn't he just get it over with?" She wonders.
She shifts position allowing her feet to lay flat on the ground for relief only briefly. Then she quickly changes positions. He knows her body is crying out in pain.
"It's almost time isn't it lovely," he remarks. Watching her only makes him harder.
He as waited all day for this relief. She will be his in moments. The joy of her pain only gives him more pleasure. All she has to do is ask…
"Please," she whispers finally, "please."
"Please what?" he asks taking great pleasure in her suffering.
