Ivys Rapist Ch 02

Ivy is laying on her bed with her arms tied above her head and her feet tied to the bottom bedposts. Her blouse is torn and laying open exposing her beautiful breasts held within a white lace bra. Her black skirt is a disheveled ball around her waist. Her nylons are torn and pulled open, baring the tops of her legs and her abused sex where I have just finished fucking her, a thin trickle of white semen can be seen dripping from her red, swollen slit.

Above the gag over her mouth her eyes stare at me in disbelief. Not so much over the act that I have just finished performing, but at the news I have just laid on her.

"Yea, you thought this was all over. That I was just gonna put on my clothes and go trotting on out of here all happy and carefree now that I've fucked you once."

I chuckle as I sip at my glass of ice water. I stand above her, naked, my cock shimmering with the drying juices from having fucked her delicate pussy.

"Well, I'm here to tell you that that just is not happening."

I take a step forward and set the glass on the night stand. Then I reach out and gently stroke her black hair, moving a few strands away from her face. I lean down and stare deep into her eyes, seeing the mixture of shame and fear inside of them.

"See, I've been blessed with two things," I tell her. "A lack of a conscience and a ravenous sex drive, one that would make any man, even a young one, jealous. So I ain;t leaving until I've had my fill."

I stand back up then and tower over her.

"Now, I'm willing to bet that you gotta go pee right about now. And depending on how much you had to drink with dinner, it could be a pretty powerful urge too."

I see in her expression her own realization at the correctness of my statement.

"Problem is, I don't think it's safe to untie you and let you use the toilet." I shrug. "So, the only thing I can say is either hold it or piss your bed, right where you lay."

She looks at me with a surprised and shocked glare in her eyes.

"And I can tell you now, no matter how hard you try, you aren't gonna hold it long enough. You will end up peeing your bed. So you might as well get it over with and avoid the pain of trying to hold it."

I turn away and reach for my pants that are laying on the floor by the armchair. After I pull them on I stroll into the bathroom to relieve myself. While I stand before her toilet pissing I glance around the facilities. It's a master bath, a door leads into it right from the bedroom, but it is not very big or luxurious. The single sink, toilet and tub are all plain. A set of plastic, see-through sliding doors serve as the shower curtain. There are a few decorations around the room but not many.

She watches me as I stroll back past the bed on my way to the chair but I ignore her. I reach into my bag and pull out a magazine. Sitting down in the chair I flip open the magazine and start reading an article that is earmarked.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Ivy squirming on the bed. She is trying to find a semi-comfortable position while concentrating on holding her own pee. The restraints hold her limbs secure and she ends up in an awkward half-on-the-side position, her face turned away from me. I can just see the start of a gently curving mound as one of her ass cheeks peek out at me.

Over the next thirty minutes or so I read the magazine while watching her through the corner of my eye. She squirms around every few minutes, struggling to find a more comfortable position while fighting the urge to relax and pee. Occasionally I can hear a muffled sob from beneath the gag but she is quite good at keeping her crying hidden and quiet.

I leave her alone during this, letting her mind work over the details of what has happened and what is going to happen. She is a strong willed woman, her inner fire had burned in her eyes even after the initial rape, but she can be broken . . . She will be broken.

They all are broken eventually. Some quicker than others, some slower. But I have yet to fail at any. It is actually kind of surprising how easily some of them have broken. You watch them in their lives and you think that they are strong and resilient, that it would take a massive blow to even shake the foundation of their resilience. But then you get them alone, you bring them to this point, and you find that all the outer walls were nothing more than a mirage.

Then there's the others. The ones who seem so meek and fragile, so easily flustered and brought to tears. But you throw them into an extreme situation like this and suddenly you find that their inner strength is what myths are created from.

Of course you always find the ones who are exactly as they appear too. The ones who seem weak and helpless and end up breaking within the first seconds of the initiation. And the ones like Ivy here. The ones who not only appear strong as mountains, heavily fortified against the ways of the world and the damage that it can cause, but truly are.

But no mind, she will break. She will fold and crumble, her iron clad walls of inner fortitude evaporating just like everyone else's.

Yes, she will crumble.

I decide it's been long enough. The sight of her disarrayed clothing and struggling body are working their magic inside of me. I set the magazine on the floor and stand up. She doesn't notice, her back is mostly toward me, her eyes facing the opposite wall, her mind too occupied to notice any of the sounds I make as I step toward the bed.

For a minute I simply stand over her, looking down and admiring the view she presents. Her black hair is a tussled mess now, having been thrown and tossed about with her actions. A few strands lay across the visible profile of her face along with the evidence of several dried tears. Her eyes are closed so she has no idea that I am there.

Her white blouse, the thing that had been so well ironed and postured through her day, is now a wrinkled mess, the loose flap of it laying behind her on the bed so that her torso is bare, except the lace bra still cupping her breasts. The side angle I have shows me the one on her right, its luscious mound pushing outward inside the lace material, the top curve delicately displayed. Above her head her arms are stretched, held by the rope and bent in an awkward attempt at comfort, the long sleeves of her blouse being stretched and held near her wrist by the buttoned cuffs.

At and just below her waist the black skirt is a rumpled mass of material, folds and creases everywhere. A half moon orb of her one ass cheek is visible, the soft, delicate flesh held tone by firm muscles. From beneath the skirt her legs shoot down, the nylons around them now rumpled and ripped, their tops pulled most of the way off her waist and hips. One high heel has remained intact, its straps holding firm to the ankle next to the rope holding it.

I sigh quietly and reach down to brush at her cheek, stirring the loose strands of hair laying across it. She jumps from my sudden touch, her body jerking and her eyes flying open as she turns a little to look up at me. A soft, startled yelp is heard from beneath the gag. Instantly the smell of urine invades the air. In her eyes I see a mixture of disgust, relief and sadness. I grin down at her knowingly.

"You pee'ed the bed, Ivy. You're a dirty little girl." I tell her in a soft voice. "I don't know why you fought it for so long. As I told you, it was inevitable."

This seems to rekindle some of the fire inside of her and she jerks herself onto her back, rolling and jerking at her restraints once more. I can tell she is cussing at me behind the gag, her muted sounds flaring with the anger she is feeling.

I simply remain where I am and continue to stroke at her cheek even as she jerks and tries to pull her face away from my touch. Her bodily actions cause the blouse to stir and flutter, her bra encased breasts to roll and bounce, jiggle under the exaggerated movements she is making. Her legs twist and roll too, the nylons being yanked even further down her thighs by the actions.

I allow her a few moments of all this before I decide it is time to stop her. I am growing concerned about her wrists and ankles. Her violent actions are causing the ropes to cut at the flesh in these places. With a sudden growl of exasperation I throw myself onto the bed, draping my one leg across her lower torso. The hand stroking her cheek slips back and I fill it with a fistful of her hair, yanking it up and back so that I have control of her head. My other hand slaps down onto her upper chest with a flat palm, the cup between thumb and forefinger just centimeters below her throat.

"Settle down, bitch," I growl. "Settle down before I'm forced to hurt you bad. You're only rubbing your wrists raw, scraping your ankles sore and you aren't causing me any strife. So stop hurting yourself, you bitch."

Now her eyes are filled with renewed fright, they stare up at me in shocked torment. But her body is still as she freezes in place. I watch as her nostrils flare from her heaving breaths and wait for a moment as they settle down, her heart slowing, her breathing becoming less violent.

"That's better," I whisper after another moment. "Now, I said I'm here for a while and I meant it. That means the time while I'm here as well as after I leave can go one of two ways. Which way, is entirely up to you. You can spend the time tied up like this, pissing the bed and then laying in it, sleeping in your own urine after I leave . . ."

I pause here, allowing her brain a few seconds to absorb the mental image of what I have just said.

"Or, you can behave yourself and be allowed your freedom once I leave. But it's up to you. You have to decide just how bad you want this whole thing to be. How much shame, humiliation and discomfort you can handle."

I watch as her eyes slowly close and see another tear leak from the corner of one. I hear her breathing and see her chest rise and fall softly. I can tell her mind is in a turmoil, that it is being pushed hard to absorb and accept everything that has been happening. I release the hold I have in her hair and pull my hand away from her throat, pulling my legs into position so that I am sitting comfortably astride her hips, my body sitting atop her waist. My eyes rove down from her face, sliding along her neck and across her chest to where her beautiful breasts are rising and falling inside the bra. They are so delicately displayed, so lusciously exposed, their milky mounds rising from her body.

I reach out and cup one of her tits in each of my hands. The lace material tickles my palms. I gently squeeze and push the mounds, plying the flesh to form and shape under my touch. Her eyes remain closed as I do this. I know that she is aware but trying to ignore it.

I continue to cup and squeeze the twin orbs inside their lace cups, sliding my hands up along the sides of them and tickling the upper, bared curves where they disappear into the bra. I push them together and watch their pliant flesh mold into new shapes of raised height. I palm the very tops and witness their semi-flattening shapes. I squeeze and maul them through the bra, rolling them this way and that, fascinated by the beauty of their shapes, the feel of their flesh and the delicateness of their prison.

Under the bra her nipples start to harden. At first I am only able to feel this through the thin material, but soon their stiffening shapes are visible too. They are growing hard and firm from my attentions, responding to my touch, stiffening beneath the garment and pressing at its material.

She whimpers from the mixture of inner pain from what I am doing to her and shame at her body's reaction to it. A couple more tears appear from her closed eyes. She is forcibly holding them closed now, I can see the strain on her brow from her fighting the urge to open her lids and glare at me as I play with her breasts.

Inside I can feel the fires heating up. Inside my pants I feel my balls warming up, I feel my cock twitching into an awakened state.

I cup and squeeze the white encased mounds, rolling their pliant flesh in my hands. Her head rolls to the side. Unable to stop herself completely any longer I see her eyes open slightly, the orb within rolling to look up from the corner of that slit. She whimpers again, her mind sadly recognizing the effect that her hard nipples indicate my attentions are having.

"You like having your tits played with, don't you slut?" I quietly growl. "You like it."

She whimpers again as she forces her eyes closed once more, her head rolling to the other side and back again.

"Yea, you like having your tits played with. Your nipples are hard."

My own fires are heating up even more, my cock growing inside of my pants.

Releasing the cupped hold I have on her mounds I grab the top edges of her bra and yank down hard, jerking at it from the sides and top at once, tearing and ripping at the material. The stitches give way and the cupping material pulls away from the strapping. Her breasts bound into full view, the hard, dark red nipples shining at their tops. The fleshy mounds roll atop her chest with their new freedom, their soft flesh vibrating with their release.

She inhales sharply, her chest rising with the sudden intake of air. Her head snaps straight and she stares up at me with wide open eyes again, her shock and anger glaring brightly.

"They're beautiful," I whisper.

Now I reach out and cup her bared breasts, the soft flesh caressing the palms of my hands. I cup and squeeze them, roll their delicateness around in my hands and caress the hard nipples. I stare amazed as her nipples become even firmer under my direct attentions.

After a few minutes of this I grip the outer sides of them and push them together, watching the mounds pile into one another. I bend down and hold my face an inch away from them. Through the tops of my eyes I see her roll her head away and close her eyes tightly once more. My tongue flickers out and strokes across the top of one nipple. Beneath me I sense a short, sharp intake of breath by her. My tongue flickers again and again. I brush it over and over the sensitive nub, moistly caressing the hard little button.

A minute later I turn my head slightly and treat the other nipple to the same attention before bending lower and kissing it gently. As my lips caress the hard button I slither my tongue between them and stroke it again, then I open my mouth and lock my lips around her nipple, suckling it into my mouth and loving it with my oral wetness.

She is whimpering more now, the gag muting her combination of complaints and needful desires. Her head rolls to the opposite side and settles for a second before rolling back again.

I continue to suckle on this nipple for a minute before transferring my lips to cover the other and suckle at it. While I hold the hard nub within my wet mouth I suck deeply on it and roll my tongue over it again and again.

Forcing her eyes to remain closed Ivy rolls her head from side to side as if saying "No" silently over and over. She is whimpering and cursing at me from behind the gag as she mentally fights the building heat my tit sucking is creating in her body.

The whole thing is too much for me and I leap from the bed, tearing at my pants as I watch her body rock upon the mattress from my sudden movement, her tits rolling with it. She turns to watch as I quickly drop my pants, my now hard cock popping into view. She stares at this, a mixture of sadness and fear in her eyes.

Once my pants are laying in a pile on the floor again I reach past her and grab two of the pillows at the head of her bed. Placing my palm beneath her ass I lift her up, giving the soft flesh there a gentle squeeze as I do, then cram the pillows beneath her. I glance at her pussy while I do this and see a thin sheen of wetness, a mixture of our earlier encounter, her pee and a dampening that my attentions to her breasts has caused. It looks inviting but I know that it is not wet enough so I grab the bottle of lubricant from my bag once more and squirt some onto my hand.

As I stand over her, watching her squirm unconsciously under the glare of my eyes I grip my hard cock and give it a few strokes, spreading the lubricant over the fleshy pole. Her eyes watch me do this, they stare at my stroking hand and the rigid pole being caressed.

I drop the bottle back into my bag and start to climb onto the bed between her legs. She jumps as I do this, attempting to pull her body away from me as my hand touches her thigh and my knees slip between her spread legs.

"No sense in fighting it, slut," I chuckle. "I am gonna fuck you again."

With the pillows under her ass her hips are jutted upward, raised for my penetration as I kneel there between her thighs, my hand still slowly stroking my cock. I lean forward a little and aim the rigid member at her slit then press forward. As the head of my cock parts her pussy lips she rolls her face to the side and closes her eyes once more, refusing to watch me as I enter her. I grip her hips with either of my hands and slowly push forward, feeling the muscles of her cunt wrap themselves around the circumference of my cock as it gradually penetrates her.

"Yea, slut, feel my cock filling your pussy," I groan as I stuff the entire length into her. "Feel my cock stuffing your sweet pussy."

I grind myself into her then, rolling my buried cock around inside her sex. I rock my hips slightly, pulling only an inch or two out before pushing it back inside to grind at her some more.

Looking down at her I admire the way her beautiful breasts rest atop her chest, the torn remains of her lace bra hanging there, the strapping held in place. My actions cause her body to rock slightly with me and her tits roll gently with the movement.

I reach up with my hands and grab a hold of them, squeezing and plying at the fleshy mounds with the still hard nipples atop them. They mold and form beneath my manipulation, their soft flesh rolling under my fingers and in my grip. I stroke my thumbs across the tops, sliding them across the sensitive nipples with a gentle, barely perceptible touch. I feel her body tense and jerk ever so slightly as I do this and I know that bolts of pleasure are being created within her by my touch.

"Oh yea, you do like having your tits played with, don't you slut? It feels good having my hands all over your tits, having me play with them and touch your hard nipples."

I continue to massage her breasts as I rock my hips back and forth with a growing need, sliding more of my cock out of her before slipping it back forward and into her. I palm the tops of her tits, smashing down on the soft mounds and covering her nipples with my hands. I grip at them, squeezing their soft flesh with slightly more pressure.

She remains with her face turned to one side, her eyes closed.

Once more I slip my hands down to the sides of her tits and push them together, pressing their flesh against each other. Slowing my fucking actions I bend down. Holding her tits steady I drop my mouth over one of the hard nipples and slide my tongue across its sensitive flesh as I suckle on the mound.

I hear a soft whimper slip from beneath her gag and smile as I continue to suckle and lick at her nipple. I pull my mouth away and turn it over to the other nipple. As I lick and suckle on this one I hear a few more whimpers and feel her chest being raised up ever so slightly.

This ignites the burning inside of myself and I feel a need growing with rapid expansion. I jerk my mouth away from her tit and raise myself up so that I'm kneeling high above her once more. My hands remain fixed on her tits and I begin to maul and squeeze at their pliant flesh with a hungry vigor. I rock my hips into her now, pushing and pulling nearly the entire length of my cock into and out of her pussy. Around it I can feel a wetness growing, can feel the muscles of her pussy contracting from my assault.