Resistance Is Futile

Penny sat as still and quiet as she could, no longer sobbing, no longer fighting the ropes tied so tightly around her wrists and ankles. She didn't press her tongue against the gag in her mouth anymore, either; it only made her start to choke, and she wanted to be utterly silent, some small part of her hoping that they would forget about her, that no one would come back and make good on the threats they'd left behind.

Drying tears stained her cheeks with their high-boned perfection, and her big tawny brown eyes were swollen and red-rimmed from the crying and wordless begging she'd done earlier. Her dark brown hair was tousled and hung partially in her face, wild and uncombed, and her clothes stuck to her body, sweat running between her ample breasts. It was hot in this dark room, but she was too scared to care about her comfort level at this point. She was more worried about her life.

Penny's father was into some bad stuff, she knew, but she hadn't realized it could be dangerous for her and the rest of the family. She'd assumed she was safe, tucked away in her college dorm on the tightly secured campus. But last night, at the frat party, she'd been kidnapped. It wasn't one of the huge blowouts with group orgies and drunken brawls, just a few friends getting together and dancing, laughing. She'd thought it was safe.

Now, she regretted having gone, looking around at the room, the only light a sliver of sunlight peeking through a black curtain over a tiny window. In the dim light, it looked like a fairly standard motel room, and that made her nervous but not nearly as nervous as the fact that she was strapped to the bed. Her wrists were bound behind her back around a post on the headboard, and her feet were tied slightly apart to rungs on the footboard. It was a vulnerable position any way you looked at it, and when her captor had left with that sinful smile of his, she'd lost all hope of coming out of this safe.

Even as she thought about it again and wondered just how much money her father owed the man, the door opened, and bright light filled the doorway around a silhouette. She couldn't see anything but the bright light and a dark shadow of a tall, muscular figure, and she had to squint at the sudden light, wondering just how long she'd been in here, having lost track of time.

The man stepped forward and closed the door behind him, and Penny's first reaction was relief, for this was not the man who had bound her. It was another man, one she didn't know but who felt slightly less evil. Then, he took another step toward her, and she flinched, her nerves tightening her muscles again, her stomach clenching in fear.

He spoke, his voice deep and raspy, coming from a long throat set above a chest so muscular it stretched the cloth of his black T-shirt so that the seams looked like they would tear if he flexed at all. "I'll take the gag out and give you some water if you promise not to scream." His lips were full and moved sensuously, seemingly out of place in a very angular, masculine face.

Penny felt weak, and she wanted the gag removed, needed moisture in her throat, so she nodded, weakly, hoping he wasn't taunting her. While he seemed less frightening than the other man, he still had an aura of strength and malice.

He moved toward her, seeming to hesitate a moment, then settled on the edge of the bed, almost gingerly. He reached for the lamp on the bedside table and turned it on, the light giving off a dim glow in the still darkened room. It wasn't much, but it allowed her to see the man more clearly. His eyes were midnight blue, so close to black it was eerie, and his hair was dark waves that fell just over his eyes. He flipped his head, tossing the curls back in an almost feminine movement and yet still seemed utterly masculine and...scary.

He reached out both of his giant hands, and they snaked around behind her neck, working at the knot in her gag until it was loose. He drew the cloth down, removing it from her mouth slowly and letting her work her jaw a bit, trying to moisten her lips and remove the stiffness. He stood and moved across the room toward the mini-fridge she could now see, reaching in and grabbing a bottle of water. He opened it, then came back to his perch on the bed and held it to her lips.

The water trickled in, and Penny almost choked, trying to swallow past the dry lump in her throat. He backed off, giving her a moment to get control of herself, then offered more. She drank greedily until the bottle was only about half full, then pulled away. A splash of cold water landed on her chest before he pulled it away, and she gasped at the sensation.

He sat the bottle on the nightstand and reached out to touch the spot where the water had landed, just above her nipple, and she jerked away, though she couldn't actually avoid his touch because of the bindings. His fingertips brushed across her breast, and he muttered, "Sorry about that." He didn't pull his hand away but rather trailed his fingers down her stomach toward the space between her legs, his touch gentle but unwelcome.

It made Penny whimper slightly, and she asked, her voice a coarse whisper, "What do you want from me?"

He smiled, a cross between a predatory snarl and an embarrassed grin. "I want your body." He palmed her, through her jeans, his hand large enough to cover her, and he squeezed lightly. It made her whimper again, and he made a shushing noise. "You don't have to be scared of me."

She shook her head, and when she spoke, her voice was slightly louder but very shaky with emotion. "I don't even know you, how can you do this to me?"

The man withdrew his hand quickly, as though a snake had bitten him, and he frowned. "Eric, my name is Eric. I should have introduced myself." He offered his name and apology politely, as if they were meeting at a club or a party, and it only served to make Penny more apprehensive. What was this man planning to do to her? If he was going to be so kind, so careful in the way he addressed her, could she talk him out of touching her again, or doing anything more?

"Please, Eric, please don't hurt me." Her voice was pleading, groveling, and she was not ashamed. She didn't want to be used by a stranger. "Please, I'm sure my father will do whatever you ask to get me back, just don't hurt me."

The shock that registered on his face confused her briefly, and she stopped talking. "But I'm not here about your father. That's Nick's territory. I just want you." As he said it, his voice gentle, he reached out again, this time caressing the side of her face. She inhaled, sharply, a quick breath, and held very still, not wanting to do anything that might encourage him, including resist him.

It was so hard, so difficult to be still and quiet when all she wanted to do was scream and curl up into herself as far away from his touch as possible. She tried again to put him off, using his name. She'd read somewhere that, if you used names and addressed people personally, you were more likely to get through to them. "Please, Eric, I want to go home. You don't know me, and I don't think you want this from me."

He smiled sadly and shook his head, tossing around those soft-looking curls. "I think you underestimate your appeal, Penny." He scooted back, more of him on the bed, until his hip was touching her thigh. "Now, I promise I won't hurt you, or at least I'll try, but I think you'll feel better if you just don't fight me." His smile warmed slightly. "In fact, you might find that you're even attracted to me, that you want me, too."

Penny wanted to protest but couldn't find her voice as he stood, then crawled onto the bed on his hands and knees, toward the foot of the bed. When he was even with her feet, he turned toward her, his knees straddling her calves, and he began to crawl back up the bed toward her, his hands running up her legs. Her entire body tensed, and her voice screamed inside her head, NO!, but she couldn't seem to make the words come out her mouth.

He sat back on his heels just above her thighs, and his hands cupped her breasts through the thin cloth of her shirt and lace of her bra beneath. She whimpered quietly, unable to hold it in, and his eyes met hers, full of pleasure and wonderment. His voice was a whisper. "So soft, so firm, so perfect." He squeezed gently, found her nipples and brushed them with his thumbs over and over. A satisfied smile grace his lips because, even through her terror, they hardened in response and stood at attention.

This seemed to encourage him, and he reached toward the hem of her shirt, lifting it so that only the sheer lace of her black bra covered her. His gaze on her breasts was appreciative, and he bent his head down, his lips closing over her left nipple through the thin material as he suckled at it. Penny cried out and closed her eyes tight, denying that this was really happening, even as her back arched in an involuntary response.

One of his hands caressed her stomach, the other still on her right breast as he nibbled at her through the lace, then used his tongue to push the lace out of his way so that he could taste the puckered skin around her nipple. He let out a moan, and Penny whimpered again, a whispered, "Please don't," escaping her lips.

He stopped, pulled away, and looked up at her, meeting her eyes with an intense pleasure on his face. "I know you like it, I can feel it. Don't fight it." His fingers toyed at her nipples as he spoke, pinching them and rubbing them. But Penny didn't want it, couldn't help but fight it, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks again.

He sighed and reached around her back to unclasp her bra. "I know you can enjoy this," he whispered against her neck as he released the hooks. Then he frowned, realizing he coldn't take it off without untying her. He caught her eyes again and said, "I want you to cooperate, Penny. I want you to enjoy this, and I need to untie you. Will you behave for me?"

He was going to untie her. If she just promised not to fight him, he'd take the ropes off. If she was loose, she could fight him and run. She had to lie, had to tell him she'd do what he wanted, so she nodded, not speaking a word, and the relief on his face was almost as frightening as his desire. He stayed pressed against the front of her as he worked at the knots in the rope behind her back, finally releasing her wrists.

She didn't have time to move away; he caught both of her wrists, one in each hand, and drew them forward slowly, moving them around her body so that her hands rested on his hips. Holding them there, he heaned in and kissed her, gently, like a caress, as if he were trying to draw her out of herself and into him. His tongue pushed through the firm line of her lips, tasting the inside of her mouth and drinking deeply of her. She didn't fight, but she didn't kiss him back, either.

When he pulled back, he was breathless, and she seemed to be having trouble breathing as well. He used one hand to lift both arms over her head and the other to draw her shirt off, then lowered her arms so he could slide the bra down them. When her chest was bare, he pulled his own shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. He reached with one hand to cup her cheek, and his eyes glittered with adoration. "So beautiful."

Penny had hoped to see that look on some man's face one day, but not here, not like this. She didn't know this Eric, and he was forcing her against her will. That was rape, no matter how much he thought he adored her or how beautiful he might be. It was wrong, and she was scared and angry. She wanted to fight and couldn't, wanted to say no but knew it would do no good.

Even as she thought it, he pushed her back down to the bed, laying her on her back and pressing his body over hers, the bare chest of his flesh hot and heavy against her own. Lower down, she could feel the hard heat of him inside his jeans, pressing against her lower belly, and that startled her even more, caused her terror to grow into a tightly clenched ball in her stomach. This was going to go all the way, she thought in despair.

She struggled beneath him, unable to be still and let this happen, but he caught both of her wrists again and pinned them to the bed above her head with one hand as his mouth and free hand began to explore her bare chest and stomach, touching, kissing, nibbling as he moved lower and lower. "Please," she whispered again, praying that he would hear her and heed her desperate request.

Instead, he reached his hand between her legs, still bound and spread a few inches apart, and began to massage the warm, private area between her thighs. She felt more tears rolling down her cheeks, but she no longer felt hopeful, no longer held out the slightest hope that she might stop this. Instead, she tried to find a quiet corner within herself to hide, so she could pretend it wasn't her but someone else that was being touched so intimately.

Eric released her wrists, shifting his entire body lowered so that her bare upper body was suddenly cold without him pressed against it. His hands worked deftly, swift and easy, unbuttoning her jeans, then tugging them down, along with her panties, until she was completely exposed. Penny let out a long moan of humiliation and desolation as he just lay there and stare for a long moment.

Then, his mouth dove in between her legs, and he used his hands to spread her thighs wider, giving him better access to the warmth of her center. His tongue plunged deep inside, and the sensation of it was so raw, so intimate, that she gasped and came up off the bed. He laughed, and the vibration of his lips against her made her shiver. This wasn't right, she thought. She was afraid, angry, hurt, confused; her body should be in shock, unable to respond to his touch in any way, especially in this way.

Even as the thought filled her mind, it was shattered by teeth, closing ever so gently on her clit and tugging so it was just this side of painful. "Eric!" she screamed, wanting to beg him to stop and unable to say any more.

He took it as a sign of encouragement, and his tongue began to work again, lapping at her, diving inside of her, and Penny had to close her eyes. She tried to think of other things, of the paper she was working on for her anthropology class, of the birthday party she was planning for her roommate, of the fact that she needed to wash her car. Anything to get her mind away from what was happening to her.

But those thoughts were vague shadows in her mind as Eric's tongue found her clit and two of his fingers snaked up inside of her, curling around and testing her. She whimpered, this time from a mixture of fear and sensation that, in other circumstances, she would have called pleasure. But there was nothing pleasant about this scenario.

"I'm going to untie you legs so I can get your pants off." His voice was lower, hoarse now, and he spoke so that his breath tickled over the parts of her he'd been licking. She wanted to think the moisture between her legs had all come from his mouth, but somehow, she knew that her body was betraying her mind. "Will you keep behaving if I do?"

Penny had the presence of mind to realize that he was offering to free her completely of the ropes, and that she would be able to kick and fight and run if her feet were untied. She nodded vigorously, hoping he would be convinced, and that was all he needed. He jerked the ropes free, then pulled her pants off completely so she lay entirely nude on the bed.

He stared down at her as he began to work his own jeans, his fingers fumbling slightly in his excitement and anticipation. She took the second she had and shot up in bed, kicking at him, and tried to roll to the floor. Before she could get away, he caught her ankle, using it to tug her back toward him, then closed his hands around her waist and hoisted her back up onto her belly on the bed.

He pinned her with his body, grabbing the back of her next tight in one hand, and leaned in so his mouth was an inch from her ear. "You lied to me." He used his grip to turn her head so that her cheek was pressed against the bed, and he licked the cheek that was exposed. "I told you to cooperate, that I didn't want to hurt you. Why couldn't you just enjoy this?"

What was she supposed to say? Sobbing now, she just shook her head. She couldn't say that her own reaction was what scared her, that it wasn't him and the situation anymore but the fact that she might truly enjoy some part of this in a sick, twisted way. He moved his hand to the small of her back and pressed down, holding her in place as he worked his pants off, then lay back down on top of her, using his knees to push her legs wide apart.

She screamed, his forcing her movement actually hurting. She could feel his hard shaft pressing against her buttocks, and she braced herself for what she was sure would come next. Instead, his free hand was suddenly massaging between her thighs again, hard and rough, and one finger snaked up inside the center of her. "What are you so afraid of, Penny?" he asked, sitting up and straddling her legs, his other hand firm on her back as he worked her until she was dripping wet. "Are you a virgin?"

And that thought made her whimper harder. His hand stilled, one finger still inside her, his palm pressed tight against her, another finger firm against her clit. "Jesus, you are, aren't you?" He hesitated another moment, listening to her sobs, then began to tease her again, a little more gently this time. "Don't fight it, Penny, it'll hurt more."

But now, it wasn't pain she was worried about. She didn't want to know how many other women this Eric had abused in this way, but she had to think it was a large number because his touch was just right. It was almost intoxicating to the point that she bordered on that pain threshold but couldn't help feeling aroused by the work he was doing. She didn't want to be here, and she wanted to fight her body, even as the intensity built in her lower stomach like something ready to explode.

He pressed his body back on top of her as he began to move not one but two fingers in and out of her, the moisture now so thick that it made wet noises. He began to murmur against her hair. "Your pussy is so sweet, tastes so good, and you've denied it to everyone until now. It's so warm and wet and ready to go, it's just begging me to take it. Let yourself go, Penny, ride the pleasure. Just cum. I want you to cum."

His fingers picked up speed, and a third one joined the first two. Penny screamed, wordlessly, and she writhed on the bed. No, she thought, no, I won't let it happen. I can control at least this much of the situation. But even as she thought it, his other arm pushed its way under her, and the fingers on that hand began to toy with her clit until she had no sane thoughts left. The word no still screamed through her mind, but she no longer understood what she wanted to say no to.

The orgasm crashed over her, and she screamed, over and over, as his fingers kept digging at it, drawing out the pleasure in a way Penny would never have believed possible. She bucked against him, rode his hand, and he held her down with his body, his laughter breathing down her spine and making her shudder even as the waves of orgasm quieted.

As soon as she realized what had happened, she felt guilty, dirty, and she tried to pull out from under him. His hands came down hard on her shoulders, and he wiggled himself down between her legs so that she could feel the head of him touching her, pressing against her opening. "Oh, we're not done yet. Now it's my turn," he told her.

She opened her mouth to protest, but he rammed into her, all of him deep within, drawing a cry of pain from her lips. Her hands clawed at the bed, trying to shed some of the hurt, but she didn't have time to recover before he slid almost all the way out, only the very tip of him still inside her, then shoved himself deep into her again. There was less pain this time, but it still hurt.