Their Fantasies Come To Life Pt 03

CW: more unhealthy dynamics between these two! It's a non-consent plot...

Can be read as a stand alone story.

Thank you so much to all who have read the earlier installations. For the fourth and final story in this series I want to send these crazy kids back to the host's house and the viewing room. Let me know if you have ideas of what you want to see happen to/between them there!

***

After my last night with the neighbor it was time to put my own plan into action.

She had always thought that she had the upper hand over me. At the beginning I had believed it too. I had coveted her for so long. That night in the viewing room had only deepened my belief that she was untouchable, a goddess to be admired from a far.

That first night that she came to visit me in my apartment I was mortified. I was sure somehow she'd found out about my voyeurism and how close we had briefly been and had come to confront me, disgusted and angry about her violation.

But instead, she'd propositioned me. In all my life I could have never expected something like it. I had been with women, sure. And men too. Even some good looking people. But I could never have imagined having a chance like what she was offering me.

Of course I didn't hesitate to say yes. And from that first taste of her wet pussy, down on my knees worshiping her like I'd always known she deserved, I was hooked.

Over those first few nights together a few things happened.

First, I resolved that no matter what I wouldn't let this opportunity slip from my grasp without trying to turn it into something that would last. That feeling of her body on mine! It was all I'd ever wanted, and better than I'd dreamed. If she wanted me pliant and writhing at her feet I would. Anything for her attention. Anything for her touch.

The second thing that happened, and it shocked me maybe more than the whole situation in and of itself, was that I started to realize that she wasn't so aloof and untouchable as she had always seemed. In fact, while she was putting on a show and playing so tough I began to see through it. I began to see a woman who had it all and wasn't satisfied. A woman who wanted intensity that life wasn't giving her.

The night that she lost control on my dick, fucking me wildly and moaning and coming -- fuck! what a night! -- I realized with a with a jolt that she was a woman who might, if led there properly, succumb to new sexual depths than she had yet let herself explore.

After that night I began to change my thinking on the situation. Sure, I could keep making myself into her plaything. I enjoyed it so much, why not? But, I decided, I could also set another dynamic between us in motion.

I began to hatch a plan the night that she trapped me in the closet to watch her. I had plenty of time that evening to think it through. After all, she left me alone in her apartment unsupervised when they left for dinner.

First, of course, I'd watched them. She couldn't know how many times I had fantasized about that exact thing. How rather than punishing me like she maybe thought she was she was giving me a specially wrapped gift. To watch the two of them together -- with his strong cock railing her tender pussy and her eyes rolling, her soft lips moaning, and her eyes watering as he fucked her mouth -- it was something I'd always wanted.

And, unlike the night in the viewing room where she was still just an unattainable object of desire, now I was close, I had touched her, and I realized that if I played my cards right and got lucky, I might be able to make her mine. The perverse power of it all was intoxicating.

I did as she told me of course. I sat there and watched them, stroking myself lightly but never allowing myself to come. Then, after they left for dinner I crawled up into her bed. Her sweet, soft bed where I had already spent some of the best nights of my life being tortured by her.

I laid there sprawled naked on my back, free now to do what I wanted, and I rubbed my throbbing cock furiously. My mind swirled with thoughts of how I would lay my trap. I imagined making her want me. I imagined making her come. And, with a final burst of inspiration, I imagined making her submit to me completely. With a cry I erupted, the orgasm shaking my body and fixing my plans for her in place in my mind.

I cleaned up then, not wanting to leave any trace that I'd stayed behind after they'd left. It was crucial that she not think about me any more than she otherwise would have. I didn't want to give her any mementos. I didn't want her to suspect for even one moment that I was becoming empowered in our dynamic. I needed her to believe that I'd left that night scorned and desperate. Though it couldn't have been further from the truth.

I took some time then to explore her apartment. I found my clothes where she'd discarded them in the laundry closet. And, lucky for me, she kept a spare set of keys to her place in a small dish right by the front door.

Buzzing with anticipation I slipped the keys into my pocket and left without locking the door behind me.

***

The first thing I could feel was a muddled fog in my mind.

Through the haze I couldn't make out anything else for what felt like a long time.

Slowly sensation started to return to my body. I noticed that my mouth felt cottony and dry.

The next thing I became conscious of was a soft, warm tingling. At first the feeling didn't have a point of origin. It just swam into my mind and asserted itself as the strongest feeling in my body. It was nice, the feeling, and without being conscious of anything else yet I felt heavy with pleasure.

After a few more moments I started to be able to connect sensations to where they were originating in my body. The soft, sweet feeling was coming from between my legs, I realized. And there were other feelings too.

Pressure around my wrists and ankles, not painful but forceful. I tried to blink my eyes open but another sensation made itself known to me then: the soft dampening of something covering my eyes. Starting to stir I tried to bring a hand up to remove the covering from my eyes and realized with a jolt that my hand wouldn't budge. I tried to speak out but discovered that my mouth full of some rough fabric.

An icy feeling washed over me then, as if I'd been doused in cold water. My brain and body leapt to life all at once.

I was tied down. I was blindfolded. I was gagged. And someone was lightly stroking my pussy.

My mind whirred to life, alight with questions.

Where was I? How long had I been tied up here? Had I been drugged? And --

the question gave me a sick feeling --

who was touching me?

I could feel my body betraying me.

I had been lying here wet and flushed with pleasure in the hands of this stranger!

Now blind fear gripped me and I began writhing against my restraints. I cried out uselessly into the fabric stuffing my mouth. I felt something I'd never felt before then: utter powerlessness and utter terror.

As I struggled the touch between my legs stopped and strong hands landed firmly on my body. One hand pressed hard into my pubic bone forcing my hips down. The other wrapped around my throat. Heavy weight pinned me in place.

My heart raced with fear and a nauseous feeling swept through me.

The hand on my neck pressed down indiscriminately. This wasn't the feeling of a lover choking me for pleasure. No, this was the crushing force of someone who's hands could hurt me.

Lights started to cloud the dark field of my blindfolded vision. My head began to pound. First my lungs cried out for oxygen. Then my whole body began to throb. The muddy feeling of semi-consciousness I had just emerged from started to return and for one acute and terrible moment I believed, completely, that I was about to die.

And then, all at once, it stopped. The hands were gone. I choked down air around my gag and through my running nose. As I came back to myself I felt my eyes wet with tears and the ache in my head persisting.

Before I had fully caught my breath I felt a sharp slap across my face. The blow rattled my aching mind and body and brought more tears to my eyes.

Next, harsh slaps landed on my breasts one after the other. My body began to betray me again then. I felt my nipples tighten and start to get sensitive in the stinging moments after the first touch.

Spurred on, maybe, by my obvious and pitiful arousal, my captor continued his assault on my tits. He slapped my chest repeatedly until my skin was hot and raw and then he spit on me roughly, rubbing the saliva over my aching skin and pinching and pulling on my nipples as he did.

My body, tiring of the acute state of terror I'd been in, responded to the softer touch on my chest. A warm feeling spread through me as he massaged my chest.

My mind recoiled. I was disgusted at my body's positive response to this touch. And as I remembered the clutching hand on my throat I reminded myself that this situation was unimaginably dangerous. I didn't know where I was and I was powerless in the hands of a man who might yet mean to hurt me.

I couldn't give in to any feelings of arousal. I

wouldn't.

I was spared my fight to resist temptation as, with two final slaps across my chest, the man pulled his hands away.

For a few moments I couldn't feel or hear anything around me. Panic flared back up in my body then. This man could be anywhere around me planning to do anything.

Instinct drove me to squirm again. I pulled hard against my restraints trying wildly to somehow slip free. I felt the skin on my wrists and ankles wearing raw from the friction.

Eventually I tired myself out thrashing against the ropes. A feeling of resigned dread began to settle heavily in my bones. A new thought bubbled up in my mind:

trying to escape is futile. I've just got to do everything I can to survive this and hopefully eventually it will all be over.

I began to cry then in earnest. The horror of the situation had settled and there was nothing else to do. I did my best to be quiet as I sobbed, letting the tears pool noiselessly in my eyes and leak out from behind my blindfold.

As I lay there crying I felt a heavy weight settling near my shoulders. The feeling brought me back to my senses a bit and I tried to calm my breathing and quell my tears for whatever would come next.

I felt a softer slap on my cheek then.

His dick

, I realized.

He's slapping me in the face with his dick.

The horrible humiliation of that redoubled my anguish and a fresh round of sobs racked my body. He hit me in the face a few more times for good measure, proving his domination of me. Then he stopped.

I waited there in anticipation for what felt like a long time.

What was he waiting for?

I wondered angrily.

Was he listening to me cry?

And then finally, without warning, the cloth was pulled from between my teeth and he stuffed his long hard cock deep into my throat. The sensation sent a shock wave through my body and I gagged and spluttered around the hot flesh filling my mouth. He had my head tipped back to open my throat to him. In this position I still couldn't cry out.

For a moment the desire to bite down on his tender flesh filled my body. But a fear of how he might retaliate stopped me.

To my surprise my captor didn't begin to fuck my mouth. Rather he just stayed there, pushing as deep as he could into my throat, never letting up the pressure. Within a few moments it became excruciating. I tried to turn my head to get away from the intense, violating sensation but he held my jaw firmly in place with one hand.

Tears were still flowing from my eyes, now more so from the pain than anything. Shocking me yet again then, with his thick length still shoved into my mouth, he began to speak.

"Aw poor baby," he cooed, mocking me. "Does the crying mean you don't like it?"

His words sparked something in my mind. Dimly I felt the pull of recognition. Was it possible that I recognized that voice?

Wait,

I thought, my brain about to catch up,

is that --

He interrupted my thoughts saying, "You remember the safe word, don't you?" With dry, brutal sarcasm he drawled, "Just say Picadilly if you really want it to stop."

Reality crashed down around me then as my neighbor began to laugh, cruelly. He used our abandoned safe word from weeks ago to tell me who he was knowing full well that in this position I wouldn't be able to use it.

He continued with his taunting, "oh but I guess you can't really talk like this now can you?"

Competing sensations flared up in my body as he spoke. On the one hand: sublime relief. This wasn't some vicious stranger who'd kidnapped me to kill me. It was only the neighbor, probably thinking this was a nice escalation to his little game. On the other hand: indignant rage.

How dare he put me through something like this?!

The thought coursed through my veins and the urge to bite the cock between my teeth reared back up inside me.

But then, a third feeling made itself known. A familiar feeling. The sickly crawl of fear gripped me again. Maybe this wasn't just some game to my neighbor anymore. After all, I hardly knew the man. Maybe I'd gotten myself mixed up with some psychopath and delivered him to his final break. Maybe the situation was no less dangerous than before.

But no, I

had

gotten to know the neighbor, hadn't I? Not in the traditional way of course, but I had thought that last night as he left my apartment after delivering me through such exquisite pleasure that I had, in a very intimate and direct way, gotten to know a side of him.

My mind warred: I wanted to believe I could trust this man, despite everything about the circumstance. But all the same I had to ask myself,

could I? What, after all, did I really know about him?

These thoughts passed through me within seconds. Above me, with his hard flesh still stretching my lips and filling my mouth, he continued to speak.

"I've got you like this on purpose so you can't talk. I just want you to listen. Understood?"

He paused, as if expecting something from me, and with the little movement I could muster in this position I tried to nod my head.

"Good girl," he growled, pushing, impossibly, even deeper into my throat.

"Now," he mused, taking his time. "Where to begin?"

"I really have enjoyed our little games. It's been a pleasure to be your little plaything. And don't worry, I can be your plaything still. But it started to to occur to me somewhere along the way that I didn't have to let you have all the fun. That night that you lost yourself on my cock and came for me I realized that for all your tough displays you are, at heart, just a needy, horny, little slut. And there are lots of ways to get a slut off."

Here he paused with a soft groan and began to pull his cock back through my lips. He continued to speak then as he started to slowly fuck my mouth.

"So," he continued, "I decided to set up this little activity to show that we could play other games and still have fun. You will submit to me. You will pleasure me. And, I just know that, with time, you will enjoy it."

My mind rebelled against his words, indignation flaring in my chest.

How dare he call me a slut? How

dare

he say that I would enjoy this violation!

"Now, we can talk more later, but right now you're going to be good and make me come," he commanded his thrusts along my tongue growing faster.

My mind swirled through the intense sensation in my mouth. I was furious.

And

, I asked myself,

should I still be afraid?

His words hadn't implied that he planned to hurt me. Instead he'd taunted and goaded me. I had no control over whether he came from fucking my mouth but I resolved again not to let myself experience any pleasure. I hoped again that this would all be over soon.

Eventually my senses demanded my attention, distracting me from my thoughts. My neighbor's throbbing cock was still fucking my mouth and he was beginning to moan deeply into the feeling. These sounds were different from the whimpers I had heard when I'd toyed with him in the past. These were richer, deeper sounds of lust and desire.

Listening to him I felt my train of thought getting lost.

The fundamental desire to pleasure a wanting man bubbled up in my body. I tried to tamp it down but once I started to sink into the sensations at hand I became aware of more and more. I noticed the rich, musky smell of him, primal and almost overpowering. I noticed the wetness still present between my legs from him petting me earlier. And, in spite of myself, I began to imagine him touching me there.

On impulse, no longer thinking, I began to massage the rock hard cock thrusting into my mouth with my lips and tongue. It felt so natural once I started. It was a way to ground myself and release the pent up energy. After all, it was the only agency I had over my movements with the rest of my body restrained.

In response to my suckling he let out a deeper moan. The sound filled me with pride and want. I tried to recapture the thread of my indignant thoughts but I'd lost them. Instead, I let myself lean in.

I began to suck him off in earnest then, letting myself get lost in the activity. He stopped fucking my mouth and pulled back a bit to let me focus on him. I ran my tongue up and down his shaft. I suckled his swollen tip with my lips. I took his length into my mouth and massaged him with my cheeks.

His cock was familiar to me after all those nights teasing and torturing him. Even though I tried to ignore the feeling, I was overcome by a fondness for my neighbor's body.

My devout focus on him brought his moaning and breathing to a fever pitch.

He began to fuck my throat again, more urgently this time. I continued to play with him with my mouth as he pumped away and soon he sounded desperate, right on the edge.

I tried to tell myself that I didn't want to make him come. That I was still feeling violated and indignant about the situation. But as he erupted in my mouth, with hot jets of cum filling my throat and coating my tongue, I knew that I wanted it. In fact, I wanted more.

But now, evidently, wasn't the time. Instead, he pulled out of my mouth and climbed off of the bed. He let me swallow a few times and catch my breath before returning the gag to its place.

He bent over and kissed me once, softly, on the cheek, and bit me once, sharply, on a tender nipple.

Then, he walked away to some point where I couldn't hear him anymore.

At first I waited for him to come back, hoping he was just getting something to drink or using the bathroom. My body was humming with want. Unsatisfied need throbbed between my legs.

After several long minutes, the flush of desire began to seep out of my body to be replaced by a heady exhaustion. My mind drifted back to my thoughts from earlier. My justified rage. My fear. Even now I felt conflicted. I had been disrespected, no doubt. I had been drugged and restrained against my will. I knew it was something I should be horrified and disgusted by. And I was, wasn't I?

As sleepiness blurred the edges of my mind I found my traitorous thoughts wandering from the injustice of it all to a dark curiosity. At some deep level I craved to know,

what would he do next?

The last thing I remember thinking as I drifted off to sleep, restrained, gagged, blindfolded, and undeniably wet, was,

maybe I am just a horny, needy slut like he said...

***

I woke up crying out from a penetrating sensation between my legs. I shook my head to clear it and with a jolt I remembered where I was. With another jolt the neighbor thrust his hard cock deep into me again.

He was fucking me, I realized, deep and slow to start. I could feel the hot skin of his torso on mine and hear his breathing against my ear. The revelation of him so close made my waking body flush with shock and conflicted pleasure.