Alice had no idea how long she was hung from the ceiling. Time seemed to pass excruciatingly slow while she was up there. The stimulation in her pussy and her breasts made her body writhe in the tight bonds, but with Mr. Romero's warning ringing in her ears, she dared not move much, afraid that she would strain the safety mechanism which would break and lead to her definite death. She had guessed by now that Mr. Romero wouldn't kill her, at least not deliberately. He had made it clear he had more horrors in store for her, and his fun would come to an early end if Alice had died. Her mind understood this logic, but she had no control over her fear. Not when she was dangled over twenty-five feet from the ground, the only thing keeping her from falling was the mechanical arm which her safety belt was attached to. With each breath she drew in, she was incredibly away of the rough rope knotted around her neck. It was a vivid reminder of the threat which loomed over her.
From her vantage point, she could see doors opening and closing. Each time a group of thrill-seekers entered the mansion, she held herself as still as she could, pretending to be part of the backdrop in the mansion. She was able to catch snippets of conversations and the chorus of frightful screams when the spotlight shone brightly on her. Alice kept her eyes closed, afraid that in the few seconds of illumination, they would discover she was a real person and not a mannequin. She kept herself as still as possible, as quiet as she could, not wanting to draw any attention to herself. If it became known she was treated this way by Mr. Romero, a well-liked philanthropist in town who was known for orchestrating every year's Halloween festivities, she would be called a liar instantly. She could already imagine their judgmental glares whenever she saw anyone in her town. Despite what everyone said about it not being the fault of the rape victims, people still look at them and wondered what made them the target of the rapes, not knowing it wasn't the victims who was the deciding factor, but the rapists.
Out of all the women who came to the interview, Mr. Romero had decided on her to be his next prey. Alice wasn't sexually inexperienced; she had had sex with her boyfriend half a year ago, before he dumped her because she kept saying she was too busy to go out with him. It was Alice's fault that she wasn't able to go out because she had to look after her younger brother. Besides, she knew it was only an excuse. Two days after dumping her, he was seen seeing a cheerleader.
Mr. Romero's touch didn't feel like the clumsy fumbling of a teenager. He knew how to touch her to get her wet, and when he sucked on her nipples, it made her pussy ache to have something inside it. There was also the way he spoke to her, his authoritative voice sending shivers through her each time. If he hadn't been sucking on her breasts, her nipples would have stiffened into tight nubs just listening to him. It was part of her secret thrill in the last two weeks to be talking to him braless. She just didn't anticipate him to turn into a sexual predator and pounce on her.
It was inevitable that Alice was unable to keep her body still as the vibrations worked tirelessly on her bound body, churning away on her most sensitive areas. Her body had never been exposed to so much stimulation before. The twin dildos in her groin made her feel full. Her ass, which was still a virgin, had accepted the dildo quicker than she expected. She only needed to get over the emotional barrier that screamed it wasn't right to have her ass violated like this, accept that there was nothing she could do than to take the abuse going on right now, and she was soon able to experience what her curiosity could never indulge. She had heard that it felt as good to be fucked in the ass as it was in the pussy, but one thing she could confirm: it felt way naughtier. When she tensed, she could feel both the unyielding objects inside her, their vibrations persistently and ceaselessly demonstrating just how good it felt to be stuffed in both holes. Aided by the devices on her nipples and clit, it was only a matter of time before Alice gave in to the inevitable and orgasmed.
It was akin to opening a floodgate of pleasure. Her next orgasm struck within a few minutes, and the next even shorter. She had yet to come down from one climax before she was hoisted over another peak. Alice was like a sailor cast overboard into the wild ocean. There was no way for her to control the waves of ecstasy. Her body behaved likewise. Her hips gyrated in the air as much as she could, humping against an invisible cock while she was dangled in mid-air. Her body trembled, waves of sweat pouring from her. Her nails dug into the fleshy palms, forming deep red crescent marks. When she came, her body shuddered violently. Her mouth fell open, her legs twitched. The mechanism she was hanging from creaked dangerously. Her stomach curled in fear, but it was that fear which sent her orgasm spiraling even higher each time. Her underwear was utterly soaked. She could feel her juices dripping down her legs and it humiliated her that a couple of devices were able to transform her into such a wonton slut. She shouldn't be able to perform like this for her abuser. Mr. Romero must be watching from somewhere, making sure she behaved the way he anticipated.
Time continued ticking. Behind the deliberate state of blindness she maintained, she still tried to hide her disheveled state from the visitors. But the devices slowly eroded her will and her control. Her movements became more obvious. When the light struck her, she jerked as though she was physically struck. She heard comments about the odd mannequin, that it might need fixing, heard them walking closer below her. She had a sudden image of them slipping on the expensive wood flooring wet with her juices, and their subsequent discovery that she wasn't a mannequin at all. Thankfully, they were ushered away into the next door before they could get a closer look.
When Mr. Romero pulled the mechanism in, she was hanging limply, like a broken doll.
"You've really been enjoying yourself, Alice, more than I expected." Mr. Romero mused, pushing back her perspiration drenched hair. He lifted up her dress and touched her crotch, deftly locating the bases of the twin dildos inside her. Through the thin material of her panty, he pushed them in deeper into her. Alice cried out, her hip jerking rhythmically as she orgasmed again.
When she caught her breath and saw Mr. Romero standing before her, she glared fiercely at him, her struggles renewing. "Please, stop. That's enough, Mr. Romero. You've had your fun. Let me go right this instant."
There was still some fire in her. Good. He wanted to watch her break down slowly. Mr. Romero smiled. He wanted to be the one breaking her. "Not yet, sweet Alice. That's only the start."
But before he continued with the rest of the 'experiences' he had planned out for her, Darren Romero wanted a taste of her. He wanted some of the wet hot pussy that was being occupied by the dildos, while there was still some life in her.
He removed the noose from her neck and took off her dress, throwing it to the side carelessly until all she wore was her high heels and her pearl jewelry. He cast the vibrators on her nipples aside, wanting to see her bare breasts. The underwear was removed from her too. He touched her between her legs, heard her moan when he ran his fingers and pulled on her highly sensitive labia. He pulled the dildos slowly, noting how her body acquiesced reluctantly. His cock was hard, pushing against his pants. He sank in two fingers into her pussy. She felt more open and way wetter than she was just now. He pumped it a few times until her hips was rising again. Even as her body shook with pleasure, she was shaking her head as though trying to deny what was happening to her. He removed his fingers and sought out her asshole. Unlike an hour ago, her asshole swallowed his digits easily.
Darren Romero leaned over the girl. He kissed her gently on her face before replacing the noose over her neck. Alice tried wriggling away, but she didn't get far.
"Why, Mr. Romero? Why are you doing this to me? Haven't you done enough?" she pleaded.
Why? Darren Romero didn't answer, because he had no interest in sharing his twisted psyche with her. Not when all he wanted was to fuck her. He tightened the noose around her vulnerable neck until she was having difficulty breathing. Not enough to kill. She could only draw shallow breaths, if she wasn't struggling too much.
