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The Creature

Bizarre
2006-09-20

A blind fold slips over you eyes. Tightend in place, you cannot see. In an instant the handcuffs are around your wrists and your arms are pulled upward by a rope that rises to some unseen attachment above you. A moment later you are streached to your fullest and have had to rise up to your toes --- calfs, thighs and ass flexed in lovely, round knots of tight muscle. Then there is nothing. The darkness is complete. There is no touch. No sound. No smell. Not even a movement of the night air about you. Except that. . . very, very near you can sense, rather than hear, . . .

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  quiet breathing. Deep and slow, as if by some creature taking in your scent with each breath: Tasting the night air, the air that surrounds you. Tasting you.
The creature knows that all your senses reach out. Search the darkness. But there is nothing except this faint sound of breathing. Then you feel it. You feel the breath, ever so lightly, first at your neck on one side, then the other; next at your arm pits and then down below your hips, behind and in front. It lingers there. . . Breathing shallower and faster, It's excitement building. Now you feel the first touch. . .

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You flinche and asks the creature to stop. You feels blood run down your arms from where you had been trying to break free. You start panicing more and scream once again, trying to get the creature to turn away but you have no such luck.
He laughs softly at your request. A long thick, rough tongue licks slowly up your bloody arm. It seems almost to wrap completely around your wrist and then caress your palm. Then he releases you and after a moment you can tell that the creature is crouching in front of you. You feel the fingers of hands on either side of your hips. They slide down your legs, grasp the hem of your dress and push it up sharply to your waist.
You bite down on your lower lip until you taste blood. You feels tears run down your cheek, that the blind fold didn't soak up. You try not to say anything and you attempt to remain calm. You feels his breath on your leg and you bite down on your lip harder.
You feel the breath of the snuffling creature on your thighs just where they join with your torso. It is taking your scent: Judging and knowing the state of your mind, your fears, your desires without so much as a word, a sound, from you.

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  Now you hear one long, soft, low moan as a finger touches your panties just on the small wet spot that has formed on them. It is only the lightest of touches. Not a caress, but only a clear acknowledgement between the two of you. It knows.
You ask it quietly to leave you alone and you try to push your legs together. But have no luck, do to the chains being too tight to barely move. You lean your head aganist one of your arms.  You try to get the blind fold off but, it's tied too tight.
He feel your straining to bring your legs together and smiles to himself at your destress over such trifflings. You may beg me if you like. Perhaps I will have some pity on you then. . . The Creature whispers. Again he is kneeling in front of you.

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  . . The same unseen hands next take the band of your panties, but much more delicately than the dress, and begin to draw them off of you, slooooooowly. . . as if unwrapping a delicate treasure. You feel the elastic streach over your full, round, flexed ass. You feel the string pull from your crotch. You feel the flimsy garmet drawn down your legs to the floor. Such a delicate covering. . . (No protection at all, really,except for your modesty) . . .

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  and now even that is gone.
Your legs are in tight knots and beginning to tremble a little when first one foot and then the other is lifted to remove your panties. The second foot lifted is returned to the floor far opened from the the first. . . Twice your shoulder's width apart. Your ankles are attached to restraints so they cannot be brought together again. You must streach and flex your legs even farther to remain standing. There is a fine, consant trembling now in your whole body. Partly from exhaustion, partly from fear. Mostly from excitement. It stands, walks behind you, and matter-of-factly unclaspes the closures of your dress. The shoulder straps are unceremoniously ripped apart. The dress drops to the floor. A renewed sense of panic grips you when you realize that you are now stripped naked.

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You scream for him to let you go. But he only laughs.
"No, of course I won't let you go. I have not even tasted you a little yet. . . "Tied hand and foot, this Being has complete access to your body. It can toy with you in any way he (or she) pleases. . . and It does. Taking It's pleasure, first here and then there. In no hurry, it relishes each new defilement that comes to It's mind. It plays, inspects, manipulates. .

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  . discovering (and remembering) sensativities you never knew you had. Forming a sensory map of your body ---that fleshy instrument which It will begin to play, in ernest, very soon. The next touches are light caresses. Not so much exploringyour body any longer as confirming it's substance. The suppleness of the arms, the length of the torso, the strength of the back, the weight of the breasts, the fullness of the hips, the structure of the legs. These touches make you squirm from ticklishness. Unable to control it, as the fingers travel lightly over your entire body, first you pull this way, then that. You push, and pull, and jerk and turn and twist but there is no escape. You draw away from one torment only to find that you are pressing your body into the creature's grasp for another. Finally, undone by these sensastions you let out your first (but only your first) REAL cry:"Oh, please. Please! No. NO!". . .

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  It laughs. . . . A quiet laugh. . . A laugh of lust and pleasure in your tragedy.
You quietly ask The Creature to take of your blind fold.
"As you wish. . . I shall enjoy seeing the panic in your eyes now when I begin to use your body. . .

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  "The blind fold is pulled from your eyes. Much of the day has passed and in the early evening dusk you see only the shadowly outline of a dark figure approach you again. He tastes and explores, teases, every part of you except your breasts and cunt. Those, now throbing and aching for touch, go without. Everywhere else His teeth, tongue, lips. . . play, question, demand and take of your flesh anything and everything He wants. . . . And He wants a great deal. He stops and watches your eyes now and then as He toys with your body. . .

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  Tortures and delights you had never dreamed of are played with delightful abandon. Your body, racked and writhing with pain one moment, you bloom into exstatic convulsions of pain the next. You laugh, you scream, you cry, you beg for mercy but nothing matters. He continues the slow, thurough discovery and detailed violation of all your secret places until sweat runs off you and your whole body trembles. Now he looks in your eyes, smiles once more, and kneelsbefore you:He seperates and spreads the lips of your cunt by his thumbs at either side.
In your desperation you had forgotten your sweet, soft, delicate cunt. The lips are engourged with blood, thick and swollen. The juices of your excitement and growing lust run down your inner thighs. In this conditonwhen His lips and tongue suddenly envelope your exposed clitoris. . . you are finally, and completely, undone. NOW your tears flow. Freely. And you begin to weep, uncontrolled.

 

  His lips work your clit with a chaos of slow movements which your mind cannot follow: the mouth massaging, coaxing, sucking, tugging. . . all together while the tongue, that most sensative of torture devises, flicks repeatedly across the tip. First lightly and rapidly, then with strokes so slow and heavy it seems your life will end before they do. You have no more shame. You beg without restraint, without conscience, for release, for relief of any kind.
You scream but the scream turns into a soft moan.
Your eyes fly open as you relize what you just did. Now instead of screaming because you're scared, you now scream because you're enjoying it. Every movement and feeling. You bite the inside of your cheeks to hold back more moans and screams.
You are now this creature's slut. Your morals are undone. You will give anything.

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   Anything and give it freely!. . . You fuck like an animal: Cunt, asshole, mouth. . . filling them all. Your hips thrust forward in an urgent rhythm, your cunt contracts, aches, throbs for more and, from the very farthest reaches of your conscious mind, whispers of, "Please, don't let it ever stop. . . . "In a moment, as though having heard this thought, this supplication the Being has risen in front of you, taken you in His arms and kisses you deeply again. . . Kisses His way down to your breasts where the nipples are hard and aching and waiting.

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Then his breath, his mouth, his heat surrounds them: sucking and nibbling, first one then the other, back and forth, until the tiny electric shocks that race to your cunt make your legs begin to buckle. You hang limp in your ropes, but He continues. Delirium overtakes you. . . He returns to your spread legs. Two fingers find your swollen hole and enter you hard and deep. You groan. He thrusts again. You grunt and push backHe thrusts yet again. . . Harder, deeper. And again. And again.

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   And again. . .
To be continued. . .
.

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Read The Creature to enjoy enticing twists from our creative writers

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