A Very Long Night

The patch of light I stared at was so hot and white it hurt my eyes. Perfect. I stared and blazed all my attention at it. I spread myself thin and hard as the wide planks I lay on, spread wide and smacked down so often that now I clung to the flat boards as best I could, though they seemed to rock and sway like the hull of a vast ship. The walls rolled up and away from the stained old pine. They seemed thin and flimsy, like they might clatter and retreat, snap and curl tight like a yanked-on paper shade.

Every sound is approaching steps, until proven otherwise. All my cells listening so hard. My cunt was so large and swollen that I couldn't have closed my legs, even if I'd been free to . My limbs felt weak, flung around clumsily like a doll tossed in the closet. Yes, I laughed. Mouth so dry. Exactly like a doll, pliant and blank no matter what. A soft thing, obedient and flung. Discarded, then snatched violently up again, passionately missed. Wanted and wanted now, all the way in.

When I swallow the bruises of my choked throat sing silently. I imagine a mirror would show me blooms of purple and black ringing my neck , jewelry made of blood. The prairie outside seems to heave and suck, a hot dry hell, roaring. My mind rolls away into the corner. I remember.

I remember darkness, the crushed tomato leaves and dirt smell of my garden ground into my hands and knees. I had been weeding in the small hours of the morning, in the only breath of cool the day provided. The moon had been bright so I'd padded out barefoot through the yard without bothering to flip the porch light on. I loved these full moon nights out in the country. In the hot summer night alone at the middle of my five acres I felt so free. A warm breeze teased my flesh through the old yellow cotton slip I'd thrown on. On my hands and knees, burying my fingers in the moist dirt, I sighed a big sigh, pushed out a deep breath and closed my eyes. I felt my hair stir, and those last seconds when I figured it to be a breeze are all that are left of the old life.

The breeze grew thick, cruel fingers that yanked and twisted in my hair, jerking my head back so that the moon blinded me. My eyes rolled in terror, clattering around in my head, trying to land on anything, snag on some kind of sense. I gagged as a second hand grabbed my exposed throat, squeezing til my eyes swam with tears. And then I made out his shape. The moon shining from behind him blacked out all his features, so the solid shape of him was all I could see. I felt myself jerked around by my hair, that hard hand never leaving my throat. I heard a whoosh of breeze an instant before the slap rang out on my cheek, stunning me blind for the instant it took him to get his cock out. As my vision cleared I could see him grasp it in his fist, squeezing and stroking it an inch from my face. My choked-off whimpers must have breathed heat onto him, because he hissed deep in his throat, bringing it closer. A ripe, musky scent filled my nostrils. A smell of fallen fruit, of lusty rot. old books with baked dry pages. He traced my lips with the hot head of his dick. The skin was taut, blood beating hard underneath. He gathered my hair in his hand again, almost gently this time. Then with one quick motion he yanked my head back and rammed his cock all the way to the back of my throat. I gagged and cried around the thick meat as it pummeled my throat. Tears and snot ran from my face as he fucked it. I moaned raggedly whenever I got some air, but I was always sorry, because it seemed to excite him more. When he heard my voice he'd suck in his breath quick, then pound my face harder than ever.

My hips and ass wriggled in the air as I struggled on my knees to take what he gave me. Maybe, maybe I thought, he'll take what he wants and then leave. I could bear to think nothing else. As quickly as it had started, he pulled out and stood, panting. His hand never left my hair. I stared past him, into the night. Afraid to see his face. My heart pounded heavily, crazily. And then he did an awful thing.

Reaching his long fingers between my thighs, he traced the swollen slit he found there. Just a fingertip, back, then forth, for what seemed like an eternity. He chuckled low in his throat, a wet, grating sound.

"Cunt,' he hissed. The first words I heard him speak. "I know what you are." He yanked then on my pubic hair, a quick vicious tug that made light explode behind my eyes. I yelped with the pain, outraged suddenly. Before I could suck in a breath and scream, he slipped two fingers deep into my cunt. They slid in with no resistance. I was shocked, frozen there on my knees. He laughed again, pumping three, then four fingers roughly into me. I moaned, my hips bucking against his hand. I couldn't stop them. I wet him up to the wrist before I could get ahold of myself.

"Please," I choked. "Please don't. I'll scream!" He laughed, amused.

"Oh, yeah," he breathed," you will. I like that," He snickered. "Gets me all the harder. Scream for me, you little cunt. I want you to." I bit my lips, furious.

He drew his belt out of his pants that were crumpled there on the dirt. He wound it slowly, methodically around his fist, leaving only the buckle gleaming in the moonlight. He ran it slowly down the trembling curve of my spine, over my ass, and through my slit. He unwound a small tongue of belt, slapping my cunt lightly with it. Even I could hear the wet sound it made, and burned with shame. He rutted the belt deep into the furrows of my swollen lips, wetting it completely. I sobbed, burying my face in the grass. I guessed what was coming. He kicked my legs open wide, splayed painfully out. He ran his hand lightly over the white, full half moons of my ass. And then he began to beat me. He whipped my ass with the wet strap. First methodically, then wildly, landing blows on my asshole and cunt lips, which quivered in response. I screamed then, raggedly and loudly and he laughed, a rough, delighted roar. The sound made my skin crawl.

"You know why it hurts," he gloated in a low growl. I shook my head furiously, making him laugh again. "The belt is wet with your juices, you slut. You're enjoying this. You want this. I'm going to break you and make you beg for my cock. " I wailed for a second into the night before I felt his finger s crammed into my mouth. He dropped the belt and worked his other hand deep inside me. I was slick inside, almost swallowing his fingers. "This...this is the mouth I'm going to fuck next, " he growled. "Because it can't bite, and it can't lie."

He pulled his fingers from my mouth to lay a ringing slap across one cheek, then the other. Then his big hand pressed itself over my nose and mouth, harder and harder still till my eyes swam and the world collapsed completely.

Coming out of the blackout was slow. I could only lift my eyelids for a second at a time. My mouth was dry and I struggled to swallow. It was darker than before. I smelled old wood and the light, perfumed mildew that settles on forgotten fabric. I knew where I was and wanted to scream. In my own attic, the one part of the house I never entered. It scared me with its emptiness, the cracked window glass and discarded refuse of generations. When I bought the place I came up once during the day, and although the tall windows flooded the room with light I felt dizzy with vertigo. I had backed away, shutting the trap door behind me with a hard tug. And pretty much ignored the fact of that room from then on.

I could feel the soft, dusty arm of the old couch pressing into the skin of my back. My arms stretched painfully above my head, secured by some kind of fabric. My legs were spread wide, ankles secured to the curved wooden legs of the couch. My ass rested on the other arm. I could feel how taut my cunt was being stretched. I looked wildly around, fully conscious now. My slip had been pushed up over my hips, and I squirmed with the humiliation of laying there so open, so exposed. I squirmed as hard as I could, choking off a whimper as the bonds cut into me. A small spark exploded at the corner of my vision. I froze. He'd been standing out of my line of sight, waiting quietly as a dressmaker's dummy, a pile of ski poles, just another shadowy object in the crowded, silent room. I could hear the small sizzle as the flame met the end of his cigarette. He inhaled deeply, held it, and let it go. The smoke wandered towards me, a blue haze in the moonlight. He smoked the cigarette down to the filter, there at the corner of my eyes. Waiting for something.

He walked fully into my sight. I still had never really seen his face. I didn't want to now, but he jerked my chin up with his hand and stared into me. I felt my stomach churn and my bowels loosen with fear, because when he locked his eyes on mine I saw no excitement, no high waver of arousal or anticipation. I saw cold delight. I saw the spiders gaze of lazy hunger, calm examination of the trussed, juicy fly. I saw all the time in the world. I registered his tall, thick body, shirtless and pale, and his half-zipped jeans. I registered the belt hanging loosely, almost casually from his hand. But all this only in brief, pulsing seconds. I kept getting sucked back into those eyes, magnetized, metallic saliva filling my mouth.

He never wavered. He struck so hard and fast that I could only see it later, played back in my mind. The quick stride across the room, the black arc of the belt through the air. The crack of fire that shattered across one thigh, then the other, back and forth in a flurry of blows. I screamed and thrashed in small desperate jerks, still bound tightly. My struggling lifted my cunt into the path of the belt so that the next blow landed squarely on my wide-spread lips, fat and heavy with blood. I stopped all motion, all breathing, shocked.

Time froze and my skin broke out in a cold, clammy sweat. He stepped back to admire his work. The cruel marks his blows had made rising to the surface of my pale flesh like dark fish floating up from the deeps of a cold pond. His hands traced the swells of my breasts as they heaved with my ragged breathing. He grasped my nipples and gave them each a vicious twist, then grabbed the soft, worn fabric of my slip at the neckline and ripped. The cloth gave easily, as he tore it all away, every shred, until finally I lay bare, completely naked for the first time since it all began. My nipples were still ringing from the harsh grasp of his fingers, and they cringed away from his hands as he brought his rough palms up under my small, firm breasts and began to squeeze and twist them, kneading them roughly up and down, pushing them together, raking his nails into the sides, digging them in, dragging them slowly. He pinched tiny folds of flesh, twisting and pulling as I arched and cried. Fat, salty tears had begun to roll down my cheeks as I panted, silently. My will was dissolving. I could only respond, submit.

He was crouched over me, a dark shape big as the night itself. He started to use his mouth, his teeth, sucking in mouthfuls of my flesh; my neck, my chest, the exposed, tender skin on the insides of my arms. He chewed me, nipped at me, worrying at me like a predator gone hungry too long. Ravenous, angry. Every inch of my skin blazed, alive, my nerve endings roaring. As his hands roamed and twisted they found the flesh of my ass and began to pinch and tear at the soft, yielding roundness. One of his knees wedged between my legs, and I could feel the rough fabric of his jeans against my cunt. As his knee and thigh ground against me, my hips started to roll. My clit began the slow burn I knew so well, a musky, smoldering fuse. I was dizzy with confusion, the same vertigo I had felt my first time up in that attic so long ago. My brain jammed and sputtered as the strangeness rolled over me in a black, pounding wave. He noticed the movement of my hips and pulled away abruptly. When he spoke his voice was oily, slick with triumph. "So.'

That was all he said, but that was all he needed to say for my throat to go thick, all my blood rush to my face. My bruised thighs twitched as he traced the welts that striped them in jagged patterns. My cunt clenched and cringed away from his hand, but it was useless, all useless. I turned my head so as not to see the look in his eyes when he found my dripping, swollen shame. He made a sound almost like a sigh, shockingly soft. Then he jerked my hair, forcing me to look at him. He held up his fingers so close to my eyes that I could see the thick moisture that coated them. He fisted my hair in one hand, drew back the other and slapped me, smacking my arousal into my face, wetly, inexorably. The punishing, vicious blows seemed to go on forever, and I could feel my lip swell and split. I licked softly at the drop of blood I found there as he stepped back and unzipped his jeans.

His cock blazed hard and straight against his belly. He held it in his fist, stroking the head with light, short movements. He came at me slowly, his cock bobbing in front of him. My whole body was taut, a violin string twisted, trembling, about to snap. He eased between my spread legs. Taking his time. I wanted to weep, to beg, to just get it over with, just ram it into me and be done, how long could it take? If it was over fast I would bear it somehow. His long, cruelly precise fingers found my clit, parting my folds until they touched it. He brought his cock up to my opening and I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for him to rip into me, for the thrust that would cleave me in half.

It didn't come. Something worse did. He dragged the heavy head of his dick through my soaked furrow, back and forth, brushing over my clit with slick pressure, over and over until I wanted to scream. Unconsciously my hips began to lift, to meet his strokes, to finish it. He stepped back suddenly, leaving my hips rolling against the empty air. He reached for his pants where they lay on the dusty boards and pulled out something small and heavy. He held it in both hands and in one smooth motion unfolded a knife with a heavy, curving blade. I choked up with terror and my whole body started to shake. He came to me and started to trace the point of the blade up and down the curve of my throat. I couldn't move, didn't want to swallow. I would drown in my own saliva. A small trickle ran out of the corner of my mouth. He drew his hand back, and this time the knife's edge found my inner thigh. It moved slowly, slowly down my leg til it came to my ankle, where it was tied. He worked at my bond, slowly, methodically, til the fabric gave way and my ankle swung free. He quickly cut the other one loose, and blood rushed painfully back into my feet. I flexed my toes and they tingled with shock.

He started to whisper to me then, and I strained to hear the harsh scrape of his voice.

"Remember what I told you," he hissed softly. " I told you I would break you. And I keep my word. And I told you I'd make you beg for this cock." He smiled then, an awful sight. "I've cut your legs free. Now I'm going to untie your hands. And you're still going to take it." I stared, dumbstruck. Was he mad? I shivered. "You don't believe me, cunt? Let me tell you. You're going to lie there. You're going to spread your own legs wide. And you're going to ask for it. You're going to beg for it. And if I think you really mean it, I'll give you what you're asking for. I know it's big. It's going to hurt, maybe a lot. You can scream all you want when I ram it into you, into that tight little pussy. I want you to. "

Abruptly he reached for my wrists and began to cut the fabric away. My arms dropped to my sides, leaden, numb. As the blood rushed back into them I shuddered. He just stood there. That spider's smirk. All the time in the world. My limbs felt leaden, separate from my stinging, pulsing breasts, my slick, painfully engorged cunt. I breathed deeply. My throat was dry. He knelt before me as he had before, and started to rub his cock over my clit again, lightly, torturously. I finally found my voice.

"You're crazy," I whispered raggedly. He was silent. "I don't want this," I insisted. He kept stroking. "I want you to go, you evil bastard, you son of a bitch." Here he laughed.

"Why don't you fight? I untied you. You seem strong enough. Who knows, you might even win." I stared, furious. My skin prickled, my limbs trembled, traitorously aroused. "You want it," he whispered. "Say it. I can feel you close to coming already." I shook my head violently, but my hands rested limply, helplessly at my sides. I couldn't seem to move. "I'm going to make you come. If you don't want this, if you really want me to go, you won't come. Your cunt tells the truth. It wants me. It wants to be fucked, fucked hard, filled and pounded. But show me you don't want it and I'll go. Just don't come. Don't come."

Each time he whispered "Don't come," it sent a shock wave through me. All the tension and the fear and the stimulation gathered into one pulsing knot at my core. The head of his cock struck my desperate, humming clit again and again. I fought it, squeezing my muscles against it, but that only made it worse. I squeezed my eyes so tight I saw stars. Then I felt his hand clamp over my mouth, felt his teeth nip at my neck, and all those stars exploded. The orgasm ripped through me, a ball of cold electric fire. A harsh yell erupted from deep in my throat, ringing against his palm. My battered body vibrated, a struck bell.

He held still, feeling my cunt gush and throb against him. "Say it," he whispered, "tell me. Beg me." The words leapt out of my throat, shocking me as they poured into his ears.

"Oh. I—I---I need this. Fuck me. Rip me apart. Ram it into me, I want to feel you so deep your cock comes out of my throat. I want you to destroy me with it. Fuck me hard, hard as you can. Oh, God, don't make me wait. " I was babbling, out of control. He gave a harsh bark, then a low chuckle of triumph. He bared his teeth, and a growl rolled out of his throat. I quailed then, shocked. I realized he had been holding back too, tightly controlled all along. It was too late now.

He pulled me to him in one huge motion, down onto the floor, flipping me over onto my knees. Without ceremony he kicked my leg apart and impaled me on his thick cock. He rutted me, slammed into my grasping cunt, his fingers prying my ass cheeks apart. He held my ass tightly as he rammed into me harder, harder, till my head swam. He fucked me, fucked me dizzy. I had grabbed the edge of the couch for support, and when he grabbed my arms and twisted them behind my back I fell hard onto the rough floorboards. I cried out as he rode me up and down the attic floor, yanking my hair back, exposing my throat.

He groaned through his clenched jaw. He muttered low and fast, "Take it, take it, you cunt. You wanted this. You love this." He spat into his hand and rubbed his spit deeply into my asshole. I screamed, tensing with fear. He hissed in my ear, "Don't fight this, don't fight me. You want to get fucked, you're going to get fucked. I say how, I say when." He worked his thumb up into me, pushing past the ring of flesh that resisted him, breaking through into my dark passageway. I squirmed helplessly, writhing with humiliation as he worked his finger in and out, loosening me.

He spat again, this time directly onto me. I felt the hot ooze of his spit as it dripped into my ass crack. He yanked his thumb free, uncorking me. A ripe, earthy scent rose in the air, and I buried my face in the crook of my arm, blanking my mind out, dreading what came next. It came excruciatingly slowly, almost gently at first. He eased the fat head of his cock through my tight, resistant asshole, sucking in his breath as it popped through. Millimeter by millimeter, he tunneled into me. I moaned softly, unable to believe the sensation. A fine, light sweat broke out all over my body as I tried to hold perfectly still. Deeper and deeper he went. The pressure built and built until I could feel it in my cunt, too. Involuntarily, almost unconsciously, my hand found my own wetness. I slid a finger in, and was shocked at how clearly I could feel his cock through the thinnest membrane of flesh. Hesitantly I pressed against it. He gasped, and knocked my hand away. He grabbed me by the hair and pulled my head back until his mouth rested against my ear. "Trying to finish me off? We're not finished here." His hot breath blew through my mind like a scouring desert wind as I shook my head, helpless to explain.