Are We Human? Ch. 05

"Ple-ease don't hurt yo-your li-little bunny," he begged.

The evil in her gaze was impossibly black. She pushed it down into his vision until he was blind to everything spare for the bottomless abyss of her wrath. He felt himself swarmed with her hatred, helplessly drowning within it.

Her voice was slow and eerily level when she informed him, "you... are not... groveling... your way out of this."

She stood up and walked over to her bed.

"You wanted my attention so badly? Well now you've got it. You have my full fucking undivided attention, bitch."

She slid her hand beneath the mattress and pulled out a black strap. There was another strap attached at the end, curved into a loose circle and locked with a buckle. She undid the buckle to open it fully. Drew watched her repeat this three more times, at the four corners of her bed.

Restraints. One for each limb.

"Strip."

It was doomsday inside of his head, but one couldn't tell that from looking at him. Drew's body had distanced itself from the calamity of his brain, and the moment that single word was spoken, he was tearing his clothes off like they had burst into flames. Obedience overpowered fear, and the tremble in his hands did not stop him from slipping out of his vest, maneuvering out of his button-down shirt, and worming out of his pants. Off came the socks, down came the underwear without question. When he reached for the rabbit ears, however, Lady Sparrow put her hand up.

"No no, you're keeping that part of the costume on. The ears stay, the watch stays. Now pray I don't safety pin the tail to your asscheek."

She snapped her fingers and pointed to the bed. The rational part of him watched paralyzed as his body listened and sprawled itself out on the mattress. Alice climbed atop the naked White Rabbit and got to work fastening him to her bed. The cuffs were pulled tight around his wrists and ankles, each buckle locked in place and each strap shortened as close to the bed as possible. Drew tried to raise his arms and legs, and primal adrenaline flooded his veins when he realized how trapped he truly was. Lady Sparrow straddled his bare hips and leaned into his face, keeping herself just out of the reach of his yearning mouth.

"Tell me, slave boy: was this what you had in mind when you were showing off out there? Did you have anything in mind, or were you just listening to that worthless dick of yours?"

His restricted mobility made him hypersensitive to even the smallest of stimuli, which included the minute rocking of his mistress's hips against his cock. She was barely touching him, barely moving at all, but he swelled anyway and quickly rose up to meet her. It made her snicker in a muted way, indicating that her cool was returning to her. Her troublesome whore could only get under her skin for so long before she plucked him out and set him back in his place. Here he was, helpless and desperate, and here she was, comfortable on the throne. Proper order had been restored and all was right with the world.

The frilly white thong rolled down her white stockings and then dangled at the tip of her finger. Back and forth, back and forth, more hypnotic than any pocket watch. Lady Sparrow pinched the bunny's nose until he gaped his mouth, then forced her wet underwear inside. He could taste her, so delicious even soaked into the fabric. She hiked up her dress and let him watch her fingers stroke her lips and swirl around her clit. Every time she cooed with pleasure, her sub spat a muffled plea.

"Enjoy that little taste, bunny. It's all you're gonna get for the rest of the night."

She inched her way down his body to the edge of the bed. Her eyes drilled into his as she lowered closer and closer toward his upright cock. He was writhing, rebelling pitifully against his unrelenting restraints.

"As for me, I'm gonna get to taste you all I want."

Her nails trickled up and down his sides while her tongue hovered an atom's distance away from his throbbing head. Every time he tried to raise his hips to touch her, she would dodge him, moving to the side or lifting up beyond his reach.

"I don't think so, slut," she laughed. "Either you keep that ass on the bed and let Mistress have her fun, or..."

Her hand clamped hard and sudden around his balls. Her laughter rotted into a scowl as she regarded the gagged, screaming, convulsing slave with disdain. His hypersensitivity made this crushing pain unbearable, and she knew it. Once she released his testicles from her grip and permitted him to flop weakly back to the bed, the humor returned to her face. His ass would stay right where it was, his cock stalwart and stationary for her.

She pursed her mouth around the head and drank in the grateful sigh of her pet. Her kisses opened and closed faintly, waking his thousands of nerves to her presence. Drew's breathing was already turning deeper, vocal yet stifled through the damp underwear wadded between his jaws. He felt the dire need to thrust his cock upward and feel it warm and snug in her throat, but her warning had petrified his muscles, leaving him with nothing but a futile hope that she wouldn't make him wait for the satisfaction he desired.

But she would, of course. When she took his solid member in her hand, she held him with a ghost of a grasp and stroked idly. Drew wanted it fast and hard and wet, but that was of no concern to Lady Sparrow. When her tongue traveled up the length of his cock and twirled around his head, it wasn't to please him; it was to make him think about what it would feel like to have more. What would it feel like if her teasing at the tip turned into a trip down her throat? What if she bobbed up and down to stroke his inches with her thin lips? What if she hummed and sucked on his head while her hand pumped his slick shaft in rapid pace?

Her pace never turned rapid. Drew never felt himself sliding down her throat. All he got was ghostly rubbing and long, deliberate licks up and around his cock. In truth, this was more than he deserved, but it wasn't enough for him. Obviously, it wasn't; that was the punishment. Lady Sparrow wanted to play tonight, and when her favorite toy was standing at the ready for her and its stupid attachment was incapable of physical or even verbal resistance, there was no better opportunity for it. Each time another whine failed to break through the barrier, she would snicker to herself and stare into his pleading eyes for another long lick.

It felt like hours to Drew. The sensations whetted his appetite but failed miserably to satiate it. How much longer could she keep this up? His lust for her had been burning since she took him to the dance floor, and now he was so close to feeling that lust quelled in her beautiful, unmatched talents. So close, but so far away, kept at a distance from his pleasure. A dog on a leash tied to a post, pulling and tugging and chewing to get free. Lady Sparrow's tongue trailed up and down without a care in the world, as if it couldn't hear the screaming in the bunny's head.

She released him abruptly. Somehow, the hopeless eyes grew even more forlorn as he watched her raise from his hips and sit upright, staring down her nose at his pitiful form. Then she began to crawl. Her hands pressed into the plush mattress and carried her back up the boy's body until she was face to face with him, the opening of her dress forming a canopy over his waist. She glowered at him again, making him turn his head and shut his eyes to try to get the vision of her loathing out of his sight. He looked back when he heard the drawer on the bedside desk slam closed; when he saw the foil square she held in her hand, Drew's eyes jumped out of their sockets.

She asked in a smooth cadence, "how badly does bunny wanna fuck his queen?"

He nodded hard enough to break his neck. It had been so long since he had ever even considered the opportunity, back when he thought he might be equal to this woman, to this goddess among men. His unworthiness was apparent to him now, drilled into him after several sessions of degradation and torment. He was thankful to put a finger on her; permitting his meager cock entrance into her most miraculous of spaces should be out of the question. And yet, here his goddess was, asking him the question.

Incoherent ramblings fell against his gag as Lady Sparrow split open the wrapper and removed the condom. She rose slightly from his waist so she could take his dick in her hands once more and roll the latex down his rigid flesh. Still maintaining her grip, she slid the head of it against her wet vulva, grinding her clit against his erection. Her moans were loud, overly dramatic like the guests at her party.

She stopped. Her forehead scrunched, the gears in her head starting to turn. Suddenly, she let go of his cock again and grabbed his pocket watch. She clicked it open, and a disingenuous expression of shock came across her face.

"Oh, well would you look at the time! I'm late," she exclaimed.

She smirked down at the White Rabbit and savored the dying hope in his eyes. She tapped him on his pink nose.

"Late for a very important date," she finished.

The watch fell unceremoniously to his chest. Lady Sparrow climbed off her groaning, thrashing slave and adjusted herself in the mirror once again.

"I know, it's such unfortunate timing," she purred over his muzzled wails. "But I'm hosting a party right now, and I really need to check on my guests."

She ambled to the bedside and looked down upon her slave. The dread was dripping down his face, just the way she liked it.

"You, on the other hand, are perfect right where you are."

Drew tried to plead. She placed her hand on his cheek as if she meant to soothe him.

"If you really wanted to, you could weasel your way out of those restraints. You could run out to join the party, and no one would know what you've been up to."

Lady Sparrow reached into her bedside table again and pulled out of a set of keys on a chain. She proceeded to collect the clothes that Drew had spilled on her floor and brought them over to her closet. From within the closet, she dragged out a worn, heavy trunk. The key went into the lock, up came the lid, in went the clothes, down came the lid, out came the key. She gave the trunk a tug to confirm it was locked tight, and then she walked back over to Drew to dangle the keys above his face.

"If that's the path you want to take, then I wish you luck. But you're not getting those clothes until I say so. I'm keeping the keys to the trunk and, in the name of safety, for the bedroom door. No one is gonna come in and take advantage of you."

She leaned in to his ear.

"Unless I invite them to."

She slithered her tongue into his ear and filled it with wicked laughter. Her dress twirled as she turned away and went for the door. She was leaving. Oh God, she was leaving him here! She was leaving him naked tied to the bed!

"I think I'm gonna go find your friends now," she said from over her shoulder. "I wonder what I'll tell them if they ask me where you are."

Drew screamed. No one heard.

"I'll see you later, bunny boy. Oh, and by the way..."

Alice pulled up her blue dress and showed her red diamond and black club again. All that was missing this time around was the frilly white thong.

"...you can keep the underwear. I don't think I'll be needing them where I'm going."

Her laughter lingered in the room long after she had slipped out the door and locked it behind her. Drew tugged at his restraints and cried out as best as he could, but it was useless. She had him cornered in an unwinnable situation: he could pull an arm free with his mouth, sure, but what then? His clothes were locked away; if he was planning on making a daring escape, he would either do it in the bare nude or in women's clothing. Neither option boded well for maintaining his secrecy.

Not that it mattered anymore. If Drew's obsessive seduction attempts on the dance floor hadn't given the truth away to Margot and Beth, then Lady Sparrow would certainly make it clear to all of them. God, how stupid had he been! She gave him an out tonight, and he threw it away because he couldn't control his damn submissive instincts! He couldn't believe the situation he was in. How had this become his life? The Drew Lawson of a week ago would have gone to the party, gotten drunk, and gone home; this Drew was spending the party tied to the bed, waiting for Lady Sparrow or one of her chosen guests to come in and inflict some horrible will upon him.

To be fair, he had asked for it. He had practically thrown himself at her feet, a whore at his most deplorable. That's just what he became around her; her presence and aura fueled that section of his mind, gave it the strength it needed to overpower his rationality and make him a victim to his animalistic impulses. He surrendered to her and surrendered to himself, to the part of himself that yearned to be humiliated, debased, reduced to nothing. That's what he was now: nothing. He was discarded and forgotten, waiting in the void to be of use to someone again.

Time carries little meaning in purgatory. One could have told Drew that he was only waiting ten minutes before the door unlocked, but he would have been convinced he had been there for years, for decades, growing old and dying right there on that bed. Regardless of Drew's altered perception, ten minutes after Lady Sparrow left him to rot, the lock disengaged with a click. The door cracked open, a dark brown eye peered in, and then a dark brown body crept into the room and shut the door quickly. Carly twisted the lock and turned to Drew. Carefully, she began to approach, as if she were coming up to a wild animal.

Her face was a blend of intimidation, wonder, and above all else, hunger. Drew tried to force out a plea, tried to appeal to the sympathy that she had consistently displayed for him. He even tried to say it with his eyes, flashing her the pitiful puppy dog look that had melted her heart in the past. She caressed his sweating cheek, then dropped her pants and underwear to the ground.

Shamefully, she murmured, "Lady Sparrow... she said I could..."

Her fingers glided down his chest, down to the flaccid, defeated cock and the wasted condom at the tip. She pulled it off and discarded it before reaching into the bedside table to pull out another.

"I wish I could help you, Drew, but..."

She was staring at his dick now, teeth in her lip, heart visibly fluttering in her chest.

"...she told me I could either free you... or fuck you..."

Her hand curled around him and began to stroke it back to life. Although Drew still regarded her with pleading, panicked eyes, he couldn't stop the euphoric shiver that coursed through him at her touch.

"...and you're just too Goddamn cute."

Drew's teasing had cost him once again. The scarlet "A" on Lady Holiday's breast heaved madly as he stiffened in her hand. She opened the wrapper and rolled the condom down to his base. She climbed onto the bed. She climbed onto him. She grasped his erect cock and stared into his big, pretty eyes.

"God, you're so cute," she whispered.

Down she slid, wincing as Drew's cock pushed inside her vagina. Her eyes stayed shut as she lifted her hips before lowering them again. Her body was adjusting to him now. It fit her just right, snug but moving with ease against the wet interior. Finally, her eyes flickered open, and they swelled with pained compassion at the desperate bunny beneath her.

"I shouldn't be doing this," she whispered.

She leaned forward to brace herself against his chest. Her hips moved faster, slapping down loudly on Drew's thighs. Her many braids swung and jumped as she bounced on the boytoy's lovely cock.

"It's so wrong."

But she couldn't stop. The toy filled her up and throbbed inside of her. It wanted her. She pulled the underwear from Drew's mouth, but before he could say anything, she pushed her plump lips on him and shoved her tongue inside. She released a fury of moans into his mouth, her nails sinking into his shoulder blades as her hips pounded harder on his waist.

Pulling away, she moaned, "tell me you love it. Please."

Drew could speak. He could beg her to let him go. He could beg her to unlock the trunk and give him back his clothes. He could run back to the party and pretend none of this had happened. He could be free.

"I love it, Lady Holiday," he told her, gasping. "I love it when you fuck me like a whore."

He couldn't help himself. Never could. Lady Holiday's pussy was too tight, too perfect, and he was far too crazed with lust at this point to interrupt her. It felt amazing to be used. His dick was pulsing with joy, finally achieving the satisfaction it had been craving for so long.

"Fuck me, please! I'm your slut, I'm your worthless little slut!"

The guests must have heard them. Carly's moaning was out of control, while Drew's vile words erupted loudly and proudly. Even the smacking sound of her flesh on his probably drowned out the music. Neither of them cared. The whole party could have been standing in the room with them, and Carly would've kept her stride with Drew cheering on from beneath her. Cheerleader was the only role that he could play in his position; his heels dug into the bed and his wrists tugged against the cuffs, but he couldn't grab her or thrust into her or even give her pause. Lady Holiday was in full control.

"Oh God, fuck me like you own me!"

Drew loved that feeling, obviously. Fucking is hard to beat, but getting fucked is a whole different entity. His binds rendered him a passive participant in someone else's pleasure. He had been reduced so severely that he was now little more than an emotionally supportive dildo. Even Carly, who had been previously so compassionate toward him, endorsed his dehumanization. Some part of her still mewled that she should have let the poor bunny go, but it could not rise above the deafening roars of other, more primary forces.

"I'm so lucky to be your plaything. Thank you Lady Holiday, thank you!"

First, there was the force of Drew's total submission; it materialized in his vulgar cries and moans, in his starstruck, blissful stares, in the pouting lips kept wet with inviting licks, and in the ceaseless resistance against his ties, his hands outstretched yearning for a single brush of her dark, damp skin against the pads of his fingers. The pitiful sight resounded within an even more powerful force: Carly's newfound ache for his devotion. It had started to gnaw at her as she lay in bed on Thursday night; she thought about the way he had stared at her, stripped for her, lapped at her pussy until she came so hard that even just remembering it made her legs push together impatiently.

Carly couldn't understand why Lady Sparrow tormented him the way she did, but she had to agree with this: it was good to have a slut around. Jesus, it was the Goddamn best! She could sense the profound depth of his lust in those outstretched hands and that filthy mouth of his. Right now, staring down into those glazed eyes, Lady Holiday knew that his brain was full of her and only her. That sort of devotion left her heart warm and her body hot, eager to feel the physicality of his need.

"Am I your whore, Lady Holiday? Am I - fuck!"

Her arms curled around his neck, her head resting beside his. She had lost the strength to hold herself upright. All of her energy was committed to keeping her hips in motion; they pulverized the frail little pet as Lady Holiday took what belonged to her.

"Don't stop talking!" she cried. "Don't stop you... fucking... whore!"

That was what Drew needed to hear. No matter how many times it was said, the confirmation always had the same effect. Despite the mania that possessed the two horny students, a devious clarity had awoken in the submissive: if Lady Holiday wanted a whore, then she would get one.