Rosaria Ch. 01

The door creaked open, admitting a thin shaft of lamplight and a draft that tugged at the loose folds of my smock. My eyes simultaneously yearned for and shrunk from the light, accustomed as they had become to the darkness. The crack widened far enough to allow a thin man bearing a lamp to slip through. The door closed behind him, and I heard the bar fall into place, locking us inside together. My heart sank.

"Rosaria," he murmured huskily. Father Miguel liked to play at romance before he used me. He approached my corner, and though the motion was futile, I couldn't help but shrink from him as far as my bonds would allow. I hunched my knees and buried my face in them, blacking out the light for a moment in the musty fabric.

"Rosaria." He was much closer now. I felt fingers trace up the center of my back, and I shuddered with fear and resignation. The fingers drew ever closer to my neck. "Look at me, Rosaria." I did not move.

The fingers rose, seized a handful of smock and hair, and snapped my face backward, away from my knees. His eyes were inches from mine, and his mouth closed over my own. I felt his tongue pushing against my lips, seeking entry; but I resisted, pointlessly drawing out the inevitable. His free hand rose and held my nose closed, to force me to open my mouth for breath. I fought as long as I could, bucking against the bonds that held my wrists and ankles to the ring in the floor in front of me.

Eventually, when darkness seeped into the corners of my vision, my body overrode my objections and parted its lips, drinking in three whole, delicious gulps of air before his tongue drove into my mouth. I tried to bite him, but he dug his knuckles into my cheeks to force my jaw to stay open and admit him.

After a few moments like this, he released my jaw. Keeping a firm grip on my hair, he held me immobilized as he burrowed between my breasts. They were, mercifully, still covered with my smock, a thought that occurred to him quickly. He yanked it up and left it on my arms; my wrists, still bound, prevented its complete removal.

"Rosaria, I'm going to untie your ankles. You know what will happen if you try to kick; please don't make me leave more marks on your pretty flesh." I cringed. Despite his warning, I instinctively kicked at him the moment my ankles were free; the motion was stunted and awkward because of the ropes that yet held my wrists.

Expecting it, he dodged it easily and produced a thin whip from a dark corner, the sort that his monks used to flog themselves in penance for imagined sins. None of them ever flogged himself for using me, despite what their religion demanded of them. Without missing a beat, he brought the leather whistling through the air to crack across my lower back. I bit my lip to keep from making a sound.

Snap! Wince. Snap! My lip was bleeding. Snap! Something warm crept down my back. Snap! I moaned. Snap. Snap. Snap! Three blows in quick succession, and I was done. I screamed and begged him to stop. Snap. I screamed again. Snap! Hot droplets flowed from my eyes and my back as I sobbed and curled up on the floor.

It stopped without warning. I froze, waiting for him to resume, but he didn't. I heard him fumbling in his clothes, and I glanced up at him, confused. He held a knife in his left hand as he searched for something else in his pockets. I clenched my eyes shut, terrified, expecting at any moment to feel the blade enter my body.

Suddenly, he seized my ankles and pulled them straight until I lay on my stomach, my arms stretched cruelly above me, still tied to the ring in the floor. He straddled my buttocks, preventing me from moving. I saw his shadow in the lamplight, cutting into something with the knife. Before I could wonder what he was doing, something sprayed across the cuts in my lower back, lighting them on fire. I screamed so loudly that he pushed my chest into the dirt, preventing me from drawing breath. He kept spraying the demon liquid on me, each spray more excruciating than the last. Tears gushed from my eyes, and I thrashed against his weight as my lungs screamed for air.

As my convulsions grew more violent, he stood and leapt off me, grabbing my ankles again. He pulled them so hard that it lifted me bodily in the air. He spun me around and slammed my back into the dirt, rubbing sand into the bloody mess of my back. I began to cry hysterically, screaming and cursing him as he straddled me again. He forced my jaw open again and shoved in the mangled remains of a large lemon, effectively muting my cries.

With me thus immobilized and silenced, he ran his hands along my body. He cupped my breasts and twisted them. He slid his body slowly downward until he could lap at my nipples, coaxing them into points and biting them fiercely. Blood blossomed beneath the surface of my skin, leaving bruises in his wake.

He reached between my legs, his hands still sticky with lemon juice. He shoved three fingers inside me without any warning; the lemon stung as he ripped open my sensitive folds. I cried against the gag and fought to free myself, so he lay across me and snatched the whip from the floor, bringing it down across my breasts four times in a row. While I was still recovering from the blows, he shoved his face between my legs, lapping at my nub and slicking me up with his spit. As my body began to respond, he sucked my juices out of me and spat them on my stomach. They trickled down my sides, stinging as they reached the edges of my ravaged back.

He fumbled in his robes and withdrew his cock, aiming it for my cunt as he climbed back on top of me. He slammed inside of me and bit at my neck, my ears, my breasts, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He snatched a handful of my hair and yanked my face back, exposing my throat. He licked from my collarbone to my lemon-filled mouth, then spat on my face. His other hand grasped my tender breast, using it roughly as a handle to strengthen his thrusts.

I began to choke on the lemon, unable to free it from my throat with my face held back. He withdrew from my cunt and crawled higher up my body. Extracting the lemon carcass from my mouth, he replaced it with his cock, shoving himself into my throat until his robes smothered my face. He fucked my face for a few moments until I felt the telltale twitch of climax. He pulled out at the last moment and covered my face with his cum.

"Clean my cock, Rosaria," he growled. I shook my head defiantly. "Clean it, or I will scoop the salt off your face and rub it into your back."

I lapped at his cock, polishing it until it shone.