[darkstalker]

Clare sobs, her breaths coming out in heaving gasp. But Ophelia ignores her, pulling her fingers from Clare’s mouth and wiping them over her chest. “My. My. What a dirty slut. What are we to do with you?”
“How about this?” Clare jerks back, trying to kick out, but finding it useless, her scalp burning. She hears a drawer opened, Ophelia cursing. This is my chance, she thinks, as Ophelia is fumbling in the drawer. She rams her elbow down into Ophelia’s ribs, hearing the girl cry out releasing her.
She runs, heading to the door and her face crashes against it with a boom. Her scalp burns as her face is pressed hard against the door, Ophelia’s body pressed tight against her own. “Naughty, naughty,” whispers Ophelia nearly against her ear, the warm moisture from her lips passing against Clare’s ear. “You’re going to pay for that.”
“Fuck... you...” whispers Clare.
Ophelia grins behind her. “What a poor choice of words Clare, but we’ll get to that.” Clare’s right arm is suddenly jerked back, twisted behind her back. “Ow!” she shrieks.
“Sooner then you think,” says Ophelia, twisting Clare’s other arm, a clasp closing over the first followed by the second, locking her hands in cuffs. Ophelia pulls her back by the cuffs, holding Clare before her, observing the woman. “What a nice sight you are,” she says, hands trailing over Clare’s breasts.
Clare is shoved backwards, stumbling over the bed. “Yeah. Why not?” says Ophelia, sauntering back to her drawers and bending down, opening the lower ones. “I think it’s about time I broke you in proper. Rubel would be disappointed otherwise.”
“Rubel?” says Clare in shock. “What’s he have to do with this?”
“Oh,” says the woman, standing up with her toys. “Quite a bit more then you can imagine.” Clare stares, wide eyed, seeing the large black cylindral object and bolts, slamming her shoulder against the door with a bang. And again.
As she leans in for her third hit she is turned around, a fist slamming into her stomach, doubling her over, drool and spittle coming from parted lips. “You’re being quite the little trouble maker,” says Ophelia. “I guess we can skip the lube. No reason to make your lesson any kinder.”
Clare curls up in a ball, shivering. Her stomach is cramping from the blow and she is gasping, hearing Ophelia undress behind her. The woman’s pants falling to the floor heavily followed by other garments.
Clare feels her hair jerked back suddenly forcing her on shaky legs as the woman taps her cheek lightly with a large rod. “Look,” she says, “have a looksy will you?”
Clare opens her eyes slowly, not able to see the object being waved in front of her easily through her tear filled eyes. “You know what this is?” says Ophelia, sliding the object over Clare’s cheek and around over her lips, pushing the end against her front teeth. “This,” she says with a cheerful squeal, “Is a dick!”
Clare’s eyes widen, now seeing the object for what it truly is. A massive dildo with studs. Fully at least several inches thick. “And it moves,” says Ophelia, pressing a button, and Clare stares wide eyed, the machine twisting back and forth in Ophelia’s grip like a venomous snake.
“Oh god...” she whispers.
“Oh, god has nothing to do with this,” she says, running the machine down over Clare’s stomach, making Clare try to push away. “Don’t you worry sweetie,” says Ophelia menacingly. “This is just a little toy. It just needs to find a little home in you. Somewhere warm and cozy where it can snuggle up and push its little head in.”
“You’re sick!” Clare hisses through clenched teeth.
“So they say,” says the woman, her eyes large and happy, teeth wide and white in a twisted grin. The woman begins to bend down while holding Clare’s scalp making the position very painful.
“What are you...” she begins when she feels the thing being jammed up in her sensitive organ. “Aaaaahhhhh!!!” she shrieks, her lungs expelling what oxygen they have as the large piece of machinery is shoved up her intimate region.
“Oh, don’t be such a baby, Clare!” says Ophelia. “I shut it off already. It shouldn’t hurt...” she twist, pushing the head in further. “That much!”
Clare jerks back, the tears streaming down her eyes. “Aaahhhh!” she cries out, the pain of having the large plastic phallus being shoved inside her nearly virgin bowels being more then she can handle. “Take it out!” she screams. “Take it out!”
Ophelia smiles, running her hands up Clare’s body, teasing her breasts while Clare whimpers softly and turns her face, making Clare look at her in the eyes. “No,” she says simply.
“Please!” she begs. “Take it out.”
The woman smiles, her grin spreading, white teeth seeming almost sharp. “No. What’s the fun in that? Sides... if you want me to do something for you...” She shoves Clare back, making her flop back on the bed. Clare tries to sit up finding Ophelia suddenly on top of her, her legs straddling Clare’s face. “You’re going to have to do something for me, you little whore.”
“No!” Clare shrieks. “Get it out! Get off!”
“Get it out, get off,” Ophelia chides in a condescending tone. “Can’t really make up your mind, can you?”
The woman leans back, a switch clicking into place and Clare shrieks, her hips bucking as the large phallus begins to squirm in her pussy, pushing against her tight walls and slamming end over end against her inner walls. “Aaaaahhhh!” she howls, her eyes rolling back in her head.
“Now...” says Ophelia, positioning her legs more comfortably around Clare’s face so Clare is wrapped almost in a hug by Ophelia’s shapely legs. “You’re going to slurp me down there and make me cum. Because if you don’t...”
And the switch clicks again, going up another notch as the vibrations grow more violent against Clare’s womb. “I’m going to put this at its max and push the thing all the way in so far you won’t be able to get it out without cutting your cunt open!”
Clare stares wide eyed, the tears streaming down her cheeks, barely able to see or concentrate on Ophelia’s face. The woman smiles, sliding her hips down towards Clare’s open mouth, making Clare want to gag instantly at the musky odor that pervades her nostrils, the taste of hair and juices filling her mouth. But she is unable to as Ophelia grips the hair on her scalp and pushes Clare harder against her hips, grinding them against her face. “Alright cunt,” Ophelia hisses. “Get to work!”