[Sierra]

Christian continues his humiliation by putting two gloved fingers inside me. Through the fog that clouds my mind, I wonder why he had put gloves on when he had put his bare fingers there before. The thought is fleeting, however, as the sensation of him fingering my secret parts takes over my consciousness. I hear him prattling on about the treatment for broken arms, but it just washes over me like waves of sound, without meaning. I wonder briefly if he’s trying to take my mind off what he is doing to me.

I feel his fingers going deeper and I try to keep myself from writhing in discomfort. His insistent fingers move inside and outside my vagina, and I can’t suppress a moan as I turn my face to the floor and close my eyes tightly.

I realize suddenly that he is asking me questions. I force my mind to focus on what he is saying. “Did you cry when it happened? Were you a brave girl?”

Why is he asking me this? I manage to stammer out “yes,” hoping that will satisfy him.

I feel Christian fingers slip out of me and I breathe a short-lived sigh of relief. I hear his gloved hand go between the cheeks of my backside, and to my horror I feel him pushing against my most hidden entrance. I start to struggle, but his fingers push past the ring of flesh, with a flash of pain. I try to pull away from his torturing fingers.

“Tess, I need you to relax now. You’re only hurting yourself by fighting it,” Christian says. His manner is that of a doctor and the words pierce my brain and compel me to try to obey.

I try to relax my muscles but can’t sustain it. I start to sob, “Oh, please…please…why are you doing this? No, Christian, I can’t do this!” Christian shushes my whimpers and moans and pushes strands of hair back from my face. His fingers are sliding in and out of me until I nearly scream from pain and shame.

I feel my toes curl painfully. Just when I think I can no longer endure it he stops moving until I catch my breath and calm down. When my breathing slows, he starts moving his fingers again and my sobs grow louder. I start to straighten my legs, but Christian puts his knee behind mine to keep me bent and open to him.

Suddenly he pulls his fingers out of me and while I lay sobbing on the floor I hear the sound of rubber as he takes off the gloves and tosses them in the small bin near the bed. I feel his hands on my hips pulling me to my knees. I don’t resist him as he pushes my knees apart. His left arm crosses my neck, taking hold of my shoulder on the other side and pulling me to him. I feel his manhood pressing insistently against my backside and to my horror he slowly pushes himself into my ass.


My hand fits between her cheeks and the same fingers look to slide inside her. The protection of the gloves mean I don’t have to worry about trimmed or clean fingernails. Now Tess is squirming, her hole is tensing up and her knees move when they shouldn’t. I advise her to relax, reminding her of what I had said earlier as we first slipped into bed. Resisting me will only lead to pain on her part, especially in this instance with a highly sensitive area. She is stunned by my actions and can only be at ease for a brief moment. She implores me to stop and to tell her why this must be done. There is one consolation, thanks to doctor-patient confidentiality, no one outside these walls will ever know of her humiliation.

“Shhh….”, I whisper, gently catching the strands of hair across her face and caressing it.

The rubber kills the softness I would normally feel with my hand’s touch. My fingers push further between her anal walls, but I am not searching for a fissure. Her own moisture and my semen begin to make moving in and out of her a simpler task. I give her a moment to breathe, allowing the internal sphincter to relax. I watch her closely, her panting gradually slowing down. I think about how she genuinely does not know why I am doing this – she is that naive. Her crying and moans return even stronger as my fingers repeat their motion again. As unprofessional as it sounds, it is turning me on. I press my knee onto hers to hold her legs in place until I finish the procedure.

I take my hand away from her bottom and peel the gloves off, throwing them into the waste basket. I catch her torso with my bare hands and her body is loose. She is then propped up with her back straight to me. I separate her knees and grind my already growing member against her smooth skin to increase my excitement. My arm is wrapped across her neck as I point into her back passage and slowly push into it. At first she appears to freeze, allowing another inch at a time to enter her and failing to oppose me until it is too late. Her arms start to twitch and fight the restraints. My hand is firmly gripping her right shoulder, pulling her body towards me. I feel her tightening around me, making the lubrication all the more important. A second thrust comes with more urgency, Tess’ mouth hanging open in disbelief. Her protests are released in quick gasps and sobs. I brush her hair away from one ear and lean my face against it. I remember Tommy’s text message, the one that believed her lies about meeting her uncle tonight. Do what you have to do, indeed.

“Do you like it when he calls you babe? I could call you that, too”, I tell her, still speaking softly.

I snigger to myself and pester her neck, a rough kiss turning into a light bite. She winces at pain that in truth must pale in comparison to the anal pressure she endures. Her head lowers and I loosen the grip above her chest, allowing her body to fall to the floor once again. Her tied wrists take the weight of my upper half, which in turn press into her back. Her breasts are squashed into the carpeted floor. I grit my teeth to accompany another drive into Tess’ rectum, as she screams in agony.


The pain goes through me like a white-hot flash and I freeze in shock as he pushes his way into me slowly. As the shock wears off and the pain makes its way into my consciousness, I start to struggle in earnest against the bonds. He pulls me to him, burying his entire length in my backside. He thrusts again, harder this time, and the pain takes my breath away. My mouth falls open to gasp for air and I start to sob and moan.

He leans into me and pushes the hair away from my sweaty face.

“Do you like it when he calls you Babe? I could call you that, too?” My mind rebels against him using the endearment that Tom uses on the phone and in texts for me. It's special to us, and it's HIS word for me, just as "Honey" is my word for him. Christian is making that dirty and I hate him for it.

He leans down further and bites me on the neck. I pull away in disgust at the intimate gesture. I drop my head and he bends me at the waist, pressing my face and upper body into the floor. He pulls almost out of me, then drives into my ass again. I can no longer contain my scream into the carpet. I cannot breathe and turn my face to the side, again crying out from the terrible pain. I kick back at him, and some of those kicks land on his leg but to no avail. My fingers try to grab at him and I feel my nail scrape against his skin. I hear a sharp intake of his breath and he moves away from my hands. He grabs a handful of my hair and thrusts into me again, making my scream die in my throat. I hear his mocking voice in my ear through the pain.

“How does it feel to be fucked in the ass….Babe?”

He lets go of my hair and starts thrusting again, with long painful strokes. My screams get louder and louder until he covers my mouth to muffle them.


The carpet is suitable for our bare feet but not Tess’ face, pressing into it because she cannot elevate herself. My hands rest beside her naked body and her first scream is lost in the ground’s covering. My teeth grind as I breathe heavily through my mouth. She manages to shift her face on its side and she wails for all to hear. I feel her heels desperately kicking back at my legs, but it is her fingernails that irritate me, scratching at my chest and forcing me to lift off her back. I catch her curly hair and with another stroke I’m fully inside her again. While her head leans back, this scream becomes nothing more than a worthless whine. The inserted vaginal juices and cum is assisting me between my skin and her tissue. I may no longer be in my desired position, but she can hear my cruel whispers clearly from here. I remind her of what is happening to her, that she actually has someone’s cock in her ass, using Tommy’s cute little word to accompany it.

I release her hair and push hard into her bowels, her head dropping and her screams of pain increasing in volume. I grope the soft flesh of her backside in rhythm with my repeated thrusts and keep myself steady, while my other hand covers her mouth. It becomes incessant sobbing, muffled in my sweaty palm. There are no shouts of “no” or “stop”, because they would not have any purpose. She is my investment and her body is my property until the completion of our arrangement. My grunting gradually becomes louder as I near climax and my manhood is throbbing; my head tilts back and I briefly take in the room’s light on the ceiling. I wrap my hand around her bound arms, seeing her fingers wriggle and wishing for escape. I savour the sensations against her walls, knowing full well I will never experience this with my wife again. My arm falls inwards and my gagging hand looses its grip.

Her insides take my second load, my chest hugging her lower back where the wrists are tied behind. The remainder of my sticky semen trickles into her anal canal. Our panting contradicts one another, mine of pleasure and exhaustion, hers of hurt and revulsion. A strand of her sweaty blonde hair sticks to my lip. I raise my head to check on her, her crying quieter but evident by her head’s minor movement. I slowly pull my length from her body and my closed fists press into the floor to help me to my feet. The knots in the tie are tight and would need a small object to fit between them, so I slide my fingers underneath the material and suddenly stretch it, uncomfortably rolling it off Tess’ sore wrists.

I see the contract on the dresser, collecting both that and the pen along side it. The wrinkles are smoothed out before it is placed on the sensitive back of Harry’s daughter for support. I sign my name in blue on the first page and then the second, which my assistant had typed up the previous night. With a cross of the T and the dots of the I’s, our transaction has concluded; her family has secured my services to save a worthless old man. The sheet awaits his signature below mine.

Finding a box of tissues on the dresser, I snatch two to wipe my brow and they join the surgical gloves in the bin. The damaged neck tie is stuffed in my pants pocket before I put on my boxer shorts. I look over at her as I collect my shirt, clasping each button with no hesitation. The young woman lays there with her hands by her sides for a few moments, perhaps not realizing they are free. Finally she brings her palms to her tearstained face, absorbing what has taken place. I’m not happy about the fact that I am half ready but she has yet to make a move, only delaying the long drive home.

“Get dressed. We’re leaving.”