Robert Vickers - Breaking in the new girl

"Please, Dwight, into the back room. Please," she said, motioning toward the unused studio at the end of the station. He nodded curtly and Caroline wanted to cry out for joy, but she knew how dangerous her position actually was right now. She didn't dare show any sign of triumph – until afterward.

His fingers locked like steel bands on her arms. She fought, but it did no good. He lifted her like a rag doll and carried her into the room. He dumped her unceremoniously on the dais. She felt the wooden stage protesting the sudden load. Before she could get her feet under her to roll away and escape, Dwight was beside her.

"I'm going to tie you up and show you what I want when we fuck. Maybe you'll get the idea so I don't ever have to fuck you like this again. You screwed up on the weather tonight just to get even with me. Well, baby, now it's my turn to get even with you!"

Caroline gasped when he pulled, loose the curtain sash on the drapes behind the stage and looped it around her left wrist. He knotted the cord at the edge of the stage. No matter how much she fought, he was heavier and stronger. He soon had both her hands bound above her head. Caroline looked up and saw movement in the dark shadows on the other side of the studio. Her heart leaped into her throat. She knew she was on camera again, but she didn't dare let on to Bryon.

By the time she thought about kicking, he was ready to fasten her legs to the other edge of the stage. He didn't bother to strip off her skirt. He went ahead and tied her ankles securely, leaving the blonde woman half naked. He looked down at her and lightly brushed his fingertips over one of her trembling nipples.

"You get off on this, don't you, you common slut? Well, I'll show you what a real man can do. I'm going to fuck you like you've never been fucked before. And you're gonna love it."

Caroline fought against the ropes. The more she struggled the tighter the knots became. She felt the circulation cutting off in her hands and feet. Naked to the waist, she thought she was at least going to escape having him fuck her. If he tried to untie her legs to get her skirt off, she could kick him away.

But the girl didn't understand the extent of her problem.

Dwight came back with a large pair of scissors. He shoved the sharp-pointed instrument next to the girl's tender-fleshed leg. She cringed and tried to get away. She couldn't. The ropes held her too securely. He pressed the scissors into her skin and began cutting away her pantyhose. She gasped when he reached her thigh.

He was so close to her snatch!

"Please, Dwight, let's talk about it. We can…"

"We've talked. It's time I did something." He began cutting across her snatch. She felt the cold metal blade pressing into her cunt lips. He had caught her bikini briefs and sheared them away at the same time.

By the time he was all the way down her other leg, the blonde was totally naked. Never had she felt more helpless in her young life. She watched a man she thought she knew tower over her and menace her.

"Now, we fuck," he said.

She shivered with cold and fear. His hands caressed her belly, moved to the blonde tangle of her pussy mound. He grabbed a handful of the fleecy cornsilk pubic hair and jerked. She screamed as her hips lifted involuntarily off the hard stage on which he'd tied her.

"This is the way I want your hips to be when I'm ready to fuck your cunt. Do you understand?"

"Dwight, please, don't do this to me."

"Do you understand?" he demanded again. He pulled harder on the handful of tight pussy fur he held. She thought she would go put of her mind with pain. She had loved the nearness of his cock and, in spite of her misgivings, had thought any cock in her body was better than getting none.

But this was torture. Her boss was misusing her – abusing her!

"Yes, oh God, Dwight, stop! Don't do it to me! Not like this." She began to sob quietly. Tears ran down her cheeks. She wanted to reach out and wipe them away, but with her hands bound over her head, she couldn't.

She had to watch Dwight Bryon slowly undress. He peeled out of his shirt and showed his muscular chest, gleaming with the sweat of exertion from tying her up. As he shucked out of his pants, she was surprised to see his hard on. It quivered and jerked at attention in front of his crotch. She had been expecting to suck on it to make it hard. But his cock was already a fully functioning fuck stick.

He threw away the last of his clothes and jumped onto the stage beside her. Caroline groaned as the wood yielded under her. This caused her arms and legs to feel as if they would be pulled out of their sockets. She didn't know if she was more scared or more turned on.

The sight of her boss cock did things to her. She remembered how good it had been that first time in his office. She had desired the grey-haired man then. But now, he was demanding the same sexual slavery, that had turned her off totally. Caroline didn't know how to react.

So her body responded for her.

Thick juices began boiling in her tight pussy. She felt the sluggish fluid leaking around her puckered pussy lips and running down into the crack of her ass. As the love oils ran into her asshole, she remembered with growing lust how it had felt having Peter fucking her there. The thought of her boyfriend and what he was doing helped calm her fears and incite her passion. In spite of herself, the sexy young girl was getting more and more, turned on.

"Get that ass off the floor like I told you!" snapped Bryon.

"Please, Dwight, let me go. We can work this out."

"Do it!"

The frightened girl didn't have the chance to obey. Rough hands grabbed, a double handful of assflesh and lifted until she was straining at the limits of her bonds. She shrieked in agony. What was worse was the way his fingers dived down into the humid canyon between her buttocks. She couldn't help remembering the gentle touch Peter had used before he fucked her.

"That's more like it. Now what do you want up that slimy cunt of yours?" He lifted even harder until Caroline thought her arms would come unglued from her body.

"Your c-c-cock!" she stuttered. "Stuff it in and fuck my cunt!"

"Good, but not good enough. You're going to have to beg me for my cock after all you've said. It's not dull, is it, having me fuck you? Tell me, dammit, tell me!"

Caroline hardly knew what to do or say. Lightning bolts of blazing agony lanced into her shoulders. She thought her hips would break under the strain. As the man kneeled between her wide-spread legs, she experienced a completely and totally helpless feeling that wouldn't go away. It was even worse than when she went to her doctor to have her cunt examined. Feet in those metal stirrups made her feel exposed; this was infinitely worse.

"Please fuck me," she gasped out. She would do anything to make the pain go away. She was humiliated and debased. Anything that would get the man's rocks off so he would leave her alone was okay with her.

"Again. Tell me again and in more detail."

"I need you fucking my cunt. I need to feel your cock buried all the way up my tight pussy. I need it sooooo!"

She was shrieking with the misery of her situation. And when the man's cock slammed into the delicately scalloped inner cunt lips, she shrieked again. It was so unexpected that it sent a tremor of fear throughout her tender, young, bound body.

The head of his throbbingly alive cock parted her slippery cunt lips and sank into her body. She thrashed around but couldn't really move. His hands brutally pinched at her asscheeks and lifted her off the bed. His prick shot another inch into her convulsing cunt.

She gasped and tried to tell him to stop. The words wouldn't come. In spite of her predicament, Caroline found herself being more and more turned on. This was a different style of fucking. And she had promised Peter she would try to enjoy whatever Dwight did to her.