Robert Jenkins: Suzy in bondage

"Jesus… it looks like it's been tenderized!" he blurted out.

Sue lay on the carpeted floor as the men drew back and began to dress. She slowly became aware of how sore and tired she was. How used and soiled her body felt. Oh God! When would this endless humiliation end?

Then she saw a pair of highly polished shoes next to her head. She turned her head and found herself staring up Frank Hammer's well-dressed legs. Flinching, acting as if she feared a kick, she scrambled to a sitting position.

"You're the perfect cunt," he said amusedly.

For an instant the girl's eyes showed their first sign of real life. A fierce hatred flared in their blue depths. Almost as quickly the hate faded away, but not before Frank Hammer had seen it.

"Look at me, bitch!" he said coldly.

When Sue tried to look away, he seized her jaw in an iron grip and jerked her head around.

"You're getting uppity," he said softly, his voice menacing. "You're starting to act like a human being. I don't like that. You're a cunt… a gash… a place to stick cocks! You got that?"

The girl remained mute, her eyes looking hopelessly up at the big man. Once again that quick flicker of hate.

"You need a lesson," Frank Hammer said.

He dropped her chin and began to unzip his fly. Out tumbled a huge cock, still soft. But it quickly grew hard as Hammer wrapped his fingers around the rubbery shaft and began to jerk off.

"You watch it… you watch the tip!" he ordered the girl fiercely.

The girl tried to look away, but he seized her hair and dragged her head around. "Watch it!" he warned her.

And then he began to cum, his face showing no expression. The girl flinched as his hot sticky sperm splattered all over her face and chest. Her hair was clotted with it. A glob dripped slowly off the tip of one nipple.

"That's what I think of you, cunt," Hammer grunted as he stuffed his dripping cock back in his pants. "You're not even worth pissing on."

The girl sat mutely. She didn't even try to wipe the slippery cum from her face and body. Silent tears began to well up in her eyes.

"Let's split," Hammer told the men who worked for him. "The little bitch is going to cry. I never could stand a crying broad."

Sue heard the rustle of shoes on the carpet. Then the door slammed. Only then did she dare look up. She was alone.

"Oh… God!" the crouching girl burst out in a strangled voice. She looked around the dingy room. At the soiled carpet. At the cum-stained mattress a few feet away. At her own abused, fouled body. She felt dirty.

"Oh, God!" she burst out again. "How did this ever happen to me?"

It was a dream, a nightmare. It had to be! With a sob, the girl crawled to the grubby mattress and threw herself face down on it.

"This can't be real," she sobbed. But it was. Oh, God! How had it all started?

Sue Ryan, nineteen years old, was engaged to be married. Not with her parents' complete approval, for the match was slightly suspect.

Ben Jackson, her fiancee, was considerably older than Sue – thirty-three. While some people considered him an interesting and entertaining man, others considered him a drunk and a weakling. Both sides had grounds for their opinions.

Ben was a professor of literature at the college Sue attended. To her, he was fabulously romantic. His romanticism included those little lapses of courage and uprightness others damned him for.

Sue had entered Ben's poetry class the year before, when she was a freshman, a young, tender, eighteen-year-old virgin with big blue eyes, bigger tits, and a lush little ass that immediately caught Ben's attention.

He turned the full treatment on the dazzled young girl. She fell easily.

After a couple of weeks of his most dramatic classroom behavior, using carefully chosen, daring sex-words in front of his impressed freshman class, and after alluding to dark sorrows in his own life, Ben asked Sue if she would help him edit one of his latest books of poetry.

Sue was overwhelmed. Already half in love with the tall, handsome, modishly bearded Ben, she welcomed the opportunity to look deep into his soul. Through his poetry.

Never mind that some of those glimpses were disturbing. Or that Ben's poetry was unbelievably shallow. He copied second-rate avant-garde academic poets who were temporarily in the favor of college students. His poetry was sly, weak, and showed no originality whatsoever. Just like himself.

Sue sensed this, although she could never have put it into words. But she had a nurse's instinct, and something in her pressed her to take care of the glittering hollow man she was falling in love with.

Ben was a good opportunity for Sue to get rid of her virginity. It had been hanging around her neck like a heavy weight for the last few years. Yet she had held onto it out of an overdone sense of obligation to her parents.

Ben moved carefully. He knew Sue's parents had a lot of money. This was one that mustn't get away.

Sue's father was senior partner in a large investment firm. A lifetime of handling other people's money had made him very conservative. Ben knew he had to weld Sue so tightly to him that she would reject any reservations her parents had about him.

Sue's work helping edit Ben's smug little verses involved her working late at night with him. One thing progressed to another.

While Sue was a virgin, she wasn't totally unacquainted with sex. All during high school, the lovely budding blonde had been the sexual target of eager young classmates. Her tits were familiar with the hot feel of a sucking mouth. And a number of fingers had slid up her tight little cunt.

At first Ben proceeded by touching the girl. Not sexually, just touching her. On the arm, the back, sometimes the thigh when she was sitting next to him.

The touching became more and more familiar, until Ben was running his hands sensuously over Sue's body almost all the time they were alone.

Still, he never touched her tits or crotch. These, areas were left strictly alone. The more he touched the rest of her, the more Sue's tits and cunt became aware something was missing.

Within a week Ben had Sue panting to be fondled. Her sexual temperature rose to the boiling point. She began wearing less and less to their nightly meetings. Her bra went first. Her skirts became shorter and shorter.

Ben found it hard to resist the girl's big tits, bouncing jauntily free under her thin sweater. The nipples poked sexily from the nearly sheer material. When she sat down, Sue often carelessly let her legs open. The sight of her panty-covered cunt set him on fire.

But he held back until he knew the girl was ready. She came due one night when they were working in his little house. The house itself was romantic, or seemed so. It was an old wooden bungalow, hanging over a cove in the seaside town where the university was located.

Camp art decorated the splintery old walls. Most of the furniture in the living room was purposely uncomfortable. This was by design, because the only comfortable place in the whole little house was the huge king-sized bed in the tiny, dimly lit bedroom.

That night Ben had maneuvered Sue onto the bed. They were resting between pages of his poetry book. Ben's hands were, as usual, roaming over Sue's lush young body. Sue was quivering and sighing under his touch. Ben knew it was time.

"Suzy," he said, suddenly folding the girl in his arms. He kissed her on the mouth. The passion with which she returned the kiss reassured him he was on the right track.

"Oh, Ben…" Sue sighed.

His hand was softly rubbing over her belly. She literally pushed her tits at him.

"Mmmmmmmm," the girl quavered happily as Ben's sensitive fingers closed over her tit. Little shudders shook her body.