CHAPTER 65: The Virgin’s Summer, Part 5

“… Michael. What are you asking me? What is it that you want?”

“I want... I want… just sometimes, to see you react to me, the way you react to him. I want to see that look on your face when it’s me you’re looking at.”

“But... you don’t like doing to me… those kinds of things. You’ve said it yourself. You couldn’t bear to do it. When we first arrived, you were so angry when you saw the weals left on me. You don’t want to do that, and sorry, but you’re right, it does arouse me. It turns me on in a very specific way.”

He turns away again, staring through the window, out to sea. “You’re right of course,” he says. “I couldn’t bring myself to do it, to cause you pain, even though it seems to pleasure you.”

He chuckles.

“What’s funny?”

“Sorry, I still can’t get over the look on Steve and Marcie’s face that night, when you punched him.”

“As you said yourself, he didn’t want to take ‘No’ for an answer.”

“You certainly know how to swing a punch. When he went down like that, I wondered if he’d get back up again.”

And now Michael is smiling. He turns back to face me.

“Hit me.”

?

“Hit you? Why would I hit you?”

“Never mind. Just try. I saw you swing a punch like an expert. Now, try to hit me.”

“But I don’t want to hit you. Why would I want to hurt you?”

His expression changes, becoming intense, deep. “Don’t worry. You won’t. Go on, try to hit me.”

What’s he doing? What does he want?

I tap him with my knuckles, lightly, in his chest.

“No, try properly,” he says. “Like you did to Steve.”

Half-heartedly, I swing at him, not putting real power into it. Why would I want to hurt my Golden Lover? Without effort, he catches my arm by the wrist, before it is anywhere close to him.

“No. Really try to hit me. Try properly.” He leans in close. “Fight me.”

Penny drops

I jab at him, hard, aiming for his face. He dodges, swinging head and shoulders to one side, and I try again. This time he again catches hold of my wrist and I try with the other arm to hit him. Now he has me by both wrists.

“Fight me,” he hisses, pushing me towards the bed.

I struggle and squirm, but strong and fit as I am, I am no match for Michael. He is broadly built and muscular, far more powerful than I. Digging in my heels, making him work all the way, nonetheless, he gradually drags me towards the bed.

I change tack, swinging my weight the other way, pulling him off balance. I hook a foot around his ankle, and he falls, taking me with him and we thump down together on the deep carpet. My breath knocked out of me for a moment, I gasp and heave, as does Michael, then I scrabble to get away. He grabs me by an ankle, pulling me back, rolling on top of me, pinning me down with his body.

Panting, I gaze up at him. His pupils are wide as he looks down at me, trapped beneath him. He eyes me, my hair tousled, a flush of arousal running up over my stomach and breasts. Nodding he says. “Now, that’s the look.”

I struggle, but holding my wrists in one hand, he pushes my arms over my head, reaching around with the other to untie my bikini top.

With a heave, I catch him unexpectedly and almost throw him off me, but again, he catches me, this time by my long hair, looping it around his hand for a firm grip, then climbing atop me once more.

He pulls my head around to face him, eyeing me calculatingly for a moment. “Yes, that’s it.” Then, reaching down with his spare hand, undoes his belt, sliding it out from the loops of his jeans. Grabbing first my left wrist, then the right, he loops the belt around, pulling it tight, binding me. I see him glancing around, settling on the pipework to a radiator, fixed to a wall. Looping the belt around that too, he has my hands fixed.

I am panting wildly, my chest heaving. Perspiring and hot, my pussy is afire.

Michael reaches around me again, untying my bikini top. But, my arms tied, the shoulder straps won’t come free. He simply takes each in his hands, snapping it apart in strong fingers.

I protest. “Michael… my clothes…”

“Fuck it. I’ll buy you another. It’s worth it to see that expression on your face…” He reaches down, and fingers looped through my bikini bottom, again literally rips it apart and pulls it off me, leaving me naked and bound.

This is a side of him I’ve not seen before...

He wants me to fight him?

I lock my ankles together. He hasn’t won yet.

Michael stands, towering over me. Methodically, he strips off his shirt and jeans. His erection is huge. He is seriously turned on.

Then he notices my locked ankles, my tightly clamped thighs. “Really?” he comments, then vanishes off, somewhere out of my sight.

He returns, seconds later, with …

There is a buzz.

Oh, God...

Michael takes his vibrating egg, fiddling with it for a second. The buzz gets louder. “Low power only for now,” he says. Then he pushes it between my thighs, squeezing it over my sweat slickened skin, in and down... and in...

No amount of tightening or pressure from me will stop this. The smooth, slippery object simply glides past my skin. He inserts it inside me, pushing it deeply in, until my whole pussy and core are humming in resonance with it, setting me a-tremble.

Oh, God...

I’ll leave you to get used to that for a minute. Don’t go away.”

He returns, this time with rope. “You didn’t think I came here without everything we might need?”

The rope is the kind of soft silken stuff that works well on skin, binding without digging in, but the length of it…

What is he going to do?

He glances around the room, then I see him measuring with his eye the space between the wall I am tied to, and the foot of the bed.

He grabs my locked ankles. “I could just prise you open you know,” he says, “force my cock inside you. But I’ll have more fun this way.”

The vibe inside me is in fact, making it very difficult for me to keep my legs together. My pelvis is shuddering and shaking, my pussy liquefying.

He seizes me by my locked ankles, pulling me straight, squaring me up to the foot of the bed.  Looping one end of the rope around an ankle, he tugs at it, to slide it between my feet.