"Keep the candle up your asshole," he ordered her.
She stood, having to bend forward at the waist a little to keep the pain down to a level she could cope with. The feel of that waxy shaft going up into her asshole caused more pain than she would have thought possible. The flame was out but the pain lingered to haunt her.
"Good," said Mr. Stanton. "You have done adequately so far. If you continue to please me, perhaps you can win some little favor in my eyes. Perhaps."
Sheryle looked at the black-robed man and wondered if that was even a possibility. He seemed so independent, so self-contained. He was the perfect rock, unshaken by anything going on in the world. She loved his strength while hating it at the same time.
If only he didn't treat her like shit.
"Go and dress. Your clothing awaits you. And remember – pleasure me and you will win favor."
He spun and quickly left the room. Sheryle stood, unsure off what to do. She looked down at Michael, still chained flat on the floor. His prick was limp and a tiny puddle of jism had formed directly under it. She wanted to try and release him but the thought came to her that this wouldn't be the right way to win favor with Mr. Stanton.
If he had wanted Michael turned loose, he would have done it himself.
"Goodbye, Michael. I… I'd better go and dress."
"Wait!" the youth called out. "You can't leave me like this!"
But she did. She was already through the door and heading for the luxurious bedroom where she had originally lost her cherry. She had come to think of it as "hers", although nothing in the house belonged to anyone except Mr. Stanton. He was lord and master and in complete control.
The young girl shivered at the thought of how complete his control actually was. She and Michael had tried to escape. It was as if he had been waiting for them. Perhaps they had given him a moment's enjoyment at their futile efforts. The huge dogs with the big teeth kept her from ever trying to escape again, at least until she thought of a way to bypass the animals. She knew what they could do.
Stanton would let the dogs loose, too. And he would probably get his rocks off watching the dogs rip her throat out.
She shivered even more and went to see what she should wear. There was never any question. Stanton provided all her clothing, but the choice was never left up to her. In the closet hung one simple dress. Nothing else.
This was what she would wear. She never bothered to reason out how the single garment appeared or disappeared. She only accepted it mutely. Stanton controlled everything in this mansion. Sheryle guessed that a lot of the mysterious events were handled automatically, maybe even governed by a computer.
Like the doors. They had slammed shut at precisely the right instant to keep her from leaving the house. And as she roamed, some doors would open and others would be locked, but not always the same ones. Usually the room held some erotic adventure that Stanton wanted to live out.
She slipped into the peasant dress, wondering if she should remove the candle from her ass. She decided against it. Stanton hadn't told her she could take it out. While it made her walk awkwardly, the pain a constant reminder of what she had been put through already, she kept her shoulders back and tried to walk in as dignified a manner as possible. Let the bastard think he wasn't getting to her! She walked down the stairs and into the dining room, the only possible path for her since the other doors along the way were locked.
Sheryle had thought she was immune to shock. She had survived so much at the hands of the evil man that another added bit of pain, another small whipping, one further degradation, wouldn't bother her at all.
What she saw in the room stunned her. The table was set for a full course meal, but the lampshades seemed to be made of human skin. She went to one and looked more carefully. She swallowed hard. The pink dots she thought were buttons were really a woman's nipples. Her tits had been skinned and made into lampshades. She had heard of such things being done during the war by the Nazis, but she had never thought it was possible.
Pleasing Mr. Stanton took on new dimensions now. Whether this was the real thing or not, she wanted to keep her skin both intact and on her bones. When he said he would strip the flesh from her body, he might have meant that literally. She didn't want to find out.
He entered the room and pulled her attention away from the evil lampshades. In spite of the things she had been thinking about the grim man, she found herself admiring him. So powerful in his black garb, he had a multicolored cape swirling around his shoulders. He might have been some king come to dinner. He looked so regal – and commanding.
"Seat me!" he ordered.
She hastened to hold the chair for him as he cast off the brilliantly colored robe and seated himself.
"Feed." And she did. One little morsel at a time, with her fingers. He seemed not to want her to use the gold plated knives, forks and spoons on the table. She put each morsel into his mouth with the tips of her fingers.
Once his hand grabbed her wrist and held the fingers to his mouth. Slowly, carefully, he sucked each and every one of her fingers, licking and stroking them with his tongue.
She felt her desire growing for this odd man, this commanding man who could twist her up inside and give her pleasure and pain in the same motion.
"Is the candle still where I placed it?" he asked suddenly.
Surprised, Sheryle could only nod her head, a cascade of red hair falling into her eyes. She had never thought he would ask such a question. But she was now glad that she hadn't removed it. If she had, she might be severely punished. A quick glance around the room convinced her that she didn't want to anger this man. Not now, not ever.
"Dance for me. Show me the candle while you do so."
Her eyes sparkled. This was more like it. He wanted a sexy, seductive dance from her. She would deliver. And maybe he would grant her just one more time on the end of his prick. How she needed that cock fucking her hungry cunt. The fucking with Michael had been more pain than it had been pleasure. But the fires of her lust had been built. Now was the time to allow them to spring forth and consume her entire body!
She danced away, spinning and whirling. She didn't know exactly how to please the man. About all the dancing she really knew was disco style. She didn't think he would be all that interested in that. Sheryle decided to fake it.
The teenager knew the penalty for failure.
Soft strains of musk seeped into the roam from unseen speakers. She found herself getting caught up in the music, dancing so that her movements were in time. Wiggling sinuously, she began stripping off the simple dress that Stanton had left for her.
She wiggled her shoulders so that they were both bare. Leaning forward, facing the man, she made sure her tits danced around more than the rest of her body. They jiggled like mounds of firm jello on a plate. Another quick motion caused the dress to slip down to her waist, but by this time, she had turned her back to the man. She had no idea how he was reacting, but she knew she was getting hotter all the time. The teenager didn't see how the man could be impassive in the face of her naked body.
Her hips twitching, she pulled the dress lower and lower. He hadn't given her any panties. Nothing but naked assflesh gleamed in the light. She bent forward, her ass aimed directly at the man. Protruding from her ass was the butt end of the candle he had rammed up there an hour earlier.
On impulse, she reached back and pulled it free with a tiny little plop. The relief she felt was almost enough to make her come. She hadn't realized how the lack of pain could be so sexually potent.
Turning back to face the man at the table, she spread her legs wide, her pussy gleaming like copper wire in the light. Slowly, teasingly, she brought the candle up and pressed it firmly into her cuntlips. She began to wiggle, shoving her hips down while the candle remained at the same height above the floor. She was fucking herself on the candle.
And it surprised her. It felt good – damned good – up her twat. The hollow ache was gone now. She knew this wasn't anywhere near as good as having a man's prick shoved all the way up her cunt, but it would have to do. The music soothed her and excited her at the same time.
She forgot all about Stanton. She danced to please herself. Masturbating faster now, she pulled the candle out of her pussy with a lewd squishy noise. It was big enough around to give her the full impact. Re-inserting it, she shuddered to a climax by ramming it deep into her belly and lightly flicking her fingers across her cunt.
The girl had heard her friends in school talk about how they all got off by themselves. She bet none of them had ever danced naked for a man and fucked herself with a candle!
She felt the sexual need mounting inside her again. Closing her eyes, she thrust her hips down repeatedly onto the waxy shaft of the candle. Panting, gasping for air, she fucked herself harder and faster until her body heat began to melt the candle. Her juices dripped out around the thick plug and onto her hands. For some reason, this got her off harder than anything else she had done.
Sheryle felt as if she were floating in the air – and suddenly she was. Strong hands clamped at her slender waist and lifted her entirely off the floor. Her eyes opened dreamily to see Mr. Stanton holding her. It was as she had thought. He had reached the point of arousal from her nude dancing and masturbation that didn't allow him to simply sit and watch.
But what would he do to her? She quickly found out. He dropped her over the back of a chair, the wooden back cutting into her belly. The air rushed from her lungs. By the time she had regained her breath, she felt the man's hands working swiftly at her ankles. He was binding her securely to the chair legs.
Straightening up, she glanced down and saw that both of her ankles were firmly fastened to the chair. Before she could turn, he looped a strand of cotton rope around her neck and pulled her forward. He allowed her about a foot of slack – but that was it. She was firmly tied to the chair, her hands still free.
"Wh-what're you going to do to me?" she stammered. But the teenager knew. In this position, bent double over the chair, her naked ass jutting up into the air, her legs tied wide apart, there could be only one thing he had in mind.
She wasn't disappointed.
She felt his prick ram hard between the globes of her asscheeks. He probed hard for her asshole. The girl almost passed out when he raced all the way up her spine. The shock of feeling his huge prick throbbing inside her tightest passage made her gasp for air.
Being bent over the chair didn't help her either. And when he began fucking her, using long, powerful strokes, she felt as if she were going to be cut in two. But there was no way she could move to take the impact of his heavy body against her soft ass.
Struggling to get her legs free proved useless. He had tied her down too well. And the rope around her neck prevented her from tossing her head from side to side. She was firmly secured and could only endure what the man did to her.
Not that being butt-fucked by him was all that bad. If only his prick had been better lubricated!
"Please, you're ripping me apart. My asshole is burning up from the friction. Do something!"
He said nothing, hut she felt the tempo of the fucking change, slowing down to a more gradual pace. Dishes clicked on the table and then she felt an oozing gob of butter dribbling between her asscheeks. It was a slippery, nice feeling, one that turned her on almost as much as the lunging prick did.
"Ummm, nice," she moaned. "So nice having your cock well-oiled now."
Still the man refused to reply. He let his cock do all the answering for him. With it nicely oiled now, he slammed harder and harder into her body. She felt her asscheeks flattened every time he jerked forward to bury his prick. The man started to corkscrew himself into her butt with a rotary motion that drove the girl wild.
The candle was still thrust all the way up her pussy. With both it and the cock inside, she was getting a turn-on unlike anything she had ever felt before. It had been interesting when she had been forced to fuck herself on Michael's cock, the burning candle rammed all the way up her backside.
But this was different. The sensations in her young, trim body were new and wonderful. It was almost as if two men were fucking her at the same time.
Best of all, she was tied down. She could allow herself to let go totally. No amount of thrashing about was going to help her at all. She wasn't responsible for the man greeking her. As the victim of the anal rape, she could do nothing to stop him.
Memories of past experiences rushed to her mind. The trucker fucking her up the ass had been her first time really. And having done it, she wanted more. The candle trick hadn't turned her on all that much. She had been too engrossed with the fire licking away at her tender skin. Now that the candle was gone, replaced by a hot and hard prick, she loved it.
She couldn't get enough. But she was smart enough not to tell Stanton this. If he thought she liked this, that she wasn't feeling degraded, he would stop and find some way of humiliating her. And that method might not give her the sensual thrills that she felt mounting in her body right now.
"Cunt, bitch, whore, slut!" he screamed, his body working faster and faster. She felt his hairy thighs grinding into her tender ass. The skin of her behind had been whipped and burned, tortured and tormented until the lightest touch was agony. But it was agony mixed with stark desire. She loved the feel of his huge prick forcing its way up into her bowels. She was filled to overflowing. This had been the way she'd gotten it the first time she had been fucked and the teenager couldn't get enough.
Trying to ram her hips back proved impossible. She was too tightly roped to the chair. Her head was about all the was free. Tossing it up and down, to the full length of the cord he had allowed her, gave the girl enough leverage so that she could get his prick an extra half inch up her tight, clinging ass.
It wasn't much, but it was enough. She came, hard. Her entire body trembled in reaction to his prick. She writhed about, not caring what she did or said.
"Fuck my butt, fuck me goood!" she moaned out. "Give it all to me. Give me that sweet prick of yours hard. Hurt meeee! Hurt me baaaaddd!"
A new dimension was added to the fucking. She still felt his veined prick throbbing hotly up her back, but the man had reached around her and held onto the end of the candle up her cunt. Savagely jerking at this, he was able to fuck her up the cunt at the same time his prick drove mercilessly into her ass.
"Harlot!" he shouted. "Feel my power inside you! Relish the feel of my cock. It is a magic wand and will change you into a quivering mass of screaming flesh!"
"Aieeeee!"
It was almost as if he had planned it that way. The powerful stroke and the grinding motion of his hips came at the same time when the young teenager was on the brink of orgasm. He got her off by slamming the candle even deeper into her seething hot pussy.
She felt the candle pressing into his prick through her guts. The cock strained to press back but the inanimate object seemed to be the most rigid. No matter how steely the prick, it always seemed to bend a little once it entered her body.
The man seemed to realize this. He shouted out in anger, then began fucking her so fast he burned away the butter he had used to lubricate her ass. Her flesh burned. Her insides turned to jelly. He hammered harder and faster into her body until she was sure she would have a permanent crease across her belly from the chair back.
"I'm comminnnng!" he bellowed.
She shrieked at the feel of the hot jizz blasting into her bowels. It wasn't enough to get her off, but the motion of the candle in and out of her pussy was. She came as the man continued to bury his cock all the way up her tiny asshole.
But the candle fell from her cunt and the man's prick melted all too soon. All that was left for the redhead was the same hollow feeling she had started with. There had to be more. There had to be!
"Mr. Stanton – master – please! Don't stop. Do it to me some more!"
But she pleaded with an empty room. The man had left her tied to the chair, her ass protruding nakedly up into the air. She was tied and helpless and now her worst fears had been realized.
She was all alone.