by Serena Jones

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Reluctant, Science Fiction, BDSM, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Inspired by the Greek myth. I'm not sure how to catagorize this one - one friend called it fantasy, another called it horror. If anyone has any useful ideas, please feel free to comment.

Cassi woke, stiff and tried to move only to find herself bound, blindfolded. It took a few minutes to position herself.

In a chair. Legs to legs, arms to arms.

"Well at least I'm not upside down." She thought mournfully.

She was nude, she noticed, and a cool breeze blew across her body. It made her nipples harden and her pussy clinch even as it fanned her anxiety. Who put her here? What were they going to do?

She listened but couldn't hear anything. Not even a vent for the breeze. So, indoors then, she reasoned, and no window nearby.

Who did this?

She could feel her heart racing suddenly. She pulled against the bonds; they didn't budge. "Hello?" she ventured softly. "Hello?" She knew no-one was out there but she thought she'd try.

She waited, listening and breathing heavily. Nothing happened.

Stay calm, she told herself. Stay calm. Whom ever it is, what they want is panic. They want me to be scared. But right now, there's nothing to be scared of. It just an empty room. Stay calm. Stay calm.

It didn't work but repeating the words to herself kept her from dwelling on other ideas - like what they plan to do to her eventually - whoever 'they' turned out to be.

She woke suddenly - suddenly aware that she had drifted to sleep, suddenly aware of the scarf tied over her mouth. Muffling even the loudest of attempts to make noise. She couldn't open her lips.

She panicked and struggled against the bonds until she sat there breathing heavily and crying in frustration.

Then, something whispered in her ear. A voice. Soft. Give, it said, Give. There was no warmth with it, no feeling of a body beside it. Just the vague presence of a voice saying 'Give'. Which only served to panic her more.

Something soft touched her calf. Her knee. Her thigh. She tried to kick but her legs remained securely tied to the chair. It wasn't a hand; that much she could tell. The touch was too light. But it didn't feel like an object either. It was pressure and the absence of the breeze the still cooled the rest of her skin.

Give, the voice said again. The touch moved up her thigh and she trembled. Rape. Whom ever this was wanted to rape her. She tried to move again but still she was securely tied.

Maybe it won't be so bad her told herself. Pretend it's a fantasy. But she couldn't stop shaking or crying. She was tied and gagged and blindfolded. She was going to be one of those bodies you see in the news - found in some forgotten place with parts missing and evidence of sexual crimes.

Give. The voice kept saying. Give. But she couldn't; give what? Give how? Then again, maybe this was better. This way she didn't know when the final moment would come.

The touch moved up. Her stomach. Her breast. Her shoulder. It had no warmth of it's own. A trick? A ghost? Aliens? Cassi found herself praying that they would do it quickly and painlessly. Of course, why do all this if it was going to be painless?

It touched her cheek. Give. The voice said. There was a scent, familiar but elusive. Maybe that will help me later, Cassi thought, If I survive this. Maybe, if I can figure that much out, it will help. She sniffed as the touch moved to her other cheek and moved down her body in the slow methodical way it had moved up.

It was earthy, animal. Not good but not really bad either. She sniffed again. A drug. Something to intoxicate her. A little sweet, maybe a little sweaty? She breathed it deeply and finally identified it.

Sex. The smell of some one nearby having sex. And yet, she couldn't hear a thing. But once she identified it, she felt her body begin to betray her and respond to the smell. Rape isn't about pleasure, she reminder herself. Then she thought, maybe I can steal that much away. Maybe if I enjoy it, I'll cheat them and they won't get whatever sick fun they want out of this. At least if I'm going to die, I'll do it on my terms. She tried the bonds again. She was still secure.

The touch moved away and the voice as well but the smell remained. It became stronger. It seemed to her that they must be pumping it in from somewhere because to be that strong, she'd have to be in the middle of an orgy.

She couldn't stop her mind from wandering.

She liked sex. She liked the activities that created the scents around her. She tried not to let her daughter or her husband catch her many lovers. But she had no intention of stopping her affairs. Her husband was too distant, too cold and she was too young, too beautiful to not take part in something that made her feel so good. And made her such a good living. Interior design was what she claimed her occupation was and she did have one or two clients who paid solely for her artistic eye.

But most were men who - in the guise of needing design services - used her body in ways their wives wouldn't let them.

Maybe it's one of them, she thought. Someone jealous. Or psychotic. Or her husband finally discovered her real source of funds and wants revenge. Stop teasing, she tried to scream. Kill me or fuck me or whatever, just do it!

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Story tagged with:
Reluctant / Science Fiction / BDSM /