Page 50 of Save Me
My eyes nearly pop out of my head. The thought of doing such a thing brings a taste of bile to my mouth and has me remembering anxious nightmares of doing such an act in front of an audience. Nightmares I’ve always woken up from and thanked the Lord that it was all just a bad dream. I’ve never consciously done anything like this before; I’m not even sure I can.
“Begin by stroking those beautiful breasts of yours,” he says with a teasing chuckle, most likely having guessed at the fact that this is going far beyond my comfort zone. “Now, Beth, do it now!”
I begin stroking my skin, which does very little for me in terms of my own arousal, but if it means he remains inside of that chair, and away from me, I’ll do it.
“Yes, now squeeze those nipples. Pretend it’s me touching you,” he continues as his eyes becomes somewhat hooded and much darker than usual. They remind me of the violent storm from last week when I was trying to recover from my last encounter with this man. It’s unnerving and I struggle to keep up with the movements that are meant to be making this sexual and pleasurable. I begin to worry that he won’t be satisfied and will want to take over himself. In a panic, I begin to picture being in my own bed, in my own room, with Xander and his hands on me instead of my own. I think back to the way he touched me in the safety of my bed. I imagine what he’ll do to me when I finally get to go home, to lie in his arms, to be kissing him instead of the man before me.
“I’d squeeze and suck harder than that, Beth,” he snaps in warning. “Now I’d move my hand slowly down your stomach, right into those little white panties you’re wearing. Do it, Beth!”
As I do what he says I begin to pant, picturing Xander’s hands on my body, touching and caressing me. I find myself arching my back to meet my hand with more of a desperate need, chasing that release from my boyfriend, from Xander. Oliver hisses as I quicken my pace between the lips of my sex, and with the sound of my own arousal becoming more and more obvious.
“Fuck, yes! Harder, Beth, make me make you come!”
He’s no longer there, it’s just me and Xander, exploring one other, grabbing at each other with lustful urges, readying ourselves to become completely lost inside of one another’s hunger. I moan when a climax begins to build, which soon turns into a pitched gasp. I should feel embarrassed, but I don’t because it’s not me doing this, it’s Xander.
“Oh…” I cry as I reach the edge of no return.
“Yes, Beth, let it go, give it to me!” Oliver shouts from across the room, almost humping the chair that he’s straddling.
“Oh…Xander!” I scream as I fall over that climatic ledge, straight into a blinding orgasm where nothing and nobody else matters.
“Who.The.Fuck.Is.Xander?!” Oliver growls with such anger, I am instantly terrified, even post-orgasm. His bared, clenched teeth are mere inches away from my face, but all I can do is stare back at him. I am too terrified of the rage swimming inside of those stormy eyes to utter a single word of explanation or apology. “WHO IS HE?!”
I jump at his words, just before he grabs hold of my chin and presses his fingers into my skin so hard, I yelp. The next few moments happen so rapidly I can barely keep up with it. His hand refuses to relinquish his grip on my face, while his other begins to reach for his belt, fumbling at the buckle before attacking the buttons of his trousers.
“If you’ve been fucking some other asshole, I may as well just take you right here, right now!”
He desperately tries to undo his trousers at the same time as holding on to me. My fight or flight instincts kick in and I no longer care about upsetting the angry beast before me, so I start to thrash wildly around beneath him. My insolence earns me a firm slap around the face, no less than three times, causing my nose to swell and leak a trickle of warm blood.
He takes advantage of my momentary stunned reaction by grabbing a curtain rope and binding it tightly around my wrists and one of the posts of his ridiculously ostentatious bed. I am so frightened, I can’t speak; I can only look on in horror as he forces my legs apart and begins to pull down at his boxers in front of me.
“P-please, no!” I eventually manage to cry. “I haven’t, I promise, please, Oliver, no!”
When I scream, he pauses and leans in close to my face. I try to give him my most sincere expression, hoping against all odds that he can see the truth within my wide-open eyes. Before he says or does anything else, he grabs my chin again, causing me to flinch over the sting of where he’s already hurt me.
“If you’re lying, I will fuck you over and over again till you bleed for me too!” he says in such a way, I have no doubt that he isn’t exaggerating. “Stay the fuck here while I call someone.”
I bury my head against my arm, only moving to shudder when the sound of the door slamming hits me like a ton of bricks. Even though I know it’s futile, I desperately try to pull myself free from the rope. However, they obviously teach Mayfield ‘gentlemen’ how to tie impossible knots at charm school, because the more I move, the tighter the restraint becomes. It soon gets to the point where I feel like my wrists are burning. In the end, I growl loudly through my teeth in both frustration and fear, only to eventually give into sobbing without any kind of control over it.
Twenty minutes of desperate bargaining to a God I don’t even believe in later, Oliver bursts through the doors with a much shorter man. He is also overweight and looks to be in his fifties. He scurries along with nervous footsteps, trying to keep up with the man who believes he is the ruler of everything and everyone in his wake. This obviously includes this man who is carrying a small, black, leather case.
As soon as the man’s eyes fall over my practically naked body, now tied up like a prisoner to Oliver’s bed, his shuffled footsteps come to a complete halt, and I see him do a double take of what is right in front of him. I don’t help his anxiety by bursting into fresh fits of tears, however, my own nerves can’t take it anymore. What the hell does he have in store for me now?
“Is this necessary, Mr Lawrence?” the man asks breathlessly, as he gestures toward my restraints in a somewhat apologetic manner. “I’ll need her to lie flat if I’m to do a thorough inspection.”
Oliver tuts loudly, then reluctantly comes to untie my restraints. However, the relief is short-lived for he is soon ordering me to lie flat on the mattress and with my very private area on full display. His narrowing eyes cast accusation all over me before moving aside to let the man come to the side of the bed. I have never felt so frightened or humiliated in my entire life.
“Are you staying, Mr Lawrence?” the man asks, looking somewhat perplexed and embarrassed for me. Oliver keeps his stormy eyes firmly fixed on mine, while he resolutely crosses his arms, and nods in affirmation. “Very well,” the man says, sighing remorsefully for going along with whatever is about to happen to me.
“I’m sorry, my dear,” he apologizes, trying to smile but feeling too uncomfortable to manage it, “but I need you to pull up your knees, then drop them apart.”
“Why?” I ask with a sniff. “What are you doing?”
“Do as you’re told!” Oliver growls with obvious malice and warning in his voice, which I don’t want to argue with.
Hating every second of this, and wishing my mother were here to give both of these arseholes hell for subjecting me to it, I reluctantly drop my knees to the mattress and close my eyes. As soon as my knees hit the sheet, the doctor, who hasn’t even been introduced to me, shines a light and begins to rummage around in a place that should never be touched without permission. Even though he’s very gentle and his actions no different from any other medical exam I’ve had before, I can’t help whimpering to myself.
As soon as he’s finished, I scoot up as fast as I can under the cover and hold it up to my chin in some sort of attempt to hide myself from their prying eyes.