Making the Marquis
folder
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
9,752
Reviews:
30
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
9,752
Reviews:
30
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Strangers in the Night
I’m going to die of a stroke! Lauren thought as her heart felt like it was beating out of her chest.
She screamed and struggled against the hand muffling her mouth.
And that voice!
There was something about that voice that was so familiar. Very deep and elegant. And wasn’t there a slight French accent in his intonated words?
The bedroom was black, pitch black. She could not see her attacker at all. Yet that did not stop him from tying a blindfold over her eyes, even as she fought him. He was as strong as an ox and easily subdued her.
“Hush, sweet!” the accoster said. “You wouldn’t want to wake that enchanting child in the next room. That would spoil all of our fun now, wouldn’t it?”
Oh, God! The baby! The thought that something might happen to poor little Dottie made Lauren frantic as she felt him tie her wrists together with a coarse sort of rope.
“Please…” she begged. “Don’t hurt the baby…please…”
“I am no murderer or pedophile, madame!” the voice said. “And I resent the implication. As long as you spread those sweet thighs and cooperate, we should get along without any unpleasantness. Agreed?”
The weight of a male body pressed against her as he somehow secured her wrists to the bedframe. What was that exotic cologne he was wearing? Aside from that, he smelled of horses and brandy and cigars. Odd for her to be contemplating the odors of her soon-to-be rapist!
She could not see the clock for his blindfold, but she guessed it was around 9:00 pm.
“My husband will be home soon!” she threatened. “And if he finds you here, he will kick your ass!”
“All the more need for us to be expedient then, my dear...” She heard him rip off her silk night shirt, the buttons popping off one at a time. “I find duels to be such a bore, don’t you?”
The feel of his mouth against her exposed breasts made her writhe. She sensed long hair brushing against her flesh. The stubble on his face tickled and irritated her when she felt it rub against one of her nipples.
He let out a satisfied husky moan as his hands moved over her everywhere.
“You are so soft and sweet...so intoxicating. I knew that you would be.”
What did he mean? Did this man know her from somewhere? She tried to remember anyone she knew who was a Frenchman.
But her musings did not last long as she was distracted by his hungry mouth suckling one breast and then the other. His lips and tongue immediately sparked off one sweet sensation after another. And she was ashamed to feel an intense ache heating up in her groin. Only she would be so sexually frustrated that she was turned on by a criminal rapist!
And it wasn’t supposed to happen this way, was it? Rape was more about violence than sex. That is what she had always heard, at any rate. Wasn’t this guy supposed to spout all kinds of lewd profanities and take her up the ass while beating the crap out of her? That’s what they usually did in the movies. But as he persisted at tonguing her nipples, he stroked his hands all along her exposed naked tied-up body, building up her pleasure. Well, she had a considerate rapist, at least...
What was she thinking? She was feeding into every horrible stereotype that the Women’s Movement had worked so hard at dispelling. Enjoying the touch of the man who was violating her fed into all of those excuses rapists use. All of those trite phrases like “You know you wanted it...” But God help her, she did want it...she did...she did...
She jerked when she felt fingers slide into her pussy. Her warm wetness was shamefully obvious.
“So eager for a good fucking, are we? I cannot bear to leave a damsel in distress.”
This man knew his way around a vagina! He was rubbing her in all of the right places at just the right pace. In fact, so far he was doing everything right!
“But you had a head start, didn’t you?” he whispered in her ear as he kept on with his maddening fingers. “Getting yourself all wet and hot with those naughty little tales that you write? I bet if I hadn’t arrived, you would have touched yourself down there until you would have exploded, wouldn’t you?”
She felt his hand stroke one of her own captive ones.
“No hair on the palms yet, I see. But never fear, my dear. The Marquis is here...”
Now I get it, Lauren thought. One of her stories, sort of a pre-cursor to the “Marquis de Marais” series she was currently writing, had been published in an erotic anthology. Obviously, a stalker got a hold of it and was doing a fine job at being her Number One Fan. It all made sense. The bondage and the eloquent speech and the accent...
“Look,” she started. “I’m flattered that you read my work. And that it’s moved you to such a degree but...”
She stopped when she felt the man take her hips in his hands, pulling her up from the bed.
“...But you have to understand. I write fiction. Erotic fiction. And in this concept of ‘fiction’, this stuff is all make-believe. People really should not abduct each other and tie each other up and...”
She gasped as his tongue began to bury itself deep inside of her rhythmically.
“...And it’s all just fantasy, you know. I mean, in real life, it’s dangerous for us all just to fuck each other like maniacs and...Oh, God!”
Her lecture on reality died when his tongue started to circle and suckle on her clitoris.
“Oh, God!” Lauren cried out, feeling an orgasm the size of a tidal wave heading in her direction. “Oh, God! Oh, God!”
She shrieked repeatedly when the pleasure hit, causing her thighs to shake, causing her to thrust up violently into his cruel mouth, causing her to gasp for breath, causing her to pull at her bindings and make the headstand of the bed shake, causing her to feel like there was nothing else in the world but this...
On and on it went until he had wrung out every tremor from her ravished body with his mouth...
“Honey, I’m home!”
With the speed of lightning, she felt her hips plop back onto the mattress. A blade ripped through the rope around her wrists and through the back of her blindfold. A blanket was pulled over her nakedness. Her bindings were swept away. She heard a swirl of something like fabric.
Then nothing.
About a minute or so later, the bedroom light switched on.
Jack, her husband, stood at the door of the bedroom.
“Are you feeling okay, sweetie?” he asked with narrowed eyes as he started to take his shirt off.
“Wha...?”
“You look kind of hot and sweaty. Do you have a fever?”
Trying to control her harsh breathing, she motioned for a window.
“Too hot...”
“I’ll get it, honey.”
As Jack opened up a window, he proceeded to tell her about his day at work, about what plans they would make for his day off, about the latest movie he wanted to try to see if they could get a babysitter...
But his words faded out of hearing when Lauren fell into a deep sleep...or was it a shocked swoon? She never truly knew.
She screamed and struggled against the hand muffling her mouth.
And that voice!
There was something about that voice that was so familiar. Very deep and elegant. And wasn’t there a slight French accent in his intonated words?
The bedroom was black, pitch black. She could not see her attacker at all. Yet that did not stop him from tying a blindfold over her eyes, even as she fought him. He was as strong as an ox and easily subdued her.
“Hush, sweet!” the accoster said. “You wouldn’t want to wake that enchanting child in the next room. That would spoil all of our fun now, wouldn’t it?”
Oh, God! The baby! The thought that something might happen to poor little Dottie made Lauren frantic as she felt him tie her wrists together with a coarse sort of rope.
“Please…” she begged. “Don’t hurt the baby…please…”
“I am no murderer or pedophile, madame!” the voice said. “And I resent the implication. As long as you spread those sweet thighs and cooperate, we should get along without any unpleasantness. Agreed?”
The weight of a male body pressed against her as he somehow secured her wrists to the bedframe. What was that exotic cologne he was wearing? Aside from that, he smelled of horses and brandy and cigars. Odd for her to be contemplating the odors of her soon-to-be rapist!
She could not see the clock for his blindfold, but she guessed it was around 9:00 pm.
“My husband will be home soon!” she threatened. “And if he finds you here, he will kick your ass!”
“All the more need for us to be expedient then, my dear...” She heard him rip off her silk night shirt, the buttons popping off one at a time. “I find duels to be such a bore, don’t you?”
The feel of his mouth against her exposed breasts made her writhe. She sensed long hair brushing against her flesh. The stubble on his face tickled and irritated her when she felt it rub against one of her nipples.
He let out a satisfied husky moan as his hands moved over her everywhere.
“You are so soft and sweet...so intoxicating. I knew that you would be.”
What did he mean? Did this man know her from somewhere? She tried to remember anyone she knew who was a Frenchman.
But her musings did not last long as she was distracted by his hungry mouth suckling one breast and then the other. His lips and tongue immediately sparked off one sweet sensation after another. And she was ashamed to feel an intense ache heating up in her groin. Only she would be so sexually frustrated that she was turned on by a criminal rapist!
And it wasn’t supposed to happen this way, was it? Rape was more about violence than sex. That is what she had always heard, at any rate. Wasn’t this guy supposed to spout all kinds of lewd profanities and take her up the ass while beating the crap out of her? That’s what they usually did in the movies. But as he persisted at tonguing her nipples, he stroked his hands all along her exposed naked tied-up body, building up her pleasure. Well, she had a considerate rapist, at least...
What was she thinking? She was feeding into every horrible stereotype that the Women’s Movement had worked so hard at dispelling. Enjoying the touch of the man who was violating her fed into all of those excuses rapists use. All of those trite phrases like “You know you wanted it...” But God help her, she did want it...she did...she did...
She jerked when she felt fingers slide into her pussy. Her warm wetness was shamefully obvious.
“So eager for a good fucking, are we? I cannot bear to leave a damsel in distress.”
This man knew his way around a vagina! He was rubbing her in all of the right places at just the right pace. In fact, so far he was doing everything right!
“But you had a head start, didn’t you?” he whispered in her ear as he kept on with his maddening fingers. “Getting yourself all wet and hot with those naughty little tales that you write? I bet if I hadn’t arrived, you would have touched yourself down there until you would have exploded, wouldn’t you?”
She felt his hand stroke one of her own captive ones.
“No hair on the palms yet, I see. But never fear, my dear. The Marquis is here...”
Now I get it, Lauren thought. One of her stories, sort of a pre-cursor to the “Marquis de Marais” series she was currently writing, had been published in an erotic anthology. Obviously, a stalker got a hold of it and was doing a fine job at being her Number One Fan. It all made sense. The bondage and the eloquent speech and the accent...
“Look,” she started. “I’m flattered that you read my work. And that it’s moved you to such a degree but...”
She stopped when she felt the man take her hips in his hands, pulling her up from the bed.
“...But you have to understand. I write fiction. Erotic fiction. And in this concept of ‘fiction’, this stuff is all make-believe. People really should not abduct each other and tie each other up and...”
She gasped as his tongue began to bury itself deep inside of her rhythmically.
“...And it’s all just fantasy, you know. I mean, in real life, it’s dangerous for us all just to fuck each other like maniacs and...Oh, God!”
Her lecture on reality died when his tongue started to circle and suckle on her clitoris.
“Oh, God!” Lauren cried out, feeling an orgasm the size of a tidal wave heading in her direction. “Oh, God! Oh, God!”
She shrieked repeatedly when the pleasure hit, causing her thighs to shake, causing her to thrust up violently into his cruel mouth, causing her to gasp for breath, causing her to pull at her bindings and make the headstand of the bed shake, causing her to feel like there was nothing else in the world but this...
On and on it went until he had wrung out every tremor from her ravished body with his mouth...
“Honey, I’m home!”
With the speed of lightning, she felt her hips plop back onto the mattress. A blade ripped through the rope around her wrists and through the back of her blindfold. A blanket was pulled over her nakedness. Her bindings were swept away. She heard a swirl of something like fabric.
Then nothing.
About a minute or so later, the bedroom light switched on.
Jack, her husband, stood at the door of the bedroom.
“Are you feeling okay, sweetie?” he asked with narrowed eyes as he started to take his shirt off.
“Wha...?”
“You look kind of hot and sweaty. Do you have a fever?”
Trying to control her harsh breathing, she motioned for a window.
“Too hot...”
“I’ll get it, honey.”
As Jack opened up a window, he proceeded to tell her about his day at work, about what plans they would make for his day off, about the latest movie he wanted to try to see if they could get a babysitter...
But his words faded out of hearing when Lauren fell into a deep sleep...or was it a shocked swoon? She never truly knew.