Forced to be Used. Part 2.

Her head throbbed as she began to rouse, waking up with her heartbeat thumping in her skull. Maddison opened her eyes and groaned in pain. She’d never had a hangover this bad before. At least, that’s what she thought until she tried to sit up.

‘What the fuck?’ She blurted out, as her hands were snagged down, unable to be shifted. Suddenly her grogginess was gone, as she strained her neck trying to see what was happening.

This room wasn’t hers. It was large and dimly lit, a small old fluorescent bulb flickering in the corner. No windows, but a set of stairs to the far right leading up. The room was mostly bare, other than some basic tools, a cupboard, desk and chair. And the bed she was on. Not just on, but tied down to.

‘What the hell?!’ She cried again, panic now rising in her voice. Her wrists were bound with thick leather straps, only giving her enough room squirm. Her legs were tied too, one to each bed post. She was stripped bare other than her blouse, which barely covered to her upper thighs. No panties, no bra, no skirt.

Panic rose in her throat as she squirmed against her binds. Kicking her legs the small amount she could, jerking her wrists to try and slip free. Her fear consumer her, making her feel sick and her eyes wet.

‘Please! Please let me out!’ She cried, over and over, straining and thrashing on the bed. Soon her voice was breaking and her wrists and ankles rubbed raw. She’d screamed until her voice gave out, just in time someone to open the door to the stairs and step in.

Heavy footsteps down the stairs made her fall silent, other than soft sniffles. She was terrified. Who was this person? What were they going to do with her?

‘Hush now pet’ His deep gravely voice filled the room as he stepped closer. She remembered now, the alley, being thrown against the wall, stripped down and raped. Fear welled in her throat, making her stomach tighten and tears flow freely.

‘No, no not you!’ She cried out as he stepped out of the shadow, her voice croaky and shaken. His tall, hulking frame stood over her. She remembered his voice, the touch of his beard against the soft skin of her neck, his hands around her throat.

‘Now, that’s no way to greet your host’ He said lightly, almost like her fear was a joke to him. He now stood next to her on the bed, staring down at her with a smirk covering his face. A small bag that he held he placed on the floor, his eyes never leaving hers.

He wasted no time at all, his rough hands began to run up her leg, roaming to the inside of her thigh as he went. She squirmed at his touch, feeling vulnerable and exposed. From where he stood, slightly further back than her waist, she knew he could see under her blouse. Her skin prickled as his hand slid across the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, nearing her sex.

She was still sore, bruised and hurt from his first attack. Was that last night? A a day ago? She had no way to tell how long she had been unconscious, the darkness of a cellar leaving no clues. All she knew was that her body still ached, and she still had his dried seed on her thighs.

‘Mm, remember this?’ He crooned almost sickly sweetly.