Last Gasp

Chapter One – Chamber of Dreams and Nightmares

The overhead lights burned to life and I surveyed my Chamber.

To one side was a group of steel chairs bolted to the floor, with chains and shackles. In the middle: six padded examination tables with leather straps, purchased from a clinic. They were arranged in a star pattern, the head of every table clustered around a single spot. On the far end: two side-by-side sinks, a large glass water tank seven feet long by four feet wide and a shower stall. Doors lined the Chamber, doors that let to six individual cells. Overhead was a system of motorized hooks, pulleys and tracks that could raise and lower, and move anything to nearly any spot in the Chamber.

The Chamber was underground, with concealed entrances to my living quarters and garage. Years ago it had been used as a bomb shelter by some paranoid survivalist. As such, it was not on any ground plans that anyone knew of. Only a very detailed search would reveal the passages.

The house was registered to John Hannibal. It wasn’t my birth name, but the name I felt most comfortable with.

My eyes fell upon her: my latest acquisition.

Silky red hair, almost auburn, fell well past her thin shoulders. Fine strands, straight and soft. High forehead and cheekbones. Thin lips. A slender swan-like neck, oh so delicate. And, although I couldn’t see them with her blindfold on, eyes that were a blue as vibrant as the sky.

She was chained to the one of the steel chairs on the west side, hands cuffed helplessly behind her back, wearing the tight golden skirt and white blouse that I had appropriated her in. Her shoes were discarded in the corner of the room. Her proud breasts, mounted high upon her chest, were thrust outward, stretching the material of her blouse. Her long, slender legs were clinched together in a vain effort to protect her from what was to come.

Clare Prescott was her name.

The first time I laid eyes upon her, I knew that I had to possess her. For days and weeks, I had watched her, dreamt of her and planned the taking of her. Now, everything had paid off: she was mine.

My gaze traveled up and down her body. Desire burned inside me. Anticipation flared. My cock twitched and grew.

Her head swiveled to look in my direction. The trails of the tears she had shed were visible on her cheeks beneath the blindfold. She had a pale look to her, but still, her beauty was enough to take my breath. I could see that she wanted to speak, but wisely, held her tongue.

After all, what could she say to me, now? What would make any difference about what was going to happen?

I approached and she shrank back at the sound of my steps. I circled her; reached out towards her head to touch those lovely strands.

She jerked back quickly.

Not as cool as she tried to appear, then.

I rested my hands on her shoulders and she sucked in a quick breath. She had such warmth in her flesh and vitality in her body. I could sense the promise of great pleasure in that body. Great and deep. And at the ultimate end, the pleasure would be even greater still.

I slid my padded Master’s Chair in front of her and sat.

“What do you want?” she asked, simply, finally.

“You, Claire,” I answered.

It was, after all, the simple truth. She had set me on this path. The path to carrying out all of my dreams, all of my fantasies. I had risked everything to steal her away from her life; her and the two other prizes I had claimed this night.

I could scarcely believe that she was real, that she was really here.

“Are you ready to fulfill my desires, Claire?”

She shook her head. “No, not that,” she muttered. “This isn’t happening…”

Reaching behind her, I freed her cuffed wrists from the chain. I quickly pulled her to kneel before me.

“No! No!” She struggled suddenly and I grabbed her hair, pulled her head back.

“Deny me and others will pay,” I whispered.

She tensed. “You don’t… you can’t have them, too?”

As I smirked, my eyes were drawn to two bound and helpless girls not more than ten feet away. Hanging from the ceiling, feet just off of the floor, their mouths were gagged and their wrists shackled. They were as nude as the day they were born. They were fine looking girls, tall and slender like their mother, sharing her beauty, if not her coloring.

The older one was a brunette. She had blue eyes filled with hate, eyes that never left me. The younger: a blonde with sea-green irises and a cheerleader’s body.

That one couldn’t meet my gaze.

“Heather? Hannah?” It was a mournful cry that ended in tears.

I kissed Claire’s cheek. I tasted her tears, savored their warmth and wetness.

“Oh, god…”

I pulled her close. The head of my cock touched the bound redhead’s cheek and she jerked back. I pressed my cock to her lips.

“By all means, deny me. I’ll chain you back to the chair and take Hannah. You can listen to what I do to her from here.”

“What do you want?” Claire asked.

“Simple, elemental things, Mrs. Prescott. Your compliance. Your love. Your sweet lips around my cock.”

She paused, weighing options in her mind.

It was amusing: there were none.

“I recommend that you do what’s best for your daughters, Claire.”

The defiance fled from her and she placed her lips around my head, engulfed me in her glorious mouth. The warmth embraced half of my length. Her wet tongue moved on the underside of my cock and she sucked, forming a perfect vacuum with her sensual lips.

Clearly, she had some experience with cocksucking.

I gathered her hair in my hands, collecting the beautiful strands and caressing them softly. I folded them back behind her head and held them there. I liked her that way. She looked beautiful, mature, upper-class. The next time, I would pin her hair like that.

A rivulet of saliva slipped from the corner of Claire’s mouth and dripped onto her white blouse.

I pulled her head off of me, tilted it back and rubbed my wet cock all over her face and features. Spit bubbled out of her mouth; I caught some with my cock and spread it around her face.

“Use your lips,” I ordered.

She did as she was told, running her lips up and down the shaft, pursing them on the very tip and twisting them around with just the head in her mouth. Her face shined up at me.

She was trying to please me. And she was succeeding.

Pulling her up, I took her skull in my hands, pressing a thumb over each of her eyes. I pushed her down on my cock, thrusting deep. I heard her grunt as my grip tightened. I could feel her eyeballs. Too much more and I would blind her. I moved my hands to the sides of her head and squeezed as I thrust further, deeper.

She gagged, but I stifled it with a hard thrust that took her entire throat.

“Own it, bitch! Choke yourself!”

Desperately, she complied, screwing herself down on my cock, her head moving from side to side, twisting her lips around the base of my cock as she struggled to take even more.

The feeling was intense and when she tried to pull off, I held her there, at the farthest extent.

Claire retched and a flood of spit exploded on my dick. I pulled her off of me, moved her face beneath my cock and balls and watched the spit drip all over her lips, face and blouse. The wetness soaked though her blouse and I saw the outline of her breasts and nipples.

Having her bound before me like that, her blindfolded face on my dripping cock, her wet tits visible through her shirt, her legs stretching the material of her skirt, was almost more than I could bear.

I moved over top of her and thrust my thick cock back in her mouth. I deepthroated her, violently. She gagged, but I forced her through the discomfort and pain.

For long minutes of ecstasy, I pounded her throat. Then, I felt the burning.

I cried out as I came, and thrust down, as deep as I had ever been inside a woman’s throat. Claire swallowed, mouth working around my manhood as she struggled not to drown. I held her and watched her beautiful lips, luxuriating in the stimulation and power.

I desired more, to take her once and finally, to have her with me, forever. My cock pressed deeper inside. I watched her stretching mouth, felt her sucking lips. Her retch came from deep in her throat but had nowhere to go and ended as quickly as it began.

She struggled, tried to pull away, but I held her down. She was on the verge of unconsciousness. And I was on the edge of insanity.

I released my death-grip on her skull and the redheaded mother fell back, choking and gagging. Spittle and come flew from her lips. She coughed hard and gagged again. She tried to rise and I slapped her, throwing her back on her ass. She screamed. I grabbed her by the hair, slapped her again, harder. She thrashed, trying to escape and I held her tight. I shook her, violently, squeezing her throat, strangling her by her frail and delicate neck. I could snap it in a moment and she would be mine.

God, how I wanted her! I barely pulled myself back from the edge.

I dropped her on her knees.