WARNING: THIS IS NOT A LIGHT CHAPTER. IT IS HEAVY AND POSSIBLY DISTURBING.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: RAPE, RAPE, RAPE. I DON'T AGREE WITH IT, BUT IT HAPPENS. I'm really sorry if it offends you, but I think we all have to expect it from him, right?
Her insides had been ripped apart. That was the only possible explanation for the searing pain between her legs, her abdomen, her pelvis. She curled onto her side and away from Oliver as he fell back against the mattress, his softened member hanging vulgarly between his thighs. The harsh lighting of the basement reflected upon his skin, glistening with sweat. He panted, his hand falling on her bare hip, short nails gently scratching the skin before his fingers traced down her back. She shuddered, jerking away from his touch.
"Don't..." she whispered, but realized her voice was hoarse and barely audible. Undoubtedly, Oliver didn't hear her, but his hand fell from her and she heard him groan softly as the bed squeaked beneath his movement.
It wasn't the first time this had happened. She had been enduring his torturous rituals for the past week and a half, but each time felt differently. Each time was more painful, almost as if her body, rather than adjusting to his length and girth, had learned only to reject him more forcefully with each assault. She still felt his warmth between her legs, she felt as if she could trace the path that the poison he had released into her body had taken to her womb. The first time, instinctively, she had tried to expel his seed from between her legs, muscles clenching and releasing in a desperate attempt. The sight of his liquid slipping down her legs had only enticed him further, he had become more aroused by the sight and had taken her for a second time. Since then, she had learned to accept the poison within her.
"Lana..." he huffed, falling back against the pillows before moving off the side of the bed and reaching for his white briefs and dark slacks that had been abandoned on the floor along with the bed sheets. "I don't know how it's possible, but... you seem to get tighter each time."
His frank discussion of her sexual organs disgusted her. She refused to turn to look at him. She could hear him shuffling into his clothes behind her and closed her eyes, desperate for this moment to be over. He would leave now, retreat upstairs and do whatever it was he did after his assaults, and she would be left to replay his torture in her mind. Left to focus on the warmth inside her and the pain between her thighs. It was these moments when she most often wished for death, a dark angel to swoop in with black wings and take her away. Anywhere but here.
But he surprised her this time, and rather than retreating up the stairs to the house above, crossed the dungeon room, moving to stand in front of Lana. He knelt on one knee, his face closing in on hers. One hand reached out to brush her cheek, his thumb stroking the soft skin lightly.
"Things were different this time, weren't they?" His eyes were bright, almost shining with the excitement that was evident in his voice. "I felt it, Lana. Inside you. Something changed. It got better."
Her eyes drifted to his, glassy and full of hatred.
"You're insane," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "The only thing that has changed is the fact that I despise you even more now. I didn't know it was possible."
His smile faded for just a moment, shaking his head slowly.
"There's so much you don't know, Lana. So much."
His dark eyes studied hers, still twinkling with the post-coital glow that always made her feel dirty and ashamed.
He stood, brushing his palms down the front of his slacks.
"Despite your vehement denial, I'm no fool. I've felt the changes that have occurred within you among the past week. Your body is opening to me, Lana. With each encounter between us, you're learning to accept more of me. Your body is welcoming me. It's simply waiting for your mind to catch up."
He used his fingers to brush a strand of dark hair behind her ear. She shied away from his touch, scowling at him. During his assaults, he felt only the tight grip of her muscles around his member. His twisted mind accepted this only as a sign of acceptance, perhaps even pleasure. He refused, or perhaps his mind would not allow him, to recognize the motions for what they truly were: her body's desperate attempts to dispel him from her, muscles gripping and clenching as she tried to push him from her tight tunnel. The tightness of it all only increased the pain within her, and, unfortunately, his pleasure.
"And since you've been such a good girl, I think you deserve a special treat." He grinned at her, sweeping aside a dark curtain and leaning down to open a small door that she had learned was the barrier that separated her from her lover.
Lana lurched desperately in the bed as she saw her girlfriend for the first time in several days. Wendy's dark eyes moved questioningly to Oliver's before scrambling from her hiding place and over to Lana. She gasped desperately as Lana's arms caught her, pulling her onto the mattress and pressing her skin to her girlfriend's, fingers gripping her shirt tightly as she buried her face in Wendy's shoulder.
"I'll give the two of you some time alone," he announced quietly, securing Wendy's ankle with his large hand before slipping a matching metal cuff over her leg. He headed towards the stairs before glancing back at the two women huddled in the bed together. "I'll bring lunch for you, Lana. And of course for you, Mommy. Though it won't be long before you'll be fixing our lunches, now will it?" He giggled softly.
Lana felt Wendy shudder against her, her sharp features fixed in a gaze of hatred and fear as she looked at Oliver. He smiled brightly at them before he ascended the stairs, humming quietly to himself.
"Lana," Wendy whispered desperately to her as soon as the door shut, leaving them alone together in the dungeon. "Are you okay?"
Her hands were on Lana's face, brushing her dark hair from her eyes and using her thumbs to wipe the tears that were already slipping down her cheeks.
"He did it again, didn't he?" Wendy's face was stricken with fear. Lana could only nod, burying her face again in her lover's shoulder. Her fingers clutched desperately at her girlfriend, pulling her impossibly closer. There were no words between them as Wendy stroked her bare back for a moment. Suddenly she pulled away, leaning over the bed to retrieve the white sheet from the floor. She wrapped the thin fabric around Lana's nude body, gently helping her lie down on the mattress before moving next to her. "Can I... can I touch you?"
Lana's eyes met hers. Her heart ached for the relief that only Wendy could provide her. That was Wendy, so cautious, so concerned. She recognized the pain that Lana had endured and, in her usual way, wouldn't encroach upon Lana's personal space until she was granted permission.
Lana nodded and Wendy hurriedly slipped her arms around her girlfriend, hugging her tightly to her. Lana trembled beneath the sheet and Wendy held her closer, warm breath on her neck and ear.
"We're getting out of here," Wendy's voice was quiet but determined, and Lana's eyes rose to hers. She shook her head pleadingly.
"Wendy, no... you can't. He'll hear you. You can't say things like that." Lana's voice was desperate.
"Lana, we have to. He keeps me locked up in that tiny room. I can't live like this. You don't deserve to go through this pain. We have to come up with a plan, we're going to get out of here. I need you to help me, though. I can't do this without you."
"I can't," a quiet sob escaped Lana, shaking her head, "I'm not strong enough, Wendy, I-"
"You have to be!" Wendy demanded, pulling back to look at her lover's face. "There's no room for weakness right now, Lana. You have got to keep fighting."
Lana's eyes fell to the mattress, dark gaze glassy and blank. Wendy stroked her cheek for a moment before tracing her thumb over Lana's dark eyebrows.
"Lana," Wendy spoke her name, drawing her lover's attention to her eyes. "Stay with me, Lana. You can't check out now." Lana's quiet gaze focused on her slowly, Wendy's eyes dark and narrowed.
"Listen to me," Wendy whispered in the silence of the dungeon. "You cannot go anywhere right now. He's a psychiatrist. The second he sees you going away, he'll lock you up in Briarcliff and you'll never get out. Not until he says you're cured. And the torture will only get worse in there. At least now..." her voice faded for a moment, her fingers entwining with the other woman's. "We have each other."
Lana nodded against the pillow, silent tears slipping down her cheeks.
"It hurts, though, Wendy."
"I know," Wendy pressed her warm cheek against Lana's, hushing her softly, "I know it does, baby. And we're going to make sure he pays for every sick thing he's done to us. But you have to be stronger than him. If he sees you like this, he's going to think he's won." She placed a soft kiss on Lana's forehead. "And once he thinks that, we won't be able to stop him."
The heavy door opening above them drew both of their eyes to the ceiling. His deep voice still hummed an eerie tune, though perhaps slipping from anyone else's mouth it would have been joyous and even catchy.
"I hope you two are decent," he called, hesitating for a moment before beginning his descent.
Lana felt Wendy hold onto her tightly as he made his way down the stairs, carrying a tray with three plates resting on it.
"Ahh. A delicious lunch of sandwiches for my ladies." He grinned at them, placing the tray on the edge of the bed before offering a plate to each of them. "Eat up, girls. We've got a very exciting afternoon ahead of us."
"What do you mean?" Wendy challenged him, brown eyes dark with hatred.
He smirked at her before turning his attention to Lana.
"Were the two of you able to catch up?" He wondered, perching on the edge of the mattress. "I imagine you have so much to talk about."
Lana and Wendy watched him guardedly, still clutching each other. He sighed, dropping his head before glancing back at Lana. He slipped off the bed, grabbing Lana's nightgown that he had tossed beside the bed and handed it to her.
"Please, get dressed, Lana. Wendy doesn't need to see you like this."
Wendy's eyes flashed to him.
"I've seen more of her than you ever will," she spat the words at him. Oliver's eyes flicked to hers, a glimmer of excitement in them.
"Is that a challenge?" He smirked at her. Wendy's eyes fell from his, glancing to the sheet on the bed. "Besides," he added after a moment, "that part of your life is behind you now, Wendy. Mommy. We only need each other. Isn't that right?"
"Just stop, Dr. Thredson. I'm not your mother!" she hissed the words at him, "I'm just another one of your captives. And we're not going to rest until you're either locked up for life or buried six feet under the ground."
Oliver sighed, his head drooping. He let out a heavy breath before looking back at up her.
"I know you don't mean that. You wouldn't say that to me if you were in the right frame of mind. You just need time." He nodded, his chest rising with a heavy sigh. "I so wanted the three of us to have a nice lunch together. But I can see now that the two of you need some time apart to discourage this conspiratorial camaraderie that you've formed." His eyes still focused on Wendy. "This is all so new to me. It's so exciting to have you here at long last." He reached out to stroke Wendy's dark hair and she jerked out of his reach, dark brown eyes narrowing at him.
Lana watched the interaction between them, the way Wendy sneered at him, her expression clearly one of disgust, and still Oliver looked at her kindly. Almost lovingly. Revulsion turned in her stomach.
"Wendy, why don't you go upstairs?" His large hand reached into his pocket, retrieving a single small key and inserting it into the lock. He turned it quickly and the metal cuff slipped off Wendy's ankle, leaving her free. the key safely back in his pocket, she glanced unsurely at Lana before looking back to him.
"What are you going to do with her?" Wendy demanded suddenly, her grip tightening on Lana. She guarded the other woman with her body, Lana's fingertips curling slightly into the back of Wendy's light gown.
He looked shocked at her accusation, shaking his head slowly.
"I'm not going to do anything with her, Wendy. It's simply time to work on my story. Nothing you would be interested in, I'm sure. Just business. There are more important things waiting for you upstairs." At Wendy's hesitance, he tilted his head. "You have two options. You can go upstairs, or you can go back into your little storage closet. Are you going to choose, or should I?"
Wendy pulled back just slightly, her eyes still on Oliver. Lana could hear her heavy breath and Wendy turned her head to look at her. In an instant, Wendy's hands were covering her own and her lips were pressed against her lover's, kissing her deeply and curling her fingers around Lana's hands. The warmth of Wendy's mouth against her bruised lips, especially after all the times Oliver had kissed her so harshly, left Lana feeling breathless with happy memories of the the way things had been.
All too soon, however, she saw Oliver's fingers curl around Wendy's arm, pulling her away and off the bed harshly, causing her to stumble to her feet. His tight grip remained on her arm as he dragged her to the staircase and followed her up the stairs. Lana sat still, eyes wide and silent as she heard Wendy step to the floor of the main house before Oliver pulled the heavy metal door shut behind her. He descended the stairs again, a foolish smile etched onto his face.
"Wendy gets to go upstairs?" Lana questioned him quickly, her eyes darting toward the top of the stairs. It took a moment for the question to register in his mind, and he laughed softly after a moment, shaking his head.
"Oh, I see. You think this is going to be the moment of your redemption, don't you?"
His eyes met Lana's, and though she desperately tried to disguise the foolish hopefulness in her eyes, he saw through her expression.
"If I were you, Lana, I wouldn't get my hopes up. I've locked anything of any use to her well out of her reach." He stood at the edge of the bed, Lana looking up at him. "And unless a primary teacher knows how to make a shank out of a deck of playing cards, this little act of kindness on my behalf will hardly be my undoing."
She knew he could sense the the way her body slumped at the idea of Wendy being no closer to gaining their freedom, and the corners of his lips curved into a smirk. He was obviously greatly pleased at Lana's defeated stature and crawled onto the bed, moving closer to her. She pushed herself away from him, despising the way he clambered toward her like a child, excited to tell her about his day at school.
There was a long silence between them as he folded his legs beneath them, watching her with an amused expression, eyes glittering with excitement.
She met his eyes at first, but his incessant gaze on her caused her to look away, dark eyes searching the room despite the fact that she could still feel his eyes on her.
"Would you get me the typewriter, please, so we can begin?" She asked, in a desperate attempt to disrupt his focus on her, but her words did nothing to sway him.
"I told Wendy a lie," he giggled softly, covering his mouth. "I shouldn't have, I know. After all, she's never made a secret out of her true feelings for me. However..." he contemplated his words for a moment, "I'm not interested in working on my story right now. There's a far more pressing matter on my mind."
Lana watched him silently, breath shuddering in her lungs.
"What?" She whispered the word, terror encompassing her at the wild look in his eyes.
"Can I tell you a secret?" He asked suddenly, moving closer to her still. His gaze never faltered from her as he awaited a response. Lana, taken aback from the whiplash effect he seemed to thrive on, simply watched him silently.
"Lately, Lana," he began, his voice soft and deep, "I've been thinking of the way it feels. With you. How snugly I fit inside of your warmth. How tightly you grasp me, and how your muscles wring my member so deliciously when I'm inside you..." his eyes closed in pleasant recollection, a slight shudder visibly rippling through him at his words. His eyes opened slowly, dark brown irises meeting hers. "And I can't help but wonder; would Mommy feel the same way when she's wrapped around me?"
Lana's face flushed, intense anger and indignation rushing through her with such force that she jerked against her chain, lunging at him without fully realizing her intention. His eyes widened and he sat back quickly, lips forming a pink warning, eyebrows furrowing.
"She's not your mommy!" Her voice came out more shrilly than she had hoped it would, and her eyes darkened. "She's not your anything!"
She struggled against her chains as he advanced on her, hands pushing against the base of her neck. His thumbs pressed into the delicate skin just above her collarbone and his thick fingers curled around her neck, squeezing and applying enough pressure to restrict her air supply. She gasped beneath his touch, face already flushing. Her skin grew more red beneath his tanned hands as he straddled her, blocking the air from her lungs as she already grew desperate for breath.
"Tsk, tsk," Oliver hushed her calmly, shaking his head. "That was quite an outburst, Lana. I thought you knew by now that acting out of pure emotion always ends badly for you." He raised one dark eyebrow at her. "And I'm afraid this is one of those times." His grip released just slightly as her legs kicked beneath him, and he allowed air to flood into her lungs suddenly. She gasped loudly as he traced a finger down her pale jaw line, his mouth pressing close to her ear. "I've spent my entire life looking for Wendy," his hot breath licked her ear, "I want to make her sweet little body tremble beneath my touch. And you're going to help me make that happen."
"The hell I am," she wheezed beneath him, struggling to slip out from beneath him despite the fact that a knee pressed heavily between her legs, pinning her to the bed. "You could never make me help you do that!"
One hand keeping her pinned beneath him, the other hand quickly found its way into his pocket, pulling out a small penknife and flicking it open, the sharp metal blade pressed to the delicate blue vein in her neck. She stilled beneath him suddenly, her breath catching in her throat as he traced the thin blade along her skin. She took shaky breaths as he grinned down at her, his dark hair falling into his face.
"I want you," he snarled above her, "to consider what might happen to your beloved Wendy if I slit your throat right now."
"You wouldn't do that," she took a shuddering breath after a moment, keeping her eyes locked on his.
"Wouldn't I?" He tilted his head at her, "Lana, I think you're forgetting that I've skinned women alive. I've worn their skin against my own. I hardly think watching the blood drain from you until you slip into unconsciousness is beyond my grasp of ability."
She swallowed hard, feeling the blade against her skin. She was trembling within his hold, and she hated that she knew he could feel it. The idea of providing him with any form of twisted pleasure made her sick.
She took a shallow breath, tears burning her eyes before they began to slip down her cheeks. She knew he could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Slowly, she met his dark gaze.
"What do I have to do?" The question alone was nearly too much for her. The thought of him using her against her lover... the very idea that he had the power to do so... it was terrifying.
"Mmm," a slow grin spread across his lips, but the knife still pressed against her throat. "That's what I thought."
He turned the knife in his hand, pressing the point to her skin and tracing it down the length of her neck.
"You're going to tell me exactly what I need to do to bring Wendy to climax."
"No, Oliver, please!" The words escaped as a desperate plea, and immediately the knife returned to her throat.
"I know you know," his voice lowered and grew darker. "I know that your fingers know all of those sweet spots within her that drive her over the edge. You're the only one who knows what she requires to achieve her orgasm. And you're going to share those dirty little secrets with me. Or I'm going to spill your blood all over these sheets, and then I'll bring Wendy down and make her watch as you bleed out. While I'm inside her."
A sob tore through Lana's throat, tears trickling down her cheeks. She gasped, turning her eyes from him.
"Please don't hurt her," Lana begged desperately, "please, please."
"Oh, I have no intention of hurting her," Oliver's voice attempted to reassure her, his fingertips tracing her skin. "Quite the contrary, wouldn't you say? Now tell me, Lana. Tell me what I need to do to get her to her release."
"Please don't make me do this," she whimpered, "I can't do this to her..."
"You won't be doing anything to her, Lana," his voice was more firm now. He was beginning to lose what little patience he'd had to begin with. "Now, tell me what to do or I'll have to cut it out of you."
The blade pressed into her skin and she felt the sharp pain of the metal beginning to slice through her skin.
"Okay," she sobbed suddenly, freezing beneath him. "Okay. Just... stop. Please, stop."
She felt the blade being pulled from her skin and looked up at him, eyes red and burning with tears.
Lana tried to resist the tears, tried to fight the guilt within her, knowing that she wasn't doing this of her own volition, but rather at the urgings of a madman. Still, the thought of giving him the ammunition with which to destroy her lover left her feeling repulsed.
"Wendy likes it..." the words escaped from her in shudders, keeping her voice low in shame and disgust. At least Wendy couldn't hear her. Wendy would never know that she was the reason for Oliver's intimate knowledge. She would never expect Lana to divulge such personal information to their captor. The thought brought a round of fresh tears, but she pushed it from her mind. "She likes it when I use my fingers..." her voice faded in a desperate attempt to give him a chance to see that what he was forcing her to do was inhumane, but his eyes shone excitedly and he watched Lana closely.
Just as she spoke the words, Oliver's eyes darted down to her slender fingers, studying them as he raised a dark brow, imagining her thin digits working inside Wendy's hot tunnel, causing her to writhe and cry out in passion. The very thought made Lana's head spin and her stomach feel nauseous. She closed her eyes as she continued to speak.
"I use my fingers inside her. I bend my fingertips just a little... that spot... there's a spot inside her that I found that..." she sniveled desperately, sniffling and opening her eyes to focus on a spot away from Oliver's eyes. "You can tell when you've found it. She tightens around you, and..." she stopped speaking, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She was still trembling, and looked to him, her eyes begging him for permission to stop speaking. She found no kindness in his eyes.
"Does she like to be touched?" He asked, his voice deep with what Lana recognized as lust. The idea of him yearning for her lover, her Wendy, made her feel sick and more alone than ever. "To have her nipples caressed and her clitoris stimulated?"
Lana began to sob openly, her head falling forward in silent nod, eyes squeezing shut in an attempt to block him from her thoughts.
"What drives her over the edge?" He asked suddenly, his posture straightening as he drilled her for more information. "What is it that finally, finally makes her reach her climax, Lana?"
Lana took one last gasping breath, her chest rising and falling laboriously. She turned her head away from him, focusing on one of the many linked chains hanging from the ceiling. She blinked wearily and swallowed. Her back rested heavily on the headboard of the bed. The very bed she had once shared with Wendy.
"That... between her legs..." she struggled to say the words, but Oliver smirked. The corners of his lips turned into a dark smile.
"Her clitoris," he encouraged her, "that delicious little bundle of nerves between her legs. Did you know, Lana, that the clitoris has no other known purpose in the human body than providing pleasure for women?" He chuckled darkly. "Of course you knew that."
Lana couldn't stand to look at him anymore despite the fact that his eyes were still on her, grinning like a wolf. Her face was hot and anger pulsed through her. There was nothing more she could do. He had his information, and she was powerless to stop what he planned to do with her.
It seemed that Oliver, however, was not quite finished with his sick fantasy.
"I'll wager that a few swipes of the pad of my thumb over that tiny, slick button would send her into shudders of pleasure," he breathed, voice tinted with arousal. "And, as I've told you before, Lana, I'm not a betting man."
The fight had gone from her, and the idea of him using her against Wendy had taken what little spirit she'd had left. She slumped onto her back in the bed, curling onto her side and away from him. She felt as if her body was nothing more than an empty husk, a vessel used solely for the transportation of blood through an intricate set of veins that no longer led to a beating heart.
"I was going to wait," he admitted, "but I don't think I can. You've gotten me so excited. And I think you're really going to enjoy this, as well." She felt his weight shift off the bed as he hurried toward the stairs. Before he reached the landing at the top of the concrete staircase, she heard him call Wendy's name.
"What..." she turned on her side, searching desperately for Oliver before fully realizing he had gone to retrieve Wendy. Her heart sunk in her chest and she sat up quickly, calling out to him. "No! God, no, Oliver!"
Lana clawed desperately at the sheets as she tried to pull herself from the bed, desperate to reach him and beg him not to go through with his twisted fantasy. She'd been so sure she'd had more time to come up with a plan to save Wendy from his malicious intent. She hadn't realized he wasn't making future plans, but rather immediate ones. He fully intended to follow through with his words instantly, and Lana was responsible for the lust he was suddenly unable to contain.
She heard him drag Wendy through the door at the top of the stairs and lead her downstairs. Lana's eyes met hers for a brief moment before she had to turn away, torn in half by guilt and self-hatred.
"Go join Lana on the bed," Oliver spoke softly to Wendy, releasing her from his grip. Ignorant as to what he had in mind for her, Wendy clambered onto the bed next to her girlfriend, obviously relieved just to be reunited with Lana. Her soft hand found Lana's cheek, peppering soft kisses on her lover's jaw.
"Are you okay?" Wendy asked, her voice full of concern as she wiped the tears from Lana's red and swollen face. "What did he do to you?"
Nothing that he's not about to do to you, Lana tried to warn her silently. Their dark eyes connected, Wendy's gaze clouded with fear and worry.
"Wendy, I'm so sorry," was all Lana could manage before Oliver slipped the heavy cuff around Wendy's slender ankle again, condemning her to the mattress. Lana glanced up at Oliver as he approached the edge of the bed, waiting for her moment. He would have to release her, she realized, just as he always released Wendy before he took Lana's body. She would have a chance to search desperately for any mode of escape and then come back for Wendy. She would save her.
However, to Lana's horror, Oliver's fingers didn't reach into his pocket for the keys to the cuff. Instead, they reached for Wendy's dark hair, turning her head gently towards him.
"Wendy," he said her name softly despite the deep baritone of his voice. "Look at me."
Wendy had not yet been overtaken by fear, and looked defiantly at her captor. As she did, Oliver's fingers tipped her chin to his, meeting her lips gently with his own. Wendy shrieked at the sudden contact, scrambling back against the sheets, desperate to escape him, but he descended on her quickly. He was already straddling her waist, collecting both of her tiny wrists with one large hand and pressing them together as he placed soft kisses on the square of her jaw, his eyes closed as he seemed to relish this moment between them.
Lana watched, horrified, as his fingers began to slide down her lover's body, slipping between her slender legs and beginning to search for that secret spot that Lana had revealed to him. Overcome by sudden rage and hatred, Lana lunged for them, her fingers going around Oliver's neck. Almost as if he had been anticipating this reaction, he threw her off and turned quickly, grabbing the chain attached to Lana's ankle and pulling her across the floor. Hurriedly, he reached beneath the bed frame and secured a chain to her other ankle, restricting her movement to several inches. Lana howled as she realized what he had done; she was now physically unable to move any further or closer to them while still only a foot-and-a-half out of reach of her lover. Her arms stretched toward Wendy in one last desperate attempt to preserve her girlfriend's dignity and safety, but it was to no avail. Oliver had trapped her exactly where he had wanted her.
She wanted to look away, but Wendy was watching her now, eyes wide in fright, and Lana couldn't bear to abandon her lover. She wiped at her tears desperately, nodding quickly at Wendy, encouraging her to keep her eyes focused on her instead of the man towering above her.
Still, she couldn't help but take notice of what Oliver was doing. Now that Lana had been taken care of, he was free to move between Wendy's legs. His body crawled between her thighs, keeping them spread and his hands began to trace small circles on her pelvis and then lower. Wendy glanced quickly from Lana to Oliver, the realization of what was happening finally beginning to set in.
"No..." Wendy whispered hoarsely, shaking her head at the man who was now grinning up at her. "No, please don't. I..."
"Shhh," he silenced her with a finger to her lips, his other hand slipping up her stomach now, finding the small mounds of breasts beneath her gown, his hands molding over them in a slow, torturous motion as he attempted to make her nipples harden into taut pebbles. Wendy's eyebrows creased at his touch and she jerked her head away from him, her body arching for freedom. He held her still with one strong hand now, fingers slipping down her body to pull her white cotton panties from her thin legs. Lana tried to ignore Wendy's muffled cries as he slid them down her legs, tossing them behind him and now using both hands to keep her thighs spread.
"You're going to like this," he assured her, his body lowering between Wendy's spread legs. "I know you will."
Lana watched, unable to turn away, as one of his thick fingers unfolded from his palm, probing gently at Wendy's pink folds. Wendy gasped against his touch and jerked away, tears slipping down her face, her eyes squeezing shut as he explored her parted lips. Lana could hear his quiet gasps as he explored her female anatomy, dark eyebrows furrowing in interest as he began to stroke the hood of her clitoris, encouraging it to emerge.
"No," Wendy gasped again, her hips jerking against his hand. Hatred rolled in Lana's stomach at the sight of her lover twitching beneath him. Oliver noticed it as well, because a huge grin slipped across his face and he looked at Lana.
"You were right," he smirked at her, his finger working quickly between Wendy's thighs. As one hand continued to work at the tiny bud between her legs, another hand's fingers began to teasingly part her folds, slipping inside just to the first knuckle. Wendy's breath grew heavy and she groaned softly, her head pressing into the pillow, her face a grimace as the pressure entered her.
"That's it, Wendy," he encouraged her softly, fascinated with the way her body was beginning to respond despite herself. His fingers continued to circle the sensitive bundle of nerves and Lana heard him make a small, satisfied sound in the back of his throat just as she saw a glimmer of wetness between Wendy's thighs.
The breath was taken from Lana immediately and she turned away, horrified at the prospect of Wendy's body responding to his malevolent touch. Lana's stomach turned, and she thought she might throw up. This couldn't be real. She was seeing things, hearing things. Wendy couldn't possibly be aroused by the things this monster was doing to her.
And then, the hard truth hit her. She was aroused, and it was because she herself had given him the knowledge to arouse her. She'd told him exactly what he needed to do to produce these results within her lover. She'd done the same actions a million times herself, and each time, Wendy had climaxed gratefully. The revolting truth was, she was the reason Wendy's body was responding.
A strangled moan drew her attention back to the lurid scene before her. Oliver's fingers had withdrawn from her now, but even in the dim light she saw them shining with Wendy's own wetness. Hurriedly, he began to pull the leather from his belt buckle, slipping it off and sliding his pants down. The all-too-familiar bulge beneath his white briefs left Lana nauseous and she searched desperately for Wendy's eyes again. To her surprise, her girlfriend was watching her, her vision clouded. Lana couldn't bring herself to admit the truth about those hazy brown eyes.
"It's going to be tight, Wendy," Lana heard Oliver warning her softly as he positioned himself between her spread thighs, and without another moment passing between the three of them, he moved inside of her. Wendy gasped loudly, her hips jerking up at the motion of being filled so suddenly and her eyes squeezed closed painfully, shutting Lana out of the moment.
Oliver's eyes were already half-lidded as he slowly began to move inside of the brunette beneath him. His thick hands grasped her slim hips as he began to thrust into her slowly. She heard tiny whimpers and gasps still slipping from Wendy's lips, and, it dawned on her, after a moment, that not all of them sounded pained.
Oliver began to groan quietly as the speed of his thrusts increased, and he sheathed himself inside of her so deeply that their hips met. Lana swallowed the bile rising in her throat just as his thumb found the sensitive bundle of nerves between her legs and began to rub quickly.
Wendy's eyes flew open at the sensation, her hips bucking against his as he stimulated her quickly and without mercy. She whimpered beneath him, her small frame dominated by his much larger one. Oliver's hips began to snap into the brunette's, quiet grunts and groans filling the air as his fingers held her tighter, rubbed faster, thrusts angled to hit the soft, sensitive spots on the roof of her warm tunnel. She could see the muscles tightening and relaxing in Wendy's flat stomach and Lana could take no more. She moved as far away from the coupling as she could, though she could feel and hear the shaking of the bed as he pounded into her girlfriend, a still unwilling but completely powerless participant in his game.
Lana closed her eyes tightly, refusing to raise her gaze to either of them as Wendy's whimpers grew higher in pitch, strangled moans escaping her pretty pale throat and Oliver's grunts grew louder and more frequent.
Wendy's climax was unmistakable. She let out a breathy sigh prior to sucking her breath in. And then, the gasps and whimpers that Lana had known so intimately. Whispered words that she couldn't quite make out and a few broken moans punctuated the shuddering breaths that signified her orgasm. Jealousy and hatred for Oliver knotted in Lana's stomach, gritting her teeth as she recognized the sound of Oliver's orgasm following quickly after; his helpless groans and the heightened speed of his thrusts within her, the desperate way he groaned Wendy's name. Actions that Lana had become all too familiar with. And now that Wendy knew just as well.
Heavy breathing followed both of their climaxes before she heard Wendy begin to cry. Suddenly finding the strength that had fled her so recently, Lana raised her head to look at her girlfriend. At the sight of her, Wendy reached for her desperately despite the fact that Oliver was still buried between her legs. Wendy's skin was pink and flushed, tiny beads of sweat punctuating her flawless complexion. Oliver's back heaved between Wendy's thighs as he finally, tortuously, slid out from between Wendy's swollen sex. His breath came in desperate gasps, his body trembling as he slid onto the mattress beside her.
Still shaking, Lana watched, drained, as Oliver crawled up beside Wendy on the bed, collapsing next to her and brushing dark strands of hair from her face. Wendy watched him with dark eyes as he pressed his lips to hers. She struggled away from him and he allowed his flushed cheek to rest on her shoulder, body still heaving with exertion.
"I hate you," she hissed the words at him, attempting to tug her gown down over her exposed sex. His hands lazily prevented her from doing so.
"Oh, Wendy," he breathed her name heavily, "you can fight it all you want. But you'll never be able to deny the fact that I'm the only man who has ever brought you to orgasm."
Wendy clenched her jaw against him, her body stiffening as he rested against her. Oliver blinked lazily before turning to Lana, dark eyes smiling.
"By the way, Lana," his voice was cold, taunting, "I think it's safe to say I found some new spots within her that you didn't know about."
