I've been dabbling with writing erotica for quite some time. Let's face it - I have no love life. I can at least write about wonderfully steamy encounters, right? I have a ton of stories in the notes stage and a couple started, but nothing finished.
Enter my dear friend Tim Woodman. Yes, he is the Pro Villain, the master of Bondage Blowjobs. He specializes in Force Fantasy Rollplay and bondage. He has done some beautiful work and today he posted this plea: "So of all the people who said they were gonna, nobody has contacted me about writing some Villain erotica yet. Step up!" Then he made it personal with a message to me: "Write me a Provillain sexy short story!!! Pleeeease! That'd be awesome."
I made some vague promise about putting something together after my next magazine deadline. But that "Pleeeease" just got to me. I hate it when a villain begs. So here it is, just for Tim.
Music to my ears
By Kate Rose
Her violin case has everything I need. The discordant twang slowly fades from the air as I reach down to pull a cat-gut string free from the broken instrument. The wood is useless, but the strings … ah, they have a use. She lies still in the back of my SUV, but she won’t stay that way for long, but these strings will make sure she remains mine.
The E string, so delicate and thin. Yes, that loops around each of her thumbs and is pulled tight. I stop the pressure just short of drawing blood, but her lovely, delicate digits already begin to turn red, then purple. A bit more pressure, a shade too much of a struggle and oops! – those lovely thumbs are gone.
The A string next, thicker and stronger, goes around her wrists to hold them tight behind her back. I let it hang just a bit looser – a little room for a struggle is a good thing.
She starts to move a bit, thrashing weakly as I finish the loops about her wrists. A gentle moan rises from her throat and I must stop a moment, eyes closed, as I let out an answering moan of my own. My cock pushes against my pants, growing long and hard in anticipation. I open my eyes again as she starts to thrash across the floor, gasping in pain as the strings cut into her wrists.
Her cries are music to my ears, but we are not safe yet. I pull the polishing cloth from the violin case and wad it tightly into a ball, inhaling the sweet scent of rosin. I force it into her mouth, muffling the sobs that are now choking from her. I wedge it between her teeth, then tug the D string from the broken violin neck and tie it tight across her face to hold the cloth in place. The string cuts into her cheeks and the knot tangles in her gossamer hair. I can still hear her whimpers, soft and muffled, but it does not carry.
But her struggles grow and she begins kicking her feet against the side of the SUV. Too much noise! Gently, reverently, I pull free the last string from the broken violin and tighten it across her throat. Slowly, gently, mustn’t go too far. She struggles and kicks, then slows and finally quiets. A moment more of pressure, then I loosen the hold. Yes, her breasts still rise and fall. She sleeps.
She is a delicious weight across my shoulder as I carry her into the studio, her luscious curves soft under my hands. I lay her down gently in one of the recording booths and loosen the gag. The garrote I leave tied loosely around her neck and her wrists and thumbs stay bound. I leave her on the bare floor and depart, turning the lights to darkness, and take up my station in the control room. The gentlest of hums fills the silence as I power up the recording equipment, but it falls away as I put the headphones across my ears. The night goggles come next, and the darkness of the recording booth falls away to reveal my prize. Her breathing is soft, then grows faster and louder as she begins to wake.
The flash of fear and pain that crosses her face makes me grow hard again inside my jeans. She thrashes her head back and forth as she struggles to see and her gasps of pain are sweet music as she tugs at her bonds. My equipment records every sob as she tries to rise, getting as far as her knees before falling again to the cold, hard floor. She knocks against the chair sitting to one side, sending it crashing against the wall.
She rises again to her knees and crouches there, hands bound behind her back, hair disheveled, eyes staring and struggling to see. The thrashing has forced her skirt up around her waist and the lush curves of her thighs and butt are clear to see. Her breath is coming in fierce pants and gasps as she fights the terror. Perfect.
I remove the goggles and close my eyes for a moment and just listen to the sweet symphony of sounds. I stroke myself along the front of my jeans, rough and hard, then peel back the fly and let my cock loose from its prison. The rest of my clothes slowly follow. Then I flip a switch and send a spotlight glaring across the recording booth. She jerks in shock, almost falling, and lets out a small scream.
He eyes widen as I enter the door and close it tight behind me. Does she know me? Does she recognize me? I stand before her nude and ready as tears flow down her porcelain cheeks and drop from her chin.
“Where am I?” she sobs. “What do you want from me?”
“Shhhhhh” I tell her gently and I step forward to crouch before her. “Hush, now. Together we will make beautiful music.”
She shakes her head in confusion and starts to speak again. I lay a silencing hand across her mouth and grasp the string still tied across her neck. “Hush,” I tell her again as I begin to pull, drawing her by this leash to where the chair lies on its side. I turn it upright and bend her over the seat until her forehead rests against the chair’s back. I hold her there gently by her tether and reach for the discarded gag. I unwind the cloth and use it to wipe the tears from her face, then take the string and loop it through her leash and tie it tightly to a slat in the chair.
She jerks and cries out as she realizes what I am doing, but it is too late. She struggles and tries to jerk free and the string cuts into the back of her neck, drawing the slightest hint of blood. I lay a gentling hand across her neck and bend over her to lick the blood away from her fair skin. She is whimpering in fear, and her voice rises slowly in a chanted prayer.
It is slow work removing her clothes while she is bound, but it is worth the effort as each inch of skin is revealed. I carefully rip the seams of her blouse to get it off her arms and I leave her bra hanging from her wrists, the black lace dark against her waist and butt. The skirt and panties are easier, though she tries to kick as I lift each knee to pull the clothing free. Finally each inch of creamy, untouched skin is revealed.
I run a finger down her back to that cleft between her butt cheeks, then run both hands along her sides and up to her breasts. They are small but firm, her nipples pink and hard in the cool air. My cock throbs, almost painful, as I stroke it across her thigh and her loud cry of “Oh, God. Please, no!” almost makes me come. But not yet. Not yet.
I pull back, but keep my hands on her breasts, tickling and stroking the taut nipples and soft skin. She tugs against her leash and thrashes her head, but still can’t break free. “Oh, God! Oh, God!” she moans over and over again as I bend over her back and run one hand down her front. My fingers find that thatch of hair between her legs and start to tickle and tease and her breath catches in a moan. “No, no, no, no” she gasps as I pinch her nipple hard and force my hand between her legs. And my own moan joins with hers as I find her hot and wet, her fear forcing her body to respond.
I pull back and force her down farther onto the chair, spreading her knees apart until she is kneeling with her legs spread and her breasts pressed flat to the chair seat. I spread her wider with my hands and gaze at the sweet cleft between her legs, dripping with her fear. I kneel down tight behind her, my cock hard against her back, and push her face cruelly into the wood. I lean over her, my weight crushing her bound hands against her own butt, and start to stroke my hardness against her skin. I work my cock against her hard, bruising, as I reach around and start to stroke her again. My fingers are dripping as I find her clit and start to pinch and tease.
Her cries become wordless as she struggles between pain and pleasure. My fingers continue to tease her sweetest flesh as I grind myself across her back. She writhes beneath me, instinctively moving as she lies pinned by my weight, and her gasps become wilder and louder. Then she cries out, a sweet arpeggio taking flight from her bruised throat, and honey drips over my hand between her legs.
Quickly, as she still gasps for breath, I pull back my hips and push my cock against that dripping core. I push forward hard, sheathing myself fully in one hard thrust. She screams at the harsh invasion, and the pleasure of her so tight and wet around me makes me loose a cry with her. I jerk her wrists up on her back until the string bites into her skin and draws blood, then I start to pound. Each stroke draws a moan, a cry, a scream from her and I push ever harder and faster. I push at her hands until blood runs from her arms and smears across her back, and still I pound into her.
I can feel myself building, building and then, with one last hard thrust, I come inside her. I pump myself dry in her soft flesh, then lie quiet across her back, listening to her whimpers. Then gently, I reach forward and untie the string holding her to the chair. I brush her hair away from her face and watch as I draw the garrote tight once more. It is not gentle this time, and I twist my hand, the string cutting into my own fingers as it tightens across her neck. She starts to thrash under me, frantic, desperate, and she tightens around me where I still lie inside her.
She struggles hard, forcing herself up off the chair despite my weight, and I push it out of the way so I can force her to the floor. Her death throes pull against me, tight and hard, and I explode into her again as she gasps for breath. Then stillness, such stillness, as we both lay on the floor, legs intertwined.
She is silent now. But I have her sweetest music forever saved.
