"You're no longer afraid."
It's my first time to hear him purr, and I love it—-
"But that shall be easily remedied."
It takes me a moment to understand what he's saying, but by then it's too late.
RRRRRRIIIIIIIP.
Mr. Sinister tears my thick knitted sweater apart calmly and efficiently, and he continues to rip, rip, and rip until my sweater falls completely open to reveal the lacy bra covering my breasts.
"What about now, my dove?"
I can only stare at him in mute shock, my head still reeling from the fact he's ripped my sweater open. I truly thought these things only happened in books and movies—-
"Are you afraid now?"
I don't even have the chance to think this time, with my kidnapper already reaching for me once again—-
RRRRRRIIIIIIIP.
All it takes is one forceful, methodical yank, and I find myself gulping in quick, shallow breaths as my breasts are introduced to a man's gaze for the very first time. It's another first that now belongs to my kidnapper, and while the realization leaves me dazed—-
The way Mr. Sinister is staring at my exposed flesh—-
It's exactly as he promised.
It's my dream and nightmare come true, and it only gets better and worse when I hear him say—-
"You have the loveliest tits, my dove."
There goes another dream and nightmare, now made real as well by my kidnapper. I've always fantasized having my lover talk dirty to me, but I never imagined they'd turn me on this much. My breasts have noticeably swelled in size at his words, and they're aching in a way that they've never ached before.
I dart a look at my captor, and my cheeks flame when I realize he's been watching me all this time.
"Straighten up, please."
His manners somehow make everything more embarrassing, and I feel like my entire body is blushing as I force my back to straighten, which automatically makes me push my breasts up like I'm begging for more of his attention.
"Very, very lovely."
My cheeks grow hotter at his words. I want to look away, but at the same time I can't seem to stop staring. His gaze is completely focused on my supposedly lovely tits, and the hunger I see in his eyes makes me feel like they are lovely.
"But I think I'll need a closer look."
I tense up, but he's already leaning forward—-
Closer and closer and closer—-.
Until the scent of his aftershave teases my nostrils, and his breath fans my nipples with warm, drugging heat.
Oh God.
My senses flutter anew as I watch my nipples pout into life.
"I think I'd like to play with your tits..."
Oh God.
"May I?"
I know I should say no, but instead I hear myself choke out, "Yes." Desire has completely taken over me, and it burns even hotter as my kidnapper reaches out to palm my right breast. His large hand completely engulfs my flesh, and my senses start its spiral descent.
I've obviously held my own breast before. Caressed it even, when I pleasure myself. But I've also known that a man's touch is likely to be different. And it is.
When my kidnapper squeezes my breast, the strength and power in his grip draws out a cry from my throat. It scares and thrills me to feel his strength and know that even if I do choose to struggle against him, he would be able to overpower me. If he wants to have his way with me, if he wants to force himself on me—-
He would be able to do so, easily.
And although it makes me feel guilty and shamed—-
I can't help how I feel, and oh God, I love it that it's so.
And when he starts kneading my breast harder and harder—-
I love it so much, oh God.
And when he finally claims my attention-deprived nipple and starts rubbing it between his fingers—-
Aaaaaaaah.
I can no longer stay silent, and a moan breaks past my lips.
"I wonder what your nipple would taste like..."
Oh God.
"Would it be so fucking sweet that I won't be able to stop suckling on it?"
The image his words paint is too much for me to handle, and I can't help but moan again.
"Do you want me to know what your nipple would taste like?"
My brain begs me to keep some pride, but my body is no longer under its command. Hasn't been so, ever since this man kidnapped me.
"Beg me for it, my dove."
For a captive to beg for her kidnapper's touch is beyond the pale. It should never be done. Never. And that's what makes it impossible for me to resist.
"P-Please."
"Be clear about what you're begging for."
I start to close my eyes.
"No!"
My eyes fly open.
"I want you to look at me while you beg."
Oh God.
I feel like I'm about to burst into flames at all these things he's saying and asking me to do.
Everything really is my dream and nightmare come true, and it has completely blurred the lines between right and wrong. I no longer know anything.