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                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2009.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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Helpless
by Dark Dreamer (address withheld)

***

A tease is taught a lesson by a handsome and dangerous 
Latino man who isn't fooling around. (MF, nc, rp, intr, 
bd, s&m)

***

Stephanie McMichael had never really been demure. She 
had never been reluctant to use her looks to get what 
she wanted. In a sense, she thought of her looks as a 
career asset, sort of like her wardrobe. She invested a 
lot of time, money and effort into maintaining both.

It was easier to maintain the wardrobe than the body, 
that only took careful shopping, good taste, and money. 
The body, on the other hand, required steady exercise, 
long hours at the beauty salon for manicures, 
pedicures, skin conditioning, more time at the hair 
stylist, then careful maintenance every day.

It helped, of course, that she was, unarguably, 
undeniably, absolutely gorgeous.

Her face was soft, the contours carefully sculpted. Her 
cheekbones were high and finely etched, her nose small 
and delicate, her lips full, soft and pouting. Her 
eyes, depending on her mood, could be wide and round 
and innocent, or sharp and piercing and intelligent.

Her hair was like spun silk, chestnut brown, hung thick 
and evenly and smoothly down around her head, spilling 
over her shoulders, and flowing half-way down either 
her back or her chest, depending on the impression she 
wanted to give.

She was tall for a woman, and walked with a dancer's 
grace, lithe and smooth, with careful poise. She had 
long, exquisitely honed legs, a perfectly rounded ass 
that pushed out invitingly, full, firm hips, a 
surprisingly narrow waist, and large, yet not too large 
breasts that were firm and sat high on her chest.

She could be, by degrees, charming, seductive, 
friendly, sympathetic, helpful, understanding, and 
ruthless, very, very ruthless. She was called a shark 
by some, a bitch by others. There were many other 
epithets hurled at her, mostly behind her back, mostly 
obscene.

Stephanie McMichael sold real estate, not the little 
cookie cutter homes in the valley, but the big million, 
and multi-million dollar ranch houses and mansions on 
the hills of Beverly Hills and Palos Verdes and the 
beaches of Malibu.

Most of the buyers were men, and she played up to them 
shamelessly. And if the customer was a woman, and if 
the woman was susceptible, then she would play up to 
them as well. Stephanie had been the top seller in La 
Costa Real Estate before leaving to form her own 
agency.

The McMichael agency was rapidly becoming one of the 
major players in the LA area market, and Stephanie was 
most of the sales force, her and one young lovely 
protégé named Susan, who she'd renamed, for the 
client's benefit, Suzanne. It sounded more alluring.

Her office was in Beverly Hills, larger than it needed 
to be... to impress, expensively decorated in light 
Scandinavian woods and softly colored Persian carpets. 
Plants abounded. Light flooded into the common area 
through large windows. Her private office had a 
skylight over her large, elliptical desk.

Almost everyone was surprised, then, to see Stephanie, 
the obviously successful and wealthy proprietor, for 
she was, in addition to a magnificent body and stunning 
looks, quite young, and looked younger. Her perfect, 
silken hair shone in any light and framed the face of a 
twenty year old woman.

She was, as it happened, twenty-six, but appreciated 
her even more youthful looks, and used them to her 
benefit at every opportunity.

Of course, her mind was more important than anything 
else. She knew how to access her clients, to figure out 
what their wants and needs were, what they were willing 
to pay, how they wanted to be treated. She could be a 
business-like no-nonsense career woman, a 
sophisticated, seductive flirt, or a smiling, bright-
eyed, yet oh so carelessly beautiful young thing.

Right now she was the seductive, lusciously attractive 
sophisticate, the nose just slightly turned up, the 
smile just a little superior, the eyes knowing, the 
voice strong, confident, dipping to soft and 
conspiratorial.

She wore a tight skirt that was short, but not too 
short, the stockings dark, the heels high, yet not too 
high, the shirt red silk, outlining her hourglass 
figure.

Everything was set... almost.

She was having problems with this client. His name was 
Eduardo Ramirez. He was tall and broad shouldered, 
handsome, in a rough sort of way, and very smooth 
talking. On the other hand he had the day old beard 
look that went out when Miami Vice was cancelled. He 
had the same kind of silk jacket, T-shirt look too.

His attitude swung wildly from urbane and cultured, to 
cunning and calculated. The looks he gave her were, 
alternately, respectfully attentive, or deeply 
penetrating, his eyes almost boring into her skull at 
times.

This flustered her a little. She was used to men 
undressing her with their eyes, but Eduardo Ramirez 
seemed to be trying to see into her very soul.

She felt uneasy around him, and her confidence 
sometimes evaporated. She lost her train of thought on 
several occasions, and misspoke, even stuttering a 
couple of times. She wasn't quite sure why. She felt 
cowed, apprehensive, her insides fluttering and 
shaking.

She also felt a deep, deep animal magnetism. Which was 
crazy since she usually hated his type. He was 
hopelessly out of fashion, déclassé, really. His rough 
masculinity was the kind that made her smile at the 
immaturity of the male sex. He was a macho jerk, 
insensitive, arrogant, and chauvinistic.

So why did she feel her insides burning, her pussy 
juice flowing, her breasts swelling?

After all, flirting with the clients never, ever came 
to anything, no matter what idea they got. She never, 
ever, ever fucked clients. She sold houses, not 
herself.

As she walked him down the hall towards the gym his arm 
casually moved around her waist, and she felt an 
electrical charge that kept her from pushing it 
diplomatically away as she normally would have.

Then his hand slid down onto her ass and squeezed it. 
She stopped and half turned towards him. "Mr. Ramirez," 
she protested.

His other hand came up and gripped her throat, 
squeezing it tightly. His eyes bored into her and the 
words caught in her mouth. She stared back in fear, 
then, as his hand slid off her throat and up against 
the side of her face, in a strange, hazy, enveloping 
heat.

He gripped her hair, turning her towards him, pulling 
her head back slightly, then his mouth shot in and 
crushed hers. She struggled weakly, and for only 
seconds, then gave up to the swelling chorus of lust 
and desire inside her overheated body.

His fingers kneaded her ass through the skirt as his 
tongue dueled with hers inside her mouth. She felt her 
breasts hardening, her nipples pushing out against the 
thin, lacy French bra that held them barely in check.

Then he pulled back, took her hand, and started walking 
forward again. She stumbled, completely off balance, 
both mentally and physically. They walked into the 
gymnasium, and his eyes scanned the room as she tried 
to get control of herself and resume the sales pitch.

"A...as you can...see," she gulped. "There is plenty of 
room for all manner of exercise equipment. The present 
owner has a wide assortment here..."

He jerked her to one side, as he walked over to a large 
punching bag hanging from a hook. It wasn't one of 
those small things, but the bigger, full sized, heavy 
kind, and it hung from a thick round ring set into a 
two by four that stuck out from the wall.

He reached up with his hand, then let go of her wrist 
and gripped the big bag. He grunted as he lifted the 
hook off the ring, then flung the big bag down on the 
floor to one side.

"Mister Ramirez," she said worriedly.

"I just need to test the height of the ring bolted up 
there," he said.

"Te...test the...I..I have a measuring tape..."

"Not necessary," he said.

He gripped her arms and jerked her around and under the 
overhanging two by four, then raised her arms, sliding 
his hands up to her wrists and pinning them together 
high above her head.

"Wha...what are...?"

"Just about right," he said, holding her wrists firmly.

She looked up and saw that her hands were perhaps six 
inches under the thick round ring.

"M-mister Ramirez!" she protested.

"I need to step back to get a better look," he said.

His eyes flicked up and down, then he smiled. It was 
not a pleasant smile. Still holding her wrists above 
her he reached with his free hand to his tie, and 
quickly undid it.

"Mister... Mister R-Ramirez," she gulped. "I-I... 
really must... protest... I..."

"Shhh," he said.

He took off his tie, then pulled her wrists down in 
front of her. He pressed her hands tightly together, as 
though she were praying.

"Keep your hands together like that," he said, his 
voice low yet somehow compelling, forceful. She stared 
up at his face as she felt something going around her 
wrists, then looked down.

She saw him wrap the tie around her wrists once, then 
tie it. She gasped as he cinched it tight.

"Mister Ramirez!" she gasped.

"I need to see how it looks," he said.

"Wha...what?!" she gasped.

He wrapped the tie around her wrists again, then a 
third time, then took the end and pulled it between her 
wrists, pinching the loops encircling her wrists in 
tightly.

"No! Please, you...you'll have to stop this. Untie me!" 
she said, her voice shaky, cracking brittelly.

He ignored her, then raised her wrists up high again, 
he fed the free end of the tie through the round ring 
and pulled up hard, making her gasp in pain as the tie 
pulled in against her wrists, forcing her up almost 
onto her toes.

"Please! Mr. Ramirez!"

He tied the tie off, then stood back several paces. His 
eyes were cold, black ice. She stared at him in shock, 
then looked upwards, pulling against the tie, trying to 
free her wrists.

"Still something missing," he growled.

He came closer, stood inches away from her, then his 
hands went to the front of her silk blouse and he tore 
it open. She cried out, a short, sharp gasp of shock, 
then stared at him in fear.

He smiled, a very thin, cruel smile, then reached to 
her skirt, undid the zipper and buttons, and shoved it, 
letting it slide down to her ankles.

"Please," she whimpered.

He smiled again.

He slid his hand gently over her belly, then moved 
around behind her. Hand still on her belly, he gripped 
her hair, jerking her head up and back hard, making her 
cry out again. He kissed her lightly on the side of the 
throat, then let go of her hair.

He gripped the back of her blouse and tore it open, 
then ripped the remains of it to pieces. He bent and 
gripped her skirt, then yanked it away, pulling her 
feet out from under her. For a few seconds all her 
weight came down on the tie binding her wrists, and she 
cried out again as it cut into her soft, ivory flesh.

He moved around in front of her again, and pulled 
something from his suit pocket. It was a switchblade, 
and the blade snapped open, and glistened menacingly.

"Please don't hurt me!" she gasped.

He said nothing, but pressed the sharp edge of the 
blade against her throat, then caressed her skin with a 
feather's touch. The blade moved downwards over her 
chest, then over the elastic between the cups of her 
bra.

He slid the blade under it, pulling it outwards, then 
with a quick flick the cups parted and fell to either 
side, baring her firm, rounded breasts.

Stephanie began to tremble in fear, yet at the same 
time she felt a strong tingling between her legs. She 
didn't understand why or how, yet somehow, she believed 
that he would not hurt her, not permanently anyway.

With two quick slashes he cut the shoulder straps of 
her bra and it fell away in pieces. He slid the blade 
over her breasts slowly, sawing it lightly along the 
skin, then he pressed the sharp point against her right 
nipple and pressed inwards.

She felt a prick at first, which grew into a sharper, 
biting ache.

"Please," she whispered.

The knife eased off, then slid down her body and cut 
her garter belt away. He slid a thumb into the top of 
her left stocking and pulled it away from her thigh, 
then slid the knife against it and cut downwards, 
slicing the material apart.

He did the same to her other stocking, then gripped her 
right leg and yanked it up. She tried to balance 
herself on her left foot as he slid the stocking down, 
then removed it and her shoe.

He let her leg drop, then reached down and lifted her 
other, removing the shoe and stocking before letting 
that drop too.

Now clad in only a tiny pair of white lace G-string, 
Stephanie stood helplessly exposed to his eyes as he 
moved back several paces and examined her. He looked up 
at the two by four, then down at her. He raised his 
hand and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

He walked slowly around her, eyeing her firm, rounded 
buttocks, the tiny white lace disappearing between 
them. She felt his hand on her ass and gasped, jerking 
forward before being brought up short by the tie.

His finger slid inside the lace, then the knife cut it, 
then cut the small string around her waist. The G-
string fell to the floor, and she was naked.

His hand moved up and down her back, then he moved to 
her side, his left hand sliding down her spine and 
between her buttocks, down under them to cup her bare 
pussy mound. He smiled cruelly, his right hand cupping 
her breast, weighing it, his thumb stroking the nipple.

His hands shifted slowly, his right sliding from her 
breast, down over her belly, and in between her legs, 
his left sliding up her ass, then around her waist to 
cup her left breast. He leaned into her, his lips 
moving against the side of her throat, then the 
underside of her ear.

His fingers slid lightly up and down her pussy slit at 
first, then eased deeper, prying the soft lips apart 
and caressing the cleft between. Two fingers curled 
under and forced their way inside her, grinding over 
her clitty as they pushed all the way up to the 
knuckles.

Her chest was heaving, her breaths coming in harsh, 
strangled gasps and pants. She felt his fingers 
wriggling around in her pussy slit, then felt his thumb 
come down on her clitoris. It pressed down hard, then 
eased off and began to stroke roughly up and down.

His fingers moved with it, sliding in and out of her 
pussy slit, rolling and grinding her clitty between 
them and her thumb.

Stephanie's mind reeled as the heat raced through her 
veins. Her sex life, though healthy, had never 
encompassed anything like this. She had never slept 
with anyone she hadn't known for a long period of time. 
There were no...one night stands, no casual sex with 
people she barely knew.

She expected, no, demanded, to be treated with respect 
by her male friends and lovers, and that included in 
their sexual relationships.

This...this...sudden...submissiveness, allowing him to 
tie her up and strip her, this terrible, driving 
heat...this was like nothing in her experience. She 
didn't know what was going on or why. Her body felt a 
gut churning sexual need, and had almost since she'd 
laid eyes on him.

His left hand kneaded her left breast as he slid his 
tongue down her throat and over her right breast. He 
licked at her nipple, then sucked it into his mouth, 
sucking and chewing on it as she whimpered and moaned 
and shook in helpless pleasure.

He moved fully in front of her, taking his hands off 
her breast and pussy. He reached down to his pants and 
unzipped, then pulled his erect cock out. He smiled 
again, then his fingers dug into her right buttock, 
forcing her leg up and out to the side.

He pressed his boner against her slit, then quickly 
grabbed her ass in both hands and jerked her up off her 
feet. Her legs went around him and his cock thrust deep 
into her belly as she cried out in shock and pleasure 
and outrage, and felt his hard cockhead punch into her 
cervix.

His hands held her easily, and he began tearing his 
cock back and forth inside her soft guts, jerking her 
against him again and again. His teeth bit down on the 
nape of her neck and he sucked fiercely.

Stephanie's legs gripped his hips as she whimpered and 
moaned and shook in helpless delight. Her entire body 
throbbed with burning sex-heat, and her mind swam in a 
churning, bubbling stew that threatened to drown her.

She felt his hardness up inside her, 
thrusting...thrusting...thrusting...driving into the 
deepest depths of her fuck tunnel on each savage 
pounding stroke.

She felt the crackling heat ripping through her nervous 
system, shorting out her brain. She cried out in bliss, 
a blast wave of pleasure tearing through her guts and 
searing her mind with its blossoming strength.

She bounced mindlessly in his hands as he rodded his 
pole up into her again and again. Her head bounced up 
and down and her eyes rolled back in her head as he 
jerked her violently against him, grinding himself into 
her.

He came, spewing a thick, steaming mass of white hot 
liquid sex into her belly, pumping wad after wad up 
into her womb as she thrashed and writhed in wild 
abandon.

He pulled back, then let go of her ass, letting her 
legs drop to the floor. She tried to stand up, but 
couldn't quite make her mind and body work together. 
She hung by the wrists, groaning and twitching.

He put his cock back into his pants, then reached for 
his belt, unbuckling it, then sliding it out of the 
loops. He moved around behind her as she started to get 
her feet on the floor, then doubled the belt in his 
fist and eyed her smooth, white back.

He raised the belt and slashed it down on her round ass 
cheeks.

Stephanie felt something hit her ass just as she was 
shaking off the languorous sexual steam that had been 
clouding her mind. She felt the blow, then, a second 
later, a shocking, ripping blast of pain tore through 
her buttocks.

She screamed, her body lurching forward as she tried to 
escape the fire behind her. But she couldn't move far, 
and the belt lashed down again, cracking against her 
soft ass cheeks as she shrieked and sobbed in pain.

She twisted around, as if somehow, with her ass out of 
his way he would have no target for his violence. She 
saw him standing there, arm raised, the belt dangling 
from his fist, then he swung it down across her right 
breast.

The pain shattered her mind and flung her backwards. 
She lost her footing and her feet jerked and clawed at 
the floor as the belt cut across her breast again. She 
twisted around, howling and screaming, only to feel the 
belt crack against her back.

Again and again the belt lashed down on her back, 
starting at her shoulders, then working its way down to 
the small of her back, then over her buttocks. Angry 
red welts rose all down her back and buttocks as the 
belt cut through the air again and again.

She stopped screaming as her back flared with burning 
pain, each new blow drawing barely a grunt from the 
dazed, glassy eyed woman.

He moved around in front of her, then slashed the belt 
across her right breast.

She screamed now, a mindless howl of agony as her 
throbbing breast bounced and shook and burned with 
pain. Again the belt cracked down, this time against 
her other breast, then it hit the first, then lashed 
over her belly.

He took his time, his arm rising and falling, rising 
and falling, the belt making her tits bounce and 
jiggle, or cracking into her thighs or stomach. He 
stopped finally, then put down the belt.

He went to a nearby curtain and cut down the curtain 
cord, then returned to where the woman hung limply from 
her wrists. He bent and wrapped the cord around her 
ankles, then lifted them up off the floor, raised her 
feet up, and pushed them back against her head. He then 
tied the cord to the metal ring above her and stood 
back.

She hung from wrists and ankles now, her legs pulled 
back against her body and her crotch exposed, her ass 
cheeks upthrust. He picked up the belt, raised it high, 
then took aim, and brought it down against her exposed 
pussy mound with all his weight.

Her head snapped back and she screamed in agony, her 
ass jerking up as well, and her entire body shaking and 
thrashing in frenzied desperation. Her eyes went wide 
and wild and she howled and shrieked as he slashed the 
belt down on her pussy again, then again, then again.

He had to shift his position as she twisted and jerked, 
swaying and swinging in circles as the belt whipped 
against her pussy.

Finally he stopped. He carefully slid the belt back 
through the loops of his trousers, then unzipped his 
fly and pulled his once more erect cock out. He rubbed 
the head up and down against her sweat-damp pussy 
crack, then pressed it against her anus and slowly 
forced it inside.

She moaned deliriously as his cock slowly worked its 
way up into her rectum. She whimpered, tears sliding 
down her cheeks as his cock jerked back and forth, 
going deeper and deeper. Then with a grunt he forced 
the last inch up into her ass cheeks and ground his 
hips against her ass.

His hands slid beneath her legs and gripped her 
breasts, squeezing and crushing them as he worked his 
cock back and forth in her ass. She looked at him 
through teary, slitted eyes, whimpering as his cock 
moved back and forth in her asshole.

His hips smashed against her ass, swinging her body 
back and forth under the two by four as he reamed out 
her tight tail. He said nothing, nor did he smile. He 
pumped his cock steadily, using her like she was a 
machine, jerking off inside her rectum.

He shuddered briefly as he came inside her, and pumped 
his sperm into her sucking bowels. Then he pulled his 
cock out and twisted her around until her head was 
before him. Her long hair hung down limply, and he 
grasped it and rubbed it around his cock, cleaning 
himself off.

He put his dick back in his pants then pulled out the 
knife again and flicked it open. He reached up and 
slashed at the curtain cord, cutting it. She grunted as 
her body unfolded, and her legs dropped down below her. 
Then he sliced through the tie, and she fell limp to 
the floor.

He turned and walked away, smiling slightly.

END

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 65