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#Abuse #Blackmail #Lesbian #Rape
By Relatively Speaking
Officer Boone arrives for her first private lesson. Lynda finds out that her pink slip has been transferred and sinks further into Boone’s clutches.
CHAPTER FOUR – The First Private Lesson
Lynda placed the last dish in the dishwasher, her movements swift and precise. She wiped down the counter, her eyes lingering on the clock. Six thirty-five. The evening air had the scent of rain-soaked earth and the distant hum of traffic. A soft knock echoed through the house.
“Mom, it’s an Officer Boone!” Mark called out from the entryway; his voice filled with surprise.
Lynda’s heart skipped a beat. She had almost forgotten about the promised private lessons. She took a deep breath, composing herself. “Okay, Mark, let her in,” she responded, trying to keep the tension out of her voice.
Officer Boone’s boisterous laughter filled the room as Mark swung the door open. She walked in, her eyes lighting up when she saw Lynda. “Hey, Mark, your mom’s looking sharp tonight!” she said, her gaze lingering a little too long for comfort.
Lynda managed a smile, her hands clenched at her sides. “Thank you, Officer Boone,” she said, trying to ignore the heat rising in her cheeks. Mark beamed, oblivious to the underlying tension, and led the cop into the living room.
“You’re a handsome young man Mark,” said the cop, hungrily devouring Mark’s youthful body with her eyes. Mark stood there beaming, oblivious to her intent. “I bet you have the girls lining up around the block.”
“Mark, If you don’t want to fall behind with classwork this year you need to go to your room and make a start.” said Lynda.
Mark groaned disappointingly but obeyed his mother. He gave Officer Boone a half-hearted wave as he made his way upstairs.
“So, where’s this famous piano?” Boone asked, her eyes scanning the room.
“It’s in the music room,” Lynda replied, gesturing down the hallway. “This way.”
As they walked, Boone’s hand brushed against Lynda’s lower back, a touch that was definitely not part of the lesson plan. Lynda stiffened but kept moving, her mind racing for a way to handle the situation without alarming Mark. Once in the music room, she quickly sat at the piano, putting some distance between them.
Boone locked the door behind them and pulled the curtains closed. She turned and looked at Lynda.
“Just so you know, Johnson and I traded. I got you, he got a younger piece of ass I caught for a hit and run. You belong to me now.”
Lynda’s blood turned cold. This was a new level of depravity. They were trading people as if they were cards in a game of “Go Fish”
Boone sat down next to Lynda on the piano bench, her thigh pressing into hers. The room suddenly felt too small, the air thick with the scent of the cop’s cheap perfume.
“But, Mark…” Lynda began, trying to keep her voice steady.
“Oh, don’t worry about him,” Boone interrupted, her hand moving to rest on Lynda’s shoulder. “He’s doing some classwork, remember? We’ve got a couple of hours together.”
Her stomach twisted in knots, Lynda’s mind raced, trying to think of a way out. She felt the weight of Boone’s hand increase slightly, the implication clear. With a shaky breath, she began to play a random melody, her eyes on the keys to avoid looking at the woman beside her.
“That’s pretty,” Boone said, her voice low and husky. “But I think we can do better.”
Her hand slid down to Lynda’s thigh, squeezing gently. Panic bubbled up inside her, but she couldn’t let it show. She had to think of Mark, had to keep him safe.
As she played, Lynda’s mind worked overtime, searching for an escape. She knew she couldn’t just push Boone away, not with her son in the house. Instead, she played louder, the notes echoing off the walls in an erratic rhythm that she hoped would drown out any sound of a struggle.
“What are you playing?” Boone leaned in, her breath hot on Lynda’s neck.
“It’s… it’s just something I know,” she said, her voice wavering. “It’s called ‘The Night Before the Storm.'”
The lie came easily, and it had the desired effect. Boone’s eyes lit up with curiosity, momentarily distracted from her advances. “I’ve never heard that one,” she said, leaning back slightly to listen.
The seconds ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. Lynda’s eyes darted around the room, searching for anything she could use to her advantage. The piano’s metronome caught her eye, and she realized it was within reach. She played faster, the music growing more frantic, her heart pounding in her chest.
“Sounds intense,” Boone murmured, her hand still on Lynda’s leg.
Beads of sweat began to appear on Lynda’s brow.
“You seem warm, why don’t you take off your jumper?” asked Boone.
Lynda felt trapped, but she knew she had to stay calm. With a shaky smile, she reached for the hem of her sweater and began to lift it up.
Boone watched as she removed her jumper. she admired Lynda’s svelte body now clad in just a tee shirt and jeans.
“Nice,” Boone murmured, her eyes lingering on the soft fabric clinging to Lynda’s curves.
“Stand up.” ordered Boone suddenly.
Lynda’s fingers froze on the piano keys. She slowly turned to face the officer, her heart racing.
“Why?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
“I want to see how well you obey orders,” Boone said, her voice a dark whisper.
Lynda swallowed hard, her eyes never leaving Boone’s. She stood up, the piano stool scraping against the floor. The music room felt suffocatingly small; the air thick with tension. Boone’s gaze travelled up and down her body, a smug smile playing on her lips.
“Take off your shoes.”
Lynda complied, her hands shaking as she unlaced her sneakers and stepped out of them, placing them neatly beside the piano.
“Good,” Boone said, her eyes never leaving Lynda’s. “Now, your jeans.”
Lynda’s heart hammered in her chest, but she forced herself to move, unbuttoning her jeans and sliding them down. She stepped out of them, feeling the cold floor against her bare feet. The music had stopped, and the room was filled with the sound of their ragged breaths.
“No underwear, good.” smiled Boone as she devoured Lynda’s naked sex with her eyes.
“You look ridiculous in just a tee shirt, lose that too.”
Lynda felt a surge of anger at Boone’s command. But she knew she had to keep playing along for Mark’s sake. She slowly lifted the shirt over her head, revealing her breasts. Boone’s eyes gleamed with excitement, and she leaned in closer, her breath hot and heavy.
“Turn around,” Boone ordered, her voice thick with desire.
Lynda complied, her back to the cop now, her eyes staring at the closed door.
“Now, let me see what I’ve won,” Boone murmured, her voice thick with lust.
Her hands were on Lynda before she could react, tracing the outline of her hips and sliding up her back.
“You’re so soft,” Boone whispered, her breath hot on Lynda’s neck.
Lynda flinched but remained still, her eyes glued to the door. “What do you want?” she asked, her voice a tremble.
“Just a little fun,” Boone whispered, her hands moving to cup Lynda’s breasts. “Don’t you ever want to let loose?”
Lynda felt bile rise in her throat but forced a nod. “What…what do you want me to do?”
Boone chuckled darkly. “First, I want you to sit back down,” she said, her voice a seductive purr. “Keep playing, make it nice and slow.”
Lynda felt a shiver of revulsion run down her spine, but she did as she was told. She sat back down at the piano, her naked thighs sticking to the cold leather bench. Her hands hovered over the keys, poised to play whatever Boone demanded. She began to pluck out a melody, the notes haunting and melancholic.
“Good,” Boone purred, moving to stand behind her. “Now, let’s see if I can make you feel a little more… relaxed.”
Her hand snaked around Lynda’s neck, her thumb brushing against her cheek as she leaned in closer. The woman’s breath was hot and sour, and Lynda had to fight the urge to recoil.
“Play something for me,” Boone whispered, her hands starting to knead Lynda’s shoulders.
Lynda’s stomach twisted, but she began to play a slow, sensual tune, hoping that it would be enough to satisfy the officer’s perverse desires without allowing things to escalate further. She felt Boone’s grip tighten as the music filled the room.
“That’s it,” Boone breathed in her ear, her fingers digging into the taut muscles of Lynda’s shoulders. “Make it sound like you’re playing just for me.”
The music grew more sensual, a silent plea for mercy wrapped in a seductive melody. Each note was a thread in the delicate tapestry of control that Lynda was desperately trying to maintain. Boone’s hands slid down from her shoulders to her breasts, squeezing them roughly.
“Keep playing,” she ordered, her voice a gruff whisper that sent chills down Lynda’s spine.
Lynda’s fingers danced over the piano keys, the music now a desperate serenade to stall Boone’s advances. Her breasts were exposed to the cool air, the painful grip of the cop’s hands on them a stark reminder of the power dynamics in the room. Despite her fear, she played on.
“Now, lean back,” Boone said, her voice low and demanding.
Lynda complied, feeling the cop’s body press against her.
“You’re so tense,” Boone murmured, her hands moving to Lynda’s waist, pulling her back until she was almost lying on the bench. “Let me relax you.”
Lynda felt the woman’s breasts pressing against her back, her hips grinding into her. She bit her lip, the pain mixing with the fear and anger. But she didn’t stop playing. Her music grew wilder, more frenetic, as if it could somehow break the spell that had been cast over her.
“Keep going,” Boone whispered, her teeth grazing Lynda’s earlobe.
Lynda’s eyes squeezed shut, focusing on the painful pleasure of the piano keys under her fingertips.
“Open your eyes,” Boone’s gruff voice penetrated the cocoon of music.
Reluctantly, Lynda obeyed, her eyes fluttering open to meet Boone’s intense stare. The cop’s hand was on her stomach, sliding down towards the apex of her thighs.
“Stop playing, go sit in the chair.” she pointed to an armchair in the corner of the room.
Lynda’s eyes widened with fear, but she did as she was told. She crossed the room as gracefully as she could, the cold air making her nipples stand out like little soldiers. She sat in the chair, her back straight, her hands folded in her lap, and her eyes fixed on Boone.
The cop followed her, the click of her boots on the hardwood floor sounding like a death march. She leaned over Lynda, her hands on the chair’s arms, her face mere inches away.
“Now, tell me, Lynda,” Boone said, her breath warm. “How does it feel to have a woman touch you?”
Lynda’s cheeks flamed, but she kept her gaze steady. “It feels… fine,” she lied, her voice tight.
“Fine?” Boone smirked, her hand moving to stroke Lynda’s cheek. “We’ll have to work on your enthusiasm.”
Her thumb traced a line down to Lynda’s mouth, pressing against her lower lip. The intimate gesture sent a jolt of fear through her, but she forced herself to remain still.
“Kiss it,” Boone demanded.
Lynda’s stomach churned, but she leaned in, pressing her lips to Boone’s thumb. “Pretend you’re giving it a blow job”. Boone growled.
Her mouth moved to obey, sucking lightly on the digit, her eyes never leaving Boone’s. The taste was salty and unpleasant, but she kept going, hoping it would be enough.
“Good girl,” Boone murmured, her voice thick with lust.
The hand that had been stroking Lynda’s cheek now trailed down to her chest, teasing her nipples into stiff peaks. “You’re so responsive,” she said, her eyes glinting with victory.
“Please, just let me go,” Lynda whispered, her voice breaking.
Officer Boone chuckled, her eyes glinting with sadistic pleasure. “Not yet, darling. We’re just getting started.”
Her hand travelled lower, reaching between Lynda’s legs, and Lynda’s body tensed. “Open your legs,” Boone ordered, her voice a low growl.
Lynda hesitated, her eyes flickering to the door. Boone noticed and leaned in, her voice a seductive whisper. “Don’t worry about Mark. I’ll make sure he doesn’t hear a thing.”
With a sinking feeling in her gut, Lynda slowly parted her legs, allowing Boone’s hand to slip between her thighs. The cop’s touch was rough, her calloused fingers brushing against Lynda’s most intimate place. She gritted her teeth, fighting back a whimper as Boone’s hand began to explore.
“You’re already so wet,” Boone lied.
Lynda felt sick, but she didn’t dare to correct her. The last thing she needed was to provoke the monster before her. Her mind was racing, trying to come up with a way out of this nightmare.
“I’m going to make you feel so good. But first, take off my shirt,” Boone ordered, her voice a mix of authority and lust.
Lynda’s stomach churned as she reached for the buttons, her shaking hands fumbling with the fabric. With trembling fingers, she managed to unbutton the shirt, sliding it off Boone’s broad shoulders. The cop’s skin was flushed with excitement, her muscles tight.
“Now, the bra,” Boone instructed, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.
Lynda’s hands trembled as she reached around to unclasp the hooks of Boone’s bra. The undergarment fell away, revealing the cop’s petite breasts. Boone took a deep, satisfied breath.
“Now, the shoes,” Boone said, her eyes dark with desire.
Lynda swallowed hard and bent over to untie Boone’s shoes. Boone rested her hands on Lynda’s shoulders to aid her balance.
“You’re doing well,” Boone said, her voice a sinister purr. “Now, my pants.”
Lynda felt the bile rise in her throat, but she obeyed, her trembling hands moving to the officer’s belt. She could feel the woman’s hands on her neck as she unbuckled it, her heart racing with every touch. The zipper was next, the sound seemingly amplified in the tense silence of the room.
Boone’s pants fell to the floor, and she stepped out of them, leaving herself in nothing but her black underwear. “Good,” she murmured, her hand moving to caress Lynda’s cheek.
“Now, my panties, use your teeth.”
Lynda’s eyes widened in horror, but she knew she had no choice. She leaned in, her teeth grazing the fabric as she pulled it down. Boone’s skin was hot and sticky with desire, and the smell of her arousal filled the room.
“That’s it,” Boone murmured, her voice thick with lust. “Now, let’s see what you can do with that pretty mouth of yours.”
Her hand guided Lynda’s head down, forcing her to gaze at the cop’s naked crotch. The room spun, and Lynda felt the bile rise in her throat, but she knew she had to keep playing along. She leaned in, her teeth clenched and began to kiss Boone’s inner thighs. The woman’s skin was rough and unyielding.
“Higher,” Boone demanded, her hands tangling in Lynda’s hair.
Lynda’s stomach roiled as she followed the command, her mouth moving closer to Boone’s sex. She felt the cop’s anticipation in the tightening of her muscles, the way she leaned into the intimate kiss.
“Mmm, you’re a fast learner,” Boone moaned, her voice a dark symphony of lust.
Lynda’s eyes watered with fear and revulsion as she continued to kiss her way up Boone’s thighs.
“Good girl,” Boone cooed, her hand tightening in Lynda’s hair. “Now, lick me.”
Lynda’s heart raced as she followed the order, her tongue tentatively brushing against the woman’s clit. Boone’s body jerked, a low moan escaping her lips. The taste was bitter, and she had to fight back the urge to gag, but she knew she had to keep going.
“That’s it,” Boone breathed, her hips moving slightly to meet Lynda’s mouth. “Just like that.”
Lynda’s eyes squeezed shut as she tried to focus on anything but the task at hand.
“Look at me,” Boone ordered.
Lynda’s eyes snapped open, her gaze meeting Boone’s. The cop’s pupils were dilated with desire, her face a twisted mask of pleasure.
“That’s right,” Boone murmured, her voice a low growl. “Look at me while you do it.”
Lynda’s eyes remained locked on the cop’s, her mind racing for an escape. Boone’s grip on her hair tightened as she guided Lynda’s mouth closer to her sex, her moans growing louder with each stroke of the tongue.
“You’re going to make me come,” Boone hissed, her hips rocking slightly against Lynda’s face. “You’re going to make me scream.”
Lynda’s jaw ached from the effort of keeping her mouth open, her tongue moving in rhythmic strokes against the cop’s clit. The room was spinning, and she could feel her stomach lurch.
“Fuck, yes,” Boone groaned, her grip on Lynda’s hair tightening. “You’re going to make me come so hard.”
Lynda’s eyes never left Boone’s, her mind racing with the knowledge that she had to get out of this situation. The woman’s breaths grew ragged, her hips bucking against Lynda’s face.
“You’re so good at this,” Boone panted, her voice strained.
Lynda’s thoughts raced, searching for a way out. Her mouth continued its unwanted ministrations.
Suddenly, she heard a sound—a muffled thump from upstairs. “What was that?” she asked, her voice strained with hope.
“Just your little boyfriend playing in his room,” Boone said dismissively, her eyes never leaving Lynda’s face.
Lynda’s heart sank, but she didn’t miss a beat with her tongue. Another thump, louder this time, echoed through the house.
“Is he okay?” she asked, her voice strained with concern.
“Don’t worry about him,” Boone said, her eyes never leaving Lynda’s. “Just keep going.”
Lynda felt a flicker of hope as the thumping grew more insistent. Maybe Mark was trying to get her attention. She had to keep Boone distracted. She redoubled her efforts, her tongue moving faster, more urgently.
“Mom?” Mark’s voice called out, the sound of his door opening.
Lynda’s heart leaped with hope, but Boone’s grip tightened on her hair, pulling her mouth closer. “I said don’t worry about him,” she snarled.
“Mom!” Mark’s voice grew more urgent. “Is everything okay?”
The sound of his footsteps grew louder as he approached the music room. Boone’s eyes narrowed, and she yanked Lynda’s head back sharply. “Don’t you dare move,” she hissed.
Lynda nodded, her heart racing as she listened to Mark’s footsteps coming closer. “Mom?” he called out again, his voice filled with concern.
Officer Boone’s eyes flicked towards the door, a hint of irritation crossing her features. “You better not have told him anything,” she whispered, her grip on Lynda’s hair tightening.
“Mom!” Mark’s voice grew louder, and Lynda felt a wave of relief wash over her. She hadn’t told him, but maybe he had sensed something was wrong.
“Everything’s fine, sweetie,” she called out, her voice trembling. “Go back to your room.”
Her heart hammered in her chest as the footsteps paused, then receded. Boone’s grip on her hair loosened slightly, but the malicious grin never left her face.
“Good girl,” Boone murmured, her eyes gleaming with triumph. “Now, let’s pick up where we left off.”
Lynda felt the cop’s hand push her head back down, and she had to fight back a sob.
“You’re mine,” Boone said, her voice a dark promise. “And nobody’s going to save you.”
Lynda’s eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t dare disobey. She leaned back in, her tongue returning to the task at hand.
“That’s it,” Boone murmured, her hips moving in time with Lynda’s mouth.
Lynda felt a bead of sweat roll down her forehead, her eyes still locked on Boone’s. The woman’s breaths grew shallower, and her grip on Lynda’s hair tightened. Each second felt like an eternity..
Boone’s thighs quivered around her face, and Lynda knew the moment was approaching.
“You’re going to make me cum.” Boone whispered.
Lynda’s mind was a tornado of fear and revulsion, but she didn’t dare stop.
“Yes,” Boone whispered, her body trembling with pleasure. “Just like that.”
Lynda felt a bead of sweat roll down her spine as she worked harder, her tongue flicking faster against the cop’s sensitive flesh. The sound of Boone’s moans filled the room, grating on her nerves like nails on a chalkboard.
Mmm, that’s it,” Boone encouraged, her voice thick with pleasure. “You’re going to make me cum so hard.”
Boone’s breath grew more ragged. She was close.
“You’re doing so good,” she moaned, her voice strained with pleasure. “Almost there.”
Lynda’s tongue continued to dance around Boone’s clit, the taste of her growing more bitter with each passing second. Her jaw ached, and she could feel her gag reflex threatening to take over.
“Yes,” Boone groaned, her hips moving more erratically. “You’re going to make me scream.”
The sound of Boone’s voice, filled with pleasure, made Lynda’s stomach twist.
“Fuck,” Boone growled, her hips jerking as she climaxed.
Lynda felt the cop’s release with a mix of relief and disgust. Boone’s grip on her hair loosened, and she pulled back, gasping for air. The woman’s eyes were glazed over with satisfaction, her chest heaving.
“Good girl,” Boone murmured, her voice a low purr. “You’ve got quite the talent for that.”
Lynda didn’t respond, her eyes still focused on the floor. She could feel Boone’s hand stroking her hair, the gesture oddly tender after the violent act that had just occurred.
“Look at me,” Boone whispered, her voice now soft and gentle.
Lynda raised her eyes, her gaze meeting Boone’s, searching for any hint of humanity. But all she saw was a predator basking in victory. Boone’s hand slid down to cup Lynda’s cheek, her thumb tracing circles as she studied her.
“You’re so beautiful,” Boone murmured, her voice a stark contrast to the harshness of moments ago. “And so obedient.”
Lynda’s eyes searched Boone’s face for any sign of pity or remorse, but she found only satisfaction.
“Now, stand up,” Boone said, her voice still a soft whisper.
Lynda’s legs felt like jelly as she complied, her eyes never leaving Boone’s. She could feel the woman’s eyes on her, a greedy hunger that made her want to shrink away.
“Take my hand,” Boone said, extending her hand.
Lynda hesitated, her eyes flicking towards the door, then back to Boone’s face. With trembling hands, she placed her cold fingers in Boone’s warm, calloused grasp. The cop led her over to the piano bench, her touch surprisingly gentle.
“Sit,” Boone instructed, her voice a soft command that sent a shiver down Lynda’s spine.
Lynda complied, her legs wobbling as she took a seat on the bench. Boone pulled over a stool right behind Lynda and sat on it. She wrapped her legs around Lynda and leaned in against her. Lynda could feel the heat of Boone’s naked body as she embraced her from behind
“Do you know “Für Elise?” she asked. Lynda nodded; it was one of the first pieces she learned. “I love listening to it after I’ve fucked.” said Boone. “Play it for me.”
Lynda took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. She placed her hands back on the piano keys and began to play. The melody filled the room, a stark contrast to the depraved act that had just occurred. Boone’s breathing evened out as she listened, her hand sliding around to rest on Lynda’s stomach.
“You’re so good,” Boone murmured, her voice a warm caress that sent shivers down Lynda’s spine. “I knew you’d be perfect. So much better than that dumb whore I traded for you.”
Lynda’s fingers paused on the keys, the words stinging like a slap. Boone’s grip on her tightened. “Don’t stop playing,” she ordered, her tone a mix of sweetness and steel.
Lynda took a shaky breath and continued, the music a painful reminder of her innocence lost. The melody of “Für Elise” danced in the air, a tragic serenade to her shattered dignity. Each note seemed to echo her silent screams, a poignant contrast to Boone’s contented sighs.
“That’s it,” Boone whispered in her ear, her breath tickling the sensitive skin of Lynda’s neck. “Keep playing for me.”
Boone lifted her hand up to Lynda’s mouth, her fore and middle fingers pressed against her lips. “Suck them.” she ordered.
Lynda’s stomach turned at the thought, but she knew she had no choice. She took Boone’s fingers into her mouth and began to suckle. Boone’s expression grew smug as she watched Lynda’s submission play out, her other hand still resting on her stomach.
“Mmm,” Boone murmured, her eyes half-closed. “Just like that.”
She withdrew her fingers from Lynda’s mouth and dropped her hand to between her thighs. “Spread your legs.” she said.
Lynda felt a cold knot of dread in her stomach, but she did as she was told. Boone’s hand slid up her inner thigh and she knew what was coming next. She took a deep breath and focused on the music, her eyes squeezed shut.
She almost cried out as Boone penetrated her digitally, but she just managed to bite her lip in time.
“You’re so wet for me,” Boone said, her voice thick with satisfaction. “Do you want me to make you come?”
Lynda’s eyes remained squeezed shut, her fingers tightening on the piano keys. “No,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “Please, just don’t.”
“Why not?” Boone’s voice was a silky whisper. “You know you want it.”
Her fingers moved with a sinister rhythm, mimicking the melody of the piano. Lynda’s eyes watered with pain and humiliation, but she didn’t stop playing. The music was her only defense, a wall she clung to, hoping it would keep her from breaking apart.
“You’re so responsive,” Boone cooed, her hand working faster. “It’s like you’re begging for it.”
Lynda gritted her teeth, playing the piano with a ferocity that matched the horror playing out in her mind. Her body responded despite her revulsion, a traitorous betrayal that she couldn’t control. She felt a tear slip down her cheek, landing on her naked breast.
“Yes, just like that,” Boone whispered, her voice a dark symphony of pleasure. “You’re going to come for me.”
Lynda’s eyes remained squeezed shut as Boone’s fingers worked their magic, the woman’s touch a mix of revulsion and a disturbing form of pleasure. The room was a cacophony of Boone’s sultry whispers and the haunting melody of Beethoven. She felt her body betraying her, Protecting her from the unwanted intrusion.
Her eyes flew open as Boone’s fingers slid deeper, the music hitting a crescendo that matched the horror of the moment. “Stop,” she gasped, her voice strained.
“Why?” Boone’s breath was hot against her neck, her fingers unrelenting. “You’re so close.”
“Please,” Lynda begged, her voice breaking. “I can’t.”
Officer Boone’s eyes gleamed with sadistic pleasure as she leaned in closer, her breath hot against Lynda’s ear. “You can,” she whispered, her hand moving faster. “You will.”
The room spun around Lynda as she felt her body start to respond, despite her mind’s screaming protests. She bit her lip hard, the taste of copper flooding her mouth as she fought back the moan that threatened to escape.
“See?” Boone whispered, her voice smug. “You want this.”
Lynda’s breath hitched as the woman’s fingers worked their way inside her, her body responding despite her will. She couldn’t help but whimper, the pleasure mixing with the pain in a twisted dance that made her stomach churn.
“That’s it,” Boone murmured, her voice a dark purr of satisfaction. “Let go, Lynda. Give in to it.”
Lynda’s eyes remained closed, her fingers moving over the piano keys as if her life depended on it. The music grew more frenzied, matching the rhythm of Boone’s hand. Her breathing grew ragged, each note a silent cry for help.
“Come for me,” Boone urged, her voice low and seductive. “Let me feel you come apart in my arms.”
Lynda’s breath was coming in ragged gasps, her body on the edge of a precipice she didn’t want to fall over. The music grew more frantic, her fingers flying over the piano keys in a desperate bid to hold onto something, anything, other than the sickening pleasure Boone was forcing on her.
“Please,” she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t.”
“You can,” Boone insisted, her breath warm against Lynda’s neck. “You will.”
Lynda felt the pressure building, the sickening pleasure that Boone had coaxed from her body. She wanted to fight it, to push the cop away and reclaim her dignity, but she was trapped, a pawn in a twisted game she hadn’t consented to play. The music grew wilder, her hands a blur on the piano keys.
“Yes,” Boone hissed, her own excitement palpable as she felt Lynda’s body tense. “Come for me.”
Lynda’s eyes squeezed shut tighter as the music grew more erratic, her body shaking with the effort of resisting the climax that was building within her. The room was spinning, the notes of “Für Elise” a chaotic symphony of pain and pleasure.
“You’re so close,” Boone murmured, her breath hot and moist against Lynda’s neck. “Give it to me.”
Lynda’s body tensed as she felt the wave of pleasure cresting, despite her desperate attempts to hold it back. The music grew wilder, her fingers stumbling over the keys as she neared the edge.
“Come for me, Lynda,” Boone breathed, her voice a dark caress. “Give me what I want.”
Lynda’s body was a live wire, her every nerve ending alight with the sickening pleasure that Boone had wrung from her. She stopped playing entirely and leaned back against Boone.
“Do it,” Boone growled, her hand still moving with purpose between Lynda’s legs. “Make me proud.”
The music had stopped, but the echoes of the last notes hung in the air like a mournful sigh. Lynda’s body was a battleground of emotions, her mind screaming for it to end while her body succumbed to the relentless manipulation. With a shuddering gasp, she gave in to the climax, her body convulsing against Boone’s hand.
The cop leaned back, a smug smile playing on her lips as she watched Lynda’s release. She brought the fingers that had made Lynda climax to her mouth and sucked off the juices.
“Delicious,” she murmured, her eyes gleaming.
Lynda felt a fresh wave of revulsion crash over her as Boone licked her own fingers clean.
“See,” Boone said, her voice a smug purr, “you liked it after all.”
Lynda’s eyes snapped open, the reality of what had just happened slapping her in the face like a cold wet towel. The room felt too warm, too suffocating. She had to get out of here, she had to get away from this monster. But as she pushed herself to her feet, her legs felt like jelly, and she stumbled backward.
Boone’s eyes narrowed, a hint of anger flashing across her features. “Where do you think you’re going?” she asked, her voice cold and hard.
Lynda stumbled backward, her legs still shaking from the forced climax. “I… I need to get dressed,” she managed to say, her voice hoarse.
“Not yet,” Boone said, her eyes still gleaming with desire. “We’re not finished here.”
Lynda’s heart sank, but she didn’t dare protest. She knew that any show of resistance would only fuel Boone’s sadistic delight. She took a deep, trembling breath, trying to compose herself.
“Fine,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “But can I at least get some water?”
“Sure,” Boone said, her smile returning. “But get it like that, I don’t want you getting any ideas and running off.”
“What if Mark comes down?”
“Then make it quick.”
Lynda nodded and walked to the kitchen, her legs feeling like they might give out at any moment. Boone followed her, her eyes never leaving Lynda’s body. The cold air hit her naked body like a slap, and she couldn’t help but shiver. She grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water from the tap, her hands shaking so badly she had to steady herself against the counter.
“You know,” said Boone, her voice a low purr, “you’re going to have to get used to this.”
Lynda took a sip of the water, her throat parched and raw from the recent ordeal. She could feel Boone’s eyes on her, devouring her nakedness with a hunger that made her want to scream.
“What do you mean?” she asked, playing dumb, her voice shaking slightly.
“I mean,” Boone said, her voice a lazy drawl, “that you’re going to have to get used to being naked.”
Lynda’s hand tightened around the glass, the cool condensation feeling almost soothing against her flaming skin. She didn’t dare turn around.
“Why?” she croaked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Because,” Boone said, her voice filled with a dark amusement, “you’re mine now.”
Lynda’s heart pounded in her chest as she felt Boone’s hand trace the curve of her waist from behind, the heat of her fingers stark against her own cold skin.
“Mine,” Boone repeated, her voice a soft growl that sent shivers down Lynda’s spine. “And I’ll be back for more lessons.”
Lynda took another sip of water, her throat tight. “What if Mark finds out?”
Boone’s hand slid around to her stomach, her grip firm but not painful. “He won’t,” she assured, her voice dropping to a threatening whisper. “As long as you do exactly what I say.”
Lynda nodded, the water in her hand trembling. The thought of Mark walking in on this nightmare was too much to bear. She had to keep him safe, even if it meant enduring more of Boone’s sick games.
“Good,” Boone murmured, her hand sliding away. “Now, let’s get dressed.”
Lynda nodded, her legs still shaking as she turned to face the cop. Boone’s expression was unreadable, a mask of calm over the storm of depravity that Lynda knew lurked beneath the surface. She took a deep breath and walked back into the music room, her eyes searching for her clothes. As she bent to pull on her clothes, Boone snatched her panties away. She took a long sniff of them and smiled at Lynda.
“You don’t need these, remember. I never want to find you wearing any underwear.”
Lynda tried to compose herself, pushing aside the feeling of violation that clung to her like a second skin.
“Get dressed,” Boone ordered, her voice a smoky whisper. “And remember, not a word to anyone.”
Lynda nodded, her eyes cast downward as she drew on her jeans, her cheeks flaming with humiliation. The fabric felt cold and foreign against her skin, her trembling fingers fumbling with the zipper. She pulled the tee shirt over her head. She reached for the Jumper, but Boone stopped her.
“You don’t need that. You look quite flushed.”
Boone’s words cut through the silence, and Lynda’s hands stilled on the jumper. The cop stepped closer, her eyes raking over Lynda’s half-dressed form. With a cruel twist of her wrist, she tossed the garment aside. “Let’s keep it this way,” she murmured, “for now.”
Her eyes never leaving Boone, Lynda felt a surge of anger, but she knew better than to protest. She swallowed the bile rising in her throat and forced a shaky smile. “As you wish,” she said, her voice a brittle shard of glass.
Officer Boone chuckled; her eyes gleaming with amusement. “You’re catching on,” she said, her hand tracing a path down Lynda’s arm.
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