Dominating the Music Teacher – Part 5

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#Abuse #Blackmail #Lesbian #Rape

By Relatively Speaking

Officer Boone expands her control over Lynda.

CHAPTER 5 – The Sleepover

The rest of the week had gone without another visit. She had managed to put her ordeal behind her, slightly.
“Hey Mark, you forgot your bag,” Lynda called out, as Mark dashed out the door to meet his friends. He had a sleepover planned for the weekend, and the excitement was palpable.
Turning to her son, she handed him his bag and asked, “Are you sure you don’t need me to pack anything else?”
“No, Mom, I’ve got everything. Thanks!” Mark called back, his voice already fading as he disappeared around the corner.
Lynda took a deep breath. She had mixed feelings about this weekend. On one hand, she was relieved to have the house to herself, a rare occasion that promised a quiet retreat from her demanding job. On the other hand, she knew that Mark’s absence meant she’d have to face something she’d been putting off. She glanced at the clock; it was almost time for Boone’s arrival.
The doorbell chimed, and she walked over to the door, trying to shake off the unease. She opened it to find Boone standing there, her tall frame casting a shadow in the dim evening light.
“Good evening, Lynda,” she said.
“Hi, come in,” Lynda managed with a smile, stepping aside to let her in. The tension grew as the door clicked shut behind her.
Boone glanced around the house, noticing the lack of Mark’s usual clutter. “Looks like we’ve got the place to ourselves,” she commented, a hint of something unreadable in her eyes.
Lynda nodded, her stomach doing a little flip. “Yeah, he’s at a sleepover.”
“Perfect,” Boone said, her smile not reaching her eyes. “That means we can focus on each other without interruptions.”
Her words hung in the air, and Lynda felt a shiver run down her spine. She led Boone into the living room, trying to ignore the sudden dryness in her mouth. The house felt eerily quiet without Mark’s laughter echoing through the halls. Boone took a seat on the couch, her eyes scanning the room with a sense of entitlement.
“So, where do we begin?” Boone asked, her voice a low purr that seemed to fill the space between them. “How about you show me how well you follow orders, take off your clothes.”
Lynda’s heart raced, and she swallowed hard. She’d known this was coming, but hearing it spoken aloud was like a cold hand grasping her throat.
“What?” she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper.
“You heard me,” Boone said, her tone firm and unyielding. “Strip.”
Lynda felt a mix of fear and anger bubbling up inside her. With trembling hands, she began to unbutton her blouse. The sound of fabric slipping over skin was amplified in the stillness of the house. As she let the material fall to the floor, she caught a glint in Boone’s eyes that sent a wave of revulsion through her.
“Good,” Boone murmured, her gaze lingering on Lynda’s exposed flesh. “Now the rest.”
Lynda took a deep, shaky breath and unzipped her jeans. The fabric slid down her legs, pooling around her ankles. She stepped out of them, trying to maintain a shred of dignity as she stood before Boone, naked. The cool air of the room prickled against her skin, and she felt more vulnerable than she had in years.
Boone’s eyes raked over her body, a predatory gleam in them that made Lynda’s stomach churn.
“Perfect, now I have a little home movie for us to watch, to get us in the mood.” she handed Lynda a flash drive. “Put that on and come sit beside me.” she said.
Lynda’s hand trembled as she took the drive, her mind racing with a million thoughts, none of them good. She plugged it into the TV and sat next to Boone, her knees drawn up to her chest. The screen flickered to life, revealing the edited video of her rape the night her life changed.
In it she was begging the men to fuck her.
The scene from the video played out in stark detail, the sound of her own voice, filled with fear and despair, echoing through the room. Bile rose in her throat as she watched the three men she didn’t know, but recognized, brutalize her. Her body had never felt so violated, so used.
The words that seemed to come from her own mouth made it appear that she was not only a willing participant but was actively encouraging the acts.
“Deepfake, it’s amazing!” sneered Boone.
The room spun around her as she watched the horrific scene unfold on the screen. It was a twisted, stolen moment from her past, and now it was being used as a sick form of entertainment. Her own words, twisted and manipulated, played out like a script she’d never written.
“Look at you,” Boone said, her voice thick with amusement. “So eager for it, even when you didn’t know you were asking for it.”
Lynda felt the bile rise in her throat as she stared at the twisted version of herself on the screen. Her eyes burned with unshed tears of rage and despair. Boone’s hand reached over, caressing her thigh, and she flinched away. The woman’s touch was like a hot brand on her skin.
“You know what this means,” Boone whispered, her breath warm against Lynda’s ear. “Nobody would believe a word that came out of your mouth.”
Lynda’s eyes remained glued to the screen, her mind reeling. She couldn’t bring herself to look away from the nightmare playing out before her eyes. The touch of Boone’s hand was a living reminder of the power dynamics at play here. She felt trapped.
“Turn it off,” she managed to croak, her voice barely audible.
“But it’s just getting to the good part,” Boone said, her hand sliding up Lynda’s thigh, her grip tightening.
“Please, just turn it off,” Lynda begged, her voice cracking. The video on the screen continued to play, each second a new layer of horror.
Boone chuckled, leaning back into the couch. She took her time, drawing out the moment before finally grabbing the remote. The room fell silent except for the sound of Lynda’s ragged breathing.
“Alright, if you insist,” Boone said, her voice thick with amusement as paused the film. “But you’re going to have to make it up to me.”
Her hand slid further up Lynda’s thigh, sending another wave of revulsion through her. “I want you to show me how much you enjoyed it,” she said, her eyes locked on Lynda’s. “You’re going to sit here and tell me everything that turned you on.”
Lynda felt like she was going to be sick. “I can’t,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.
“Can’t or won’t?” Boone’s hand inched closer to her crotch. “I’m not going anywhere until I get what I want.”
The weight of Boone’s hand was unbearable, but Lynda knew she had to find a way out of this. She took a deep, shaky breath, her mind racing for a solution. “Fine,” she said, her voice brittle.
“If that’s what you need to hear.”
Boone’s smile grew wider, a dark victory in her eyes. “That’s more like it,” she said, her hand pausing just shy of Lynda’s crotch.
Lynda took a deep breath, willing herself to find a shred of control in this nightmare. “Okay,” she began, her voice a forced calm. “I liked…” she swallowed hard, fighting the nausea. “I liked…the way the lighting made everything seem so…intimate.”
Boone’s smile grew wider, the sadistic gleam in her eyes never leaving Lynda. “Go on,” she urged, her hand starting to move again.
“And… and the way the sounds were muffled,” Lynda continued, her voice tight with fear and anger. She was lying, of course. The lighting and sounds had been anything but intimate, but she had to play the game if she wanted to survive this night.
Boone’s eyes lit up at the sound of Lynda’s words, her hand moving closer to its target. “Muffled sounds, huh?” she mused. “Tell me more.”
Lynda felt a bead of sweat trickle down her spine as she searched for more details to feed Boone’s depraved fantasy. “The way the bed creaked, it was like a secret melody,” she lied, her voice tight. “It made everything feel so…raw.”
Boone leaned in, her hand now cupping Lynda’s crotch. “Mm, and what else?” she demanded.
Lynda’s mind raced as she tried to keep her voice steady. “The… the way the shadows danced on the walls,” she said, her stomach twisting. “It was like we were the only ones in the world.”
Boone’s thumb began to stroke her, a slow, deliberate movement that made Lynda’s skin crawl. “Very good,” she purred. “Now tell me, what did you do when they were inside you?”
Lynda’s eyes squeezed shut, the memories of that night flooding back. She had to push through the pain to survive this. “I… I took it,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I took everything they gave me.”
“And you liked it,” Boone said, her voice a low growl.
Lynda forced herself to nod, the lie thick in her throat. “Yes,” she whispered, the word barely escaping her lips.
“Say it,” Boone insisted, her thumb pressing harder. “Say you liked it.”
The room was spinning, but Lynda knew she had to keep playing along. “I liked it,” she said, the words feeling like acid on her tongue.
Boone leaned closer; her breath hot against Lynda’s cheek. “That’s more like it,” she whispered. “Now, tell me, who was your favourite?”
Lynda’s mind reeled as she tried to remember the faces of the men who had hurt her. She couldn’t give Boone the satisfaction of knowing how much she truly despised all of them. “I… I don’t know,” she said, her voice shaking. “They were all so… overwhelming.”
“Ly, Ly, Ly,” Boone chastised, her voice a mocking sing-song. “You have to pick one. Who was it that made you scream the loudest?”
She picked up the remote again and started the movie from where it had stopped.
The images on the screen brought back a torrent of painful memories. The men’s faces, twisted in pleasure, the tears streaming down her own cheeks, the blood that had been spilled.
“Well?” Boone’s voice was impatient, her thumb moving in a slow circle that made Lynda’s skin crawl.
Lynda took a deep breath, her eyes still glued to the screen.
All of a sudden she heard her own voice scream “Fuck me Mark!”.
It was a voice that didn’t belong to her, a scene that never happened, but Boone had done her homework. She knew Mark was her weakness and she had found a way to exploit it. The room felt like it was closing in on her, the walls seemed to breathe in sync with her racing heart. Boone’s hand tightened around her throat, her eyes gleaming with triumph.
“Were you thinking about Mark?” Boone whispered, her breath hot against Lynda’s cheek. “Were you imagining your son when those men were inside of you?”
Lynda’s eyes snapped open, her body tensing with horror. Boone’s thumb was now pressing hard against her clit, a sadistic smile playing on her lips as she watched the distress unfold on Lynda’s face.
“Do you often imagine your son when some random stranger is fucking you?”
“You know that’s not me, they’re not my words.”
“But Mark doesn’t, what would your son think if he heard his mother scream his name while she was getting fucked?”
The room seemed to spin around her, the walls closing in tighter as she realized the depth of Boone’s depravity. “Please,” she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. “Stop.”
“Why would I do that?” Boone asked, her thumb increasing its cruel dance. “I’m enjoying this, aren’t you?”
Lynda’s mind reeled, searching for a way to escape the horror that was unfolding before her. The thought of Mark hearing that, believing those vile things about her, was too much to bear.
“Please,” she begged again, her voice strained. “Please, just stop.”
“What would everyone in town think, their esteemed music teacher fantasizing about her son fucking her? Do you think they’d allow their children to be taught by someone like that?”
Lynda felt a surge of panic. The thought of her reputation, her son’s reputation, being destroyed by this monster was unbearable.
“I’ll do anything,” she choked out, her voice trembling. “Just don’t show that to anyone.”
“Only if you’re a good girl,” said Boone, “I might just keep it our little secret. You can even help me make some more memories.”
Her hand slithered away from Lynda’s groin and started unbuttoning her own shirt. Her eyes never left Lynda’s, the coldness in them sending another shiver down her spine.
“You want to keep your job, don’t you?” Boone’s voice was a sultry whisper, filled with malice. “You want to protect Mark?”
Lynda nodded, her eyes wide with fear and desperation. “Anything,” she croaked.
Boone leaned back, her shirt open, revealing her bra-less breasts. “Good,” she purred. “Now, let’s get more comfortable.”
Lynda felt a cold sweat break out over her body as Boone stood up.
“Come,” Boone beckoned, her voice a seductive purr that made Lynda’s skin crawl. “Let’s move this to somewhere more private.”
Her eyes never leaving Boone’s, Lynda stumbled to her feet, feeling like she was moving through quicksand. They walked down the hallway, the sound of their footsteps echoing through the empty house. Boone led her into Mark’s room, a space that had once been a bastion of innocence, now tainted by the woman’s vile intentions.
The sight of her son’s unmade bed sent a fresh wave of nausea through her. Boone noticed her discomfort and chuckled darkly.
“I know, it’s a bit twisted, isn’t it?” she said, her eyes glinting with malicious pleasure. “But it’ll make this so much more memorable.”
Lynda felt the bile rising in her throat as she took in the room. The posters of rock bands and superheroes seemed to watch her with accusation, as if they knew what was happening, a painful reminder of the sanctity of the space she was about to defile.
“You want to do it here?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
“Why not?” Boone replied, her eyes gleaming. “It’ll make it all the more real for you. Now, get on the bed.”
Lynda’s legs felt like they were made of lead, but she managed to climb onto the bed. She couldn’t bear to look at Boone, instead focusing on the ceiling, trying to find something, anything, to distract her from the horror of what was about to happen.
“Lie down,” Boone instructed, her voice cold and commanding. “I want you to spread your legs for me, like a good little slut.”
The words hit Lynda like a slap across the face, stinging with their cruelty. Her mind raced, desperately searching for a way out, but she knew there was no escape. She lay back, her body stiff as a board, and did as she was told.
Boone finished taking off her own clothes.
Her naked form was a stark contrast to the soft light that filled Mark’s room. The darkness in her eyes washed over Lynda like a wave of despair.
“Look at me,” Boone ordered.
Lynda’s gaze fell to meet hers, and she was lost in the sea of malice. Boone’s naked body hovered over her. Her stomach lurched at the sight, but she forced herself to maintain eye contact, to not give Boone the satisfaction of seeing her completely break.
“Good,” Boone murmured, her hand sliding down to caress Lynda’s cheek. “Now, let’s make sure you’re ready for me.”
Lynda felt the woman’s fingers probe her, and she bit back a scream.
Boone’s touch was cold and clinical, as if she were examining a piece of meat rather than a human being.
Lynda’s eyes remained locked on Boone’s, her mind racing for a way to stop this. But she knew that fighting back would only make it worse. With a sickening sense of defeat, she allowed Boone’s fingers to continue their intrusion, trying to find some semblance of control in her own body’s response.
Boone’s eyes narrowed in pleasure as she felt Lynda’s body begin to betray her. “That’s it,” she murmured, her voice a dark purr. “Let me in, let me feel how much you want this.”
Lynda’s jaw clenched as she forced herself to endure the unwelcome touch. She knew her body’s reactions were involuntary, a twisted biological response to the situation she was in, and she hated herself for it.
“See?” Boone said, her voice smug. “You want this as much as I do.”
Lynda felt a tear slip down her cheek, the weight of the lie too much to bear. But she remained silent, her eyes still fixed on Boone’s.
“Good,” Boone said, her voice thick with satisfaction as she felt Lynda’s body react. “Now, let’s get to the main event.”
Her hand withdrew, and she positioned herself between Lynda’s trembling legs. The room felt stifling, the air heavy with the scent of fear and disgust. Boone’s hand found its way back to Lynda’s crotch, her fingers roughly spreading her open.
“Look at you,” she said, her voice thick with lust. “So wet and ready for me.”
Lynda’s stomach clenched in disgust, but she knew she had to play along. She forced a whimper of pleasure, feeling the bile rise in her throat.
“That’s it,” Boone cooed, her own excitement evident. She leaned in, her hot breath ghosting over Lynda’s skin. “Now, let’s really get started.”
Lynda felt Boone’s weight shift, and she braced herself for the inevitable. Boone’s hand slid away, and she felt the woman’s thighs pressing against hers. The anticipation was almost unbearable, a mix of fear and revulsion that made her want to scream.
“Look at me,” Boone whispered, her eyes burning into Lynda’s.
Lynda swallowed hard, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment before she forced them open. She met Boone’s gaze, willing herself to keep the bile down.
“Have you ever heard of tribbing?” asked Boone.
Lynda’s eyes widened in horror as she felt Boone’s wetness pressing against her thighs.
“No,” she whimpered, her voice barely audible.
“It’s when two women grind their pussies together,” Boone explained, her voice a low growl of excitement. “It’s one of my favorite ways to get off.”
Lynda felt a cold sweat break out over her body. She had never done anything like this before, and the thought of it made her stomach churn. But she knew she had to keep playing along if she wanted to survive the night.
Boone’s hand reached over, grabbing her chin, forcing her to look into those cold, predatory eyes. “You’re going to love it,” she whispered, a sadistic smile playing on her lips.
Lynda felt a fresh wave of panic. “I don’t know if I can,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
“You’ll do it,” Boone said, her grip on Lynda’s chin tightening. “You’ll do it, and you’ll make it good for me.”
The weight of Boone’s body settled over her, her thighs pressing against Lynda’s in a sick mimicry of intimacy. The feeling was alien and repulsive, and Lynda’s body tensed in response. But she knew she had to go through with it, to protect Mark and herself.
“Keep looking at me,” Boone said again, her voice a command that made Lynda’s heart race. She forced herself to meet Boone’s eyes, her own filled with a mix of fear and defiance.
Boone’s thighs began to move against hers, a slow, deliberate motion that made Lynda’s skin crawl. She could feel the slickness of Boone’s arousal against her, a constant, unwelcome reminder of what was happening.
“That’s it,” Boone murmured, her eyes never leaving Lynda’s. “Just relax and let me show you how good it can be.”
Lynda’s mind screamed in protest as Boone’s thighs began to move with more purpose. The friction was unpleasant, a stark reminder of the violation she was enduring. She bit her lip, trying to keep her expression neutral as Boone’s hips rocked back and forth. The woman’s eyes were glazed with desire, and she was clearly enjoying herself.
“You’re doing so well,” Boone murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction. “Now, let’s see if you can make me come.”
Lynda’s body tensed even more, her mind racing as she felt Boone’s movements become more urgent. She could feel the woman’s arousal increasing.
“Fuck,” Boone groaned, her eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. “You’re so tight, so wet.”
Lynda’s eyes filled with tears as she felt Boone’s body grind against her own. The pressure was unbearable, the intimacy of the act making her feel sick.
“You better make me believe you’re enjoying this.”
Her own hands remained at her sides, trembling with the effort it took not to push Boone away. Boone grabbed Lynda’s wrists, placing her palms on her own hips, guiding her movements slightly. Boone’s breathing grew ragged, her eyes rolling back in her head.
“You’re doing so good,” Boone hissed, her eyes locked on Lynda’s face. “So fucking good.”
Lynda could feel Boone’s wetness smearing onto her own thighs, the friction growing more intense with each passing second. Her own body was a battleground, a war between the instinct to fight and the need to survive. She forced herself to keep her grip on Boone’s hips, her movements tentative and submissive.
“That’s it,” Boone groaned, her voice strained with pleasure. “Harder, Ly. Make me come.”
Lynda’s mind was a whirlwind of despair and anger, but she complied, increasing the pressure of her hands on Boone’s hips, trying to make the woman come as quickly as possible so this could all be over. The smell of Boone’s arousal was thick in the air, mingling with her own fear.
“Yes,” Boone moaned, her hips moving faster now. “Just like that.”
Lynda’s eyes remained locked on Boone’s face, her own expression a mask of revulsion. She could feel the woman’s body tensing, the moment of release approaching. Her thoughts raced, trying to find a way to get through this, to keep her son’s innocence from being tarnished by the monster above her.
As Boone’s movements grew more erratic, Lynda felt a surge of anger. She knew she had to protect Mark at all costs, even if it meant enduring this vile act. With a deep, shuddering breath, she forced herself to move with Boone, her hands guiding the woman’s hips as she ground against her own.
The room was filled with the sound of their bodies slapping together, a sickening rhythm that seemed to echo in Lynda’s ears. She could feel the heat of Boone’s desire, the woman’s breath coming in short, desperate gasps. The need to scream, to push Boone away, was almost unbearable, but she remained still, her eyes never leaving the monster’s face.
As Boone’s movements grew more frenzied, so did Lynda’s determination. The woman’s thighs were slick with Boone’s wetness, and the friction was growing painful. But she didn’t dare stop, not when she could feel the climax building in Boone’s body.
“You like this, don’t you?” Boone’s voice was a taunt, her eyes gleaming with victory. “You like being my little fuck toy.”
Lynda gritted her teeth, refusing to give Boone the satisfaction of an answer. She kept her eyes on the ceiling, focusing on the patterns the shadows made in the dim light.
“You’re going to tell me,” Boone’s voice was a dark whisper in her ear. “You’re going to scream it so loud that the whole house knows just how much of a whore you are.”
Lynda’s eyes squeezed shut, tears escaping and rolling down her temples. The pressure inside her was building, a toxic mix of anger and disgust that was threatening to overflow.
“Come for me,” Boone urged, her voice thick with pleasure. “Come for me and tell me how much you love it.”
Lynda felt a tear slip down her cheek, the weight of the lie she was forced to live with becoming unbearable. Her breathing grew ragged as she tried to keep up with Boone’s relentless pace.
“You’re going to make me come,” Boone whispered, her voice a dark promise.
Lynda could feel Boone’s body quivering, the tension building. The pressure was unbearable, her own thighs burning with the friction. But she knew she had to keep going, had to get this over with.
With a final, desperate effort, she pushed Boone’s hips down harder onto hers, the sound of their bodies slapping together echoing through the room. Boone’s moans grew louder, more insistent.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Boone’s voice was a strangled cry, her eyes squeezed shut. “You’re mine, Ly. You’re mine to fuck whenever I want.”
Lynda felt Boone’s thighs clamp down on her, the woman’s body shuddering with the force of her orgasm. She kept her hands firmly in place, enduring the pain and disgust as Boone’s hips bucked against her. The room was silent except for the harsh sounds of their bodies coming together, a symphony of horror that seemed to go on forever.
As Boone’s climax subsided, she collapsed onto Lynda, her breathing heavy and ragged. For a moment, Lynda felt a spark of hope that it was over. But Boone’s grip on her wrists remained firm, her eyes snapping open with a vicious smile.
“Now, it’s your turn,” she said, her voice a low growl.
Lynda’s heart was racing, her body shaking with the effort of holding back her tears. “What?” she managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.
“You heard me,” Boone said, her smile never faltering. “You’re going to come for me, too. And you’re going to scream it out.”
Lynda’s mind raced, her body trembling with the effort of maintaining the facade of compliance. “I can’t,” she choked out, her voice a whisper of defeat.
“Oh, you can,” Boone assured her, her own breathing still heavy from her climax. “You’re going to show me just how much of a whore you really are.”
Lynda felt a fresh wave of revulsion wash over her, but she knew she had to play along. Boone’s grip on her wrists was like steel, her body a heavy weight that pinned her to the bed. She took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to find some semblance of control.
“You’re going to come for me,” Boone repeated, her voice a low, insistent murmur. “And you’re going to love it.”
Lynda’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions – fear, anger, and despair all fighting for dominance. But she knew she had to keep playing the game if she wanted to get through this. She took a deep breath and forced herself to move her hips in a slow, deliberate rhythm against Boone’s. The woman’s smile grew wider, her eyes never leaving Lynda’s.
“Good girl,” Boone murmured, her voice filled with a twisted pleasure. “Just like that.”
Lynda’s eyes remained closed, her mind a million miles away. The feel of Boone’s thighs pressing against hers was a violation she never thought she’d endure. The house was silent, save for the sickening sounds of Boone’s satisfaction.
“You’re doing so well,” Boone cooed, her hands moving to cup Lynda’s breasts. Her fingers pinched and pulled at the sensitive skin, the pain a stark contrast to the numbness that had settled in her soul.
Lynda’s breathing grew shallower, her body responding despite her mind’s screams of protest. The fear of what would happen if she didn’t satisfy Boone’s twisted desires was a powerful motivator. She forced herself to keep moving, her hips rocking slightly against Boone’s, hoping to convince her that she was getting closer to climax.
“You’re going to come for me, aren’t you?” Boone’s voice was a seductive whisper in her ear, her breath hot and sticky. “You’re going to come all over my thighs like the dirty little slut you are.”
Lynda’s stomach churned at the words, but she knew she had to play along. She bit her lip, her eyes squeezed shut tight as she tried to convince her own body to respond. She felt a bead of sweat trickle down her spine as she continued the forced rhythm.
“Come on, baby,” Boone encouraged, her voice thick with lust. “Show me how much you want it.”
Lynda felt her throat tighten, bile rising in the back of her mouth. She couldn’t do this, she couldn’t betray herself in such a way. But the thought of Mark, of her life being destroyed, kept her moving. She took a shaky breath and forced a moan to escape her lips. It sounded as false as the situation, but Boone’s smile grew wider, her hips grinding harder against Lynda’s.
“Yes,” Boone hissed. “That’s it. Give in to it.”
Lynda’s body was a battleground, her mind screaming for it to end while her body responded to the relentless pressure. The smell of sweat and sex filled the room, a suffocating cloud that clung to her skin. Her hips moved in time with Boone’s, the friction building a crescendo of horror.
“Look at me,” Boone demanded, her voice a harsh whisper.
Lynda opened her eyes, meeting Boone’s gaze with a look of pure hatred. She knew she had to keep the charade going, for Mark’s sake. She took a deep breath and let out a forced moan, her eyes never leaving the monster’s face. Boone’s smile grew even wider, her eyes gleaming with victory.
“That’s right,” Boone murmured, her voice a dark caress. “You want this, don’t you?”
Lynda’s eyes burned with unshed tears as she nodded, the lie a knife twisting in her chest. “Yes,” she forced herself to say, her voice a tremble of defeat.
Boone’s eyes narrowed, searching for any sign of deception. Finding none, she leaned in closer, her breath hot and foul. “Prove it,” she whispered, her teeth grazing Lynda’s earlobe. “Come for me.”
With a final push, Lynda’s body obeyed the command, a shuddering wave of revulsion passing through her as she faked the climax. She screamed out Boone’s name, the sound echoing through the house like a funeral dirge. Boone’s grip tightened, her body still moving against Lynda’s as if to milk the last drop of pleasure from the act.
“Yes,” Boone murmured, her voice filled with triumph. “That’s it. You’re mine.”
The weight of the woman’s body on top of her was suffocating, a living nightmare that Lynda could not escape. Boone’s thighs remained pressed firmly against her, her breath hot and sticky on her neck. The feeling of the woman’s wetness was a constant reminder of the violation she had just endured.
“Good girl,” Boone murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction. “Now you know who’s in control.”
Lynda’s body was a trembling mess beneath her, a mockery of pleasure. She lay there, feeling used and degraded, her mind racing for a way to escape the horror.
“Now,” Boone said, her voice a sultry purr, “I want you to clean me up.”
Lynda felt a fresh wave of revulsion at the command, but she knew better than to protest. She lay there as Boone made her way up her body and knelt above her face.
“Open your mouth,” Boone ordered, her thighs slick with sweat and arousal.
Lynda’s eyes fluttered open, the weight of defeat pressing down on her like a heavy blanket. She could see the gleam of triumph in Boone’s eyes, and she knew she had to endure this next humiliation. With a tremble in her chin, she opened her mouth.
The taste was bitter, and she had to fight the urge to gag as Boone’s thighs brushed against her face. The woman’s smell was a noxious blend of sweat and arousal, a stench that seemed to fill the room and cling to her. Boone’s fingers tangled in her hair, guiding her movements as she slid her thighs back and forth over Lynda’s mouth and nose.
“That’s it,” Boone cooed, her voice dripping with malice. “Clean me up.”
Lynda’s eyes watered as she forced herself to obey, her tongue tentatively reaching out to taste the vile residue of Boone’s climax. She tried to focus on anything but the task at hand, her mind racing with thoughts of her life before this monster invaded her world. The act was degrading, a violation that left her feeling like nothing more than a piece of meat.
“Look at you,” Boone said, her voice filled with a twisted amusement as she watched Lynda’s tongue flick over her skin. “So eager to please.”
Lynda’s stomach roiled with every forced lick, the taste of Boone’s arousal coating her mouth and nose. She wanted to scream, to push the woman away, but fear for Mark’s safety kept her in check. Boone’s grip on her hair tightened, and she felt the woman’s thighs clench around her face.
“Just like that,” Boone purred, her hips moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm. “You’re a natural, Ly.”
Lynda’s eyes remained closed, her mind a blank canvas of pain and despair. Each stroke of Boone’s thighs against her face brought a fresh wave of nausea, but she forced herself to continue, her tongue moving almost mechanically.
“You’re such a good little slut,” Boone said, her voice a mix of mockery and satisfaction. “I knew you’d come around.”
Lynda’s eyes snapped open at the words, the humiliation burning hotter than the anger that had been simmering in her core. The taste of Boone’s arousal was still on her tongue, a bitter reminder of the power the woman held over her.
“Good,” Boone murmured, her thighs releasing Lynda’s face. “No need to get dressed. We’re not done yet.”
Lynda’s body felt heavy with defeat as she managed to sit up, her legs wobbly from the ordeal.

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By Relatively Speaking
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