The Visitor
- 1 year ago
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The Visitor Chapter 1 free porn video
He felt nervous, probably more nervous than he had ever felt before. He
knew he was stupid to have ever let it go as far as this, but somehow he
just hadn't been able to stop himself. He'd placed the chair in the
centre of the lounge as he'd been told and now he sat on the settee
looking at it, waiting. Waiting for the text message that he feared
would come, yet still somehow in a madly excited anticipation, fuelling
that growing fear that was gnawing inside his stomach.
He sat there, dressed in the things he'd been told to wear, the silky
panties, tights, bra, petticoat, skirt and blouse, just as he'd been
told. It had been exciting then, being told to dress like this, he'd
been so aroused by it, thrilled by being told, by obeying and dressing
up like that and the submissiveness it made him feel.
But now, now as he sat there on the settee looking at the chair in the
middle of the room, he felt foolish, foolish and suddenly afraid. Afraid
of what he'd idiotically agreed to do.
His phone was in his trembling fingers, his palms hot, perspiring
against it, waiting for the text, afraid, wanting it to come and yet not
wanting it to come too. His cheeks felt flushed his head full of
recriminations. This was wrong, he shouldn't do this, he really
shouldn't do this.
The bleep when it came was sudden, it made him jump, his heartbeat
leaping to the sound, almost dropping the phone in his fright. He opened
the message, his fingers trembling in an extension of the fear that was
gripping him, his head buzzing as he read the message.
"Have you done what I've told you to do?" There was no signature, just
that one anonymous questioning line, no room for discussion.
With his fingers from trembling in a tarantella on the screen he tried
to text, correcting his misspelled mistakes even as he did so. He wrote
his short reply, then he stopped his finger hovering over the send
button. He should ignore it, not send it, just forget it all, there was
still time to stop this. He was staring into space, breathing swiftly,
panting, the fear fuelling his nervousness. He glanced down at the phone
again, resolving not to send it, but then he saw that the heat from his
trembling finger barely touching the screen had triggered the reply and
in a screaming anguish inside his head he saw it as it was sent.
He got up wringing his hands, the fear growing and growing inside him,
he couldn't do this, he couldn't, he just couldn't go ahead with it, he
already felt humiliated by the very thought. His mobile beeped again
then, in speedy response, raising his already frantic heartbeat to even
greater heights. He was almost too terrified to read that next text, yet
deep down there was an arousal fuelled by that mixture of emotions and
it was making him tingle wantonly between his legs.
With madly shaking fingers he opened the next message.
"Go to the front door, unlock it and stand in the hallway with your back
to it. Text when you are waiting for me, then put your phone down on the
floor and stand with your eyes closed. Don't disobey me if you know
what's good for you."
There was a roaring sound in his ears, his face burning, his insides a
turmoil. He should lock all the doors and run upstairs to hide, call the
police even, or at least ignore that text. He walked on legs of jelly
into the hallway drawn as if by some controlling force, slowly to the
front door. He looked at the Yale lock his pulse pounding in his ears,
not wanting to, yet somehow unable to stop himself he reached out his
truly trembling hand to it. He was too scared to look out of the window,
his eyes focussed on the lock, battling with his own mind which was
telling him, shouting at him, screaming at him, stop, don't do it. His
fingers touched the handle and letting out a tiny whimper of submission,
he clicked it down unlocking it. His heart rate increased threefold at
the sound. Turning away from the door he was in a mental anguish,
knowing that he mustn't, he couldn't, he shouldn't. This was wrong yet,
still he was unable to stop himself following the instructions.
His reply was short, one word, his fingers, his brain, all trembling too
much to think more.
"Ok."
He quiveringly put the phone down on the floor by his stocking clad feet
and stood there, eyes tightly shut, shaking, quietly listening for every
minute sound.
The handle going down and the door opening softly was sudden, he had
heard no noise of approaching footsteps, it further increased his level
of now abject fear and yet it was combining with the foolish, maddening
tingle in his sex, it made him feel weak and submissive.
The first touch was soft, gentle almost, the blindfold sliding over his
face into position, the tie behind his head securing it tightly, no word
was spoken. He felt his right wrist taken, his quivering hand obvious,
the fastening and binding of it to his left wrist, done swiftly,
securely, yet not roughly in an almost erotic, hypnotic possession. The
ball gag placed against his lips surprised him a second, then he
remembered, the threats they'd chatted about. He felts his lips being
pushed apart, the ball touching his teeth, his mouth inexorably opening
to its invasion until it slipped inside. Smaller than he had dreaded,
yet pressing down against his tongue, his lips closing around it as the
straps tightened behind his head, pulling it deeper, effectively
preventing any attempt at speech.
He stood there virtually incapacitated, seemingly alone for a few
minutes, the only sounds the soft rustle of movement from the quietly
exploring invader going from room to room. Suddenly the hypnotic control
subsided, the full realisation of his situation, his bondage and his
vulnerability dawning on him. He began to struggle, wrist pulling
against wrist, wriggling his hands to find any possible looseness to
gain his release, but the bindings were unyielding. He tried to call, to
make some noise as he wriggled, but the gag stifled his attempts leaving
him to say nothing, only muffled groans, his fear growing escalating
each second. Where? What? Was he being robbed? What? What? The total
dark unknown terrified him beyond belief, dressed as he was, bound as he
was, he was close to losing his mind.
He felt a hand on his arm, it held him tightly for a minute until he
calmed a little, then it began to gently guide him, leading him
somewhere. They stopped, he felt disorientated, no idea where he was, it
made him feel so scared that he was almost tearful, when suddenly he
became aware of warm breath against his face. He gasped inwardly at the
feel of the lips touching his own around his ball gag and then becoming
somehow aware that a tongue was touching the ball, licking it softly,
its' tip sometimes touching his lips too. Hands slipped around him,
holding him, feeling him, as the erotic kiss continued. It was making
him whimper submissively, in a defenceless, vulnerable, arousal. The
hands continued onwards, exploring, touching, up over his chest, then
down over his skirt, finding its' hem as they stroked down against his
legs. They stopped a second then slid back up his thighs beneath his
skirt and all the while the lips and tongue played over and around the
ballgag in those almost playful, erotic kisses. He seemed rooted to the
spot, unable to stop this controlling visitor, he should have tried to
step away, to try to raise his knees in defence, but the hypnotic effect
of touch, blindness and silence mesmerised him. He sensed a body heated
against his own as the hands slid onwards, inexorably up over his bum,
palms warm against him as they slid further in a confusing search. He
suddenly realised what was happening then, sensing the exploring fingers
finding the waistband of his tights. As they discovered what they'd been
looking for, he felt them then, fingers and thumbs gripping the elastic
edge and gently pulling as the nylon of his tights were drawn slowly
down over his bum. Slowly almost tenderly, yet unstoppably down over his
hips in their journey down his legs.
They had both known in their own ways that the one still unfettered area
of his freedom was his ankles, the visitor was keen to address that,
keen for total immobilisation of his prey. The tights in their loose
bondage was to become a restriction there too, preventing flight from
the fright bubbling through him.
Trying to step blindly away his tights prevented the movement of his
ankles and he whimpered now in the swift realisation that he'd allowed
himself to become drawn into further bondage, his body trembling so much
he was swaying in his fear.
The hands gripped him tightly, suddenly strong now, something tripping
him, he thought he was falling, he squeaked, stiffening in expectation
of hitting the floor. He was under the visitor's complete control
however; the fall hadn't happened and in a few minutes of movement and
adjustment he realised that he was across their knees. His bottom was in
the air, his head downwards almost touching the floor, depending fully
on and in total reliance of the visitor holding him, preventing his
crash against that hard floor.
An arm slid around him holding him tightly on the visitor's lap, the
other hand slowly raising his skirt, slowly revealing the satin pink
panties to their eyes. He was trembling more again now, knowing what was
to come, knowing it was what the visitor wanted. The cool air was
tickling his satin panties, the burning embarrassment making him whimper
softly as he felt his skirt tucked around his waist and the hand, soft
and warm sliding over those shiny soft panties that he'd been told to
wear.
The visitor took their time in mild exploration, knowing that the soft
touch was arousing them both. The first slap came as a shock to him,
making him jump, call out into his ballgag. The visitor adjusted his
other hand slipping it up between his legs, slipping over his clit, clit
was what the visitor made him call it, it was soft in fear, yet it
tingled in arousal too, almost begging for that touch.
The spanking began slowly, causing heat and building the sensation of
pain softly and all the while the fingers touched and tickled his clit,
confusing his feelings from pain to pleasure. Slowly almost
imperceptibly the spanking became harder making him whimper more and
more. It was painful now, each stroke hurting more, he tried to beg to
stop but could only gurgle into the gag. He tried to wriggle free from
the untiring hand but, any attempt to evade it was to no avail. It
seemed relentless, never ending, all knowledge of time and space were
gone, just a focus on that spanking, that heat, that stinging, until as
much to his shock as anything, he realised tears were running down his
cheeks. Suddenly everything seemed lost, he could feel himself
weakening, submitting, breaking down and before he knew it he was
sobbing in floods of tears. Only then did the visitor stop, the hand
once again moving softly over his satin panties, the fingers tickling
his still stupidly tingling clit remorselessly. When his sobs subsided
and the whimpering arousal resumed, the visitor gently slid him to the
floor, laying him on his side in a near foetal position.
The voice, was sudden, breaking the silence, it made him jump. It was
electronic, yet soft and ungendered almost frighteningly alien in his
ear
"Good girl," the synthesised sound, almost feminine, hiding any clue to
its owner. There was a pause, the quiet closing in again then.
"Leanne, do you want my cock?"
The words were spoken slowly, a whispering silicon genderless sound,
invoking fear, threat and yet that stupid submissive excitement inside
him.
He was trembling again, the insufferable arousal growing until he found
himself nodding almost imperceptibly.
"Leanne?"
The questioned sound but a buzzing vibration in his head.
He nodded again almost fearfully.
The electronic voice no more than a whisper, a breath in his ear.
"You know you must earn it Leanne."
Again the pause, the silence making the words eat into his brain,
"I have some presents for you first."
The silence seemed to go on longer this time, a silence leaving him
quivering at the frightening thoughts planted in his mind by those words
as they went around and around in his head.
"Are you going to be a good girl for me?"
That electronic voice sounding almost evil now.
It was sending his heartbeat fluttering in that mixture of dread, fear
and excitement that they both knew he couldn't escape from. Inside his
head he was screaming, no, no you mustn't, you can't, stop it don't do
it, but he couldn't stop himself, he was under the visitor's spell. He
nodded again, almost imperceptibly, a fearful trembling nod.
A hand slid over his bare leg and he felt himself turned onto his back,
the carpeted floor against his heated buttocks. Fingers slipped over the
satin panties and finding the waist, slid them slowly down to his
thighs, slowly, maddeningly slowly, revealing his fearful half flaccid,
yet maddeningly tingling almost throbbing "clit." He felt the visitor's
fingers touching him there, lifting, feeling, it made him shrink in fear
of what might happen, yet the top of his clit tingled in wanton desire
almost begging to be stroked. Something was touching him, slipping over
him there, a tight ring through which his sex was pushed and pulled, the
discomfort in his testicles as they too were squeezed and pushed
through. He knew now, he suddenly remembered, a terrible realisation
that this was the threatened chastity the visitor had chatted so
persuasively about. He tried to wriggle away to shout "no," but he had
no defence, no control. In the end he was unable then to suppress that
gasped moan into the ballgag at the eroticism of what was now actually
happening. Yet still, deep down, the awful implications of it frightened
him enormously.
Again that disorientated electronic voice, that whispering his ear, the
sound instilling fear by its disembodiment.
"You love this don't you Leanne?"
He whimpered, then moaned again to the touch as it teased him, touching
him there, then stopping.
"Don't you Leanne?"
The words were enforced waiting his reply.
The madly tingling head of his clit drove him on, so that he couldn't
stop his slight nod and he felt himself almost panting into his ballgag.
"Good girl."
Each electronic word only seeming to increase his trepidation
The touch was cooler now and suddenly his clit felt enclosed, trapped in
something plastic which was tight, restricting, preventing, yet building
his arousal at the feeling. The hands slipped around and behind his
head, they slid over and found the tie on his blindfold.
"So you can see, Just for a little while Leanne." The words seemed to
buzz directly in his ear.
He felt the tie undone, the blindfold move; the curtains were drawn and
the room was in shadows, yet the sudden brightness from the tiny
focussed spotlight made him squint, as he blinked nervously through the
glare.
In deep shadows, the figure, for that was all he could see, seemed to be
masked, the frightening almost inhuman features covering the shape and
gender hidden beneath it. The electronic sounds frightening him even
more.
"Watch me Leanne, watch as I possess your little clit forever."
He whimpered in his terror now, looking down at the terrible,
terrifying, pink plastic chastity enclosing him, the focus of that tiny
spotlight. The hands appeared almost from nowhere, threading the
gleaming open lock through the link that would hold it tightly together.
Quietly, in that blinding silence, he heard the tiny click of its
closure, it sounded like the clang of a prison door in his head at the
certain realisation of the visitor's threat, the possessing of him.
He whimpered continually now, unable to stifle his moaning submissive
sounds as the visitor slid their hands over their possession. The
yearning wanton desperation for touch and release, growing by the
second, yet the discomfort of his attempted chastised arousal, making
him tremble and beg uselessly into his ballgag.
"Now You're mine Leanne."
The robotic words fuelled his frightened submissive excitement.
His moaning need growing still as he watched, trembling as he saw the
figure's hands reach down and pull his pink satin panties back up. It
covered his chastity, yet it enhanced its eroticism, making him wriggle
at the feel and the sight of it framed in the slippy material.
"Remember my promises Leanne?"
The voice seemed almost disconnected from the figure kneeling over him.
"Remember"
He began to pant in abject fear now, surely the visitor didn't
mean...surely it was all fantasy. He was suddenly scared, very scared.
The visitor reached out of sight behind him, the glint of the small
stainless-steel box appearing in his hand. He was trembling more and
more now, unable to bring his eyes from the terror he prayed was not
inside. The box clicked open in the visitor's steady hand, the lid
hiding the contents as fingers dipped inside.
The appearance of the syringe in shining reflection of the dim light
nearly made him faint, his heartbeat skyrocketing, whimpering, trying to
form words begging in a mumbling terrified scream into the silencing
gag.......................
The visitor had teased him online many times, arousing him in so many
ways, but when the drug was mentioned it had frightened him beyond
belief. The drug, the white drug, the drug that drew you in creating
utter dependency and total addiction. A total addiction that the visitor
threatened would be used to control and exploit him.
But that had all just been online chat, just play, the visitor was just
teasing his arousal, wouldn't do it for real, wouldn't, wouldn't....
couldn't ..... "Nnooo.." The terror was gripping his very soul.
The electronic voice buzzed in his ear again.
"You can't wait can you Leanne? You know you can't wait. Just imagine
what this will make you feel like as I take you. You will be hooked
immediately, addicted, never free, mine, begging me for your next fix,
doing anything I tell you just to get it."
The visitor put the syringe down where he could see it, its' evil
contents glinting in reflection of the spotlight as he took the strap
from the box. Gently wrapping it round the forearm of his prisoner,
bound and gagged, totally helpless, screaming in silence as he
struggled, heaving on his bonds striving in his madness to wriggle free.
The visitor slowly pulled the strap tight around his arm as he fought
uselessly, his brain in terrified overdrive in the terrible realisation
that he had allowed himself to be placed in this position of unyielding
bondage, incapable of preventing this evil possession of his very soul.
"Watch, Leanne, watch me as I make you my gay slut, my prostitute
sissy."
The syringe was in the visitors hand, moving closer and closer to his
vein, now raised and throbbing in his arm.
He was squeaking continually, his body trembling, quivering all over,
struggling in mad fear, terrified at the glinting sharpness of the
needle moving closer and closer, until suddenly he stilled in an awful
deathly anticipation.
He wanted to close his eyes, to believe this was all a nightmare, a
horrible terrifying dream. He wouldn't, he wouldn't oh god no he can't.
The needle touched him, punctured his skin, a droplet of blood formed,
the tip pushing gently deeper, entering the swollen vein. It was
stinging, he watched helplessly as the plunger slowly depressed, slowly,
slowly, right to the bottom.
He was screaming, screaming inside his head, as he saw the drug pumped
into him. The visitor slowly withdrawing the now empty syringe, dabbing
the spot gently with the cotton wool he produced from nowhere.
"Now Leanne, now feel me release the excitement into your body, prepare
to give yourself to me Leanne."
The visitor gently reached for the strap around his arm, the strap they
both knew was all that stood between him and the terrible terrifying
possessing drug flooding his system. The endless screaming in his head
descending into whimpers as he shivered unable to do anything but watch.
"Watch Leanne, watch."
That electronic, evil, evil, hateful sound.
The strap suddenly freed in the visitor's hand, the drug jetting into
his bloodstream, flooding through him. His arm feels suddenly hot, his
head like it would explode, his heartbeat trebling, the drug coursing
through his veins demanding more and more adrenalin.
"You will love it Leanne, you WILL love it, you will want it more and
more. So, so easy to become addicted and you are already, aren't you, my
sissy slut prostitute."
The robot voice seemed to form in visions of robots in a white
brightness. Robots with cocks, huge cocks, pulsing sex machines.
In that dream the robot stood massively tall, opening its robe, an erect
thing appearing huge and throbbing in front of his eyes. Somehow, he was
on his knees, was he on his knees, he didn't know. The gag was gone, he
felt sick, his head against the floor, his body buzzing in a mad cold
fire, every touch like it was a hundred times the sensation.
His panties were being pulled down, the feelings making him squirm and
moan, he'd never felt so aroused, yet his clit was trapped secure, the
feeling there too, driving him mad. Those feelings crazy filling his
head with the burning cool sensation of it all. There was aa noise, a
girlish, whimpering, whimpering and moaning, where was she?, Who was
she? But he knew that she was he. Something was rubbing between the
cheeks of his bottom, something hot, like a poker, burning against him.
It found his puckered hole, the moaning grew louder in his head, his
clit throbbing madly. It was opening him, there was pain somewhere, such
a strange strange pain, a great black beast was on him, riding him. He
thought his head would explode, the moaning louder and louder, fuelling
his confusion, the feelings inside him like nothing he'd ever felt
before, every nerve in his body vibrating to it. He wanted to come, come
as he had never come before, it felt as if every part of his insides was
coming, he was begging for it, she was begging for it, the girls voice
begging too. He was tense, every sinew rigid, every muscle tight, so
close, so close, yess yesss, please pleeease please make me, make me,
take me ohhhh. The climax unlike any he had had before, his body
collapsing in a sudden exhaustion, laying there unthinking, weak, the
perspiration cooling on his bare body. In that exhaustion he closed his
eyes and the blackness rushed upon him in nauseous waves of oblivion
leaving him to lay unmoving on the floor in the sleep of stupor, fired
by dreams of sexual frenzies filling his head.
In his waking moment, his tongue felt huge, swollen, dry, his head
throbbing, eyes glued together, squinting in the dim light as he lay
there naked on the rug. Naked save for the cuffs still behind him and
the terrible pink chastity still gripping him. He squinted, peeped,
trying to focus, there was a noise in the background, it was the
television, he lay there for a while, just listening, he didn't know how
long, not making sense of the sound until his head cleared a little.
Then realising by the groans and moans that it must be sex, he peeped
again, struggling to focus, the picture clearing a little, two men
appeared to be on another, a small man between them, tied, struggling to
get free, was he dreaming still?
He moved his head to look around, his head hurt and it was a struggle to
see further than the television in front of him, that television, those
pictures, those awful pictures, dominating his waking moments.
The feet when he saw them, were bare, feet and legs, bare, it was all he
could see.
"I'm glad you're awake at last Leanne, my gay little sissy slut, I've
been waiting patiently for you, we are going to have so much fun now,
aren't we?"
The voice breathed, his terror returning at the words and its electronic
inhumanity and he found himself quivering, trembling with a cold, cold
fear.
...................................
Cheryl
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