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Lust Cafe 3: The Attack

Short story By: Damaelle

Greg wakes up to an unexpected surprise, but what happens after that is even more enigmatic...

Submitted:Jul 19, 2007    Reads: 1,360    Comments: 9    Likes: 1   

Lust Café 3:

The Attack

Like a spinning tunnel, Greg's thoughts gathered back into reality; coming from darkness. The drugged wine had hit him hard and his head was pounding. He began to come to slowly. Like awakening from a long, deep nightmare, it was taking him time to fully awaken. His first sense during waking was the temperature of the room. It was a bit warm for his taste. His eyes opened to another dimly lit room. He sensed panic at first, of course, but within seconds he remembered where he was before he'd passed out. The figure sitting on the chair in the corner of the room would have reminded him anyway. Juliana sat patiently awaiting his "return" by a nightstand full of flickering little wicks from several red candles which scented the room of roses.

For some reason, Greg's first thought was a memory of a t.v show he'd once seen which mentioned the smell of roses and/or flowers having been associated with the devil. She resembled the devil, after all, sitting there motionless staring at him wearing a red under-dress and a grin on her face. A thought ran through his head about what may have occurred, but it was quickly disregarded when he noticed he was still fully dressed.

"What's going on? What happened?" he asked, thinking he'd get an answer. Instead, she giggled. It was then he tried to sit up despite the heavy headache he was dealing with. He was unable to do so. His wrists and ankles were bound to the large black railings of the king-sized bed on which he lay. He tried to pull himself loose, to no avail.

"Would you please let me go." His voice was firm yet he spoke softly. Though his mind rambled on, one thing he knew for sure. He was fucked. He wondered now what he'd gotten himself into. Having watched too may horror movies (they were his favorite), he knew this situation could lead to many bad things. He figured his best bet to get out of this was to ask nicely. Surely she was some sort of psycho, right? He remembered his last moments before passing out. The wine, of course! Any woman that would go to such extremes was obviously capable of so many much crueler acts. Who knows what she had in mind. Letting him go was NOT one of them!

Greg watched as Juliana's figure stood from the chair without saying a word. Panic hit him in the stomach and for a minute he thought he may vomit. His hands began to shake as she approached him. What scared him even more was the look in her eyes. She looked deranged and vicious. The grin on her face grew wider as she approached him. His entire body trembled slightly. Inside he wanted to scream. He felt a fool for having fallen for this. It had been all too easy. Such a gorgeous angelic looking woman wouldn't have fallen for him so fast, right? His panic took over.

"What are you going to do!" This time he had shouted. His forehead developed beads of sweat. Even in such evil aura, Juliana was so beautiful to him. In the dim candlelight her lips were even redder than before and her pale skin was so flawless. He took in a scent of her, flowers and candy and sex. Arousal was inevitable despite the fear in his gut.

She climbed on top of him then, straddling him as she sat up. She ran her hands from his chest down to where his pants began, unbuttoning his shirt as she did so. He had a fit body, even a slight six-pack of hard muscles under his shirt. She stopped then, looking him in the eyes then.

She loved the little helpless boy look on his face, the sound of his pounding heart and the smell of fear on his skin. His eyes were wide in awareness, his lips slightly parted as if he were ready to scream. Again. If a tear formed in his eyes what sadness it would bring to her heart. Despite the fact she didn't have one.

Greg was scared, aroused, confused and the headache was making him angry. He swallowed hard, not knowing what his fate would be and wondering what this would all lead to. He was a firm believer in the saying that if things seem too good to be true they probably are. Now he lay here, a victim of his own deceit, having gone against his own beliefs. He considered the possibility of a man, lurking in the darkness, watching and waiting perhaps to rob him of his wallet leaving him cold and naked and alone like in the horror movies. Then he figured, Juliana and the other assailant would walk off happily, laughing at Greg's misfortunes and joyful of their own victory against this poor, vulnerable man. He hoped he wasn't right, but life taught him to expect the worst and prepare for it. Prepared he was not, though. Never had he been victimized in such a way. His thoughts trailed off at the woman's touch.

She had leaned forward and began to kiss Greg, first on the neck, then his chest. She ran her hands lovingly all over his torso and squeezed him as if in eagerness. She then slid back, off his crotch and onto his legs beginning to undo his pants. Greg began to rise to the occasion. She gripped the sides of his pants and gently began to slide them down, past his buttocks. His boxers went with them. She made a moaning sound of approval then as if pleased with what she saw. She gripped his member with her right hand, stroking it gently, looking at Greg for a reaction. He wiggled around a bit, trying not to give in for fear of being fooled, but when she put it in her mouth, the thoughts just melted away with the warmth and the strokes of her tongue. She sucked him harshly, yet painlessly while her left hand reached up to his chest, digging nails into his skin. The pain was moderate, a stinging, burning sensation where her claws had been yet it was overpowered by the pleasure of her oral movements.

Greg stared at the grey ceiling, not really seeing it at all. His mind was in heaven somewhere, yet his fate lingered in the hands of this unknown woman. Beautiful as she may be, he thought she may be the devil in disguise. At this moment, it didn't matter much to him. The pleasure was becoming too much, so that soon he would reach climax.

She took it deep, far enough that her tongue was lapping his sack, stroke after stroke as he himself thrust upwards in an attempt to go deeper. She clawed at his chest again, with a more fierce push so that blood oozed from the marks. She heard him let out a groan, from the pain, not the pleasure, yet she didn't seem bothered by what she'd done.

She released him from her mouth then, pausing to look at him again. He spoke not a word, nor did she. He had lifted his up a bit, as far as he could, and saw her removing her nightgown. She wore nothing else, and the shadowy room hugged her figure as the dim light reflected off her curvy breasts which he remembered from his dream.

She came forward then, rubbing her luscious body all over his. He liked the way her breasts felt on his chest, despite the bleeding. They were firm, yet her skin was soft and her nipples erect. She got up close to his face and bit his lower lip playfully then releasing it. She scooted back now, sliding him right into herself and she moaned and sighed in pleasure. She placed both hands on his chest now and clawed him yet again, this time making him spasm in pain. She let out a vicious chuckle and hungrily lapped at the blood on his chest, running her tongue all over him, wherever the blood was. She straddled him regardless, never letting him down. She saw his hands clench and his arms pull in an attempt to break the binding ropes, but they were on too tight.

Again, panic hit him. He enjoyed her pale body devouring him, though he couldn't get past the pain. He tried not to let it hurt. He didn't know what to make of the situation now. Was she just a crazy lover? Or was she a killer who loved to play with her victims before ending their suffering? A con artist perhaps? His thoughts were again broken by pain.

She'd run out of blood from his wounds so she proceeded on to sucking it out of his wounds which she'd inflicted. This stung him. She acted viciously now, holding his upper arms down with her clawed hands as she began to bite into his chest in an attempt to draw more blood. Hungrily, she gnawed at his flesh as Greg screamed in agony. Blood spilled over onto the bed, racing the vicious woman to be quicker. She made strange moaning noises then, her red mouth bloody from his wounds as she began to straddle him harder and faster. She had quit biting on him and had even stopped trying to get to the blood before it escaped her. With a rhythmic motion she straddled him harder and harder and he could feel himself deep inside her and the massaging motion was getting him off. Finally, she let out a moaning scream. Warm liquids seeped out from inside her, and onto Greg's private area even reaching his pelvis.

She suddenly stopped her motion, and noticed Greg trying to keep his head up in an attempt to see what her next move would be. She sat up a bit sending his hard member out of her, but then she readjusted herself on him, this time in a much tighter place. Greg felt the difference immediately. She was so tight. She threw her head back in pleasure and continued to straddle him, about as hard as before. This time, he climaxed. Though his chest burned with her wrath he had been excited to the point of orgasm. She grinned in satisfaction. Her lips were still bloody red and her eyes had an unnatural glow to them. She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips before getting up off of him.

Greg lay in disbelief unsure whether or not she would now release him. He was covered in blood, from chest to upper legs and his face was wet with sweat. He had no time to react, not that he could have, before he saw her nightgown as she flung onto his face. He shook his head from side to side in an attempt to remove it, but the cloth remained on his head. Suddenly, as if having been let loose, his left arm freed. He grabbed the gown from his face eagerly and, to his surprise, nothing was as it had been.


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