Her Nemesis Master (Dark BDSM Erotica) Read Free Page A

a street fighter who’d just left an
opponent battered on the ground. Feeling like such an opponent,
Emily stood by the elevator unable to move her legs. She waited
until he’d left the building – the man making his exit whilst
whistling a jaunty tune, seemingly indifferent to the terror in his
wake. Noticing her distress, the security guard in the lobby asked
if there was a problem. Emily blurted out some nonsense about
elevators making her giddy – and it was such a long way down from
the twentieth floor – although not quite as long as it could have
been. Refusing the guard’s offer to fetch her some water, Emily
waited in the lobby for a couple of minutes before she left the
building and took the underground home.

Chapter 2
    The half hour journey home was a nightmare for Emily. She
tried to read a novel, but she couldn’t concentrate. She was far
too disturbed by the events in the elevator - by what the man had
said, and by how she had reacted. Emily couldn’t fathom why she
hadn’t reported the incident straight away. She could have yelled
out, she could have slapped the uncouth oaf, she could have told
the security guard to call the police once she was safely out of
the elevator. But she had done none of these things. Her normal
assertive persona had been washed away to be replaced by a weak
ineffectual woman, powerless in the face of depraved vulgarity so
assuredly presented. Emily wondered why she’d acted like that. Was
it fear? And if so, fear of what? The man himself had made no
physical threat, just crude suggestions that were obscenely
unnatural... Taking it up the ass indeed! As if Emily Johnson would
ever do that!
    Once home, it crossed her mind to tell Les what had happened,
but she knew he would have fretted and probably nagged her about
reporting it, so Emily decided it would be better to leave it be.
She tried to blank it all out, following the normal pattern of her
comfortable life.
    And on the face of it she succeeded, enjoying a good dinner
and a few glasses of Chablis, relaxing afterwards with Les rubbing
her feet – it was business as usual for Mrs. Johnson. But that
night her sub-conscience took a different track. In her sleep Emily
found herself in some ill-defined enclosed space, trapped by a dark
and sultry man, pinned to the wall by his bulk. He was attacking
her from behind and Emily was pitifully resisting. She was telling
him no, but she wasn’t fighting him off with any real conviction.
In this disturbing dream the man tore off Emily’s clothes. He pawed
roughly at her body, pinching her nipples and violating her sex,
obscenely fingering her gushing pussy. He prised her legs apart –
in her sleep she watched it happen – she saw a huge cock slide up
and down between her buttocks, riding her crack before settling
over the pucker. Not only did she see, but in her dream she
actually felt it, as that scarily large cock was rammed all the way
in, bludgeoning past her aching anal ring and plundering into her
virginal chute. She was screaming her head off, which must have
been the pain – but in this weird bizarre dream there was a
confusing refrain – ‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’ being the catchphrase at play.
The exhortation continued as the man buggered her wildly, Emily
screaming out ‘Yes!’ as he ploughed her guts with his rampant
erection – punching it into her time after time. Emily howled like
a whore, which was far from normal – a few faked moans was as much
as she usually gave – but then this wasn’t real, it was only her
sub-conscious. As the man pounded into her, he squashed Emily hard
against the wall, pulling her hair back so he could gloat in her
face, revelling in his conquest and Emily’s sluttish behaviour. The
man fucked her till he came and squirted out his seed, firing the
mess deep in Emily’s bowels. Then he roughly pulled out and backed
away into a shadow as Emily collapsed in a heap on the floor, spunk
dribbling out of her gaping asshole.
    Emily woke up