She retreats nervously

“I have to go.” Alison's voice comes out in a breathy whisper. She backs away nervously with her shoes in one hand and the bag with books in the other. “Thank you for dinner, and these books.” The words come out haltingly as she wrestles with thanking me for playing into her darkest fantasies. In the tight-fitting black cocktail dress, she looks just like one of the noble-born Imperial debutants that are the most delectable prizes from the hijacked star-liner in Henry Sparrowhawk's erotic space opera. I have to resist the urge to follow her up to her room and show her what it might be like to be captured by a slaver intent on taking and plundering her young body.

I end up down-loading an e-version of the book and skimming through the pages on my laptop looking for the hottest scenes where the crumbling Empire's loveliest maidens fall into the clutches of corrupt politicians, barbarian invaders and ruthless slavers who are more than happy to take advantage of the chaos of war. Even more than Norman's Gor books, the young noblewomen of the Imperium guard their virtue zealously, so almost of the heroines have little or no experience with men when they are taken. The author takes great delight in describing in great detail how these privileged elite are stripped and humiliated in front of scores of horny men for their very first time, and then of course deflowered in all manner of different scenarios. I figure these passages alone will be enough to get my needy young tenant all wet and excited, and the scenes where the savage raiders from the rim planets of the vast Empire plunder the soft inner-worlds are right in her wheelhouse.

Alison skips breakfast the next morning and when she gets back after her classes I catch just a glimpse of her masked face as she hurries by me in the kitchen. She does come down for dinner, and we have an almost normal conversation as we finish the rest of the stuffed shells. We talk about her classes and her plans for finding summer job, but underneath it all is a tension that could only be compared to a plump rabbit sitting down to eat dinner across the table from a hungry wolf. She disappears quickly after dinner leaving me to wash the dishes and clean up and by the time I settle down in my armchair, I have almost forgotten about the nervous teenager hiding in her bedroom.

As I watch the football game, I hear the familiar thumping coming from upstairs, but I'm pretty sure that Dick is not with her on the bed so she must be trying on her own to ease some of the tension. I move silently up the staircase until I am just outside her bedroom door. I try not to think about what I'm doing as I silently turn the doorknob and crack open the door to her room just enough that I can peek in and see exactly what she is doing. As my eyes adjust to the dim light, I make out her words no longer muffled by the closed door.

“No! Oh please no ... take it out, please ... please it's too big... you're hurting me!” Alison is masturbating wildly on her bed just as I knew she would be. To my surprise, it looks like she's using the handle of a hairbrush to jam deep into her pussy instead of just her fingers.

“Please Sir,” She begs the imaginary man violating her tender young body, “I'll be a good girl ... I swear, please don't do this to me!” I'm taking a bit of a chance watching her like this, but with the stairwell in darkness and Alison distracted by her dark fantasy, I decide that it is worth the risk of discovery to see how this plays out. To my surprise Alison moans in frustration and with the hairbrush still slowly sliding in and out of her she picks up the book that was lying near her pillow and starts reading again. I can see now that she has Slavegirl of Akkadis in her hand as her eyes scan over the pages before she seems to start the whole scene over again.

“Who are you?” She sounds both shocked and terrified. “What do you want? Get your filthy hands off of me!” The pace of the hairbrush picks up noticeably as does the depth that the handle is sliding into her. “My father is Baron Kirkendahmer, he will pay for my safe return.” Her head tilts back and her mouth opens in a silent scream, but it is not long before she is speaking again as she acts out her erotic scene. “Yes of course I'm a virgin, you cretin! ... What? No ... get your hands off of me!”

I recognize the dialog from the book that I had so recently reread, Miss Kaylee-Ann Kirkendahmer, the poor young woman in question is the older daughter of one of the Imperium's noble families who is taken along with over thirty other daughters and young wives while traveling on the Imperial starliner Evening Star. The luxury passenger liner had been boarded by a vicious band of pirates eager to strip the great ship of its wealth and plunder the sweet young flesh of the wealthy Imperial citizens who until this night had never lacked for anything in their lives.

In the book, the slender-hipped brunette is just one of many who had been locked up in the luxury liner's most exclusive dining hall with nothing but the sheer nightgowns that they had been wearing when pulled from their staterooms to cover their delicious, toned bodies. Some of the more worldly wives, and the three beautiful stewardesses dressed in the Great Star uniforms that hugged their lush figures knew what was about to happen, but Kaylee-Ann, her sister and their frightened girlfriends were too sheltered from the realities of the world to imagine what the horny pirates would do with their helpless female prizes.

“... but you can't!” Alison's sharp cry of protest reminds me where I am. “Oh stop ... not here ... not like this ... not on the table!” In the book, the actual moment of young Kaylee-Ann's deflowering on one of the great hall's tables in front of her shocked friends and sister lacked specific details, but Alison's imaginative mind has no trouble filling in the details. She removes her hairbrush that is dripping with juices and lifts her long legs high above her as she pleads with the imaginary villain who was about to violate her. “Oh no ...it's too big for me ... please, I've never ... Oh Dear Lord, be gentle with me ...” Her hips lift up just as the hairbrush presses against her pussy lips again “ ...it won't fit - Aauuhh!” She times her sharp cry of pain perfectly with the invading handle and once again she works the brush frantically trying find the pleasure that so far has eluded her.

My cock is throbbing with need, and I briefly consider pulling it out and stroking it as I watch the gyrating young woman on her bed, but that is what a high school nerd would do. I am a grown man not some horny kid. I should give Alison the privacy she rightfully expects or maybe I should forget my stupid plan to fuck her only once a week and go take what I wanted right now.