TAKEN FROM THE PRECIPICE

ISLA I was nine when he touched me. I remembered his hands on my skin, his fingers around my neck as he defiled me. I could never forget the pain, or the look in his eyes when he had demanded my silence. "I will kill you," he had said when he had let go of me, left me trembling in the corner. I bled everywhere, my core ruined just like my beating heart. And, I had said nothing, afraid of death, afraid to die by his hands. Maybe I should have died then. If I had known that he would take my life later, I would have spoken up. Perhaps he would have paid for his crimes then and would never have wronged me more. That, I regret. ~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ (Eleven years later) I moaned deeply as he pushed his fat prick deep into my slippery opening. "f**k," I whispered as his joystick filled my throbbing core to the hilt. Delight choked me. I closed my eyes as he paused. I know he was giving my wet cunt all the time to adjust to his big size. His hands reaches for one of my n*****s, rubbing me for stimulation. Sensations glided through every portal of my body as he touched my beaded n*****s. "Let me f**k you Isla," he said. I nodded, needy, trembling beneath his large contoured frame with want. I let him have me, wanted it even when I knew that it was wrong. But I would never stop him. "You're so wet for me," he said as he spanked my heavy breasts. And then, he began to move, his waist and balls meeting my opening again and again. I purred as he serviced my p***y. He lifted my legs higher, over his shoulders, going deeper into my cunt. Our joining made wet squealching sounds as he filled me with hard thrusts. I gasped, my back arching of the bed as I closed my eyes and moaned his name. "Eric." I had met Eric three months ago. He was the body guard that my husband had assigned to me after an incident that had nearly left me dead. The incident was my fault. I had slipped into the bathroom and slit my wrists with the letter openers. But that damn man had found me. My husband. Dickinson. I should have slit my neck instead. Mayhap I would have died before that man had discovered me. But sometimes, I couldn't help but think that I might have been afraud to die. Deep down, I might have slit my wrists in the hopes of salvation. Perhaps I had only needed a momentary escape from that monster. "f**k, you're so tight," Eric leaned in to whisper close to my ears. I said nothing, unable to as he dicked me down into the bed without mercy. This was how I liked it, hard, brutal, fast. And yes, a little choking. Eric's right hand wrapped around my neck, holding tightly as his hips moved. I gasped, nearly gaggging on my own throat as he pressed harder. His other hand found my pleasure numb, rubbing it in circles as he f****d me. Delight washed over me. I squrimed on the bed from the damn pleasure that he was bringing me. I couldn't concentrate all at once in the plesure from each part. My eyes gently rolled back into my head as the speed increased. I felt his mouth on one of my breasts almost instantly, and I moaned softly. Everything—it was too much. Still, I was never enough, the force. Even when he pulled away and slapped me hard across the face, it still wasn't. I needed more, asphyxiation. Eric stopped. He lifted me off the bed and helped me to get into an all four position. My blood pounded in my ears as he began to secure my hands behind my back. I said nothing, trusting him as I had come to for the past three months. He tied my hand securely with the blue tie that he had taken off earlier. I didn't move as he pressed my head to the bed and spread my legs wider. And I screamed as he buried himself deep inside of me, possessing me again. The s*x was always this good. Until I felt it, and I knew it would be better. The rope. I had no idea when he had prepared the rope or made the noose. Anyways, he slid it over my head, balancing the thick rope on my neck. And then he pulled. I cried out as he f****d my hard, one hand pulling on the rope as he rammed into me. I fell into a delirious ecstasy. The rope bit into the flesh of my neck, and I went dizzy with pleasure—and fear. I almost couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. And yet, I felt fufilled, nearly satisfied. Something began to build inside of me as he f****d me to a wild frenzy. Pussy juice slipped down my thighs with the undoing motion he presented. And then, I felt it reach the crux, my expectations. "Eric," I pleaded. Mayhap for ecstasy. Mayhap for climax. But, he gave me both. My p***y walls tightened significantly around his thick long c**k. And then, I came. I couldn't even cry out as the rope tightened around my neck, cutting off my air supply. My eye widened, bulging even as the pain and the pleasure mixed together. I clawed at the skin of my back, my body writhing as he began to move again. He was yet to come. He pounded me from behind as if I were a disobedient slave who ran away. I noticed that his grip on the rope had loosened a whole lot. That meant that he would take me unawares, whenever he drew it. I could never guess. He grunted when his d**k slipped out of my opening, tracing wetness over me. I stilles, assuming he held it. He slapped the thick meat over my ass once, then twice. And then, he was rubbing my opening with it, teasing my slit and c******s. Finally, he slipped it into me and continued to take into me like a bear in heat. His c**k filled my p***y over and over again in such hard thrusts that left me gaping. Tears blurred my vision even as I could hear my blood pounding in my ears. I heard him groan behind me the moment his c**k jerked in my cunt. He was close. I could feel it. But, I didn't feel the rope until it snapped taunt over my arteries and air supply. He thrust again. Once, twice... And then, he bucked. His thick c*m began to fill every inch of my throbbing cunt as he tightened the rope. Then my second climax hit me. Pleasure rolled over me in billows and billows as the rope loosened. I lay there, coughing, and breathing air in like some greedy homeless beggar. I felt Eric's hands as he removed the rope and undid the knot in my hands. I reached for my neck instinctively, trying to soothe the abused skin as I rolled in my back. Eric was looking down at me with his d**k semi flaccid, and a gently look in his eyes. "Isla," he whispered my name. But before I could say a word, the door to the bed room flung open. The intruder had pushed it so hard that one of the hinges gave way from the pressure. Both of us turned towards the door as foot steps came towards us. And then, I saw him. My husband. Dickinson. I gasped as the blood drained from my face. "Isla," he said my name in that voice that always have me cold chills. But this time, the chills seemed like they had been streaked with death. Dickinson's eyes were burning with rage as he took in the scene before him. And the monster had a gun in his hands, pointing it straight at Eric.