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Pricked by a Thorn	By : EliiVaughn Category: 1 through F > Damien: Omen II Views: 2471 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Damien:Omen 2. This is fiction and I make no money off of it.

Chapter List
- 1-Pricked by a Thorn
- 2-Chapter Two
- 1
- 2
Thursday couldn't come fast enough for Raynee after what she'd just experienced. Her heart leaped for joy at finding the Boy she'd always longed for. Could it be that someone had found out about her and chosen her to be with Damien because she would be especially compatible with him? Maybe that's why it had to be kept secret; he was probably being groomed for a very important political career and something like his sexual predilections could really get in the way if not reined in early. This was the story Raynee told herself as she showered that evening. When she got into bed she relived every moment of their encounter until she was so aroused her hand snaked down to touch herself. Remembering Damien's order, she swiftly pulled her hand away and concentrated on him. She would not be allowed to come unless he said it was okay. For some reason this excited her no end, and she stayed away for two more hours fighting a desperate need for release. She imagined Damien probably took care of himself quickly that evening, and she only regretted that she had not been allowed to help him.

Neff asked her how her "date" went when they were sitting down to breakfast the next morning.

"Fine," Raynee mumbled around a spoonful of cereal.

He gave her a hard look but she feigned innocence.

"This is important, Raynee."

Raynee wanted to ask why her father was so damn invested in Damien Thorn's sexual life, but bit her tongue. Such insolence would definitely not be welcomed and would more likely be punished and not in a way that she would enjoy. She bided her time until late Thursday when she was set to meet Damien once more at the cabin. This time she chose a more normal outfit becoming of a pretty teenager meeting a boyfriend for a little tryst: jeans and a button down sweater. The sweater for easy access and the jeans because she liked to ride the thick seam.

Raynee sat in the back of the limousine that had come to pick her up with her legs crossed, her thighs clenching and unclenching furiously as they approached the cabin. By the time she reached the door, she was already wet and ready.

Damien did not disappoint. Once the door's lock clicked, he gave her a once-over.

"Better," he said, taking her hand and leading her into the bedroom. "But I'm afraid you won't be wearing that outfit very long my dear." He pushed her onto the bed and stripped off his shirt. He stared down at her darkly, like a starving animal who had stumbled upon a feast.

Raynee reached up to begin unbuttoning her sweater but Damien stayed her hand. "I'll do that." He worked each button languidly, exposing her skin inch by creamy inch. Once the sweater was disposed of, he reached behind her and unhooked her bra and threw it on the floor. "Lay back," he said almost tenderly and she complied, allowing him to open the button of her jeans, pull the zip down and slide the material from her legs. Now she lay before him with only her bikini knickers covering her. Raynee crossed her arms over her chest protectively but Damien shook his head slowly. "Raynee," he said with a sigh. "Sit up and put your arms at your sides."

Raynee pulled herself up and lowered her arms. Her face burned with shame but it secretly delighted her. That sensation of being examined, being under someone's scrutiny, was so electrifying for Raynee that she could barely stand it. She knew what was coming and both dreaded and eagerly anticipated it.

"There, that wasn't so bad. I want you to take off your knickers and stand in front of me." Damien sat on the bed and watched as she pulled off her bikinis. He looked her over approvingly. "Very nice."

Raynee gave him a small smile of what she thought of as thanks for his compliment.

"Have you ever had a cock in your mouth before, Raynee?" Damien asked, unbuckling his belt and opening his pants.

"No," she said.

"Would you like to suck my cock now?"

Her heart pounded against her chest and her cunt flooded with juices just hearing him say those words aloud.

"Y-yes," she stammered.

"Very good. Come here and get on your knees in front of me."

Raynee didn't know what to expect as she'd only seen photos of penises before and never the real thing. Damien pulled his trousers and boxers down in one go and stood in front of her, his erect cock obscenely in her face.

"Open your mouth, Raynee."

Damien took hold of her hair and slid his cock past her lips and into her warm mouth. He watched his shaft disappear and reappear as he slowly fucked her.

"Keep your lips tight and watch your teeth. If you scrape me, you'll regret it."

Raynee felt like a whore as Damien used her mouth for his pleasure. She ran her tongue along his shaft and only when he had almost pulled out all the way did she get to taste the slippery pre cum on the head of his cock. Just a bit salty but not unpleasant. The most difficult task at hand was keeping her teeth from touching him. Because he controlled the pace and depth, Raynee had to constantly adjust to the changes. He pulled out and she thought for a second that she must have nicked him or something, but he didn't seem angry. She stayed on her knees and watched as he went over to a large wooden door fastened shut and secured with a combination lock. He punched in a code and the lock disengaged.

"I've got a treasure trove here, Raynee. Come see," he said.

Raynee got up and joined Damien at the door of the Closet. What she saw inside made her very uneasy. She hadn't thought to be afraid of Damien, that her father wouldn't put her into harm's way and that perhaps Damien was just experimenting with dominance. Therein lay the problem; he was experimenting and not only had the inclination but the actual tools to cause her very great and lasting pain if that's what he wished to achieve.

Some of the items in the Closet were nothing less than devices of torture and it was these that caused her to truly fear for her safety. Surely her father would not allow Damien to go that far. Raynee trusted her father, but something about this wasn't right.

"What do you think?" asked Damien, watching her.

When Raynee didn't answer, Damien brought his lips to hers and kissed her almost tenderly. "Scared?" he whispered against her lips.

"Yes," she replied.

"Good." Damien turned away from her and rooted around in the Closet for a few toys. He procured a riding crop, a pair of handcuffs, and a length of rope. "Get on the bed."

Raynee stepped away backwards, watching him as he advanced upon her. When the backs of her knees touched the bed, she turned and climb up on it but moved up toward the headboard, cowering.

"I'd tell you not to be afraid, but I think you have good reason to be, Raynee," said Damien. "But don't worry, I'm not going hurt you…much."

Damien tied Raynee's wrists together and then fastened the other end of the rope to the headboard so that her arms were pulled up over her head.

"Raynee, you're a smart girl, aren't you? You're Neff's daughter so I'm assuming you probably have been schooled very thoroughly and know your history. Am I correct?"

Raynee nodded meekly, unsure where Damien was going with this.

"This is the game we're going to play: I'm going to give you an event, and you tell me the date on which it happened. If you get it right, you don't get flogged with this crop. If you get it wrong, you do. The catch is that for every wrong answer, the number of times I will strike will increase. So let's say you get one wrong. One strike. Two wrong, two strikes and so on. We will do this for let's say…" he consulted the clock. "Twenty minutes. Now put your thinking cap on because I'm sure you will want to show off how educated you are."

Damien remembered when a teacher at school had done the same thing to him – minus the flogging, of course. He'd gotten every date correct and Neff had given him grief for showing off. This was a little present back to good old Neff with thanks for the idea.

"Queen Victoria is crowned."

Raynee hesitated and her voice broke as she answered. "1837."

Damien tapped the crop's length in his palm, itching for the girl to fail so he'd get a chance to use it. "Britain sends the first ships of prisoners to Australia."

"1788," said Raynee. She was very good with history but Damien probably had some tricks up his sleeve so she didn't put any faith in him to be fair.

"Joan of Arc is burned at the stake."

"1431."

Damien grew visibly frustrated. He stood over Raynee, almost scowling at her. "Sinking of the Titanic."

"1912."

"The Berlin Wall is erected."

"1961."

"Death of Nathan Hale."

"1776."

"Wounded Knee massacre."

"1889."

"Sorry, Raynee. Eighteen ninety, my dear. But you are better with history than I suspected. Your father has a lot to be proud of."

Damien then lashed her forcefully with the riding crop, leaving a red mark on her stomach. He used it again on her thigh, even though she hadn't gotten another question wrong. She gasped in pain and surprise, and almost asked him why he'd done it. But she knew why; because even if she got every answer correct, Damien simply wanted to hurt her.

"We've only got a few more minutes of this, so I may have to mix things up a bit. You're far too good at this game, Raynee." He surveyed her for a moment as she lay on the bed, her knees pulled up to her chest. "Would you like to say something?"

She nodded.

"Go on."

"What do you want with me, Damien?" she asked in a half whisper.

"We're just having some fun together. Aren't you having fun, Raynee? I know you like this, and I do as well. We're perfect for each other that way, don't you think?"

"I like some of it," she said carefully. "But some of those things—" she looked toward the Closet.

He followed her gaze. "Yes. Impressive, isn't it? But I wouldn't use all of those things on you, Raynee. I'm not trying to kill you, you know."

He stared at her for a moment and Raynee held her breath.

"Seriously. I'm not trying to kill you. What fun would that be? Then you'd be gone, and I'd have to find another playmate. And we've only just begun here. In time, I think you'll start to understand me more and you will probably be more frightened in some ways but relieved in others."

Damien untied the ropes and released her and Raynee rubbed at her stomach and thigh where the red marks had grown angry looking.

"Was that too much?" asked Damien, gesturing to his handiwork.

"A little."

"Did you like anything about it?"

"Yes."

"What? Tell me."

"I like you…controlling me. But I don't like when you do things unexpectedly."

"Well, I told you I'd lash you with the crop."

"Yes, but I got the answer wrong once and you hit twice."

"Like I said Raynee, you were just too good at the game. You have to let me have my fun. That's why you're here, after all."

Damien walked into the bathroom and she heard him turn on the tub's faucet. A minute later he reappeared in the doorway. "Come on."

Raynee joined him in the bathroom and saw that he'd drawn a bubble bath in the huge garden tub. He slipped into the tub and beckoned to her to join him, which she did. He had her sit in front of him, in between his legs. His arms came around her and his hands slid over her stomach. She flinched, still sore. His hands roved higher and he cupped her breasts, causing her to lean her head back against him. He kissed her ear, lapping at her earlobe and nipping at her skin. Moving to her neck, he sucked hard, enough to leave a mark.

Raynee shifted and turned around to face Damien and looked into his eyes. He stared back at her, then kissed her. Raynee responded in kind and she pressed up against him, the soapy water allowing her to slide along his body easily. His hands moved to her ass and he grabbed her, pulling her close to him. She could feel the hardness of his cock pressing against her insistently. She moved her legs outside him, straddling his body and practically sitting in his lap. Damien lay back against the tub and watched her as she ground her body down on him.

"I want to fuck you," he said, reaching down into the water to touch her. "Have you ever had sex, Raynee?"

"No," she said.

"A pretty girl like you? What, were you saving yourself?"

"Something like that."

"Not religious reasons, I hope."

"No."

"Do you want me to fuck you?"

Raynee kissed him hungrily, moving against him as he moaned deep in his throat. The anger and betrayal she felt earlier with his harsh treatment of her had been displaced by a surge of lust. He felt so warm, so good against her, and she'd fantasized about having sex with him, but never like this. This was better than her fantasies. She knew it would hurt the first time and that added to her pleasure because in some ways she enjoyed being hurt. She did want to have some semblance of control over it, and there was a line she knew couldn't be crossed but hadn't exactly figured out where to draw that line yet. This was dangerous, playing with Damien. Not knowing her own limits. Not protecting herself. But that was also part of the fun. She couldn't have it both ways.

Damien pushed his finger up inside her, causing her to gasp at the sudden intrusion. This was quickly replaced with a cry of pain as he swiftly removed his finger and pushed his cock up into her. He grabbed her hips, pulling her down onto him. Raynee gripped his shoulders as he breached her maidenhead and seated himself fully within her. Water splashed outside the tub but he didn't seem to care about making a mess or even flooding the place. He was staring at Raynee intently, watching every move she made, her expression, her pain, her pleasure.

Damien held her still and drove in and out of her until she started to ride him, learning how to move, how quickly and how he seemed to enjoy it most. After a few minutes Damien grew bored and pulled out of her.

"What is it?" she asked, concerned that she'd done something wrong.

"Come on," he said, and got out of the tub. She followed him to the bedroom and he grabbed her and pushed her face down on the edge of the bed so that she was bent over it and dripping wet in more ways than one.

He took her from behind, shoving his cock back into her sore opening until she could feel his testicles pressed against her body. He fucked her fast and hard, pushing her into the bed. She gripped the comforter and cried out each time he thrust in.

"Do you like this?" he growled in her ear as he leaned over her back.

"Yes!"

"I'm going to come inside you," he said.

A bolt of fear shot through her then, because she only just remembered that they hadn't used any protection.

"Don't!" she cried. She tried to move from under him, but he held her fast. She could feel his cock becoming more rigid inside her and then he stilled his movements and she felt his cock pulse against her walls. He held her tightly as he came and didn't release her until he was well spent.

With that, he stepped away from her.

"Time's up," he said.

Raynee turned over and looked at him, tears running down her face. She expected him to ask how she was, if she was all right, but he looked at her almost contemptuously.

"See you next time, Raynee," he said, and went into the bathroom to wash himself.

Raynee dried off, dressed and let herself out. She was already looking forward to their next meeting.
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Pricked by a Thorn