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Sabah and Rod





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T H E H O M E R V A R G A S S T O R Y A R C H I V E

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Archive name: sabahrod.txt

Authors name: Homer Vargas

Story title : Sabah and Rod

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(c) Copyright Homer Vargas - 2000 - This work is

copyrighted to the author, with all rights reserved.

May not be copied or posted without permission.

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Sabah and Rod

Copyright 2000 by Homer Vargas.

May not be copied or posted without permission.

This was inspired by "From Whose Borne No Traveler

Returns/Lilith" by Trey Galant and myself It imagines

what might happen as the aftermath of a situation

portrayed in the former story.

Slowly, like an Artic dawn, consciousness seeped back

into Rod's addled but contented brain. He attempted to

open his eyes, but soon gave up the effort. He felt

weak, as if suffering from a high fever. That would

explain the wild delusions he half remembered. He

tried to recall them, but all he could manage were

feelings - fear, warmth, protection. Soon even this

effort exhausted him and he drifted back to sleep.

The next time he awoke, he managed to open his eyes

fully. Light fell through the window at a sharp angle,

indicating mid-day. Rod was rather proud of himself

for this deduction. He must have been unconscious --

it didn't feel like mere sleep -- for many hours, or

could it be days? He wasn't strong enough to lift his

head, but he could roll it from side to side to gain

some idea of his surroundings. The bed where he lay

was in a rather sumptuous room -- heavy curtains, dark

wood, cabinets and chests around the walls. That

seemed to rule out a hospital and injury in an

accident. He had been driving last night, or that

night, right? Yes, driving in the snowstorm when the

car broke down. He tried to remember more. The large,

dark house on the hill, a woman, who had made him feel

warm and safe and then so sleepy. Yes, sleepy. The

memory lulled him and he closed his eyes again in

slumber.

When Rod opened his eyes the next time, he realized he

had eaten, or had been fed. A tray was beside the bed

with what looked like the remains of soup and an empty

glass. Morning light entered the room. Another day,

at least, had passed and he felt stronger. The room

was the same, but different as if it had been tidied

up. A hint of perfume hung in the air, the perfume of

the woman who made him feel so warm and sleepy and --

that was it - horny. His cock stirred as he remembered

her smile, the cleft of her breasts, the thin gown that

clung to her voluptuous body. She was indefinitely

older than he and exuded an air of having had many men

and of wanting him. He remembered a feeling of danger,

of knowing he should not to look at her, but she had

wanted him to look; her smile, her eyes, her body had

MADE him look. It was so confusing - and arousing --

thinking was difficult. He relented for a while and

lay still absorbing the peace and healing and slight

arousal he felt surrounding him.

He was not aware of having drifted off again, but when

he turned over he saw a different plate on the tray and

he was wearing a different pajama. He felt refreshed,

as if he had been bathed. The perfume was stronger and

he sensed it emanated from the other side of the bed,

which was rumpled. He tried again to remember what had

happened that night. Scenes without before and after

floated into his mind. The warmth, feeling protected,

the woman's strong arms holding him to her breasts.

She had cooed as he fondled and suckled her breasts.

And she had been on top of him, making love to him,

coming to multiple orgasms before making him shoot his

seed into her. Later or before? She had pressed a

sweet liquid to his lips and told him to sleep. He

didn't want to drink. He somehow knew it was drugged,

he didn't want her to put him to sleep, but she was

touching his penis as she spoke and it felt too good to

refuse her. She smiled as he sipped the liquid and she

laid him back. She spoke in a dreamy singsong as

drowsiness overtook him. He felt more and more at ease

and allowed her to cuddle him close to herself.

Fighting sleep, he succumbed in her arms, his head

buried in her breasts as she gently fondled him.

Again he awoke without knowing how long he slept. The

curtains were drawn closed, but he believed it was day.

His strength was definitely returning. He felt able to

sit up. He tried to do so, but fell back. Immediately

he realized it was not from weakness; he was tied to

the bed. Soft cuffs on his writs and ankles were

attached to the four corners of the bed by strong

cords. They had sufficient play to allow him to turn

to each side and were not really uncomfortable, but he

was restrained. He was a prisoner!

Panic flared and he again tried to sit up, then to pull

hard on the cords. He only succeeded in setting off a

chime alarm. Continued pulling led to nothing. The

chime stopped.

"Good morning, love," said a recorded voice. "I'm glad

you are feeling stronger and I am sorry I can't be with

you right now. Please forgive my having to restrain

you. I have to ensure you stay with me and, as I both

feared and hoped, taming your will has taken longer

than the recovery of your strength. Please don't tire

yourself in fruitless struggle, my sweet. I've only

done this to make sure you don't leave me. Just relax

and in a few days I can free you from these bonds."

The woman's calm voice, Sabah's voice -- he remembered

her name -- only set him to more desperate struggle.

The chime sounded again.

"Oh, my pretty lover, I don't want to have to do this,

but I cannot let you continue struggling that way. You

will only exhaust and harm yourself. I want your

strength for myself, not wasted futilely. Since you

did not willing do as I told you to rest and relax, I

must make you do it, my angel; I must make you sleep."

Rod continued to struggle without effect. "Now, now,

sweetheart, please do not struggle. Do you smell

something different, a little bit sweet, seeping up

from your pillow? Don't worry. It's just a light

anesthetic, darling. Don't you already feel more

relaxed? Getting a little drowsy? It's a very special

sleepy gas, honey that should put you in a peaceful,

happy mood. Peaceful and happy and something else,

darling."

The voice paused "Breath deeply my love. Are you

starting to feel good? And horny? I have a few more

things to tell you, dear, and nothing gets a man

relaxed and in a mood to do as he is told like a good

come darling. If I were there, I would make soft

sleepy love to you and you would not be able to hold

your eyes open. But I'm not there, so the gas must do

my work for me. It's getting bad, isn't it honey,

being so horny? You need to come, but you don't have

my warm wet pussy to pleasure you. But you know what

you can do; you'll just have to get yourself off and go

to sleep."

Rod seemed to shudder with the effort to ignore the

seductively dominant voice that had his prick was

twitching helplessly. "No ... wrong ...can't give in ...

don't want to listen ... don't want to sleep," he

protested, half consciously.

"No, dear, it cannot be wrong to listen to me, to give

in to me. It would be wrong if you pleasured yourself

instead of me. It would be wrong to please yourself

alone if I were there and wanted you to stuff your big

cock up my pussy, to fill me with your thick jism, if I

wanted to drink your sweet cum as I pleasured you with

my mouth, or even if I wanted to give you a hand job

just to see you close your pretty eyes in helpless

ecstasy for me. But I'm not there. So you will make

yourself come for me."

Rod's face was set with determination "No, no!" he

muttered, but the voice ignored him.

"There's a tube of lubricant under your pillow,

darling. Use a lot of it on your hand; it will make it

so much nicer when you slide your slick hand up and

down your cock to cum for me." Rod lay motionless.

"Better hurry honey. The gas must be making you

sleepier and I don't what you to go to sleep

frustrated. Frustration makes you hard and difficult.

I want you soft and easy, your mind soft and saturated

with the pleasure of a nice big come, unresisting, easy

for my words to penetrate. Do it darling! You know

how much you need it."

Shaking his head in defeat, Rod slowly reached under

the pillow and took out the tube, squeezing a generous

portion of the ointment onto his trembling hand. Dazed

by lust and the ever-present weakness, Rod did not

wonder how the voice seemed to know what he was doing

or to notice the sensors on his body that could have

supplied the answer. He gasped as he took his hard,

thick cock in his slippery hand.

The voice took note and spoke, "That's the way my poor

horny darling, slide it up and down your prick big and

hard for me. Make yourself feel good, sweetie ... that's

it. Make believe it's me pleasuring you. See my big

tits bouncing as I ride you. Feel my soft wide ass in

your hands as you guide me. It's my warm wet pussy

that's making you feel so good, so relaxed. That's it,

darling, you're getting closer. So sleepy, so horny,

so close. You feel it, don't you darling. Come ...

now ... for ME."

"Sabah, Oh Sabah ... Sabah ... Sabah" Rod groaned as

thick ropes of jism soiled his pajama. His hand fell

slack and his head lolled in unconsciousness. The

instruments detected the fall in blood pressure, the

decelerating heartbeat. "Yes, my precious. You've had

a good come. Now you are drained, tranquil and sated.

No thoughts, no frustrations, love. Now you can go to

sleep, a deep, deep sleep, my angel. Sleep ... sleep

...sleep," the voice died away as a faint empty smile

passed over Rod's face. The hiss of subliminal

instructions began again.

*****

This time Rod felt different when he awoke, stronger

and energetic, but more peaceful. At a sound, he

turned and saw the woman came in with a tray. This was

the Sabah he remembered. Taller than he even without

the heels, she wore a short tunic that fell loosely

around her abundant yet perfectly feminine form.

Something of her confident smile confirmed she was a

decade or two his senior, though she was untouched by

wrinkle or line. The food she placed before him was

different -- meat, potatoes, a large salad. A carafe

of wine sat by the plate. Without consciously

remembering he knew that before he had eaten only soups

and liquids. "Sabah?" he questioned.

"Shh, love. Eat. Regain strength. Time enough for

answers later." He saw he was still bound, but did as

she told him. He was famished and ate and drank

heartily. "Finish your wine, too, sweet," she grinned

as the last morsels of food disappeared. He looked at

her with apprehension. "Go on. What are you afraid

of? That I'll get you tipsy and take advantage of

you?" she grinned. He accepted the glass from her hand

and drank obediently.

"Why this, Sabah" he asked holding up an arm, a bond

hanging in a curve to the bedpost.

"Symbolic, my pet. Do you see how you are bound?"

"Silk scarves."

"MY silk scarves. But they are loose. Couldn't you

slip out of them?"

"Of course," he replied confidently.

"Then do so ... if you wish."

Rod began to pull on the scarf looped around his left

hand when he felt the fingers of his right hand grow

tingly as if "asleep." Slowly the weakness spread up

his arm until he could hardly hold it up, much less

free himself. "I ... I can't," he said with a mixture of

wonder and a little fear. "I am still a prisoner."

"No, Rod. You could leave if you wanted to. You can't

slip the bonds because you don't really want to leave

me. The ties mean you belong to me. You want to

belong to me."

"'Belong?'"

"Yes, you belong to me because I rescued you from the

storm. Do you remember the storm? How terrified you

were?"

A storm. Yes he remembered a storm. He supposed he

had been terrified. He nodded.

"And you remember how cold and wet you were? You had

nowhere else to go. I took you in."

Yes, he remembered the wet and cold and this beautiful

woman who opened the door. He nodded.

"We sat on the couch and talked and I made you drink

tea. And then do you remember what happened?"

Rod paused, ashamed of himself as the memory returned.

"I ... I got aroused," he almost whispered.

"I GOT you aroused," she grinned. "Yes, I opened my

gown to let you see my titties and like a naughty boy

you couldn't keep your eyes off them. And when I

spread my legs a little, you kept trying to see if I

had on panties. You were very horny, weren't you?"

"Yes ma'am," he admitted, his cock stirring.

"I could see your cock getting big, but I didn't get

mad at you, did I?"

"No ma'am."

"Of course I wasn't mad, Rod. I know what happens to

healthy young men who are alone in a cozy room with a

sexy older woman. I wanted to arose you. I wanted to

make you so horny you'd want me to fuck you. And I

did, didn't you?"

"Not exactly."

She smiled. "Well, of course your male ego made you

try to resist being seduced. You thought you should

take the initiative. And you were a little bit

frightened of me. But I got you over that, didn't I.

Do you remember how?

Rod could not speak for embarrassment.

"Don't feel ashamed, love. A horny man can't resist a

woman who offers him her pussy to eat. You did love

eating me, didn't you?"

"Yes ma'am," he agreed.

"That's right, Rod. And you did me so well, so

naturally. And when you finished, my dear, you were so

drugged on my pussy juice, you were helpless when I

mounted you. You had never had a woman take you from

on top, had you?"

"No ma'am."

"But you loved it when I made love to you that way?

Loved the helpless, vulnerable feeling of being taken

and used, used to pleasure me?"

"Yes ma'am."

"And that's why you will be happy being my mate,

belonging to me, making me happy, satisfying my needs."

"Your needs?" a little smile animated Rod's face.

"Oh, those needs too, my refractory lover. Yes I need

a good fuck as much as the next woman, much more, in

fact, and I don't always want to be on top. Sometimes

I'll let you please me with that big prick of yours,

just being my man, pounding me through so many orgasms

I loose control. But I have other needs, too. You

will learn more about that in due course, my pet.

Fortunately, you do not need to understand my needs to

service me. You did so the night I first took you.

Since then I have been nursing your strength back. I

think you are strong enough for little feeding."

"'Feeding?'"

"It's an analogy, dear. I need energy, sexual energy.

When you come with me, I can choose to grasp the energy

of our orgasm. The stronger you are, the more often

you can satisfy me ... in every way." She grinned.

"You take my energy?" Rod replied in what would have

been a protest had he not been so confused.

"But it's my energy, too, Rod, because you belong to

me, right?

"I guess," he replied, hardly thinking.

"And I always make it feel good to give it to me, don't

I," she asked and reached over to touch his half-erect

penis.

"Oh, yes!" he gasped as a thrill ran through him.

"Would you let me feed a little now? It will be

different this time. Before I took what I needed. You

were helpless and could not refuse. I don't want it

that way and I hope you do not"

"Sabah!" he sighed as she continued to fondle him.

"I want more than a slave, Rod, more than your

wonderful body, more than your raw energy. I want you

to give yourself to me."

Rod looked up at her. Fear and lust battled for his

soul.

"Of course you would, my angel, because I'm making you

horny again, making you want to come. But you are

still too weak to give me much. Let's just make this a

snack," she giggled. "How do you like this, my

darling?" And without waiting for a reply, she dropped

her mouth on to Rod's fully erect member. The aroused

young man could only moan his pleasure as Sabah's warm

wet mouth slid rapidly up and down his engorged cock.

She was not interested in prolonging his orgasm and his

teased body responded rapidly. In seconds Rod was

filling Sabah's mouth with spurt after spurt of come,

which she skillfully swallowed. The familiar taste and

inflowing energy triggered her own powerful orgasm.

When her head cleared and she felt his final drops ooze

out, Sabah removed her mouth from his cock and slid

softly into the bed beside him. Freeing his limbs from

the now un-needed restraints, gently she kissed him,

letting him taste his own spend in her mouth, but Rod

was too overwhelmed to respond. "Thank you, my

darling," she whispered. "Now you are truly mine and

you were as sweet as I knew you would be. Now you must

rest." A slight tensing showed a flicker of

instinctual resistance but Sabah quickly stifled it

with a kiss and pulled Rod's nodding head to her ample

bosom. "Yes, like that, my baby. Snuggle close to me,

in my arms. Let me take care of you, my precious.

Sleep with me Rod. Sleep, my darling, ... sleep."

Sabah placed a firm breast to Rod's mouth and smiled as

the young man unconsciously tried to suckle from her

erect nipple as he gradually grew still. Minutes later

when her own practiced hand had sent a final wave of

pleasure surging over her, Sabah snuggled against Rod's

hard chest and closed her eyes. Soon both were cuddled

together, sleeping so peacefully entwined that who

could tell if the handsome young man or the beautiful

older woman was the slave.

Continuation depends on response.

Comment, please, to:

Homer Vargas

Vargas111@yahoo.com