Seven Days In Cell Block 7 by Lizbeth Dusseau
The lovely redhead Olivia Bennington is a shrewd young attorney, heading up the prosecution of drug lord Sonny Sanchez. One night while working late, Olivia believes she is drugged then sexually assaulted in her office by a mysterious assailant. The same thing occurs days later in the stairwell. She's convinced that Sanchez's mob is responsible, but with her memories of the incidents so vague and confusing, she refuses to tell a soul.
During a recess in the trial, Olivia takes off for Miami Beach for a much needed vacation. However, while on the plane, she falls into a restless sleep. When she awakens, she's lying naked on a dirt floor in a steamy jungle, staring through the bars of a crude prison cell. Her jailers are ruthless thugs, who are quick to administer humiliating punishments, after which they use her as their sexual toy. Though terrified by the rough abuse, her sexual body awakens to the pain and the endorphin-fueled orgasms that follow.
While suffering a string of indignities during the day, at night the captive Olivia dreams vividly of Miami Beach and the relaxing vacation she originally planned. Soon she's unsure what is real and what are just dreams. By the time she's abruptly plopped back into life, her job's in limbo, the media lies waiting to pounce and she has no explanation for her disappearance. With her life in a tailspin, she retreats to the family beach house. There she meets a charming man who promises her some semblance of normalcy. Yet the jungle still haunts her day and night. Was she the victim of a sophisticated plot? Did she suffer a nervous breakdown? Was her imprisonment even real? The truth will take some bizarre turns before Olivia finally has her answers and her life can begin again.
A sizzling erotic mystery, with graphic scenes that include bondage, whipping, sadism, punishment, humiliation, shackles, enemas, fisting, piercing, shock collars, psychological intimidation and savage sex, oral, anal and group sexs.
This was no dream—and there were no drugs pumping through her body and turning back her will to fight. But another sudden wave of vertigo threatened to send her plunging down the staircase and before she could gather her wits and move out of range, the man’s large body had established a firm position behind her. His hands were frighteningly real as they reached around and held her in an imperious grip. For several rough seconds she put every effort into throwing off the beastly thug, but he worked much too fast for her to thwart. In less than sixty seconds, her body was stripped of her blouse and a rag was stuffed in her mouth. Binding her hands behind her back, the humongous black shape of her assailant claimed her body as his prize.
The same assailant from the previous week? She had no way of knowing. The first had been more a presence than a real human being, but there could be no arguing over the immense physical strength of this man or his brutal aims. He smelled of leather and cigarettes, enough to arouse and choke her at the same time. When he bent down to bite her neck, she smelled his breath—a thick and aromatic scent hot enough to burn her skin.
The bite of his teeth left a bruising sting on her throat; the bite quickly followed by a sharp smack to her ass.
Olivia seized up instantly, realizing that in his scuffle for control he’d torn away her skirt and was smacking her naked ass and mauling the cheeks till she thought he would rip the flesh from her body. Then like that previous night, the invasion of her body began, fingers shoved inside her cunt first, and then her dry ass. He rammed them home like he would his cock, leaving Olivia to hope that he went no further with the rape.
But she wouldn’t be so lucky this time.
He began with her pussy, with his large member slipping neatly inside her slick hole and banging away until he demanded the tighter hole above. She wanted to scream when his gloved fingers began to probe her ass again, and yet his skillful technique made the penetration a good deal easier than she imagined possible. He’d obviously lubed her using the copious juices leaking from her sexy slit.
Her gut wrenched with sexual anguish as the man probed deep; but more importantly, the terrifying truth of her own desire was impossible to ignore. She’d been a sucker for anal sex ever since Tony first began toying with her nether hole. Adding to her misery, she could smell the scent of her sex rising up from her crotch, a clear indication that what seemed to be a brutal rape was turning into something altogether different.
Was it possible that on some level she was actually enjoying this?
She fought back against her rising arousal, but was quickly losing ground.
Her ass was filled, and suddenly her body was responding enough to wipe away her fears, at least momentarily. “Yes, yes fuck me!” she wanted to scream!
Again, she pushed her desires back, though she had little hope of defeating them. Already, she could feel her arousal gaining steam.
Did her body give away her lust? Did her grunts and groaning sound too much like pleasure? Was her physical response that of a sexually turned on female? A thousand questions battered her brain as the rape went on, as she tried to square the idea of this evil assault with its stimulating effects. Only when she thought to open her eyes did she realize that her assailant had her flung over the staircase rail—odd angle that it was—and his two hands were firmly gripping her ass cheeks as he pounded her asshole from behind. Her continuing vertigo made her grab for the lower railing. Even so, any second she expected to fall forward into the abyss below.
More of the pistoning action threw her thoughts into a tailspin. Her body was already headed for a climax even though she was determined not to go there. Then, just as she was certain the thug would spill his seed inside her, he pulled out and threw her to the side. As she lay sprawled out in the dark corner of the stairwell, he ejaculated his cream against her face. The fact that she was gagged might have made the end result a little easier to tolerate, but within a second, he ripped out the gag, pulled her face into his crotch, and spilled the last of his spunk down her throat.
“What a fuckin’ slut you are,” were the first words the man uttered. The last being, “Compliments of the boss.” The familiar message from the familiar voice was enough to confirm him as the same man who assaulted her the week before. A cold chill of fear darted up her spine. At least she could hope the rape was over and he’d make a fast retreat. But those grand conclusions were premature. Once his cock was back inside his pants, she saw him withdraw a vial from his pants, and leaning in close to her, he up-capped the cork and poured the contents into her mouth. She was too startled to react, and half the substance was sliding down her throat before she could think to spit it out. By then, enough of the drug was in her system for the lights to dim on her conscious mind and send her reeling into darkness. She didn’t see him step away, or hear the stairwell door open and close. The next thing she remembered was the pounding in her head when she awoke, and the cold feel of cement seeping into her body from the floor below.
Cover Image © Ben Marcato, www.ben-marcato.com