=====================================================================
       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
  All stories in this archive are the property of the author.  They may
  be downloaded and read by private citizens.   They are not to be used
  by commercial web sites.    Persons using this material on commercial
  sites will be vigorously pursued by the hounds from hell, or my legal
  team, whichever is deemed necessary.  (These stories were written for
  adult entertainment and should not be accessed by children.)
  =====================================================================







			  Scroll down to view text











Archive name: sabahrod.txt
Authors name: Homer Vargas
Story title : Sabah and Rod

-----------------------------------------------------
(c) Copyright Homer Vargas - 2000 - This work is
copyrighted to the author, with all rights reserved.
May not be copied or posted without permission.
-----------------------------------------------------


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