Prisoner of My Own Body

*Being Edited
16 year-old Sophie's in for more than she expected when she meets One Direction. The boys, Harry especially, take a liking to her body and feisty attitude immediately, and kidnap her to be their own little toy. But then they tell her her mom sold her to them? She's in constant confusion, blindly trying to foresee what will happen to her next as the boys are bi-polar most of the time. The worst part is that Sophie is starting to develop feelings for her kidnappers, and some of them also start developing feelings for her.....


12. Pleasure

I wake up to see five faces. Five smirking faces.

“Why are you all smirking like idiots?” I ask drowsily.

“You talk in your sleep,” Louis says laughing. I sit up really fast.


“You were moaning very loudly,” Harry laughs.

I start blushing, and hide under the covers.

“Don’t hide love! It was cute!” Niall says, lowering the bed sheets to see my face. I snuggle deeper into them, but Harry pulls the sheets completely off, making me curl in a ball. I shiver and close my eyes.

“Harry I’m cold and I’m tired... I just want ten more minutes―”

“You aren’t gonna go back to sleep Soph. There’s only about thirty minutes left till landing and I highly doubt Niall was finished with you earlier,” he denies.

“And I didn’t even get to start!” Louis adds.

“Do you need to start?” I mumble in the pillow.

“What was that?” he replies. I groan, hugging the pillow to my body.

“Okay, that’s enough! Liam, Zayn, hold her legs. Louis, help me with her arms,” Harry declares, his patience thinning. I curl into an even tighter ball, but their grips are firm on my limbs. Struggling against them feels like I’m wrestling with iron; it’s an impossible battle. They succeed to immobilize my body on the bed in a matter of seconds.  As soon as I’m pinned down, Niall places himself between my legs, sitting on his knees. I shudder.

“Don’t worry about me! I don’t feel like a lab rat at all at this moment,” I mutter angrily. “Ouch! You’re hurting me!” I say, twisting my body under their grip as Harry’s and Louis’s fingers brush my cut wrists.

“Maybe if you’d shut up and stop struggling, you could maybe learn to enjoy what will now be your daily treatment!” The curly-haired boy retorts, his fingers digging even deeper into my wrists. I can’t help whimpering in pain, and stop fighting altogether, giving up breathlessly. Their hold doesn’t falter.

“No. You can’t force me to pleasure myself on a daily basis!” I reply with a heated gaze. “It’s not pleasure if it’s forced anyways!”

“Darling, we all know how to make your body sing without your mind’s consent. I’m pretty sure you’ll figure out a way to do it too. Or you can always ask one of us to help you for the first couple of times, just like Niall is about to do,” Louis responds, smugness evident in his British voice. “I’ll personally be glad to help.”

“No thank you,” I spit back. “You guys are so complicated and incomprehensible,” I exhale in disbelief.

“And why is that?” Zayn answers back.

“You’re willing to punish me because I’m supposedly fantasizing over Ian and not you guys, meaning you’re the ones that want all the pleasure to yourselves. But here you are all ogling me like curious horny teenagers, craving to watch me to get my own pleasure.” I explain rapidly, feeling lightheaded at the end.

“You’re just as perplexing you know!” Liam argues. “One second you’re as rebellious as ever, and the next you’re just begging for our attention.”

“We’re simply aiming to make this as enjoyable for you as it is for us,” Niall says softly.

“Not going to happen,” I deny.

Feeling numb in my hands, I shake them a bit, but Louis’s and Harry’s hold get tighter around my wrists, making me wince.

Niall’s gaze on me is as enquiring as ever, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Can you loosen your grips? I can’t feel my limbs.” I state, grimacing once more. They don’t slacken their grasp. “Okay okay! I’m at his mercy!” I continue, flashing a glance at Niall. “I won’t do anything except what he tells me to! Just let go please!” I plead. I sigh in relief as soon as I feel their clutch relax and the blood circulating normally around my body again. “Thank God,” I mutter.

“Now off with the clothes.” Niall starts, as if nothing happened. His warm hands travel slowly along my stomach and on my waist, playing with the hem of the cheerleading skirt, before sliding it down my legs. It makes me automatically remember our little time together backstage. His thumb pads trace patterns on my thighs, making me tense up abruptly.

I close my eyes in shame, feeling faintly aroused already. Stupid, stupid body. This is bad! I deliberate mentally.

“Harry, Louis? Could you take her top off? I’m a little stuck here.” It hits me. My top leaving means my cuts are going to be visible. Shit.

“Bring your arms up,” Louis instructs as if I was a child. I grimace and do it anyways whilst he and Harry struggle to take the top off completely. I rapidly cover my chest with my arms as soon as it’s off, hiding my cuts as I do so. A light blush rises on my skin as I feel their predatory stares on my bare skin.

“Place your arms on either side of your body alright?” the Irish boy asks. “You need to relax or it won’t work.”

“How can you possibly expect me to relax if I have five boys staring at my naked body?” I protest, lower-lip trembling.

“Like this,” he begins before placing his hands on each side of my head and bending down so his chest is hovering over mine. His soft breath hits my neck. The blonde lowers himself and kisses the inside of my neckline gently. I shut my eyes, a very quiet whimper escaping my lips. He lets a small amount of his weight press on my covered chest as he kisses the hollow of my neckline once, then twice, moving leisurely to the other side. My whole body seems to be made out of marshmallow as Niall carefully takes my arms and slides them off my chest, before kissing my skin one last time, a little below my jaw line.

I’m unable to move as he places himself back on his knees, between my open legs. The bed feels like a cloud and my mind feels blissfully numb.

“Now,” Niall says, trying to keep his voice steady because he’s clearly worked up, “take your hand and run it slowly from your neck to your thighs.”

I quickly run my hand down the outlines of my body, nervousness making me shaky and insecure.

“A little slower, Soph. Take your time.”

I sigh and unsteadily try again, letting goosebumps rise over my skin at the cold contact.

Niall clears his throat and swallows thickly. “Take both hands and run your fingertips over your breasts.” Just like the rest of the boys, his gaze is intense and his trousers are getting uncomfortable.

“Now, slowly move your fingers to your nipples. Take your thumb and index finger and massage your nipples.”

I do it, but frown slightly. "I don't feel anything."

Niall ponders for a minute. “Dip your hand inside yourself and use the liquid to massage your breasts.”

“What? No―”

“Just do it, trust me,” he urges.

I sigh shakily before sliding a finger inside myself, then out.

“Rub it on each of your breasts and try again.”

I slowly obey, the sensations having little effect.

“Apply pain.”

"What?" I turn my head to look at Harry.

"Apply pain," the curly-haired boy repeats. "That'll help."

"O…kay…" I notice that they’re all sitting very still. I pinch my right nipple and pleasure/pain lights up my body. I massage and pinch over and over again, reflexively arching my back up.

"Okay," Niall sounded a little breathless. "Run your right hand down your body― slowly, and run your finger up and down."

"On what?" I ask breathlessly.

He gives me a “what do you think?” look and I blush.

I slide my middle finger up and down between my lower lips, feeling myself dampen.

"Press your middle finger onto your clit and rub it in circles, slow at first. Take your time," his voice is slightly strained. I do as asked, and feel a lot more fluid come out. I gasp and stop moving.

"Why is-"

 Louis laughs lightly. “Because you’re body likes to be touched like that.”

Niall bites his plump lip, his breathing a little uneven.

“Keep going,” he instructs. “You’re doing just fine.”

I keep stimulating myself until my body suddenly tightens. “Oh, oh, oh!” I think I’m going to come but Niall stops me. I pout.

“Insert two fingers inside yourself,” he advises softly.

I hesitantly slide my middle and ring finger inside myself.

“Start off slow. Slide them in and out and curl your fingers a bit to caress your inner walls.”

I slowly thrust my fingers in and out, moaning softly. I begin to move faster, but catch myself and slow down.

“No, Sophie,” Niall says. “You can go faster. Just let yourself feel it. Try running your left hand down the back of your left thigh.”

I resume my hurried pace before running my other hand over the sensitive skin of my thigh.

“Switch hands,” he says softly. “Raise your left leg and use your right hand to work your clit, as you move your left hand around your leg, insert your fingers in.”

I blush hearing such words come out of his mouth, but I do as told. “Oh!” I gasp again. The combination of my fingers inside me and my other fingers on my clitoris feels amazing. I become self-conscious of the wet sounds my fingers are making, but Niall’s soft grunts tell me it isn't a problem.

The boys all sit watching me, their erections painfully trapped in their trousers.

I moan once more, feeling my body tense again. I don’t mean to, but Niall’s name comes out of my lips.

“Oh God Niall!”

“Fuck,” I hear him curse, before he’s struggling with his belt to take his trousers off.

I’m on edge, but I can’t manage to make myself cum.

“Here, let me help you out with that. You’ve been good.” Niall says, finally ridding himself of his pants. My breathing gets raspy and unsteady with anxiety. His head dips down between my legs, his soft hair brushing my clit and he licks my fluids shyly, his smooth tongue doing miracles to my body.

“Oh my fucking God. Niall!” I spew as he starts tongue-fucking me roughly. I grab his hair, bringing him even closer to me, not caring about the wrongness of it all. I feel myself entering seventh heaven as I orgasm hard and he laps up my juices hungrily. Niall backs up a little to look at me straight in the eyes. His eyes are glazed with lust and something else I can’t put my finger on with all this haze.

“How did that feel love?” He asks voice thick as if he’s sated.

“Good. So fucking good.” I answer panting. He licks his lips and nods.

“So from now on, you have to feel that good at least once a day, and one of us has to be watching you as a witness,” Harry utters, also breathless. Louis’ smiling and about to add something but a beeping noise stops him.

“Attention gentlemen, and lady, we will be landing in less than 5 minutes so if you would please head to your designed seats and buckle up immediately,” Ian’s voice resonates through a speaker. Harry, Liam, Niall and Zayn all frown in unison, annoyance and hatred present in their eyes. And all hate of that because I supposedly fantasized about him. Nonsense! Louis though, seems a little frustrated.

“I didn’t even get my go with her!”

“Maybe you could find me some clothes? I’m actually a little cold now,” I propose, hugging my arms to myself to warm up.

“Alright,” he responds, slightly deceived. He leaves the room and comes back a few seconds later, with his shopping bags in hand. He drops them on the floor.

“Ok now everybody out! I get to dress her up alone!” He orders. The boys groan, but arrange their trousers and head out anyways.

“We have three minutes tops.” Louis says, rummaging into his bags. He throws me clothes, and I catch them, putting them all around me. He comes over to me with underwear, and helps me put them on, eyeing me appreciatively the whole time. I try not to pay attention, knowing it’s better than having quick sex with him instead. Louis helps me get inside the skirt, then the shirt. Every single time his eyes and hands approach, I’m careful to hide the insides of my wrists, worried of what would happen if he saw them.

Louis goes back to his bags and hands me a pair of red Toms, along with a navy leather jacket.

“Here. You mentioned you were cold. The London air can get a little chilly. Wouldn’t want you getting sick.”

I put it on and leave it open, feeling warm already.

“Sorry babe, you have to zip it up, or we’ll see all your hickeys. Unless you want a scarf...” he trails on but I decide against it and zip it up the whole way. “Great!” he exclaims before pulling me out of the room and bringing me to my seat. I buckle up, and see Louis doing the same thing. The boys start chatting lowly, and I look out the porthole to gaze at white fluffy clouds.

“I hope everybody’s buckled up. We’re landing!” Ian’s voice resonates through the jet, and I sigh. London, here I come.

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