Masquerade

by Derek Masters

  Brandon ties my wrists to the bedposts and then stands up and begins taking off his shirt. My eyes watch with lust as he does so. During our hookup in his office, I didn’t get to see his body and am surprised by how good of shape he’s in.

  While I’m still taking in the scenery, he surprises me by coming onto the bed quickly, wrapping his arms around my thighs, and pressing his tongue right onto my wet slit. His tongue feels razor-sharp as he flicks at my clit. I throw my head back and writhe as he eats my pussy, unable to do anything more than just tilt my head back. He looks up at me and flashes a grin.

  “I can’t believe how fucking good you taste,” he tells me before diving right back in, sucking and stroking on my clit.

  Stiffly, he shoves his fingers into my hole and starts working them in and out of me as he tortures and teases me. He’s an expert at what he’s doing, and in a matter of minutes, I’m cumming all over his face.

  I get super sensitive after an orgasm, and it doesn’t take him long at all to figure this out. He’s relentless and will not let up. My body goes into convulsions and explodes into pure euphoria as he keeps torturing my pussy, his strong hands gripping my thighs while his fingers dig deep into my skin.

  Even though I’m attached to the spreader bar, I keep trying to attempt to tighten my legs. I’m so sensitive that I’m doing everything I can to try to get him away from my pussy.

  “Please, please, stop,” I pant, trying to catch my breath between each word.

  “That’s all you’ve got?” He mocks. “You’re going to have to do better than that. You’re going to have to beg, and you’re going to have to mean it.

  He slaps my ass as hard as he can, the stinging serving as a reminder of what happened last night.

  “I want you to beg like the little slut you are,” he growls before focusing his tongue on my clit once again.

  My eyes are rolling into the back of my head, and I feel like my pussy is going numb.

  “Please, Sir! Please stop!” I scream. “I’m begging you! Please, leave my pussy alone!”

  Brandon looks up at me with the cocky grin on his face as he wipes my arousal from his mouth, his goatee glistening. From out of nowhere, he reaches up and takes my nipples between his fingers. My pussy is being spared for the moment, but this is not a gentle touch. Slowly, he twists them, rolling them roughly between his fingertips. I ache for him to take them into his mouth and feel his warm breath on them.

  “Suck on them,” I plead.

  “Are you telling me what to do?” He questions. “If you want something from me, you better fucking grovel. Fucking beg!”

  “Please suck on my nipples,” I urge him, not even caring how desperate I sound. “Please, sir!”

  Satisfied, he takes my nipples into his mouth, alternating between sucks and hard bites. Between these two sensations, he’ll remove his mouth and smack my tits, leaving welts each time. It hurts, but it feels so good at the same time.

  I can’t believe the power he has over me right now. I’d give almost anything to feel his cock between my legs. I can already see that it’s bulging in his pants, and his zipper looks like it could give out at any second. I wouldn’t be surprised if it broke right through his zipper. It’s like a missile, and all I want is for him to fire it inside of me.

  I break out in a sweat as he continues sucking on my throbbing nipples while also reaching down, rubbing my soaked pussy. The rough pad of his thumb brushes across my clit, sending cold chills right down my spine. I want him to do so many things to me. I want him to kiss me again. I want him to bite my neck. I want him to torture my nipples. Most of all, I want to feel him deep inside of me.

  “Sir, please, I need your cock,” I say, throwing my head back

  He brings his mouth next to my ear, biting on my earlobe.

  “You want my cock here?” He whispers into my ear as he presses his hand against my pussy. The warmth from his breath in my ear drives me insane.

  “Yes,” I reply in little more than a whimper.

  “Then you better make me fucking believe that you really want it,” he tells me, flicking his tongue at my nipple.

  “Please, let me have your cock. I’ll do anything.

  “Is that right? Anything?

  He grabs a fistful of my hair, twisting it in his hand while using his free one to rip down his pants and boxers, kicking them into the floor next to the bed. I look down at his cock as he makes it jump, almost as though he can’t wait to get it inside of me. It’s hard as a rock, pre-cum already beginning to pool at the tip.

  “Yes, sir,” I whisper.

  “Then you better suck this cock and make me believe you want me to fuck you with it.”

  He doesn’t have to say anything else. I have limited movement but open my mouth wide, inviting him in. Straddling over me, he shoves his cock into my mouth as I suck it with all I have, swirling my tongue around the head as I move my head back and forth.

  “Fuck, you keep that up and you’re going to end up with my load in the back of your throat.”

  Brandon thrusts his hips as he begins fucking my face. My jaw is becoming sore as a mixture of his pre-cum and my saliva are all over my chin. I want to grab the base of his cock and stroke him, but I can’t since I’m tied to the bed. I gag as he fucks my mouth even harder. I try hard to catch my breath, but that’s nearly impossible with a huge dick shoved into the back of your throat.

  Mercifully, he slowly backs away.

  “Tell me you want my cock in your pussy. Beg for my cock,” he orders.

  “Sir, I want your cock buried in me. Please give it to me.”

  Seemingly satisfied, he removes the spreader bar from my ankles and pushes himself between my legs. I gladly spread my thighs apart, surprised by how much of my own juices are covering them. With ease, he slams his cock inside of me, not bothering to go slow to get me used to his size. His cock is massive, but I’m taking it like a champ. He’s fucking me like a jackhammer and burying himself balls deep into me. Pounding into my pussy, he quickened his pace.

  Sinking his teeth into my shoulder, he growls with delight. Sweat is dripping from his brow as he fucks me senseless. I can feel myself getting close as my pussy is gripping him so tight.

  “That’s right. Be a good girl and cum all over my cock,” he moans as he hammers into me, going deeper with each and every thrust.

  My thighs tighten as I start to come, wrapping myself around him tightly. He only allows this for a brief moment before using his big, strong hands to pull my thighs apart again. Even though I just had an intense orgasm, he isn’t letting up at all. The brutal fucking continues. Just as I thought the orgasm was over, another shockwave comes racing through me.

  “Fuck, I’m cumming again!” I yell.

  I explode as his missile cock tears through me. Brandon sits up on his knees and wraps his hands under my ass, lifting it up from the bed. Picking up his pace, he pounds my hole as he maneuvers my body like a rag doll.

  Almost twenty minutes go by until I feel his cock start to swell. I pant and I moan as he fucks me as hard as he possibly can. With a few final deep thrusts, his cock explodes thick ropes of cum into me, flooding my pussy. With each deep penetration, I can feel his jizz seeping out of me, and he fills me to the brim. Before I know it, the sheets are wet with our cum mixed together, the smell of sex filling the room.

  Sweaty, he collapses on top of me as he catches his breath. My mind and body are trying to recover from the earth-shattering orgasms he’s given me.

  I loved every second of what he’s just given me, but I hate that it’s the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. I’ve been dwelling on what the rest of my life might look like, but this has made me feel more alive than I’ve felt in ages. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had sincere attention from anyone in my life. Even if that attention comes in the form of sex and punishment, I can see myself being happy with that. I want to be important to someone, even if that means being a sex slave to accomplish it.
r />   “This is your new bed,” Brandon tells me after putting his pants back on.

  “What do you mean? Are we switching rooms?”

  “We aren’t doing anything. You are. This is your room now. I’m only going to come down when I want sex from you or have some other need that you can fulfill.”

  “No, you can’t do that,” I plead with him, very disappointed in his decision. “We’re making good progress. Just let me sleep with you. I’d feel a lot better than sleeping down here by myself.”

  “I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it’s going to have to be. You’re not my lover. You’re just my pet. There is a huge difference. I’m not the type to let my pet sleep in my bed with me.”

  I watch in shock as he releases the rope and restrains me to the bed with handcuffs on a large chain, once again leaving one of my arms free.

  “This chain is long enough to make it to the bathroom right here,” he tells me as he turns on the light to a small room with a toilet, sink, and shower. “I’ll make sure you’re fed, and I’ll come to see you anytime I need to.”

  As he leaves the room, all the positive feelings I was having for him quickly fade away. I fucking hate him. He’s so damn cruel to me. I should have known that he doesn’t give a fuck about me, but I’ve always equated sex with feelings, so I allow myself to get that glimmer of hope. I guess I’m the stupid one.

  Never again will I allow myself to feel that hope. How could I ever think I could develop feelings for a man who only sees me as an object.

  Chapter 15

  Brandon

  Three Months Later

  Chloe has been here for a while now, and it’s been great having her as my pet. Her parents have been a non-factor in our relationship. They seem to be entirely unconcerned about the fact that she’s staying here with me. As a matter of fact, nobody seems concerned about her whereabouts or her well being.

  This is a good thing for me because nobody is coming look for her to make sure she’s okay, but I can’t help being confused by the fact that the people who are supposed to care about her literally don’t seem to give a fuck.

  She seems to be a great girl. From everything I can tell, she’s incredibly intelligent, strong, hard-headed, and has the instinct to be independent. Knowing all of these things, the most confusing part is that she seems to have completely accepted being forced to rely on me. I can’t wrap my head around why there aren’t more people in her life who are there for her and want her back home.

  Refocusing, I tell myself that I have to stop thinking these thoughts when it comes to Chloe. She is not my girlfriend. She’s just my toy, so there’s no reason for me to be thinking of all her positive qualities, yet I can’t help but think about them.

  Once again, I have to remind myself that she is my pet. I cannot allow myself to fall for her. Why is this even an issue? I made a deal with the cartel because I knew this wasn’t going to be a problem, so what the fuck is going on inside of my head? I’ve never fallen for a woman before. Ever! So what is it about Chloe? Why am I thinking about all of these things? There’s something about her. Something different. It’s something that I can’t get out of my head, even though I can’t quite put my finger on what it is.

  My phone starts vibrating on my desk. It’s Dimos. He never calls me directly, so the call must be urgent.

  “Dimos, what can I do for you?” I ask immediately upon answering the phone.

  “Do we have a problem, Brandon?”

  “I’m sorry?” I ask, confused about what he could be referring to.

  “I am calling to see if there’s some kind of problem I need to know about,” he replies.

  “Um, not that I’m aware of. Is there something wrong?”

  “Well, I’m following up on the meeting I arranged a couple of weeks ago,” he tells me, referring to the gentlemen he sent to my home.

  “Yes? I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

  “Let me refresh your memory. They told you that we need you to double the output of the money you’re laundering for us. Does that ring a bell for you?”

  “Yes, of course. But I informed them that I’m already laundering at full capacity. If I increase it anymore, it’s going to throw everything out of whack and send out a ton of red flags. If I double the output, we’re sure to get caught.”

  “Okay, let me explain something to you. My request to double the output was not a request or a recommendation. It was an order.”

  “Dimos, listen; it cannot be done without putting me at risk for a lot of trouble.”

  “That sounds like your problem. This is what we need, and you’re going to have to make it happen one way or another.”

  “I really don’t know if I can. I may be able to increase what I’m doing a little, but there’s no way I can double the amount I’m laundering. I just don’t see any real way to make it happen.”

  “Brandon, you’re going to figure it out, and you’re going to do this for us. If not, I’m going to have to come and pay you a visit personally, and I don’t think you’re going to like the results if that’s what I end up needing to do.”

  I try to reply, but he hangs up the phone before any words can leave my mouth. His request is asinine. There’s a reason I’m doing this for them instead of them doing it themselves. It’s because I know what in the fuck I’m doing. If I say something can’t be done, that should be good enough for them, but they don’t care. If I get caught, I can go to prison for a long time. It’s not his ass on the line.

  The phone call has me even more stressed than I was previously. I have too much nervous energy, so I need to go downstairs to visit Chloe to use her as an outlet to relieve the anxiety I’m feeling.

  When I enter her room, she is lying on her side, facing the wall. She doesn’t move when I come in like she usually does. She’s fast asleep. Typically, I just wake her up and take her; however I need to, but today, I’m not feeling it. Instead, I climb into bed next to her and lie down, which is something I never do. I know I should leave the room, but there’s a part of me who actually enjoys being around her.

  The weight of my body on the bed shifts the mattress, leading to Chloe turning over to look at me. At first, she seems annoyed that I’m waking her for my own selfish reasons, but she gets a quizzical look on her face when she sees me lying here staring up at the ceiling.

  “Are you okay?” She asks, surprising me that she would even want to know. Judging by the way her eyebrows squint after asking, it appears she surprised herself as well.

  “Yeah, why do you ask?” I question, intent on the fact that I’m not about to open up to her.

  “Well, because the only time you ever come in here is when you want to fuck me or punish me. You never come to lay in the bed.”

  “It’s the fucking cartel,” I tell her, rubbing my temples as a wicked headache forms. So much for not opening up. “They’re being a bunch of unreasonable assholes.”

  “Really? The cartel are being both unreasonable and assholes at the same time? Weird.”

  Even after everything, she still manages to keep hold of her sarcastic sense of humor. This is why I have been so conflicted with my back and forth thoughts when it comes to her.

  “They want me to launder more money for them,” I confess, not sure why I’m giving her any info at all.

  “What’s the problem? Isn’t that what you do?”

  “Yes, but they want me to double what I’m doing now. I’ve already optimized how I do things and can’t see a way to do more without being caught and having my ass thrown in prison.”

  “So just tell them that.”

  “You don’t think I’ve tried? That’s the first thing I did when they told me what they wanted me to do. Do you think they give a shit?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Definitely not. They don’t care if I end up in prison because there is always someone else who I’m sure will come right behind me and do the exact same thing I’m doing. I’m completely expendable to them
, and I don’t know why I didn’t see this before.”

  “I’m sorry,” she says. I can’t tell if she’s being sincere or just wants me to shut the fuck up so she can go back to sleep.

  “There’s no way I’m going to be able to make these numbers work. In all honesty, when I can’t do what they want me to do, there’s a good chance they’ll come and kill me. Once that happens, I want you to run away from here as fast as you fucking can! Run off and live the life you’ve always wanted to live!”

  I can see the deep thoughts written on her face as she contemplates what I’m saying.

  “I really am sorry that all of this has you so stressed out,” she says. Again, I’m having trouble gauging the level of sincerity.

  “Don’t be sorry. This is the life I signed up for when I got into bed with the cartel. I’ve done this to myself, and if I end up dead, I have nobody to blame but myself. Anyway, what about you?”

  “What about me?” She asks, confused as to why I’m asking.

  “I know this is a fucked up situation, but how are you? Are you doing okay? Do you like it here with me?”

  “Kinda, I guess. I mean, it’s not at all how I pictured my life at this point for sure, but it could be a lot worse. There are some things I miss.”

  “What kinds of things?”

  “Mostly reading and writing. I used to read a lot before I came here.”

  “Reading, huh? What kind of stuff do you like to read?”

  “That’s a tough one. I love so many authors. Some of my favorites are Stephen King, Gillian Flynn, Dean Koontz, John Grisham, people like that.”

  “I see, so you’re into the whole horror and suspense genre.”

  “Very much so. I grew up alone for the most part, so I’d stay up late at night watching horror movies anytime they were on. They became what I looked forward to the most. As I got older, books took their place. Speaking of growing up alone, has my father called to ask about me?”

  “Chloe, I haven’t heard from your father since the night of the event.”