by Fawn Bailey
She took my arm in hers, her long talon-like nails digging into my skin as she led me away, up the stairs. I looked over my shoulder and saw the dark-haired girl looking at me intensely. Her eyes were apologetic, even though she’d done nothing wrong, and I hated myself for letting her down like that. She was the closest thing I had to a friend in there, despite the fact we’d never said a word to one another.
Pia led me to my room, her smile bordering on a snarl as we entered my own space. She walked inside briskly and began checking everything. Under the duvet, under the bed, in the closet. She rummaged through everything like a woman possessed and I just stared at her in shock, unsure of what was happening.
“What do you think you’re going to find?” I asked her bitterly, but she didn’t give me the time of day, just kept searching.
I sat down in front of the vanity and watched her with crossed arms. My heart was beating nervously, wondering if she’d find the sleeping pills I was supposed to take all that time ago. But she didn’t, and she came to stand in front of me with her hands on her hips as I tried to hide my relief.
“I know you’re up to something,” she said. “I know you’re trying to get away.”
I didn’t say a word as she leaned down, her beautiful face close to mine, twisted into a vicious snarl.
“I really don’t know what he sees in you,” she spat out, grabbing my cheeks and turning my head from side to side.
“You’re hurting me,” I hissed, but she paid me no mind, inspecting me closely.
This close, she looked even more infuriatingly perfect than she did from afar. Her skin was gorgeous, without a single blemish or freckle. her deep-set eyes were dark and sexy, and her lips were plump and rosy. I envied her. The beauty, the grace she moved with almost made her look like a dancer, though I doubted she knew anything about ballet. She hadn’t mentioned it once to me.
Still, the infuriated expression on her face made her seem more savage, rougher. I stared back at her without fear. I wondered if she was jealous of me, of the attraction Ellis obviously had for me. I’d never really thought of them together, but perhaps there was something there, and that made her angry because she thought he’d chosen me. She had nothing to worry about. I was going to get out of there and never look back, and I didn’t give a shit about Ellis anyway. All I had for him in my heart was resentment and the need for revenge for what he’d done to me.
“I see right through you,” she told me plainly, and then she finally let go, turning around.
I rubbed my cheek which still hurt from her claws, but I didn’t say a thing, instead waiting for her to look back at me. Her mask was firmly in place now and she was the beautiful, graceful Pia I had come to know so well. She was all business now, whatever had happened in the hall long forgotten in favor of what we had to do to prepare me for the worst day of my life.
“Time to get you ready,” she said with a wide grin. “We need you to look perfect tonight, after all. Don’t we?”
I nodded meekly, too scared to give her a proper reply. She was a loose cannon – one wrong look or word and she’d be all over me. She picked up a makeup brush from the counter and started working on my face, and I watched her without glancing at my own reflection. She was going through something, that was for sure. Her hand was shaking, and when she finished applying my blusher, I looked like a clown. I let out a little giggle when I looked at myself in the mirror, but when I shifted my attention to Pia, I noticed she was on the verge of tears.
“Hey,” I said gently, reaching for her hand adorned with ring after ring. “Are you all right?”
She snatched her hand away from me, and the fake smile was back in place, as bright as ever. Just like that, my chance of a confidante was gone.
“I’m fine,” she snapped. “Now, let’s focus on making you as beautiful as we possibly can. Big day today, isn’t it?”
I nodded miserably and let her get back to work.
By the time she was finished, I could barely recognize myself. Maybe it was a good thing. After what they’d done to me, I would never be the same girl again.
15
Harlow
I was led into the room by two women. They were both wearing pretty dresses, but I was completely naked, and my body was shivering.
Ellis approached me with an impersonal smile and my soul wept at what they were about to do to me.
He took my hand and I considered my last chance to escape. I could get away now. I could still run as fast as I possibly could, and maybe prevent them from taking this away from me. I looked over my shoulder at the large door. Someone had left it ajar, as if they were toying with me, forcing me to land in the bad cell one more time. I tugged at Ellis’s arm, but he didn’t let go. I watched the door get farther and farther away from me.
“Bend,” Ellis told me, and I let him strap me over the contraption that held my ass up and my arms down on the other side. I was frozen, unable to move more than an inch with the shackles cutting into my skin. I’d never been more terrified in my life. He appeared in front of me then, raising a black lace blindfold in front of my eyes. It was reinforced in rich black satin, and when he put it over my eyes, it was impossible to see a thing.
I felt myself gasp and never exhale. Every nerve ending in my body was on high alert, waiting for the first touch to my feverish skin, and I realized with great shame that once again I was wet for him. For this.
Seconds dragged by and turned into minutes, the room the perfect temperature and lulling me into a false sense of security. Without a single whisper of a noise, I suddenly felt someone in the room with me.
I gasped at the sudden touch of fingertips to my back, running down my shoulder blades to my ass. I whimpered, letting out a little sob as lips touched my skin, kissing gently like I never knew Ellis could.
No words. He didn’t say anything as he kissed a line down my neck, and I whispered soft pleases under my breath. I wasn’t sure what I was begging for anymore. Maybe it was for him to stop, maybe it was to let me go. Or maybe it was so he wouldn’t stop, so he’d finally get it over with. Maybe I wanted him to make me come, just by stroking and kissing me like that.
His touch was electric, and my body responded more desperately than a whore’s.
“Oh God,” I muttered under my breath, panic setting in, making my heartrate rocket. “Please don’t, please don’t do it, please don’t hurt me, don’t let this happen.”
He placed a finger against my lips and I cried out when I felt his lips on my ears, on my cheeks, moving to my mouth. He moved my head to the side and kissed me deeply.
His mouth was demanding, but kind. He took from me as much as he gave, and I melted into his kiss, desperate to grab his cheeks and pull him closer. I needed this reassurance, needed him to be gentle to me before he took me. I craved his touch almost as badly as I hoped he would stop.
But he wasn’t about to.
I felt him moving lower, one hand on the small of my back while the other one reached between my legs as if it was the easiest thing in the world. He rubbed his palm against my pussy and I arched my back, desperately clenching to keep him there. He laughed, low and soft, spanking my ass with his other hand lightly. It made me giggle, too.
Soon, there was nothing to laugh about because my pussy was wetting his hand and I was moaning at the feeling of his fingers parting me open. He held me exposed like that and slapped my open cunt. It made me cry out in protest. I could feel him shaking. At least he was aware of the significance of what he was about to do.
The cool air on my cunt didn’t help me focus. There was only one thought echoing in my mind, alerting me to its presence with flashing red lights.
I wanted him to do this.
I wanted him to fuck me.
I wanted his fingers, tongue and his cock inside me.
And he knew it, chuckling at my sudden gasps when I realized it myself. He didn’t say a word and hearing my own slipping from my lips made me blush and feel obscene.
Fingers raked through my hair and his thumb toyed lazily with my clit. I cried out in frustration, and he still hadn’t said a word. I was getting needy, my legs shaking in their shackles and my pussy leaking all over him.
“Please just fuck me,” I blurted. “I can’t take it. Just do it. I want it to be over. I need it. Please.”
A warm hand smothered my mouth. I licked it eagerly.
And then he was between my legs, the same hand opening me up again. I felt like a whore. I was a whore. For that man, I would have done anything. It made me want to sob.
I felt his cock there next, slippery as he rubbed it over me. And then, just like that, he opened me wide for the very first time.
I cried out at the sensation. My pussy breaking open, ready for him to do anything he wanted to me. I mewled at the sting as he stretched me open, and he let out a low growl as his cock filled me. He was hard, so hard I wondered if he was using a toy instead of the real thing, but the second he thrust deeper and my whole body shuddered, I knew it was him from the way his cock throbbed for me. It was intense, crazy, amazing, all rolled up into one confusing experience I couldn’t get enough of. I wanted more, and my body twisted in a desperate effort to give him more, to accommodate his width and girth, to give him more of myself.
Greedy fingers lingered over my body, reaching between my legs as he fucked me. I started crying, not because I didn’t want it, but because it felt so good and I hated him for it as much as I hated myself. He didn’t stop, not for one second. His fingers touched my clit, brushing against it gently as his cock pummeled me. It would have brought me to my knees had I not been strapped in like a whore, and I craved so much more of it. I was eager, as eager as I’d never been with Ellis before, and I couldn’t get enough of him.
There were no words needed as he claimed my body, fucking and taking from me as much as he gave me, the orgasm building between my legs into heights I didn’t even know existed. It was coming from inside me, something eager and needy building in my sore cunt, so ready to release on him, to beg him to keep going, yet my mouth remained firmly shut, my moans escaping softly through my closed lips.
He reached in front of me with his free hand and forcibly parted my lips, making me open my mouth. The second he did, my moans grew louder and more intense, and I started begging like the whore truly I was.
“Please,” I whispered. “I need more, don’t stop, Sir. I need you to keep going.”
For a second, I was convinced he’d tell me to call him Ellis, but no such instruction came, and he kept fucking, making me into his obedient little toy that would do anything for the shot of cream I knew he was going to put deep inside me. I couldn’t wait. My pussy massaged him in a way I didn’t know was possible, and I clenched at his cock and the new sensation of being filled up to the brim. I wanted, needed so much more, but there was no sign of him giving up anytime soon.
I wanted him to talk to me, and when he didn’t, soft little moans left my lips and I felt like a spoiled brat because he’d gotten me addicted to those dirty words, whispered in my ear and promising things so filthy I couldn’t even think of them myself. I needed him to speak, needed to hear his voice to pull me over the edge, whatever that was… I’d had orgasms before, but nothing like this. Building up to a crescendo that threatened to be so intense it would just make my whole body implode.
“I need more, Sir,” I said again, losing my shyness, losing any trace of the girl I used to be. “I need you to fuck me harder, I need you to be rough, I need you to hurt me, Sir.”
He growled and it got me going. I rubbed my filled-up pussy against the contraption I was strapped to, and he fucked harder, his fingers forcing their way into my mouth. It felt like he was holding back, and I wanted to hate him for it, but a part of me was grateful that he was going easy on me. It was my first time. I hadn’t wanted this until I felt his presence in the room, his cock rubbing against my swollen pussy. Now, there was nothing else I wished for. Just him and me, being fucked like a whore, treated like a toy. I would have done anything for more of it.
He felt different than the man I knew him to be. More in control. I liked it.
His hand went up to my stomach, away from my clit, and I cried out in protest. And then he was touching my tits, and I felt my own juices being spread over my nipples, making me cry out for more. He tweaked my nipples into hard points, and I ground my hips against him, hoping for more. I felt him move his hand away and I protested loudly at the loss of his touch. And then he hit me, right on my tits, hard slaps meant to hurt me, meant to get me off.
“Stop,” I let out in a whisper, shocked at what he was doing. “Don’t…”
He hit me again, harder this time. My nipples were painfully hard, painfully ready for more. The knowledge of how desperate I was for the pain made me lose the color in my cheeks. It was embarrassing. So fucking embarrassing what he was capable of doing to my body. I wanted to hate him so much, but I couldn’t help the way my body responded to his roughness.
“Stop…” I begged, yet my body arched so he’d have easier access. “No more.”
He slapped and twisted and pinched me into an orgasm. I couldn’t stop myself, barely realizing he’d pulled out his cock and was now paying close attention to my tits instead. He kept hitting, pinching. I felt him bite down on my nipple and my consciousness exploded into fireworks set against a dark, inky night. I came like I never had from his torture, my legs shaking uselessly against their shackles, my pussy gushing as he held his palm in place, spreading my own wetness back over me.
And while I was still coming, he entered me again, thrusting his cock into my trembling cunt and forcing another orgasm out of me. This time, it made him come as well.
I felt him leaking inside me and then spurting helplessly as he grabbed my hair and held my head back, his lips next to my ear. He finished with a final hard thrust inside me and I cried openly because I wanted so much more.
“Mine,” he growled possessively, making me nod in an effort to confirm his words.
“Yours,” I whispered. “I promise, yours…”
His cock slipped out of me and my pussy leaked cum all over the floor. I could hear it splattering. I was still out of breath, still trying to calm down when his hands and his lips moved away from me. And I knew I was alone a minute later, my ragged breaths the only sound in the cool, quiet room.
16
Thorn
I couldn’t get her out of my head, my hands and off my cock. She was stuck to me like a drug running through my veins, like a cocktail of adrenaline and lust pumping into my heart.
The feel of her, the taste of her, the scent of her… all served to drive me absolutely fucking crazy when I touched her prickled skin. She was a wild animal, her hips bucking against the restraints, and I was the hunter, desperate to grab her, hold her down, fuck her like the little whore I’d had her made into for my pleasure only. I didn’t give a shit about what she wanted. Her desires and hopes didn’t matter to me.
All she was to me was a girl, a girl I’d just fucked into a woman.
She was the woman I was going to fuck, breed and train for the rest of my life. Between her legs, I found what I’d been looking for, and entranced by her mouth and the words that spilled from her lips I fell in love with her innocence, her frailty and her fierceness all at once.
I had to force myself to pull back and walk away from her. It felt like I was losing a fucking limb to walk out of that room, my cock still hard and wet from her. I hadn’t expected it. The connection, the crazy feeling she gave me like I was drugged on something and like I’d finally found every single thing I’d been looking for my whole miserable life. Something Pia had never given me, a spark dozens of girls had failed to ignite.
It was all inside her, at the touch of my fingertips, on the tip of my cock.
And yet I walked away from it, walked away from her. Every step I took away from her strapped
-down body felt like a betrayal. Not to the little slut, but to my conscience, to myself. Knowing I was walking away from the best thing that had ever happened to me felt fucking painful.
Pia was next to me in seconds, the last person I wanted to see. She was smirking, looking glorious in a Grecian white dress that draped off her shoulders. She handed me a towel, the smile she wore cutting through me like a knife.
“He got her ready for you good, didn’t he?” she asked innocently, and I wanted to slap her like I used to.
If her smile cut deep, then her words sliced right through me. Bitter venom spilled from my veins as I grabbed the towel away, wiping my cock with it and tossing it at her feet. She bent down to pick it up, but I didn’t give a shit, I needed to get farther away, into the REC room where I could fucking stare at my girl without being disturbed.
I half-fell, half-walked into the room and slammed the door behind me. I grabbed a robe off the hook and closed it in front of my body, watching my rose on the screen. I wanted to kill the bastard who went in next.
But it was a woman, a pretty little thing I remembered from the mansion because she’d sucked my dick about a year ago. She hadn’t been amazing then, but now, she was fucking glorious. She cleaned Harlow good, licking and biting at her pussy to get everything out, and I felt my cock growing harder as I watched them play, Harlow’s body succumbing to the other woman’s tongue as she came in those shackles again and again.
I was a mess. I felt hot and cold at the same time, my head fucking spinning as I watched her on the screen. She’d fucking destroyed me. That dirty mouth, that sweet pussy and those little fingers gripping the shackles she was holding onto. It all drove me crazy, and I knew what I’d done to her had been a mistake.
I should never have taken her.
I should never have put her through this.
I shouldn’t have forced her into being submissive.
