by Sansa Rayne
“Hey!” I screamed, twisting so violently I nearly kicked him in the face. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“You’ve got a rockin’ ass. How much?” he asked, staring at my tight hole.
“How much you got?” I said, mortified that the question has become ingrained. I could have said no. Yet, I’ve almost made a game out of seeing how much money I can bilk out of these men. After all, if they’ll pay more, then I’m worth more, right? Isn’t that how it works?
“How’s an extra fifty sound?” he asked, reaching for his pants.
“Make it a hundred.”
He laughed and fished out the extra bill. “Deal.”
I nod to Pierce slowly, blushing. It had hurt, but the man finished quickly. The lasting memory is more painful than the physical discomfort ever was.
Please, Pierce, I think to myself, willing him to erase that memory and replace it with one of the two of us. He rams his cock right into me; I don’t care. Pain or pleasure, as long as I only ever think of Pierce and not the strangers I met back in those days.
His tip presses against my tight entrance, applying a low, steady pressure. “Relax, pet,” he says. “You’re fighting it.”
Groaning through the gag, I force myself to let go and open up.
“That’s better.”
I wince at the sharp, hot jolts as his cock begins to penetrate. His rod feels impossibly large in my ass, and as I look up to the camera, I wish he’d placed another one behind me. Though I can see my pained expression and the sweat dripping down my forehead, I want to see his hardness plunging into me.
Patient and gentle, he withdraws from my rear for a bit, then begins to drive in again. He repeats the process over and over, each time going in a little faster and deeper. On the monitor, I see his rippling chest as he thrusts with his entire body. I can’t see his face, but his grunts and sudden exhalations tell me he’s enjoying himself.
Soon, I start to sigh as the pain is replaced by waves of euphoria. Feeling incredibly full, I squeeze down on Pierce’s steely shaft,
“God, you’re tight,” he grunts.
Then he begins to pound deeply, his rhythm fast and untiring. I strain at my bonds, enjoying their unbreakable grip. Flexing my fingers and toes is all I can do.
Maybe Pierces senses how much I’m relishing my bound, punished state, or perhaps he merely feels an instinct; either way, he smacks my ass with his open palm, sending a delectable sting through my body. His cock twinges inside me when he hears my carnal mewl.
“Would you like me… to spank you again… Sibel?”
“Mmm!” I beg.
He chuckles, then keeps swatting my bottom, again and again. He uses both hands, and soon my ass throbs. When the spanking ends, he starts plunging his cock into my tortured hole even harder. Listening to the slurping noise with each thrust, I want to orgasm so badly, and start humming incessantly at Pierce.
“Mmm! Mmm!”
“Are you… going to… come?” he asks.
Wailing through the gag, I nod my head, flicking off the joyful tears trailing down my cheeks.
“Okay, Sibel. You can come.”
Grateful and relieved, I scream as my bliss erupts. Pierce hammers faster and faster, and soon his howls answer mine. My first orgasm electrifies my whole body in moments, and though it’s over quickly, another one begins growing right away.
Pierce’s fingers probe their way toward my clit, and then he’s rubbing it in time with his thrusts. I babble incoherently through the gag, heaving against the ropes. The sensation is utterly overwhelming, and as my second orgasm reaches a rapid crescendo, I thrash until I can’t feel anything but Pierce’s strong hands and rigid cock playing inside me.
By the time I’m coming up on my fourth orgasm, Pierce pounds at me so fast it feels like one continuous motion. He pulls my hair back so I can see the video of myself, for which I’ll never thank him deeply enough — I don’t even have the strength left to hold up my head.
Then, as that orgasm explodes my mind into pieces, I feel a surge of heat inside me, and Pierce groans in pure satisfaction. He keeps holding my hair so I can watch as our bodies slow their rhythm, eventually coming to a stop, and then he lets go.
—
I don’t know if I pass out, or if I’m just too high on ecstasy to really be conscious in the moment, but when I regain my composure, I’ve been untied and am laying next to Pierce on the bed. The bed is wet and warm from our sex, and as soon as I can feel my legs again, I want to take a shower.
From my ass, an incredible throb brings me echoes of pain and pleasure that I hope never goes away. On my skin, I can see pink imprints of the ropes like braids around my wrists and thighs. I tingle all over, except in my head, which feels clear.
“You’re amazing, Sibel,” he says, seeing that I’m back. “Whatever it takes to make a relationship work, I’ll do it.”
I smile and nod, reaching for his hand. “Me too. Where do we start?”
He closes his fingers around mine. “Wherever you like.”
I think about it for a minute. We should tell some people, right?
“Would you meet Steph, my best friend?” I ask. “Technically, you’ve e-mailed before, but I mean for real.”
“I’d be happy to,” he says, kissing my hand. “She manages your site and stuff?”
“Yeah. She’s really awesome about it. She’s taking the bar in July, but still finds time to help me. I couldn’t ask for a better friend.”
“Then it’ll be my pleasure. I want to meet the people who are important to you. I know it won’t be easy for some of them…”
I laugh, reaching over to ruffle Pierce’s hair. “Steph knows all about you. It’s my parents I’m worried about.”
Pierce chuckles. “I’ll lay on the charm so thick they’ll like me more than they like each other.”
Rolling over until I’m snuggled up against him, I sigh and look into his eyes. “I bet you could do that.”
He kisses my forehead. “I’ll do my best.”
I look over to the camcorder; it’s hard to tell from my angle, but I think it’s still recording. Lifting an arm until I see my hand come into frame confirms that it is.
“What about your friend, Chase? Can I meet him?”
Something about the question sends a shiver through Pierce, and it catches on, chilling me too.
“I don’t know, Sibel. He’s…”
“What?”
He pauses for long enough to make it awkward. “I’m worried that he’s going to be jealous of us.”
For a moment I start to laugh, but when I turn to Pierce, his expression is enough to cut it off. “Sorry,” I say. “Won’t he be happy you’ve found someone?”
“I don’t know. You can meet him, but for now, could you pretend we’re not sleeping together yet? He’s going to have to find out eventually, but I need more time to figure this out.”
Figure what out? What’s going on with this Chase guy? Pierce’s tone is giving me a bad feeling, but… I trust him. Isn’t that enough, at least for now?
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll do it.”
“Dinner?” Chase asks, the word coming out almost like a hoot. “Is this a fucking joke?”
He’s lying on the couch in our apartment, wearing a fluffy, white bathrobe; he hasn’t tied it off, and if I look down at all, I’ll see his cock. He doesn’t care. Though he woke less than twenty minutes ago, it’s already well past noon.
“It’s not a joke. She’s agreed to meet. Are you in or not?”
Chase sits up and reaches for a whiskey tumbler resting on the arm of the couch. “What’s the point? If I’m not supposed to talk about us fucking, what do I get out of it? It sounds like a huge goddamn cock tease.”
In fairness, that’s exactly what it will be — for him, anyway. “What do you get? What you get is a chance to earn points — to show her that you’re actually a nice guy.”
“Points?” he says, downing his drink. “Fuck off, Pierce.�
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I sigh, holding up my hands in defeat. “What do you want from me? I can’t order her to fuck you.”
Not that I would.
Chase gets up and makes for the liquor cabinet. “I’ll go, Pierce, but be honest: am I really going to get Sibel at some point, or not? I’ve been patient. I do what you say to do. Am I wasting my time?”
I turn away and shut my eyes, which probably tells him all he needs to know. All the lies are weighing on me; I’m sick of telling them. “I think you should start considering that it might not happen,” I say, pivoting so I can look him in the eyes.
He stares, the corner of his lip arching. “This is some fucking bullshit.”
“I’m not saying it won’t ever happen, but-”
“Yes, you are,” Chase interjects. “Don’t pussyfoot with me. If you were capable of convincing Sibel, you’d have done it by now.”
“She’s going to make her own decisions,” I snap, grabbing his bathrobe and pulling him in close. “You need to accept that if this happens, it’s going to take a while. Why is that so hard for you to understand?”
“Because it’s never been a fucking problem before!” Chase growls, pushing away from me. “Every single fucking cunt you’ve wanted for the site, you’ve gotten.”
“They were all whores!” I shout. “Strippers and cam girls — they were already in the business!”
“And Sibel-”
I should just let him shoot his mouth off, say whatever he’s going to say and keep my cool, but I can’t. “Don’t,” I say, cutting him off. “Call her a whore again, and this is over, Chase.”
His face tightens into a mask of fury. “You wouldn’t. You know what I could do if I don’t get what I need.”
“You fucking piece of shit,” I growl. “You’d use that against me? Really?”
Chase sighs, relenting. “Sorry. I guess that was fucking low.”
“It was,” I say, softening. “Listen, okay? Sibel will never give you a chance if you don’t treat her with respect. That’s how I got her to meet with me in the first place.”
Chase shakes his head. “You made her pussy wet, Pierce. That’s all you did.”
“No, I did that too. But you won’t, not if you treat her like shit. I fucking guarantee you that.”
Backing away, Chase lets himself fall onto the couch. This time, he knows I’m right.
“Come to the dinner and try not to act like a total asshole. If she likes you, maybe she’ll want to use you in some kind of art show. It’s not impossible.”
Though I’m bluffing, I speak as though I really believe it. Who knows what she’ll want in the future? Is it possible she would want us both? Would she find it a turn on to be taken by two men at once, to watch herself being used at both ends? I honestly don’t know.
“It’s the only way,” I conclude. “She has to meet you first, or nothing will ever happen.”
Chase leans over the couch and spits on the carpet. “Fine,” he says. “But I want you to know something.”
“Okay.” I fold my arms across my chest, not liking his tone.
He sighs. “I’m not fucking blind, Pierce. I know you have a thing for her. You’re probably already fucking her.”
I stare back at him, trying to keep my poker face, and wait for him to continue.
“I give zero fucks about that, Pierce. You can loosen her up for me; I’m sure she’s a fucking hellcat in the sack. Just, don’t forget how this started.”
“That is literally impossible,” I mutter.
He licks his lips and grins. “Good. Because if this doesn’t work, I’m going to tell her everything. Especially the part about why you really contacted her again after the show. I’ll bet she’d like to hear that.”
“That’s fine,” I lie. Knowing I’ll eventually have to explain it to her is a lump in my throat I’ve refused to swallow, but I guess I can’t put it off much longer now.
I’m going to have to tell her the whole truth, too. I’m going to have to tell her about the incident, and soon.
“Okay. So when’s this dinner?” Chase asks.
Absentmindedly, I explain that Sibel wants us to meet her friend Steph, and is trying to set up a good date. “I’ll let you know what they decide.”
Chase nods, rising from the couch. “Fine. I’ll be there.”
“Good,” I say. “Now go get dressed. We’re working tonight.”
—
For the next five nights in a row, Chase and I film a new video, using a different model and a different location each time. We don’t normally work this much, but I’ll book us a shoot every night for a month if I have to. I want to keep Chase busy and satisfied enough that he won’t show up at this dinner half-cocked and liable to pounce on Sibel. Fortunately, it only takes five days for Sibel to cajole Steph into meeting us.
We meet at Lucien in the East Village, a cozy bistro that gets somewhat loud, which tonight I prefer: if Chase should say something off-color, I’d rather it be drowned out than be overheard by an entire eatery.
We both wear suits, and we look pretty good, even though Chase doesn’t bother shaving. I don’t press the matter — the look feels right for him anyway. He reminds me of an aged rock star, or maybe a former professional athlete who never felt like he had to dress to impress.
Sibel and Steph are seated when we arrive, but stand when they see us. Sibel’s dressed in white, mid-rise skinny ankle jeans and a sapphire, long-sleeve pleated blouse — a more modest look from her than I’m used to seeing, but fitting for the occasion. Steph, in comparison, wears a sleeveless, charcoal mock neck dress. Her long, dark locks wave with every movement, and light reflects off the gloss on her thin lips. She smiles, jaw hanging slightly, and I think there’s a slight glow of sweat on her forehead.
She’s nervous, I realize.
“Good evening,” I say as we reach the table, holding out my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Steph.”
“You too,” she says, shaking my hand with a firm grip.
To my surprise, Sibel greets Chase with open arms, inviting a hug.
“Pierce told me about how you met, and what you did for him,” she says. “He’s lucky to have such a good friend.”
“Thanks, I tell him that all the time,” he jokes, leaning forward to return the hug. He inhales her fruity perfume, then lets go. “It’s great to meet you. I really liked your show at the gallery.”
“You did?” she asks, blushing as she takes her seat.
“Yeah.” He shakes Steph’s hand too, barely acknowledging her before turning back to Sibel. “You’re very talented.”
Oh, here we go.
Steph clears her throat. “You’re pretty s-skilled too,” she says to Chase.
He laughs. “Thanks. Years of practice, you know.”
Jesus Christ.
“Steph, I hear you’re studying for the bar,” I cut in. “What kind of law are you looking to get into?”
She nods and turns to me, her eyes moving across what she can see of my body before finding their way back up. “Free speech protections,” she says with another throat clear. “Working with Sibel, I see how much work there is to do for it.”
Don’t I know it. “That’s a very noble pursuit.”
“Thanks. And… I mean… I’ve thought about making art of my own. You know? Like- like Sibel’s.”
I can’t help chuckling. “Yeah, her work definitely inspires others.”
“Nice, Pierce,” Sibel mutters.
“I meant it seriously,” I say, nodding to a young, hurried-looking waitress as she fills our water glasses.
Sibel rolls her eyes and turns to Chase. “Pierce tells me you’ve been friends for twenty years.”
He nods. “Yeah. Only feels like half that, though.” He looks down and opens a menu.
“What do you mean?” Steph asks.
Chase offers a toothy smile, letting his tongue slip out. “Twenty years, minus the ones where I wasn’t around, if you know what I mean.”
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His prison stint. Sibel is aware of it, but I’m not sure about Steph.
“Woulda been a lot longer, if not for my lawyer,” Chase continues. “People talk shit about lawyers, but they’ve done right by me. So, thanks,” he tells Steph.
“You’re welcome,” she mumbles, looking down into her menu.
The waitress swings back and asks if we’re ready to order. The women quickly look through the menu, their eyes bulging at the prices. I told Sibel beforehand that this is on me, but that doesn’t stop them both from blanching a little.
Under the table, I tap Sibel’s shoe. When she looks up, I wink and smile.
“Filet mignon au poivre,” I say, handing over my menu to the waitress.
Sibel grins. “The squab, please.”
Steph exhales. “I’d like… the rabbit,” she says. “I’ve never had that.”
“Good choice,” I say, setting my chin down on my fist.
Chase hums to himself, scanning his menu. “Fuck it. I’ll have the lobster.”
The waitress nods.
“Also, some foie gras for the table,” I add. “And a bottle of Cabernet.”
She leaves with our order, creating an uneasy quiet. Yet, Sibel’s smirking, and I catch it too. If I hadn’t been so worried about Chase, I’d feel really good about this dinner — it’s like he’s a normal person, out celebrating his favorite people.
“Chase, what else do you do, when you’re not working with Pierce?” Steph asks.
He grunts a laugh. “Staying out of trouble. It’s a full-time job.”
The women giggle at that, and I can’t help a smile.
That’s putting it mildly.
“I’m serious. I don’t have a lot of interests or friends,” Chase adds. “Just pussy, booze and smokes. If not for Pierce, I’d probably be back in jail.”
“Really?” says Steph.
I shake my head. “He’s exaggerating.”
“But you must enjoy your work,” Steph says.
Sibel slaps her arm. “Steph!”
“What?”
Chase licks his lips. “Oh yeah. I definitely do.”
We all go quiet again when the waitress returns to pour our wine. As soon as the woman departs, Sibel takes a sip. “Oh, that’s really good.”
