“If you need tying in position, you’ll regret it.”
I managed a nod.
“Show the clients those pretty eyes. So many people ready to enjoy your pain, can you feel them?”
Another nod, but this time it wasn’t enough. He twisted my nipple so hard I whimpered, then stuttered out the words.
“Yes… y-yes, sir. I can feel them.”
“Tell them, dirty little girl. Tell them you’re ready to hurt for them.”
But it wasn’t them.
It wasn’t them I was ready to hurt for.
It was him.
He was the one I was ready to hurt for. That I wanted to hurt for.
I could feel the swell of him through his suit trousers, ridged against my ass. I wanted him inside there. Wanted him to be the first to fuck my ass like a hungry little whore who could take it.
“I’m ready, sir,” I said, being sure to keep my eyes on the camera ahead of me. “I’m ready to hurt for them.”
His palm mashed my tit to my ribs and ground tight. His grip was painful, tugging so hard my flesh burned.
“Tell them you want to hurt for them.”
“I want to hurt for them, sir.”
“Such grime all over you from that filthy fucking alleyway. I hope you realise how much this suits a dirty little slut.” He paused. “That’s what you are now, little girl. A dirty little slut. A pitiful, cheap, dirty little slut. All for the cameras. All for me.”
For him.
His slap was hard on my thigh. I wobbled but didn’t loosen my grip behind his neck. The next was harder. The one after that made me cry out.
“Show them that pretty little cunt,” he growled, and I did. I shifted my knees as wide as my position allowed, caring nothing for the way his fingers splayed me and tugged at my pussy lips.
I could imagine the cameras zooming. Could imagine the onlookers staring at the most private parts of me and passing judgement. Exposed. I was so filthily exposed.
Maybe I was pretty enough. Dirty enough. Cheap enough.
Maybe I was good enough. Could be good enough.
Maybe I was more of a slut than Rebecca Lane and it would be enough for them to enjoy me. Enough to want more.
Maybe their enjoyment would please him. The god at my back.
My god.
The one I wanted to please, even though I knew I was crazy. More than crazy.
His voice was a whisper in my ear. His breath hot.
“So it begins.”
And so it did. I focused on the pain in my nipples as he pulled and twisted and made me whimper. I focused on the pulse of my clit between my thighs as he addressed the audience on the other end of the cameras and told them how I was going to be their dirty pleasure for sixty days. Their dirty, slutty, begging little slut promising to take their cum however they were willing to give it. Take their pain however they wanted to dish it out to me.
His voice was vile satin. His words were foul and made my heart pound through my ribs.
His touch was hurt. So much hurt. Lashing my inner thighs with heavy palms. Pinching my clit until I shivered. Crushing my tits so hard I gulped in breath.
Slapping me, over and over. Hard. Hard enough that my cries out came free and wild.
But I didn’t lower my arms, not for anything. They stayed locked behind his neck, my stance secure no matter what.
My eyes watered as he twisted my clit in his fingers. I pressed my back to his chest, an anchor in the storm as he hooked three fingers between my legs and plunged them deep.
It felt better than it should.
I wanted it more than I should.
“I love the smell of filth on such a pretty little body,” he said, and his laugh was low. “Grimy little whores need to beg for cleanliness. If you beg nicely, maybe you’ll get your reward later.”
I couldn’t beg. Couldn’t do anything but whimper and writhe.
“Enjoy her pain,” he said to the cameras, and I moaned as his fingers pulled out of me.
It was quick. Quick enough that I choked as those same fingers thrust between my parted lips and slammed to the back of my throat. Finally I lost my grip behind his neck, instinct bringing my hands forward to grip at his wrists.
His response was lightning fast. His hands wrapped around my throat and slammed me flat to the mattress in one movement. I struggled for a heartbeat before his knee pinned my wrists taut above my head and his palm rained slaps down my torso hard enough that I cursed and cried and wriggled.
“Spread your dirty fucking thighs,” he snapped and I tried. The seconds were long as I strained to spread them wide.
The seconds it took before he slapped my aching pussy weren’t nearly long enough. My eyes watered and spilled, my breaths in grunts as I fought to submit to him.