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“You’ll take whatever you’re fucking given,” I growled, and slapped the flogger harder between her legs. The threads wrapped up around her mound in the most perfect of fashions, enough that she squealed and tried to close her thighs.

She got nowhere. Those thighs were spread nice and fucking wide for me.

“Oww,” she moaned. “Oww, sir. Oww.”

“I said you’ll take whatever you’re fucking given,” I repeated, then tore the scrap of knickers off her with rough fingers and landed another lash.

This time she responded with a grunt, thighs still straining against the shackles. Her weight was in the cuffs above, arms tight as she held herself. She dropped like a brick against the chains when I landed a third stroke.

I knew it would hurt.

I knew her pussy was already fucking sore from my abuse.

I didn’t give two shits that she was whimpering like a collared little angel when I lined that flogger up for another.

“Take whatever you’re given and shut your mouth,” I said, and my voice was recognisable as me this time.

Detached. Sadistic.

Vile.

She managed a nod. A dainty little nod. And then she tried.

Fuck, how she tried.

I wasn’t kind with the flogger. I landed another two on that tender cunt before I changed position and wrapped the threads hard around those pretty little tits. How her skin pinked up. Strands of beautiful blotches with the occasional prick of blood at the end, and she took it. She held her breath and screwed her eyes tight closed and took everything she could from me.

It was only when I was catching the flogger on the most delicate spots on her ribcage that she lost her fight and let out some whimpers.

I walked right up to her in her bonds and pinched her cheeks tight, being sure not to interfere with the clear camera shots.

“Quiet,” I snarled. “Good girls are always quiet.”

And then there were tears. Soft tears as her eyes met with mine, and I felt them. Oh fuck, how I felt them.

I loved and fucking hated them both at once. Wanted more of them with my swollen cock and less of them with my poor excuse for a sympathetic fucking heart both at once.

My cock fucking won.

I hit her over and over. I ripped that scrap of lacy babydoll from her body and beat her with savage swipes across the full front of her. She was a fine sight in nothing but stockings. Her ribs were prominent under her tits, begging for a beating. Her stomach was flat, concave as the muscles strained tightly down to her cunt.

A cunt that was a beautiful mess of pink swipes. Her thighs were a perfect addition to the canvas.

And so was her pretty face.

Tears streaked down her cheeks. She was flushed. Eyes wide and wild as they struggled to focus on the cameras.

How I wished she was focused on me.

“Let’s see how wet that tight little cunt is now,” I snarled, and ploughed three fingers straight inside. “Tell me, slut, still want the pain?”

She murmured. I pushed those fingers in deep.

“Speak,” I said. “Good sluts answer when they’re spoken to.”

“Yes…” she whispered. “Yes, I still want it, sir.”

Once again, that wasn’t the answer I was expecting. Not after such a brutal second performance.

“You want more pain?” I asked, and my voice was gravelly.

She managed a nod. “Yes, sir… I’ll never ask you to stop… never…”

I pulled my fingers from her cunt and slammed them in her open mouth. “Taste yourself. Cunt tastes hungry for more, does it?”

She licked me. Swirled her tongue around my juicy fingers.

I knew the clients would love the slutty want in her eyes, at odds with such pure fucking innocence in the rest of her.

She gasped as I pulled away from her mouth, lips straining to keep hold of me.

“Yes, sir…” she managed without prompting. “Yes, sir, I taste hungry for more… I taste hungry for you, sir…”

That’s when I noticed it. The natural submissive glint in her gaze. The faraway desperation as her limbs loosened in her binds and she zoned into the headspace of true subservience.

“I taste hungry… for you, sir…” she said again, and this time her words were pointed. She turned her face from the cameras and her eyes crashed into mine. “Please, sir… for you…”

And that’s when I couldn’t fight it. Not any longer. Not for a single fucking breath in that seedy fucking room.

There was no denying it. No way in fucking hell.

I slammed my lips to that hungry mouth of hers, and dug my tongue in deep.

Deep enough that she’d know for certain I tasted fucking hungry for her, too.Chapter TwentyPaigeHe wanted me.

I hadn’t expected it in that room, not for a second. He’d been so hard. So powerful. So cold.

He’d treated me like I was just another girl on his payroll. A nobody. A slut in a dirty outfit, ready for the cameras. But his kiss was something more. Something so much more.


Tags: Jade West Sixty Days Erotic