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“Christ, she’s so fucking hot,” Robert moaned, aroused as much by the girl’s obvious terror as by what he was doing to her. He wanted to make it last, but it felt too fucking good. Within minutes, he groaned with primal pleasure as he came inside her.

When he could catch his breath, he pulled out and wiped away the goo. Leaning down, he spread Jane’s little ass cheeks and examined the still-gaping hole. “All right, froggy,” he said, giving her a playful smack. “You did good for your first time. You’re not bleeding or anything.”

Brenda let the girl go. She at once fell to her side and curled into a fetal ball.

Brenda looked up at Robert with sparkling eyes. She ran a sexy tongue over her lower lip. In spite of his recent orgasm, a rush of desire jolted through Robert’s loins.

“Got any left for me, stud?” his wife asked with a coquettish grin. Her large, lovely nipples were pressing hard against her tank top.

Robert grinned back at her. “You know it, babe.”

Brenda got to her feet. “Put her back in the cage. Then come upstairs with me to the bedroom and work your magic, macho man.”

Robert scrambled to his feet. Though he doubted he’d be ready to fuck Brenda for a while, he knew just how to please her with his hands and mouth. He was so fucking turned on by having a new toy to play with that he’d definitely be ready to go again within the hour.

He lifted the girl, who lay limp and passive, and settled her back into her cage. He removed the ball gag and wiped at the drool on her chin as she stared at him with a dazed expression. He pointed to the water bottle. “Just suck on that if you’re thirsty. Be a good girl and we might give you something to eat later.” He patted her head. “Get some rest, froggy. You’ll need it.”

Chapter 3

Jane lay curled in the cage, drifting in and out of a nightmare-filled doze. The skin on her butt and the backs of her thighs stung and her butthole felt sore and tender. Reaching back, she ran her fingers gingerly along the raised welts on her bottom. Her head was pounding, a bitter taste in her mouth. She was terribly thirsty.

She glanced at the water bottle affixed to the bars, but couldn’t quite bring herself to suck on the metal spout as if she were some kind of pet rodent. Tears rolled down her cheeks, a sob escaping from her lips. How could this have happened? How long would they keep her? She hugged herself and rocked, afraid to think of what was going to happen next in this nightmare.

Their name calling added insult to injury. Did they think they were being original, twisting her surname from Frug to frog? Like she hadn’t endured that kind of crap all through primary and middle school?

The two of them were such a weird, creepy combination of almost-friendly mixed with diabolical, sadistic cruelty. It was like they didn’t see her as a real person. She was some kind of toy for them to play with. They were like children—nasty evil children who would burn ants with a magnifying glass or pluck the wings off butterflies, just for the perverse fun of it. Or squash frogs under their heels to watch them split open, indifferent or, worse, delighted at the suffering they caused.

The overhead lights flicked suddenly on, making Jane gasp. She heard the door at the top of the stairs open and the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Her heart skipped several painful beats as Brenda appeared on the stairs. She was a tall, imposing woman with a strong chin, narrow green eyes, and thick red hair that hung to her shoulders. She had an imperious bearing, nothing like the hunched, defeated woman she’d pretended to be in the supermarket parking lot.

As Brenda reached the bottom of the stairs. Jane closed her eyes, as if by doing so she could make the dreadful woman disappear. She listened with rising fear as Brenda’s footsteps came closer.

“Hey, you. Wake up.”

Reluctantly, Jane opened her eyes.

Brenda was crouched in front of the cage, peering in at her. She wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, you stink, girlfriend.”

Jane stared, too stupefied to be furious.

“How you doing, kiddo?” Brenda continued, her tone suddenly solicitous. “Settling in okay?”

Again, the question was so ridiculous that Jane had no idea how to respond. She continued to stare. The woman was stark, raving mad.

Brenda didn’t seem to mind Jane’s lack of response. She continued, her expression almost kind, “I know it’s a lot to take in, but you’ll acclimate in time. It’s amazing what we can get used to. You’ll see.”

Her tone became more matter-of-fact. “Let’s go over a few household issues. When we give you permission, you’ll pee over that drain there. You can use the newspaper to take a dump. Wrap it up neatly when you’re done and put it in the diaper pail near the stairs.”


Tags: Claire Thompson Romance