AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You know her?”
“As well as you do,” she says. “There’s something inevitable about this.” She pulls on the ring and its hanging charm. “Coincidences pile up and you know what that means? There are forces working beyond us both. And what’s so charming about you, Cassidy, is that you believe it. There aren’t many women who believe these things the way you do. Samantha Clarisse had to simply be taken. For you, your willingness will prevail above all else. There’s hardly any effort for me.”
She runs her hands along my arms, and against my hips. Her lips continue a journey of kisses so tender I mistake her for something kind. That is, until she steps back abruptly and slaps my face.
“No,” I whimper softly. Turning the other cheek, she slaps me again. I look back to watch an evil smirk claim her face. “Please…” I’m pleading, thinking I’m not ready for this.
“Coy, demure, whining, anger, they don’t work here. I will abuse you worse than you did my daughter,” she warns.
She turns away, while I stand waiting, wondering if there is any way I can safely flee this place. But there’s no way out of this, except one. Tasia returns to me with a collar in her hand. She clamps it around my neck, and I feel it close around me tightly, thinking I’ll not be able to breathe.
“You don’t deserve these, bitch,” she says, ripping away the thorn skirt that pricks at my thighs. She unties my arms and tears the bodice piece of beads from my body. It falls where she throws it on the floor, the sound of broken beads clearly distinguishable to us both. I would mourn it if the garment was mine, but it apparently holds no value to her now.
With one rage over, she moves on to the next insult, as if it’s important to beat me down a piece at a time. After redoing the bonds around my arms, she inspects me again, more satisfied with my nakedness.
“Don’t you find it extraordinary that Samantha Clarisse heard my calling? This ring you wear? You remember when she gave it to you.” Tasia pulls at the ring and Miriam’s amulet so hard that I squeal, and she slaps my face again. “No cries, no tears,” she commands. “You remember when?” she demands.
I nod my head.
“Speak, bitch.”
“An afternoon at the beach,” I tell her.
“How ironic. But how perfect too, that I could whisper into her ear, in that cozy shop of horrors where you were so confused and befuddled with yourself. She even got the placement perfect, don’t you think? To match me?”
She makes me look at both our cunts with our matching rings.
She pulls something off the table. “Here, just because you need a little more pain than you’re experiencing.” She hangs another amulet on the cunt ring. It feels like lead, so much heavier than the one Miriam gave me; it pulls one side of my pussy down so that I think the thing will rip the ring out.
I wail loudly.
She slaps my face twice. It burns. “Live with it, Cassidy, make yourself like it. And no cries,” she reminds me, “or I’ll gag you with a six inch dildo down your throat.”
Threat upon threat heaped on me, I stand compliant and stoic, still thinking this is some game that I need to win against her.
“On your knees,” she says, pushing on my shoulders till I’m at her feet, my mouth working hard at her offered clit. She tastes sweet, unlike anything I’ve tasted before, though there’s curious bitterness after I savor each lick. I give her every bit of zeal in me for sucking cunt. Hers, an easy one to accommodate, I’m aroused myself. I churn a bit as I rock back against my legs, but she hates that, and raps her baton against my back—aiming for my buttocks, she misses and hits me across my shoulders where there’s little flesh to protect me.
I forget my own desires and concentrate on her, until she begins to writhe against my face, pressing her pussy into my tongue and mouth, while a jet of hot female cum douses my flushed, slapped cheeks.
Once pleasured, she hardly misses a beat, forcing me down lower still, so I’m made to press my shoulders and tits against the thick carpet. The lower I go, the more my ass is raised in the air, the more my rear cleft opens and exposes my anus. As I expect, she thrusts something wet and thick in past my sphincter till it lodges deep inside.
“Don’t move,” she says, releasing the instrument, I suspect is the same black rod I saw her violate Peach with that first night. The rod hangs heavily in my body, striking an uncomfortable angle that I can’t change, no matter how I shift about. There must be ten inches inside me, the rest, at least ten more, are left outside to weigh my body down.
“The rule is, bitch, I don’t care if your cunt comes. I’m not doing this to satisfy you; I do it to satisfy my need to be cruel. I’ll use you as I please, and if there’s any satisfaction in it at all, you’ll have to find it for yourself. I’d rather like to see you squirm, rubbing your thighs against each other, trying to find an edge. We’ll see how well you fare without the use of your hands. Now climb up on the pallet.”
I raise my head from the musty carpet and see the crude bed she refers to.
“Move,” she scowls, poking me in the side with the baton because I don’t move fast enough. Then she swishes the thing in the air and lets it land on my ass. She strikes again, and it lands on the second rear cheek.
I hold back a howl, fearing what she’ll do if I don’t.
She holds the rod as I move to the pallet: a simple hard mat with a thin cotton cover that’s two feet from the floor and hardly more comfortable. It’s just easier to reach me.
“Keep this in you,” she says wiggling the rod for awhile, “you expel it, I’ll cane your ass until it bleeds.” She jerks my head back as I wait for her on shoulders and knees. Grabbing my hair and tugging severely, she makes me see the flash in her eyes as she pushes the rod deeper.
“Over,” she commands, letting go of both ends of my body.
I can hardly obey her; each small movement is a struggle without my hands free to assist me. Lying against my tied arms is painful, but she’s in no hurry to alleviate my discomfort.
