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He teased at my clit before he slapped me, pleasure before pain, blending together in a cocktail of pure fucking lust.
“How much?” I said. “How much did you read?”
“I didn’t need to,” he snapped. “Topaz handed me over her copy. She’d made some very useful highlights.”
I cringed at the thought. “You wouldn’t understand,” I whispered. “You haven’t been to that place, where you let go of every inhibition you ever had.”
“You’re right on that front,” he said. He disappeared out of view, and I knew what was coming. I heard the rustle of pages, and held my breath.
“‘My shackled magpie looked divine with her legs spread wide and her head propped up so she wouldn’t miss a thing. I opened the door and my guests came inside and formed a line. They fucked her holes, they fucked her pretty mouth, and every one of them came on her face and pushed their fingers down her throat until she was sick over her breasts.’ – Until you were sick? That’s some fucking fucked-up shit, Faye.”
“Like I said, you wouldn’t understand.” My heart was racing, the horrible nest of worms seething in my stomach.
He flicked the page, took a breath, “‘She fingered my dirty ass until cum shot from my prick, then I made her suck her shit-stained fingers clean.’ – I guess that’s that beautiful sex you were telling me about. It sounds fucking delightful, Faye, a real fucking peach.”
“Stop,” I said. “Don’t do this…”
Another page flicked, “‘Shackled into a tub in the centre of the room, sitting there in a little round basin with her mouth gagged open wide while my guests formed a ring around her and soaked her with piss. Oh how she gurgled for me, my pretty bird. My dirty little Magpie.’”
I pulled at my restraints but I couldn’t move, they wouldn’t budge. “Andy, please, don’t. I’m not there now, I’m here.”
“‘Suckling on a filthy old whore’s milky tit, eyelids fluttering in milk-greedy bliss as my guests stroke her pretty face. Such sweet noises she makes. ‘Good little girl… that’s our baby… Daddy Frank is going to love you now.’ Together my guests pull down her frilly cotton panties, and how she cries asDaddyFrank fills her little asshole with his wrinkly fucking meat.’ – Christ, Faye.”
I couldn’t even look at him, burning with humiliation, with lust and twisted fucking need as my clit still fluttered like it had in Vincent’s seedy fucking roleplays. Lust and regret and embarrassment, my skin prickled with all three. “I’m sorry,” I said, and felt the lump in my throat. “Just let me go, I’ll leave, I’ll walk away.”
He slapped my pussy, and the tears sprang.
“You’ll go? Go fucking where, Faye?”
“Anywhere,” I said. “I’ll just go.”
“You’ll run away will you? Turn tail and run because nasty, mean Andy found out all your dirty little secrets?”
Not all of them.
His fingers squeezed my cheeks, gripping my face hard, and he was angry, his eyes were so fucking angry. “Don’t you dare fucking try it. You aren’t going anywhere.”
I turned my face away from him, and let the tears fall. I didn’t even know why I was crying, I didn’t know why it hurt so bad to disappoint him. “Like I said, you wouldn’t understand. You’ll never look at me the same, now.”
“Jesus Christ, Faye, is that what you think? You think this shit changes anything? The only thing it changes is how much I want to ram my fist into that cunt’s twisted fucking face. I’ll tear him apart, Faye, I promise you.”
“He didn’t force me,” I insisted. “I swear he didn’t. I wanted it.”
“Coerced,” he snapped. “Putting it mildly.” He uncuffed my wrists, followed by my ankles, and I pulled my aching limbs up tight to me. “You can like whatever the fuck you like, Faye, we own a fucking sex club, but that guy is a fucking perverted asshole, and I don’t give two fucking shits what you have to say about his beautiful fucking philosophy. The guy’s a cunt.”
“Not always.”
“When it fucking mattered.” He lowered the rail and sat beside me. Solid hands coaxed me towards him, onto my side. “Just pray for his sake he never crosses my fucking path.”
I looked into his eyes and there was a whole playground of emotions there. Anger, and lust, and concern. But not disgust, and not the vaguest glimpse of hatred, not towards me.
It surprised me to see him care. I didn’t think he’d ever care again, not like he used to, not since I’d run away and left him to pick up my shit for three long fucking years. I’d been so stupid, so reckless, and crazy.
“He’s coming,” I admitted. “Vincent’s coming here, for me.”
“He can try it.”
“Hewilltry it,” I said, under my breath. We sat in silence for long moments. “Do you still want me?” I whispered. “Like you did before?”
