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My eyes beg his, but his say it all. He knows it, too. He knows she’s lying. I wait for his protestation, but it doesn’t arrive.
“Good effort,” he says. “But effort isn’t enough, Magpie. Rules are rules, and they are there to challenge and sculpt us.”
“No,” I whisper. “Please.”
My words infuriate him and his eyes turn cold. “Know your place, pretty bird,” he snaps. “Don’t I treat you kindly? Didn’t I give you a chance? You will be a good loser, and you will congratulate Cynthia.”
“Congratulations.” My words are weak and numb.
“Such a beautiful big cock,” she groans. “Look at me, little slut, you will enjoy watching this.”
Tears fall, and I don’t care. It hurts so fucking bad that I’m beyond giving a shit.
“Why are you crying?” Vincent asks, but I have no answer for him. “Magpie, why are you crying?”
I shake my head. “I’m sad.”
“Why are you sad? What do you have to be sad about? You had a test and you failed. Be happy and grateful that you were given the opportunity.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Now, watch Cynthia’s pretty cunt milk my dick. She feels so good, you know.”
I force my eyes onto them, and more tears spill as I watch her mount his lap. She moans like a whore as she lowers herself, arching her back against his chest and wriggling her hips. “Yes, fuck, sir, you feel so fucking big inside me.” He kisses her neck and watches me over her shoulder, and it’s too much. I writhe in frustration, trying to turn away.
“No,” he snaps. “Jealousy has no place in our lives, Magpie, you know this.”
Oh God, oh fuck. Jealousy fucking burns. I have to force my eyes back, and my mouth curls upwards. “Yes, Vincent, Master. I know.”
“Ask me to kiss her, ask me to touch her beautiful ripe tits, ask me to squeeze them, love them. Ask me to make her come.”
My stomach is on fire. “Please, Vincent, Master, please do all those things.”
“Say them, pretty bird.”
My breath is ragged. “Please kiss her.”
“And?”
“Please touch her beautiful tits, Vincent, please touch them. Squeeze them.”
“And?”
“Love her, Master, make her come.”
She’s riding him hard now, the slap of her flesh against his makes me feel sick. I can see his balls bouncing up against her ass, his cock slick with her juices, her dirty cunt sucking outwards like an elasticated sock. God how I hate her. “Beg me, pretty bird. Beg!”
“Please, Master!” I cry. “Please love her, please, please kiss her pretty mouth, please squeeze her beautiful tits! Please!”
“Good girl. Fuck, her cunt feels so tight, Magpie. She almost makes me happy you failed.” His laughter cuts deep, and I’m lost. Silent tears stream, and my spirit is broken. I listen to the noises, soak in the expression on his face, on her face, the glee as his tongue finds her mouth. She flicks hers back at his, her eyes on mine. How she fucking rides him, she rides him like he’s hers, and he lets her. He wants it. Bastard.
He comes inside her, bucking and hissing and grabbing at her hair, and she comes too, squealing like a pig and gripping her hands to her bouncing fucking tits. She dismounts, and his cream spills out of her. She smiles at me. “My gift,” she says, scooping it from her filthy cunt with a finger. She sucks it off. “I’m so lucky. Don’t worry, slut, you’ll get what’s owed.”
“Please, Master,” I say. “I am not worthy, I need no gift.”
“On the contrary,” he replies. “You are very worthy of this gift, pretty bird. I can’t wait to see you receive it.” He gestures Cynthia to the back wall, and my insides twist at the prospect of what she will choose.
“This one,” she says, but I don’t look around. Vincent nods his approval, and I wait for it. I wait. But even I don’t expect what comes.
