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“What will happen to me?” I ask the question, despite the fact I shouldn’t speak unless given permission. Maybe I'm relying too much on the fact he hasn’t struck me.
I’m not punished for my question, though I’m ridiculed by it. His head throws back in an arrogant chuckle that stings more than his palm ever has.
“You will be sold to the highest bidder, and they will become your new master.” He takes a step back to admire my torment.
“It’s what we have been working on for so long,” he whispers, his hand soft as it strokes through my matted hair.
"You must abide with your owner the same way you have me. The only difference will be that he will own every part of you… even this.” His tone turns aggressive, and I gasp when his hand cups between my legs. I still don’t struggle or fight him away. I know better than that.
“This pure little pussy is what makes you worth your fortune.” His teeth dig into his bottom lips as his fingers tense tighter. “And that price is the only thing that’s stopped me from taking it for myself.”
Tears slide over my cheeks as he rubs me through the fabric of my panties. I wish he couldn’t see them. I want to scream, but the cattle prod that's leaning against the wall is a shrill reminder of what the consequences would be. This isn’t the first time my trainer has touched me there, but this is definitely the harshest. The rare times when he’s done it before, he’s always been surprisingly soft, almost as if he wanted me to enjoy him.
During those times, he always seemed so different. Like he knew what he was doing to me was wrong and was afraid of himself. He pushed one of his fingers inside me once, and he enjoyed it so much he came without me even having to touch him. He kissed me on my lips after that, made me promise I would never tell a soul as long as I lived, and in return, he promised not to use his belt on me for a whole week.
I found it strange at the time. I see no one to tell. My trainer is the only proof I have that life beyond the door exists. But now, with this auction approaching and knowing that I will soon belong to another, I understand his need for me to keep his secret.
I have no recollection of how long I’ve been in this room. All my memories start here, and none of them are happy ones. I’ve been educated on how to behave for a master, as well as how to pleasure one. My trainer has punished any natural instincts out of me, he's taught me how to tolerate humiliation and to accept pain. And as much as I hate him, I can’t help wondering what my life will be like without him.
“You should get some sleep,” he whispers, his nose pressing into my cheek as the sharp needle pierces my skin and cool liquid flows into my veins. “Your new master will want you well rested and ready for whatever he has planned for you.” Backing away slowly, he picks up the cattle prod on his way to the door.
“Wait.” I use the little strength I have left to call out, and when he turns back around, I feel the numbness creeping through my blood.
“Please tell me what will happen to me. Will I ever go home?” I may not recall where that is, but I know it’s not here. It can’t be here.
“Home.” He shakes his head at me in amusement.
“Please.” My head feels too heavy for my body now. If I don’t lay myself down soon, I’ll crash onto the floor.
“Your new master will take what he paid for. If he enjoys you, you might be lucky enough for him to want to keep you.”
“And if he doesn’t?” I slide off the chair and crawl toward the blanket and pillow in the corner.
“Then all that time and effort I've put into making you what you are will have been for nothing,” he explains cruelly, watching me struggle across the floor.
“Sweet dreams, Muñequita,” is the last thing I hear before my miserable existence turns to darkness.
I’m too wasted to care that she’s one of the needy ones. Too much blow, combined with far too much alcohol, got me numb. The bitch beneath me scratches her long fake nails into the skin on my back, but I don’t feel any pain. She could draw blood for all I give a fuck. I keep my focus on the headboard, watching it bounce off the wall as I feed the needy pussy. I’m fucking more and more of my cock. When I glance down, she’s looking up at me, her eyes wide and full. She’s got that dopey look all the whores around here get when they’re crammed with Dirty Soul dick.
I fucking hate it.
Pressing my palm over her face, I force her to look at the wall. I don’t want her looking at me.
When you don’t say shit, you hear plenty, and I heard someone say once that your eyes are the window to your soul. Believe me when I say I’m doing this bitch a favor by sparing her a glimpse into mine.
I keep staring at that headboard, fucking her until her pussy clenches around me and stimulates me enough to offload into the rubber I got covering me. I’m barely done before I roll off and snap the condom from my still hard cock. Then, tossing it at the waste-paper basket, I grab the bottle of tequila I brought up here with me from the nightstand and knock back a long swallow.
Here it is, the awkward silence that always follows after. I know what she’s thinking. She wants to know why I didn't want to look at her while I fucked her. She’s a pretty girl. I'll bet she’s used to plenty of attention. Women don’t fuck me because I know how to pleasure them. I barely know how to take that shit, let alone give it. Women fuck me because they're curious about me, and they think it will give them answers. She would have heard from the others that she won’t get an explanation outta me, but she likes to think she’ll be different.
It really ain’t worth her sticking around.
“Well, you're exactly what they told me you’d be.” She laughs to herself as she gets out of bed and pulls her skirt back on. “Dark, mysterious, and hung like a stallion.” Her eyes linger on my cock like she’s hungry for more, and I flick my eyes to the door to let her know we’re done here. If the bitch is still horny, Tac is never opposed to sloppy seconds.
“Be seeing you around.” She leans in to kiss me, and I retaliate by snatching up her jaw. She inhales a sharp, shocked breath as I slowly shake my head and ease her away from me to a safer distance. When I release her, she gathers the remainder of her clothes from the floor and rushes out of the room without looking back.
Lighting up a smoke, I check my phone for any messages from the brothers and when I find my inbox empty, I tip back another mouthful of tequila. I debate going back to my cabin, but it seems a little pointless since my brother moved out.
I don’t begrudge Squealer for finding himself a woman. It came as a shock at first, but Alex is good for him, and it’s gonna be hella interesting watching them handle the two kids he’s knocked her up with. But there ain’t a doubt in my mind that he’ll make it work. Squealer always fucking does.
