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“Bite me and I will chain your legs spread open so I have access to you whenever the fuck I want. Understood?”
I nod to show I understand. It could be much worse, but as long as I am good, it will be ok. I promised. Landon promised.
Hudson isn’t gentle. He forces his entire cock down my throat or as much that can fit. The guy is big. The salty taste of precum paints my tongue as he starts moving himself, thrusting himself back and forth.
His tip slams against the back of my throat, before continuing down, causing me to gag.
“Shh, breathe through your nose,” he coaches as drool escapes my mouth.
The tears I was trying to hide begin trickling down my cheeks.
Hudson leans forward, angling himself so he can get deeper inside of me. He grabs each of my wrists, bringing my arms above my head and squeezes them tightly together.
I continue to gag with each thrust, his movements become more rapid he isn’t going to let up anytime soon.
“Fucking take it, Banksy. Take it like the worthless whore you are,” he degrades me.
My tongue brushes against the underside of his swelling cock. Hudson’s breathing picks up as his orgasm begins to build.
He has my wrists so tight that circulation has been completely cut off, my hands tingle as I try to move my fingers.
This should be over any time now. Please let it be over. I can barely breathe, only little breaths sparingly as he continues his assault on my throat. It’s already starting to feel sore. Then, all at once, he lets go of my wrists, and I can immediately feel the blood flow reenter them. Hudson is on his feet, with his hand stroking his cock viciously. It looks heavy in his hand as it continues to swell. I am looking right at it as his warm cum begins to shoot out of it, landing on my face. He doesn’t let up, pumping it back and forth as he continues to release himself on me. Some lands on my cheek and forehead before he rasps, “Open your fucking mouth. Fucking take it. I said take it!”
My mouth opens and not to anger him further, I stick my tongue out, ready to catch what’s left. More ropes of his warm cum erupt from his head, landing on the tip of my nose then the corner of my lip.
“Good fucking girl, keep that tongue out. You filthy fucking girl.”
His movement begins to slow as the last few drops of cum drip onto my tongue, and he aims his cock using his hand.
“Finish it all. I don’t want to see anything left behind on that pretty face,” he instructs with his heavy cock now hanging between his strong thighs. Hudson’s hands fall to his sides as he watches me. I swallow the drops on my tongue first before using my fingers to scoop up his salty release between my lips. I try to be as seductive as possible to please him.
“Fucking finish it all, Banksy,” he whispers, encouraging me.
Taking the last bit from my nose and around my lip, I suck it back. Making a show of it, my chest rises as I look back at him.I make moaning noises of enjoyment as I swallow, “So good, Hudson,” I whimper in return.
His hands go to his chest, he rubs himself all the way down his torso before reaching his cock. Hudson rubs his thumb along the tip and bends over on top of me again. His cock is resting on my chin. “Open,” he instructs. I do, expecting him to make me suck it off, but he surprises me. Rubbing it along my swollen lips, “Keep it there. Taste me all fucking night.” His own chest is heaving, his eyes captivated by his own movements. Then gripping my face with his hand, he whispers, “Merry Christmas, Banksy. This is one neither of us will ever forget.”
Then it occurs to me. That is the present. The memory of his assault on me is forever engraved and burned into my mind.
Spit follows, landing in my mouth as he still has my face gripped.
Hudson says nothing as he releases me, slapping my face hard enough you can hear the crack of his palm connecting with my cheek echo through the room. I want to scream. To react like he wants. But I can't, I promised. He doesn’t know better.
Laughing, he rises and pulls his pants up.
“You fucking deserved this. You know you did. Fuck you, Banks Lewis.” His eyes are filled with hate and his face screams of disgust.
It’s all he says before stepping off the mattress and making his way back to the stairs. He flips the switch at the bottom of the stairwell, turning off the lights and leaving me in the dark. I am grateful. I want to curl up into a ball and cry and wish this would just finally end.
18
BANKS
Iam why I am here.
The cold basement and its distinct sounds are becoming all too familiar now with each moment and day that passes. The creak of the floorboards late at night, or is it during the day? That part I don’t know. The clicking sound the furnace makes before roaring to life. And the one tiny mouse that scurries about. It has gotten used to me being here. Any crumbles left behind from my meals and it will come nibble on them. I refuse to give it a name, it makes this real, being chained and tortured in this hell. If I give it a name, it means I’m as pathetic as they think I am. This mouse isn’t my friend, it’s not my hope or coping mechanism, it’s just a fucking mouse.
“What are you thinking about?”
