Dirty Bad Secrets(16)

She didn’t. She stormed right out and didn’t even give me the finger.



***



Faye



“Such a pretty bird. My Magpie. My beautiful Magpie.”

He taps the crop underneath my chin until my eyes lift to his.

“Smile for me, pretty bird.”

My smile is hollow. Sad. Vincent doesn’t care, though, just as long as I’m smiling.

“You know it’s all a show out there, don’t you? It’s theatre, Magpie, nothing more. They don’t mean anything to me. Not like you, not like my precious bird.”

The gentle caress of his fingers on my cheek, and I’m kissing them. He pushes his thumb into my mouth.

“Show me what you want, sweet bird.”

I suck on him, my eyes hooded as I stare into the darkness in his. My lips make slurping noises, little suckles that make him gulp. I watch his throat move.

“This is what matters... Only us... This is what’s real...”

A tear spills down my cheek and I don’t make any effort to hide it. I can hear the revelry so close, the rhythmic waltz of sex and pain.

“Is my pretty bird going to sing for the crowd? You break so beautifully, my sweet Faye. Such an exquisite gift. It would be a crime to keep you all to myself.”

The crop on my skin, tickling along my collarbone, and down, to my naked breasts. I keep sucking on his thumb, and he groans his approval. It’s the sweetest sound. The only sound. “I know what you need, hungry girl.”

He pulls away, wiping his thumb across my lips. A moment before the camera clicks. My eyes are heavy with tears. “Such beautiful sadness,” he whispers. “You look magical. Truly magical.”

He fastens me into the mask, a half-face of black and white feathers and swirling glitter. I’m pulled to my feet, my hands so small in his.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he smiles. “Remember, you sacrifice your body for my pleasure.” He kisses my cheek, and I’m smiling again. “Showtime,” he grins, and pulls open the curtain.

So many eyes, so many hands, and I’m lost. I drop to my knees, cry out at the vicious fingers on my breasts and between my legs.

A woman’s tongue against my lips. “She tastes so sweet,” she laughs. “Open wide.”

Her fingers prise my mouth open and a dick fills it. My eyes dart around as I suck. Musky, thick and deep, my eyes stream as I retch, and people are laughing. My heart pounds as I catch sight of Vincent, he’s a few feet away, not far. I cry out for him, but it’s muffled by the cock in my throat. The bodies shift between us, and I see him more clearly.

And her, I see her, too. The same woman it’s been every night this week.

Her ass slams against his stomach as he fucks her, and she grunts like a pig, her big tits swinging under her. She’s biting her lip, and he’s pulling her hair, pounding her pussy as another man pounds mine.

Our eyes meet and he smiles, blows me a kiss and puts his hand on his heart. “Beautiful,” he mouths. “My beautiful Magpie.”

Someone stretches my arms, shackles me to a bar, and my legs are spread wide.

“She’s crying.” Someone laughs. “How pretty. Let’s give her something to cry about...”

I smile before the whip cracks, and keep my eyes open long enough to watch my lover come in another woman’s pussy. His face turns red, eyes screwed shut, and he’s groaning, pulling on her hair.

Jealousy pangs fresh, all over again.

Two years I’ve been in this place. Two years at his side, in his bed, in his arms.

I’d begrudge nothing... not the parties, or the pain, nor the women wrapped around his cock, moaning as he fucks them, grinning as he spills his seed inside...

If only he’d fuck me too.



***



Faye



I kicked off my heels in the taxi, blisters killing worse than any bruises. The dawn was already breaking on a chilly Sunday morning. I was knackered, exhausted, run ragged by a Saturday night shift behind the bar. It was heavy going, I must have walked ten miles and then some. Ten miles in six-inch stiletto heels. I don’t know how the other girls kept so bouncy.

The taxi pulled up outside my hotel and I limped my way across the pavement. Reception was closed, and I let myself in through the dim foyer, creeping upstairs to my room. It was nice, clean. Cream and tasteful, without any clutter.

I flopped on the bed, a starfish on the duvet, contemplating falling asleep where I was until my mobile started up. My heart leapt until I recognised the London code.

“Hello?”

“There’s more to bar work than swanning off as soon as the doors close.”

I groaned. “It’s gone six a.m. I’m tired, Andy. Really tired.”

“I’m wiping down your bar.”