Dirty Bad Secrets(56)

“How does it feel to get a taste of your own medicine? Do you like it there, spread fucking wide at my mercy? Ready to take whatever filthy shit I throw at you?”

“Yes, I like it. You liked it, too. We both like to skirt the edges, Andy, where the real dirty gets going, only you don’t know it yet, not like I do.”

“Let’s see how you like this little payback.” His fingers forced their way inside my mouth, hooking inside my cheeks to spread my lips wide. “Open up, I want to see all the way down your pretty fucking throat.”

I didn’t have a choice, and I didn’t want one. I opened my mouth as far as it would go, and then there was the only smell of him, the weight of him, hot and musky as he pulled my head back and angled his cock for the back of my throat. He pushed in deep, so deep that my cheeks billowed out like a chipmunk’s, and I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, retching around his prick as he jammed it all the way in.

“Take it,” he growled, grinding his hips. His balls were against my nose, slapping against my face as he fucked my throat. I coughed and spluttered, hacking up big wet streamers of spit, and he rubbed it all around my face, down over my tits where he pinched my nipples until I yelped around his cock. “Two can play this game,” he said. “Anything you can do, I can do just as fucking bad, Faye, remember that.”

He pulled out and I gulped in air through my burning throat.

I wasn’t prepared for the lash of his belt on my thighs. It stung, then smarted, but there was nowhere to wriggle, nowhere to go. The adrenaline rushed through me, and then came the endorphins, rolling in on the waves. He lashed the belt across my tits, sharp biting slaps designed to catch my nipples, and they worked, oh fuck, how they worked.

“Yes!” I said. “Fucking hell, yes!”

“Is that what you said to him, Faye? Is that what you said while he lined up his friends to plough your filthy little asshole?”

His words cut through the haze. “What? You read it?”

“Oh yes,” he hissed. “I fucking read it.”

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 as Daddy Frank 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.”