Dirty Bad Secrets(65)

Cynthia’s eyes are more piggy than appreciative, but her smile is broad.

Vincent strokes my neck as he continues. “I explained to my magpie that devotion has two faces, and to earn the indulgence of her request she must first demonstrate how truly worthy she is, how dedicated. That’s right, isn’t it, my sweet?”

“Yes, Vincent, Master. That’s right.” I’m smiling so widely I can’t even contain myself. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he laughs. “First you must earn your reward.”

My stomach drops, on instinct. He rises from his seat and pulls away from me. “On the floor. I want you flat on your belly with your arms behind your back.”

I get into position without hesitation, and he drags me by my feet into the middle of the room. My tits graze against the cold tiles, and it hurts. A good hurt. He reaches for shackles and I gasp as he hogties me. My ankles are pulled tight to my wrists, and my back arches uncomfortably. I can hardly move, useless and immobile with my cheek to the floor. He pulls my knees apart and nudges my pussy with the toe of his shoe. He wriggles it until I groan. I hope he isn’t going to kick me there, but already my thighs are opening wide for him, just in case.

He moves away and resumes his seat, patting my empty space in order that Cynthia joins him. She smirks and places a hand on his thigh. I have to strain my neck to look at them, and it hurts my back, my shoulders, too. He hands Cynthia a stopwatch. “Would you be so kind?” he asks. Of course she would. She’d love to. “Two minutes,” he says. “You can be the judge. My beautiful bird has two minutes to crawl to my feet. If she makes it, I’ll love her all night long.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Cynthia asks with a sly smile.

“And if she doesn’t…” Vincent’s hands are already at his belt. He frees his hard cock and my breath catches. Cynthia’s hands are greedy, already wrapped around him. He pulls them away and kisses her knuckles. “If she doesn’t, then she will indulge us by watching me fuck your pretty cunt until you scream for more,” he laughs. “And she’ll be grateful, won’t you, Magpie?”

No. I won’t be grateful. I can already feel the tears. “Yes, Vincent, Master. I’ll be grateful.”

“Don’t look so sad, pretty bird. I have every faith in you.” He smiles. “And even if you don’t win, there is always a commiseration prize. I’m sure Richard will offer you his fist as a reward for your efforts.”

“Or me,” Cynthia hisses. “I’ll reward her.”

Please fucking no. My eyes are screwed shut, but my heart is pounding. I can do this.

“Go,” Cynthia shrieks. “Wiggle wiggle wiggle like a worm.”

She’s laughing as I start, my body a squirming useless mess of exertion, going nowhere fast as I grunt and writhe along the tiles. My shackles bite my skin with the effort, and my chin smacks the floor as I flail, but I don’t care. All that matters is reaching Vincent’s feet.

He’s laughing too, now, and so is Richard. I make slow progress, agonisingly slow, and it hurts. Not just the pain of my body, but the humiliation. It burns and it stings, making tears flow. I lurch forward in crazy jerks and close some distance. There’s a faint chance I may make it, and I try harder, grunting with determination as my breasts slam against the floor. I’m nearly there, my nose just a foot away from Vincent’s toes. Just a couple more thrusts.

“Good girl!” Vincent laughs. “That’s my pretty bird. You’re almost there.”

But no. Cynthia’s face says it all. “Time up,” she snaps. “You lose.” She’s lying, I know it. She tosses the stopwatch aside and smiles at Vincent. “Such a shame,” she hisses, and her hands are already on his cock.

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.