“Oh God,” she breathed. “Oh God, it hurts.”
I spread her lips, pinching her clit and rolling it between my fingers. “You’re so wet, Faye, you dirty little bitch.”
“Please…” she said, and I don’t think she even knew what she was asking for.
When I slapped her again she yelped and lurched forwards, holding her breath as I eased her back. My hand pressed to her throat. “Stay still.”
She nodded, but lurched again as the next landed, circling her hips until the pain subsided. I slapped her until she squealed and closed her thighs, only to kiss her neck until she opened back up for me. Over and over and fucking over, and my cock was straining to let go against her ass and my own breath was raw and raspy. I slapped her pretty tits, and my breath caught at the sight. The mirror was a wonder, a beautiful fucking wonder. It captured everything, every dirty little fucking thing. I pulled at her nipples until she screwed her eyes shut, and I slapped those beautiful tits until they were marked with my handprints. I wanted to mark her, I wanted me on her, I wanted her body tainted with mine, branded permanently with my own dirty fucking need for this reckless, frivolous, delicate fucking creature.
And that’s when I knew. The fucking rings. Of course I knew, I’d known it all the time.
“He put those rings there, didn’t he?”
Her eyes flew open, her breathing ragged. “I … I don’t want to talk about it.”
I twisted her nipple. “Come on, Faye, just say it.”
“No,” she hissed, and I slapped her pussy until tears sprung.
“I’ve had enough of these dirty fucking secrets.”
“Like you haven’t got any of your own,” she breathed. “I know you have secrets, Andy. You’re no better than me.”
She was right, of course. So right that the room was charged with it. I reverted to my questioning without so much as a flinch.
“Did you want him to do it? Did you ask him to pierce your dirty little cunt, Faye? Did you beg him for it?”
She tensed as if I’d put a current through her, but I didn’t let her go. I was a lot stronger than her, and I held her tight to me, my fingers already working their way inside her.
“I didn’t beg,” she rasped. “I cried.”
“Because it hurt? It must have fucking hurt.”
“Because I was scared…”
Her words slapped me, and some dark fucking monster uncurled in my gut. My body softened, my grip on her loosening as I sought out her clit and played nice. “It’s ok,” I said. “Relax. It’s alright, Faye, just relax.”
She did relax, slowly, pressing herself back against me, temple to temple. Her eyes wouldn’t meet mine in the mirror, they were hooded and low, her breath short as my fingers worked her clit.
“It was his idea,” she said. “He wanted it.”
“Did you want it?”
The softest shrug. “I wanted what he wanted.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“It wouldn’t have made any difference. He always got what he wanted, that’s how it worked.”
“That’s not how it should have worked, Faye.”
She smiled, and it was bitter. “You can talk.”
“I’ve still got your teeth marks on my ass,” I said. “I think I can talk, actually.”
She breathed, then moaned as I picked up the pace around her clit. “I didn’t like his friends. Two of them, they were always around. Cynthia and Richard. Cynthia was an evil fucking bitch.”
“Go on…” I encouraged.
“It was Vincent’s idea but Cynthia pushed it. Said she’d done a piercing course, had all the stuff.”
“Had she?”
She shrugged again. “I don’t know.”
“And you let her?”
“I let him.” She lolled her head back, squirming her hips. “I’m scared of needles. Like really scared.”
“He knew that?”
“He knew. That’s why it was such a big deal. That’s why she pushed it so hard.”
I wrapped my arm around her, across her breasts. “Tell me.”
“They were drunk on Prosecco, so was I. Cynthia brought out the piercing kit, the needles and the rings, and I freaked out like a baby. It wasn’t my finest hour, Andy. It was embarrassing.”
I battled the rage, focussed on her soft, sweet pussy against my fingers. “What happened?”
“They called me a baby, of course. Laughed at me. Vincent told me to stop disobeying, gave me all the give yourself to me, pretty bird, be my beautiful magpie shit.”
“And you did?”
“I cried, and I lay down after they talked me into it for ages on end, then freaked out and started shaking. But good old Cynthia had it covered. She took my wrists, sat on them, told me to stop being a spoiled little brat.”