Troy grunted, lifting his head lazily.
"Honey, I want you to keep your pussy cherry," he growled after a pause. "I'm not gonna pop it."
I was completely silent. What? Why? This was totally out of the ordinary, why would he do that? So I twisted in his embrace, seizing his gaze.
"But Mr. Black," I whispered, my heart beating like a butterfly's wings. "Why? Why not take it? It's yours," I murmured.
And he caught me in a deep kiss then, so moving and thorough that I shivered in his arms, immediately responding. The dark man let out a rumble then, one big hand going up to caress a breast, to pull lazily at the nipple, making me moan.
"Because honey," he ground out. "You were sold against your will, and I wanna make it right for you," he said. "You were abducted and then auctioned, and you didn't ask for any of it. So this is my way of making it up to you, treasuring you. Your virginity's precious, and I'm not going to take it."
But I was even more confused now.
"You're not touching my pussy because it's precious? Because I'm precious?" I parroted, brow furrowed. "But that doesn't make sense. If I'm precious to you, wouldn't you want to stroke me, feel my wetness, make me completely yours?"
And the big man growled then, body hardening immediately once more.
"Honey, you'll always be mine," he ground out, body tightening, hand descending to my swollen folds, running through the softness. "Always," he rasped again. Because of course Troy touched my sweet cunt all the time, made me cum with his fingers while his cock dicked me deep in back. In fact, one of his favorite things to do was to have me on my back, massive shaft pushed into my ass as he slid a finger into my pussy, feeling my hymen, lightly stroking the evidence of my virginity as he owned my behind. So I didn't get it, really didn't get where the hesitation came from given how thorough he was with me all the time, using all my holes.
I shook my head, pressing on again.
"No Troy," I murmured, seizing his wrist so that he had to stop caressing me for a moment. "You're not doing me any favors by leaving me a pussy virgin. I want you in me, I want you to take me deep, to make me scream with your dick in my cunt. Please," I whispered, begging him. "Make me yours."
But Troy was under some weird belief that if he didn't penetrate my pussy, that I was better off mentally, that I'd bounce back to being the "old Ellie" that much faster. So he stubbornly refused, instead caressing my breast with one hand, pulling at the nip, grinding his hips against my soft behind.
"No baby," he rasped into my ear. "You're going to thank me once this is all over. You're going to thank me even if you don't realize it now, because you'll be able to go back to your own life, take up where you left off."
And I snorted then because there could be nothing further from the truth. I was in love with the big man, addicted to his touch, his voice, his dark, dominating personality, the way he was so confident and charismatic. There was no way I could go back to being plain old me, he'd changed my world, tipped it upside down and there was no going back. So the idea was ludicrous and I wanted to scream at him, or at least have a fuller discussion, but Troy was already hardening once more, dick growing stiff.
"That's it," he groaned into my ear. "That's my slutty baby, be Daddy's little butt slut once more."
And just like that, the love play was on again, another deep, satisfying round of anal, so good, so thorough, making me scream with want, desire, my body shaking with love, lust, adoration for this man, taking him every which way, wherever he wanted. And I never got a chance to bring it up again because our week ended the next day and he put me in that town car, literally manhandled me into the backseat, pushing me out of his life.
So I was here at the hotel room once more, limp, drained of energy, disbelieving at recent events. I'd started as a happy-go-lucky girl, a nubile, innocent teen and transformed through a heartwrenching series of events into a woman of the world, a fully-formed sensuous female with a lover, a love, a man whom I adored … and whom I'd never see again.
The realization made the blood drain from my body, my mind whirling with panic and confusion as I sat limply on the couch staring at Rachel.
"What happened to you?" I asked, my voice dull. "What happened at the auction?"
And Rachel was only too happy to share, babbling with excitement.
"Oh, it was wonderful," she gushed. "I woke up in a small room with a TV screen and there were the most beautiful girls being sold. Isn't that crazy? I was a little nervous at first," she confided, "but then I got really into it, the whole thing was so sexy."
"Rach," I said slowly, "you were drugged, did you know that? Maybe that's why your inhibitions were gone, why everything was trippy and okay."
She frowned, thinking.
"That might be part of it," she said slowly. "Because yeah, when I woke my fingers and toes were a little numb, but soon they got tingly and I sensation returned. But Ellie," she added. "I think my system cleared pretty fast because I felt normal in a matter of minutes. I think I was okay," she said, frowning again.
I wasn't sure where to go with this. Had my friend been lucid or dreaming? We'd never know for sure now, it was too late to re-visit the past. But still, I pressed on.
"But what about Miles?" I asked insistently. "He was the one who gave you the spiked drink. Did he mistreat you in any way?"
And Rachel nodded then.
"I know, this whole thing only happened because of that Miles guy. I'm so sorry Ellie, I never should have hooked up with him," she apologized sorrowfully.
I didn't say anything because Miles was toast now. After everything I'd told Mr. Black, there was no question there'd be blood on the floor. But Rachel went on.
"I know it seems wrong, but the auctions were so naughty, the girls so beautiful and El," she confessed, blushing a little. "I got turned on watching them. Like really turned on," she said with a sly grin. "Were you auctioned off as well? Well, no matter," she burbled on, only too happy to ramble. "I went up after watching a couple of them on-screen, and Rach, I was such a slut," she said conspiratorially, voice lowering. "They put me in a blue cloak that was velvet, and when they whipped it off, I was completely nude, butt-ass naked, in a small room with all these windows looking at me. But I couldn't see who was behind the windows, they were one-way," she confided, voice lowered. "It was so hot, know that there were men looking at me," she breathed. Oh my god, my friend was literally getting lusty just recounting it, there were stars in her eyes, the way her bosom heaved. But I was getting turned on as well, growing moist, remembering how Mr. Black watched my strip show, watched me dance for him, boobies out, cunt bare. Oh fuck, I wasn't the only one who'd loved being sold, wasn't the only girl who lived for her captor.
But Rachel burbled on, oblivious to my confusion.
"Then the cloak was dropped from my shoulders and it was a little scary," she admitted, biting her lip. "I was nude after all! But I got over it soon because these men in dark gloves started touching me and made me feel soooo good."
Here I had to burst in.
"But Rach, it was strange men touching you. You weren't freaked out at all?" I asked, trying to be neutral. Of course, this had happened to me too, and I'd loved it, so I was throwing stones while living in a glass house.
But the blonde just nodded her head.
"Oh yeah, I loved it," she giggled, throwing her curls over her shoulder. "They're really talented, those guys, they knew exactly where to touch and how to make me feel good. They should," she added saucily. "Their whole job is to make girls on the block come. And it was so wrong in every way, their faces were covered with hoods so I couldn't see who it was, mmm," she moaned for a moment, eyes closed, re-living the memory.
But then her eyes snapped open and she shrugged with a happy smile. "I dunno, it made me feel so sexy, so hot, so good, and I just went with it," she said nonchalantly. "I started touching myself and you know, one thing led to another."
"Really?" I said woodenly. "And then what next? Did they make you prove your virginity?" I asked, disbelieving. Because from what I remembered, my friend had been with dozens of guys, there was no way she was a virgin, either front or back. But hey, the events of the past week had been so crazy, so insane, that anything could happen.
"No, of course I'm not a virgin!" giggled my buddy. "I lost my virginity ages ago to that football player who was expelled from school, remember?" she asked, brow furrowing. "What was his name again? Charlie? Chaz?"