Part 22 (1/2)

What the f.u.c.k.

I was standing naked in the middle of the room wearing three inch stilettos, and he wanted me to play ring around the f.u.c.king rosy. I managed to play his stupid game for about fifteen minutes, and I couldn't do it anymore. My legs felt like jello, and were going to give out. That's exactly what happened. My ankle twisted, and I went down. I sat on the floor and grabbed my ankle. It hurt so bad. I thought for sure it was broken.

Drew laughed. I slid the heel from my foot and flung it across the room. I didn't know where the cameras were, but that was what I was aiming for.

”You shouldn't have done that,” he warned.

I couldn't help it. I had enough. My ankle hurt. My legs felt like they were going to fall off from prancing around like some idiot for him, and my tongue wouldn't stay away from my swollen lip.

”f.u.c.k you!” I yelled. I hadn't said anything remotely close to that since my first week there.

He didn't say anything. I knew that he would be bursting through the door at any second. I didn't care. I was p.i.s.sed.

He didn't come, and all of a sudden the room went pitch black. That made me supremely happy. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d couldn't see me anymore. I removed the other shoe. My ankle still hurt, but I knew that it wasn't broken. The lights stayed off for maybe twenty minutes. I slammed my eyes shut all of a sudden at the bright light while my eyes tried adjust to the abrupt brightness.

”Move to the middle of the room,” I heard him say.

I started to stand and then stopped. I didn't care because it hurt to stand on my ankle.

”Crawl.”

I did as he said, and crawled like an animal back to the center. I sat in the middle of the room waiting for instructions. He didn't send anymore, and my heart sank when I heard the door being unlocked.

I knew I was in for a night of h.e.l.l as soon as I saw the look in his eyes and the bag that he carried, at least until he got off anyway.

He stood right in front of me and looked down.

”What did you say to him?” he asked in an angry tone.

”Nothing,” I said, taking my second blow to my face ”You're a liar. What did you say?”

”He only asked if I was happy and how I was doing. I told him yes that I was happy, and I was doing fine.”

He grabbed my hair and pulled his face close to mine. ”What did I tell you before we went there?”

”I tried not to talk to him without you. You're the coward that walked away.”

I didn't mean to say the last part out loud. It just came out, and I knew that I would pay for it.

”Stand up,” he demanded.

I stood, and he turned me sideways so that he could get a nice long stroke when he brought his hand to my bare a.s.s. It hurt. It hurt like a son of a b.i.t.c.h, but I wasn't going to let him know that. He made sure that we were facing the mirror so that I could watch.

”You've been here five years. Are you ever going to learn to do what you're told?”

Should I tell him to go to h.e.l.l now or later?

”I don't know what you want. Nothing I could do would ever make you happy.”

I took another welt from his hand on that one.

”Did I tell you to talk?”

”Yeah, kind of. You did ask me a question,” I smartly said. What was wrong with me? I never defied Drew nor did I smart off to him.

Third crack to my naked a.s.s.

”Sit,” he demanded.

I did, and he made me turn toward the mirror. He stood behind me and reached into his bag of goodies. It wasn't anything new, and I had been introduced to that vibrator before.

He turned it on high power and ran around my collarbone and to my nipple while he watched our reflection in the mirror.

”Do you think you're going to come, Morgan?” He whispered in my ear. I could smell the whisky on his breath.

Well that's a stupid question.

”No.”

”And why not?” he asked, teasing my nipple with the vibration. ”Keep your eyes on the mirror,” he demanded when I turned away.

”Because I was a bad girl.”

f.u.c.king a.s.shole.

I was twenty four and had to tell him that I was a bad girl. I hated him. I could have shot him in the head and never felt bad about it. I could have even spit on him while he bled out and died.

”Spread your legs, bad girl.”

I did as I was told, and he moved the vibration between my legs. He pulled my hands back so that I could lean back more and hold myself up. I tried not to moan as he slid the vibrator up my already wet folds.

Stupid v.a.g.i.n.a, always taking his side.

”Does that feel good, bad girl?”

It was a trick question. I didn't answer.

Drew moved around and sat in front of me, spreading me as far as my legs would allow. He rubbed the hard plastic vibrator down to my a.n.u.s, and I knew exactly where it was going to end up.

”Open your eyes,” he demanded when I felt the vibrator penetrate my opening.

He slid it in slowly, enjoying the show as his free hand ma.s.saged my wet core. I was okay with that. I was used to being violated there. It was the next device that he pulled from his bag that I despised. I almost stopped breathing when he pulled out the rod that would send an electrical current through all of my female parts, bring me to an almost immediate o.r.g.a.s.m, and then stop. I hated that stupid thing and would have loved to shove it up his a.s.s.

He smiled broadly when he saw the look on my face. He moved the vibrator in and out of my a.s.s a few times, torturing me with the rod in his hand. I just wished he would hurry up and get it over with, but that was too easy. He got off on seeing the distress written all over my face.

”This hurts my knees. Move onto the bench,” he demanded.

Poor f.u.c.king baby.

I didn't mind the bench. The floor was rather hard.