The Bitch (6 page)

Ten more blows.
Then twenty. And not once did he release my hair. I was a sobbing, blubbering
mess, and still he kept spanking me. The blows didn’t feel quite so sharp any
more, more like a dull stinging sensation. By the time his hand stopped coming
down and he rubbed it possessively over my hot flesh, I’d lost count of how
many spanks he’d delivered.

Finally, he
moved in front of me, holding my head still with both hands so I was forced to
look at him.

“A Fuck Toy does
not get to come when she wants to come. You only get to come when your Master
wants you to.”

I wanted to say,
“Fuck you,” but I was still crying too hard. Even if I’d been able to get the
words out through my tears, they would have been stopped by the sensation of a
man climbing on top of me from behind.

Squirming to get
away was useless, of course, but I did it anyway. It didn’t matter, though. I’d
barely registered the weight of the man pressing down against me before his
cock was deep in my channel.

And that was
when I realized I honestly had no idea who was fucking me. Bradford was in
front of me, but it wasn’t Davis inside me. This cock was shorter, thicker.
More curved, in a way that touched intimate parts of my sex that had never been
touched before.

He grabbed my
hips and pulled me back onto him, wildly thrusting into me in a frantic pace. “So
fucking wet.” His voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t sort it out because it
was veiled with lust. He moved his hands beneath me, sliding them up my body to
grab my breasts. “Fucking bitch. This is what will happen every time you’re a
bitch to me, Marina. I’ll spank you until you’re dripping, and then fuck you
into tomorrow.”

I should have
been wondering who he was, trying to sort that mystery out, but all I could
think about was how he was right. I was crazy wet. His thick cock had slipped
inside me easily, all the way to the hilt, and he was moving within me like he
was coated in an entire bottle of lube.

Could it really
be all because Bradford had spanked me? That hurt. It hurt so bad I was crying.
I couldn’t have been turned on by it.

But all signs
pointed that way.

Holy hell.

I was becoming
more sick and twisted by the moment.

The rest of my
night continued in much the same fashion. They would leave me alone, and I’d
struggle to find a way to reach climax because they left me a hot mess. I would
fail. Eventually, I’d fall asleep…only to be wakened again by either Bradford
or Davis spanking me, getting me all hot and bothered again, and then someone
would fuck me from behind.

After that had
happened for about the third time, I finally recognized the voice of the man
fucking me. It was Chuck, one of the idiots I worked with. His cock wasn’t as
big as those of the other men who’d fucked me that night, but he thrust with a
vigor he couldn’t contain, slapping my ass cheeks all the while.

Once I
recognized Chuck’s voice, it was easy enough to recognize that the others had
also been my co-workers. The first guy had been Frank from accounting. Then
Will from HR, and Chuck. Luis from the mailroom and Henry from accounting
finished my night.

Each time, they
would take me so close to finding an orgasm I could taste it, only to shoot
their load into a condom and leave me alone with my need.

By the time
morning came around, I’d had probably less than two hours of sleep, I was sore
all over, but especially my sex, and I was so desperate for climax it would
probably take little more than a whisper of breath on my clit to get me off.

Davis came into
my room, whistling like he didn’t have a care in the world. I wanted to punch
him, to kick him, something to find some small way to fight back. But that
didn’t seem too likely to happen. And when I thought about it for a minute, I
didn’t really know how much I actually wanted it—other than the fact that it
might mean another spanking. One more thing to take me closer to that seemingly
just-out-of-reach plateau.

“Ready for day
two, Bitch?” He was bent over me with a bunch of rope, tying it around me into
the same sort of harness I’d had on for a while last night.

“Fuck you,” I bit
off.

Davis settled a
knot perfectly over my clit as he drew the rope through my slit and up between
my ass cheeks. “Haven’t had enough yet, have you? No worries on that score.”

When he finished
all his knots, he unlatched my wrists and ankles and used the leash he’d
created to drag me off the humpy thing. My muscles screamed in protest at
finally being allowed to move, but he didn’t wait for me to stretch them and
get accustomed to the change. He just tugged until I had to follow him, on all
fours, out into the hall.

Breakfast went
much the same as supper had. I was on the floor lapping gruel they claimed was
oatmeal while Bradford and Davis sat at the table eating pancakes, bacon, eggs,
fruit…a damned continental breakfast.

As Bradford
finished his meal, he pushed back his chair and undid the zipper on his tight
leather pants, then gestured for me to come and suck him off. Davis carried the
dishes to a sink and ran water to fill one side.

I didn’t want to
suck Bradford off, though. I wanted some damn relief for my own sexual
frustration. Instead of making my way on all fours to service him, I gave him
my trademarked snotty glare.

That might not
have been my best move.

In an instant, he
grabbed a fistful of my hair hauled me to my feet, then dragged me to the
water-filled sink. Never releasing his grip on my hair, he moved the rope
splitting my butt cheeks aside and forced his huge cock balls deep into my ass.
Bradford’s thrusts forced my ribs up against the side of the counter.

He tightened his
hold on my hair so hard that I screamed, but instead of jerking my head back,
he forced it down into the water.

I gurgled and
choked, still mid-scream when my face went below the surface. He held me down
for a few seconds, never ceasing the pumping into my bowels. My lungs burned,
but not nearly as much as my sexual hunger. Then he drew my head back up. I
gasped for air and spluttered as water flooded down my torso, drenching my
breasts. My insides were cramping and I couldn’t seem to catch a breath, and
then Davis zapped my breast less than an inch away from my nipple with
electricity.

I screamed
again, and Bradford forced my head beneath the water again, holding me down for
longer this time. The zaps kept coming, almost as fast as Bradford was fucking
my ass, moving between my breasts, my inner thighs, just next to my clit. Good
god, my clit. The rough rope knot kept abrading it with every tiny movement,
and I was shuddering with the need for an orgasm. I’d almost taken a lungful of
water by the time Bradford pulled me back up for air, and again gasped for
breath while choking.

But they didn’t
stop. Each time he pushed my head below the water, he held me down for longer
than the last time. Each jolt of electricity to my body, each forceful invasion
of my nether channel, each tug against my ropes had me closer to the most
mind-blowing orgasm of my life…so close I could almost feel my eyes rolling
back into my head.

When Davis
touched the zapper directly to one of my nipples, the buildup to my climax was
almost painfully unbearable. I frantically reached out for something to hold
onto, anything, needing something to ground me against the coming onslaught. My
fingers found the faucet, and I held on for dear life as Davis repeated the
process with the other nipple. A crazed scream ripped from my lips and my
insides clenched, as though desperate to keep Bradford’s dick deep in my ass.

He was thrusting
so hard and fast, my feet left the ground and my weight was supported solely by
the counter. Once more, he forced my head down into the water.

Davis zapped me
directly on my clit.

I shattered into
a limp, exhausted puddle.

I must have
passed out after that bender of an orgasm. The next thing I knew, I was hanging
from the ceiling by my wrists with chains connecting my cuffs to steel supports.
My legs had been stretched out to the side, with leather supports at the ankles
and upper thighs, also chained to the ceiling. I wasn’t in a split, exactly…my
legs had gone further than that, almost like a very wide V, so that my ass and
pussy were the lowest-to-the-ground parts of my body. Two supports came up to the
undersides of my knees from the ground, cupping them in place.

There was no
possible way any part of me would be hitting the ground any time soon
regardless of the chains I was hanging from and the supports below me, though,
because there was some sort of fucking machine beneath me, working dildos in
both my ass and my cunt at a frustratingly slow pace.

I moaned, and it
was then that I realized I had a gag in my mouth. Drool streamed steadily down
my chin and dribbled onto my chest.

“Back with us,
are you Fuck Toy?”

I felt Bradford
behind me, his hot breath fanning over the back of my neck and tickling my
ears. He kneaded my ass cheeks, then trailed his hands all over my body until
he settled them on my breasts. After a few squeezes and slaps, he pinched my
nipples and twisted. Little more than a gurgle came from my mouth. Well, a
gurgle and more drool.

A lot more
drool.

Holy hell, that
was disgusting.

It dribbled down
my chin and dripped off, coating my insanely sensitive breasts before
continuing its trek downward.

Bradford
chuckled, but then he backed away. I wanted to turn so I could see what he was
doing, but I couldn’t move anything but my head…and even that caused my other
muscles to move in not-so-great ways, so I quickly decided to face forward just
like I already had been.

When he moved
behind me again, he tapped something hard and wooden against my butt, lightly
at first but then increasingly harder. He worked one cheek at a time, gradually
increasing the force until I was nearly to the point of yelping into my gag
before moving to the other side and repeating the process.

My ass was still
insanely sore from all the spankings last night. I really didn’t need a
paddling to go on top of it. But it didn’t matter. That’s what I was getting.

He gave me a few
good thwacks on the backs of my thighs to go along with the spanks on my
bottom. The force of his blows continued to grow, causing my body to jerk
unnaturally against my restraints. Each time I did that, I came back down
harder on the dildos fucking into me. But instead of sharp pains from the
paddle, it was more of a thudding heat that was spreading all over my body,
working its way out to my fingers and toes, and spreading deeper to my core.

Christ on a
cracker, I was getting off on this. My sex was wetter than I could ever recall
it feeling, and my body was tightening and squeezing against those two dildos
like crazy, trying to keep them deep inside me, to take them further into me
than they could realistically go.

Thud
.

My breasts
jiggled, heavy and swollen and full. I was desperate for something to touch my
nipples again, to put pressure on them and squeeze them.

Thud
.

My clit
throbbed, engorged and enflamed. One little touch was all it would take to send
me over the edge, one flick of a tongue or brush of a finger. Nothing touched
it but cold air.

Thud
.

Every inch of my
body felt alive and enflamed and oh-so-desperately needy.

That was when
the paddling stopped and Bradford stepped away from me. He probably left the
room. I didn’t know. I just knew I was right on the edge of another climax, and
there was no way in hell I could get myself there without a little help.

But I didn’t get
any help. I just had those damned dildos fucking into me so slowly I wanted to
scream, and a whole bunch of me, myself, and I hanging around. Damn them.