Authors: Jaymee Pizzey
WAYWARD BRATS (3 page)
Sal’s Saloon was most definitely not the best place for me.
I had to escape.
I had enjoyed Sal’s hospitality for over two weeks now. Every night Kitty had her way with me, or another girl. Every night we were sold to the highest bidder and satisfied, his or her or their, particular fetish.
I was one of Sal’s biggest money makers, a notorious nympho.
I’m not going to lie, I
had
loved every instance of anal sex, bondage, lesbian sex, role play, and the devil knows what else I had been paid to enjoy, but now I was bored.
Nothing was depraved enough anymore.
I couldn’t get off.
I haven’t cum in three days and I was sick of faking it.
The titillation of being controlled had worn off. I needed to do those things to others, not have them done to me.
I wanted to do these things to Father Marcus, but young exotic males were his bent. He had been in the audience again tonight, this time partaking of two men from Istanbul.
I wanted a priest of my own, but the only ones to visit Sal’s were gay or didn’t bid on me.
I had to escape and find some fun.
I had no clothes, I hadn’t needed any until now. My dress was too ruined to wear, so I had pilfered a shirt and a pair of trousers and stashed them behind the kitchen door.
I just had to get to them.
My chance came when Pastor Lyn from Christian Center for Homeless Young Men broke the arm of her latest purchase.
I ducked into the kitchen, clambered into my stolen clothes and ran down the street. The too large pants slipped down and tripped me up with each step. Crouched behind a row of trashcans I re-rolled them for the fourth time and used a garbage bag tie to hold them up, watching the road for pursuit.
The neon-infested street was empty so close to dawn and no one came from the direction of Sal’s.
I ran in a crouch, laying down on the pavement whenever a car passed, but it seemed, I was free. The shirt hung to my knees, and all I could hope was that anyone who saw me would dismiss me as a meth head or coked-up hooker.
I turned down random streets, thinking of escape and not where I was going or what I would do when I got there.
At least, Sal had taught me a nineteen-year-old girl could make some serious money on her back.
The last choice petered out into a dead end. I spun around to go back the way I had come and crashed into a group of men.
They weren't small either.
“You’re one of Sal’s.” One caught me by the arm and dragged me under a streetlamp.
Lust slithered down my spine.
I knew this man, Rhett Stone, Charlotte Stone’s great-great grandson or something. Sal had banned him from the Saloon but no one knew why.
“I know her. She is!” another said climbing a set of steps, he unlocked a door. “Let’s bring her inside. Find out what she's about. Maybe we can use her to get back at Sal.”
Rhett hauled me up the stairs by the collar and shoved me into the hall.
“There’s no need to be rough!” I clawed at his face but he grabbed both my wrists in one of his and pushed me against the wall.
“Be still, Ariana,” he said.
I blew the hair out of my face. “I am not trying to escape so don’t treat me like I am. How do you know my name?”
“I heard she likes it all.” This next man set a crate of beer on the side table. “She’s a Reactive.”
“Submissive,” Rhett corrected. He shoved me further down the hall and leaned against the wall, his black jeans and shirt clung to his well-muscled body.
The rest filed in. They were dockworkers from their clothes, not dirty exactly, but rugged and unkempt.
Except for Rhett.
He was an exorcist I remembered now.
Was that why Sal had banned him from the Saloon? Some of Sal’s clientele were into some dark shit.
One of the dockworkers opened a beer with the edge of the hall side table. “Here, have a drink.” He shoved his mates aside. “Give her some room to breathe, fellas.”
“How do you know my name,” I asked Rhett again.
“Rhett, let’s take her into the living room. Make her comfortable. You in trouble or something? Maybe we can help. I’m Joe by the way.”
I thought he was going to proffer his hand. I think so did he, but after an awkward pause, he ran his oil-stained fingers through his hair and left it at that.
“Always willing to help one of Sal's girls.” This dockworker grabbed his crotch to make his meaning clear.
I rolled my eyes. I could tell even from here there wasn’t much for him to hold on to.
Rhett guided me into a room with a couch and two armchairs. The others squashed in behind us.
“Why don't you tell us what you are doing out by yourself. Does Arnold know you are here?” he asked.
I swigged the beer and shook my head.
“I had to get out of there. It wasn't good for me,” I said. “I was bored, but Sal wouldn't let me leave unless I went back to Charlotte Stone.”
Rhett nodded to one of the others to shut the door.
“There’s no need. I told you I wasn’t trying to escape. Actually, I’ve been wanting to get close to you.”
“There’s been a lot of talk about you,” Rhett said grabbing my shirt and pulling it over my head. “About your willingness to please.”
“I want her first!” One of the men shoved through the others.
Rhett stroked my breasts. “I’ve been trying to get to you. Take your pants off.”
My nipples grew hard with the abrasion of his calloused palms, his hands were large and dry.
“You know my name? Who are you working for? Sal? Father Marcus? Are you a pack of Arnold's wolves sent to fetch me?” I knelt up on the couch and jutted my breasts forward as I untied my baggy pants and slid them down my thighs.
“Ariana. I work for God. I’m trying to help you. Do as you're told.”
The intense sexual vibe in the room ignited the flame inside me.
I wet my finger and watched Rhett watch me. Covered in spit, I traced my index down my stomach to my pussy.
The room vibrated with the energy of the other men’s undivided attention.
I wanted Rhett’s.
I spread my pussy lips to reveal the sweet pink flesh of the inside.
I might have been the devil's plaything, but these men were my toys.
Rhett would be my slave.
I slipped two fingers inside myself and bit my lip, never taking my eyes from him. I waited for his dark eyes to ignite.
They didn’t.
I crawled off the couch, a lioness on the prowl, on all fours; mouth parted, breath loud, eyes soft, tits firm and high, my youth a “fuck you” to gravity.
I took Rhett’s hand and pulled him down next to me.
He surprised me when he let me push him to the floor and straddle him. The five other men surrounded us, barely giving me room to move.
I placed Rhett’s hands on my breasts and he cupped them, stroking his thumb in circles against my nipples.
His dark gaze smoldered with a wicked light.
He was surprisingly easy to take, this man of god.
He lifted my hips as I guided him, his cock hot and thick, everything I craved, entered me.
I slid my hips down and took the first few inches in a slow stroke.
“Get her,” Rhett growled.
Joe grabbed me by the arms and pulled me from Rhett’s cock.
I scratched and snarled, wild with desire and outrage. How dare they take my toy away? I almost broke free but another man came and took my other arm.
“Calm down, Ariana.” Rhett got to his feet, enormous cock fully erect. “Put her back on all fours.”
A thrill of excitement shot through me.
I went to all fours and one of the men straddled my back to keep me down
There was no need. I waited willingly.
I expected Rhett to kneel and fuck me at any moment. Instead, each of the dockworkers undressed.
“I get her first, Rhett.” Joe shoved through the others, his torso pale and flabby, button-mushroom cock nestled in his pubic hair. “You said next time I got to go first!”
“Three can go at a time.” Rhett lounged in the armchair and stroked his cock. “Call Cathy in.”
“Rhett!” A beautiful girl in a sheer silk toga and gold armbands came into the room and sat on Rhett’s lap. Arms draped over his shoulders she peppered him with kisses then captured his mouth under hers.
A howl of jealous rage tore from me as I watched the girl lift her toga and Rhett’s magnificent cock, my magnificent cock, disappear into her tight pussy.
He was my toy!
I forgot Joe until he spread my butt cheeks and eased himself inside of me. He didn’t stretch me, there was only the soft slap of his thighs against my ass as he pumped against me.
I had had so many cocks in the ass in the last two weeks, I hardly felt Joe’s tiny offering.
I groaned in frustration but I couldn’t shake him off.
Another of the dockworkers knelt in front of me and pressed his semi-hard crooked little dick into my mouth.
“Suck it!” he moaned. “That’s it, baby.”
I didn’t have to open my mouth beyond a yawn. In the end, I kept my lips apart and let him do all the work. When he came it was a hot shot of cream that barely tickled the back of my tongue.
All the while the whore, Cathy, screamed screaming as Rhett nursed on her copper-colored breasts and, hands on her hips, drove his perfect cock into her pussy. Her pussy stretched to capacity with every extra inch of Rhett it took.
I saw everything, positioned below them as I was. Worse, with every lift of her hips, Cathy’s ass cheeks spread and I glimpsed her tight and perfect taint. Any minute now Rhett was sure to shift his cock and tear her open.
“Rhett, please,” I begged when yet another mushroom-dicked dockworker fapped in my face and jizzed over my tits.
“I need you!”
Three dockworkers remained.
“Finish them and we’ll see.” Rhett’s gaze never left mine as he shifted Cathy and placed his cock against her taint.
Hands on the armrests, he let her take control. Cathy chose to take Rhett into her ass in one long stroke.
I closed my eyes waiting for the next three mushroom dicks to cum and go.
The feel of a thick, massive cock against my ass took me completely off guard. I thought it was Rhett for a heartbeat. But it was another dockworker, like those before him, he entered me in one stroke but his cock, finally, filled me and stretched me how I needed to be stretched.
My moaned of pleasure turned into a grunt of surprise when another dockworker grabbed my head and rammed his huge cock down my throat.
I gagged with each thrust while his mate plowed into me from behind.
“Someone take her pussy for god’s sake,” Rhett said.
Both men pulled out and I was manhandled onto the cock of a man lying down. All three ignored each other, and me, as they reclaimed their assigned holes. All three took me at their own pace, used me as they wanted.
Each man drove himself into me and sort his own release without consideration for mine. They took me like so much raw meat, filled me with cum and pulled out.
I loved every inch of the hammering I was taking, yet I wanted more.
I wanted control.
If I didn’t get it, I wouldn’t cum. I
couldn’t
cum.
Or so I thought.
Another group of men entered the room.
“Lucky girl. Looks like third shifts over.” Rhett pushed Cathy off of him and zipped up his trousers. “The beast’s in this one, nice and tight, Boys. Make sure you don’t let her take control, understand?”
Cathy left the room as I came.
Rhett stood in the doorway and watched me until my climax finished.
“You’re a submissive, Ariana,” he said.
“I want control,” I said, eyes closed and breathless.
“No, you don’t. You think you do but you don’t. Besides –” He rapped twice on the door frame, “Submissives have all the fun, you’ll see.”
He left me to find out the truth for myself.
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WAYWARD BRATS
Copyright ©2016 Jaymee Pizzey
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