Chapter 54 Grace #3
The words are a slap. ‘Fat little Grace.’ A memory of a chubby, awkward teenager flashes behind my eyes.
“She is the rarest delicacy there is,” Antonio replies, his voice dripping with pride. “Would you care to try her?”
Uncle Bobby’s eyes gleam. “I thought you’d never ask.”
He steps forward, and his hands are on me even as I whimper. They are not like Antonio’s. They are greedy, possessive. He grabs a handful of my breast, squeezing roughly, twisting the piercing in a way that makes me sob more.
“Look at these,” he grunts, his face close to mine. “All that baby fat turned into something useful, didn’t it, you fat bitch?”
He slaps my breast, the sound sharp in the now quiet room.
I struggle against the ropes, but they hold me so tightly that I can’t do anything but just dangle here.
He laughs, his hand sliding down my stomach, over the lace of my panties. “And this? Is this what you really are, Grace? A filthy slut?” He delivers a sharp, stinging slap right between my stretched thighs.
I cry out, my hips bucking against the restraints.
“Answer him,” Antonio commands, his voice calm, his hand poised on the controller for my collar.
“Yes.” I sob knowing what he wants to hear, knowing what words will prevent more pain. “I’m a filthy slut.”
“Antonio’s filthy slut.” Uncle Bobby barks, fumbling with his belt, getting his cock out.
He rips the lace panties away and pushes into me in one rough, unyielding thrust. It’s uncomfortable, a burning stretch that doesn’t relent because despite what Antonio gave me, despite some part of my body being lost to this nightmare, I am not turned on enough to be wet.
I gasp, my body tensing against the pain and the intrusion.
“She’s tight,” Uncle Bobby grunts, beginning to piston into me.
Antonio moves closer, a small, sleek remote in his hand that is different from the collar one. He leans in, his lips brushing my ear. “Good girl.” He murmurs. “Let him use you. Let them all use you tonight. We are showing the world what a good little bitch you’ve become for me.”
I shake my head even though I know it’s going to earn me more pain, more punishment.
I’m not a thing to use. I’m a person.
His lips pull up in a smirk. Instead of anger, I see amusement. “It doesn’t matter what you believe, Pet. You’re a whore. My whore. And tonight, your body will perform for me whether you like it or not.”
He presses a button on the remote.
A vibration, deep and insistent erupts from the hidden metal in my most intimate flesh. It’s centred directly on my clit, a relentless, buzzing pleasure that obliterates the discomfort instantly.
My gasp of shame turns into a long, low moan.
“That’s it,” Antonio whispers. “Let go. Be the mindless slut I want you to be. Be the perfect whore I’m making of you.”
The vibration is everything.
It unlocks a part of my brain that only knows sensation, that only wants pleasure.
Uncle Bobby’s thrusts become a rhythm I ride, his degrading mutterings of, “Take it, you fat bitch,” become a mantra that pushes me higher and higher.
I am screaming, my body straining against the silk ropes, my world narrowing to the cock inside me and the devilish vibration on my clit.
I am nothing but a body, a vessel for pleasure to be used, and right now I welcome it, I give in. I have no choice, no other thought process beyond this moment, this pleasure, this.
Uncle Bobby groans, his thrusts becoming erratic, and I feel the hot rush of his release inside me. He slumps against me for a moment before pulling out. I sag in the ropes, panting, the vibration still humming, keeping me on a dizzying edge.
Antonio walks a slow circle around me, inspecting his property as he looks at the mess glistening on my inner thighs. “Robert,” he says, his voice cold. “You’ve made a mess of my Pet. Clean it up.”
Uncle Bobby, still breathing heavily, just grins. Without a word, he drops to his knees before me. His tongue, rough and eager, laps at the come trickling out from me.
He cleans me with a grotesque reverence, his mouth seeking out every drop.
Antonio turns the vibrator up a notch, and a broken cry is torn from my throat as another, smaller orgasm is wrung from me, my body convulsing against the ropes as Uncle Bobby’s tongue works away.
“Filthy fucking whore.” Uncle Bobby chuckles. “Your daddy would be so proud.”
I don’t care. I don’t care about anything. The alcohol, the drugs, and this thing vibrating in me have taken away my morality, and I’m lost. I’m so fucking lost.
I sob out one brutal orgasm as he licks me clean, and when he is done he rises, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He nods at Antonio with a look of profound satisfaction before stepping off the stage.
I am panting, spent, my body humming.
God, I hope it’s over. I need it to be over.
Antonio turns to the crowd, his voice projecting across the room, cool and challenging.
“I’d like to introduce you all to my latest pet, Grace Ratcliffe.
She’s a spoil of war, a trophy I get to keep and abuse.
Most of you have been burned by her father, Titus, in one way or another.
Perhaps tonight we can right some wrongs.
Who else would like to fuck his whore of a daughter? ”
“No,” I gasp, louder this time, more insistent. I don’t want this. I don’t want to be here.
Antonio turns, bending down to look me in the face as he slowly tucks a piece of my stray hair behind my ear. “Stop fighting this, Pet. We must let them have their fun. These jackals came here tonight for Ratcliffe blood, and we must give them that.”
I shake my head more furiously.
He tuts, placing a finger over my lips. “Embrace what you are. Embrace what you’ve been trained to be. I’ve given you something to make it feel good, Pet, so just relax and enjoy it. Remember you’re a whore. A mindless fuck hole to be used. That is it, that is all you need to be.”
I blink back the tears as he steps away from me.
I can feel that drug setting in. I can feel it eating away at the last bits of my sanity, and I shudder realising that I don’t have the strength to fight this. That I can’t stop this.
I am a whore. Antonio’s whore.
His filthy fucking slut to use and abuse however he sees fit.
A man stands up from a nearby table. He is lean, with a sharp, cruel face and his eyes stare at my breasts. “I always hated Titus, thought he was an arrogant prick.” he says, striding towards the stage. “Can’t imagine a better revenge.”
He doesn’t wait for an invitation, he just wrenches his belt open like he’s about to wage a war, and he’s on me. His hands are rougher than Uncle Bobby’s, his cock pushing into my already well-used, sensitive pussy.
It’s too much, and yet Antonio’s thumb finds the remote and the vibration intensifies, forcing a scream from me that is pure, unadulterated ecstasy.
I hang from the ropes, becoming the mindless doll he wants me to be as this stranger takes his hatred of my father out on my body, thrust after brutal thrust.
He growls as he fucks me.
He spits on my body in a way that is so intentional and he drives his fingers into my flesh, twisting, as he abuses me.
“Filthy fucking slut,” he grinds out over and over as he brutalises my insides.
But Antonio keeps that vibration on. He pushes again and again, creating some awful rhythm of need in me and I stare at him, stare at my Master as he forces another orgasm from my body.
An orgasm I don’t want.
An orgasm that seems to shame me more with every passing second that I scream.
“She loves it.” The man says, laughing before slapping me hard across the arse. “Her cunt is even better than her mothers. Imagine that.”
I cry more as I realise what that means; that he’s been to Oblivion, that he’s hurt my mother too.
When he finishes, he too drops to his knees and licks me clean without being asked, his tongue both a punishment and an awful reward.
I lose count after that. A third man appears, then a fourth and a fifth.
They use and they take, and they deride every piece of my flesh while Antonio forces my body to do exactly what he wants.
One man uses my mouth while another fucks me vaginally, and all the while the vibration is a constant, maddening presence that sends shockwaves through me with every movement.
They both lick me clean while I convulse in a seemingly endless chain of orgasms, my screams becoming hoarse, ragged things until I can no longer make any sound whatsoever.
The world dissolves into a kaleidoscope of light, sound, and sensation as the faces in the crowd blur.
The ropes are no longer restraints, but the only things holding me together.
I am a thing of pure sensation, a canvas upon which Antonio paints his masterpiece of degradation and disgusting ecstasy.
When Jareth steps up, I’m so close to passing out that my eyes can’t focus. It’s like there are two of them, two more men come to use me.
He says something to Antonio, but I can’t hear anything beyond the music and my own pitiful moans, so I have no idea what it is.
Antonio inclines his head and Jareth gets onto his knees, pressing his face right up to me.
“She’s so fucking wet.” He groans, dragging a finger down, right through the mess of me.
Antonio hits the remote, pushing the intensity to full blast and I jerk, screaming as he manipulates my body to disgusting perfection.
Jareth laughs, flicking the piercing which sends a bolt of pain through me that I need as much as the pleasure now.
“You think she can handle me?” He asks
Antonio tilts his head. “I’d say she’s ready. Give her a try.”
I don’t understand what they’re talking about. I’ve already had over a dozen cocks inside me, what’s one more at this point?
Only, Jareth clearly doesn’t want to put his cock in me. Instead, I feel his fingers sliding in. He groans as he forces one after another inside me and although it’s tight, I’ve been used and stretched to the point where it feels like even this is normal.
“Fuck me.” Jareth laughs. “She really is the finest work of art.”
“Better than a Botticelli.” Antonio replies.
I shudder as he moves inside me, as it feels like those fingers turn into something harder, bigger and he starts thrusting.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Jareth groans as he starts pistoning back and forth and I realise with horror that it’s not just his fingers, it’s his fist. He’s punching me, punching my insides.
“No.” I sob. I want it to stop. I want this all to stop.
“Ssssh,” Antonio says, dropping to his knees in front of me. “You’ve done so well, Pet. Let Jareth have his fun just like you let all the others.”
I sob harder, becoming inconsolable as it feels like this man obliterates my insides.
Antonio tuts before undoing his belt. “It’s okay.” He murmurs, like this is such a horrible misunderstanding.
He pulls his cock out, and before I can do anything he slides it into my mouth. “Take this.” He says gently. “Suck on this. Comfort yourself with my cock while my friend plays with your cunt.”
I have no choice but to do it. His dick is taking up all the space in my mouth, and in order to breathe I have to focus on suctioning my lips around him.
He tangles his hands in my hair, stroking it, stroking me like I really am a dog.
“Good girl.” He says. “Just suck.”
Jareth continues fucking me, using me, hurting me and then Antonio hits that button again, granting me the mercy I so desperately need. I sink further, I give in and embrace the creature I’ve become, embrace the pleasure I so desperately need in this moment.
The last thing I am aware of is the sound of my own voice, screaming into the void as the pleasure becomes a white-hot pain and then, finally a blissful, welcoming darkness.
I pass out, still suspended in the crimson silk, still screaming.