17. Claire
17
CLAIRE
A s he fastens the lined leather cuffs around my wrists—snug, but not uncomfortable—I watch his hands. Strong, with long fingers. Familiar.
Part of me wonders if I am deluding myself; if I’m just hoping it’s Keller so there’s something familiar in this madness. But no. It’s him, I just know it. Those fingers were on me, in me, only yesterday. And they made me feel exactly like this. A bit afraid, tingly with both anticipation and dread.
“Why the cuffs?” I ask. “I’m doing as I’m told.”
“I know you’re trying, little ghost,” he whispers in this metallic voice. “But weren’t you also told to shut up?”
My eyes snap to the mask.
It truly is him. I knew it, but the confirmation is welcome. Some of my tension eases. He won’t actually hurt me, I don't think. Not the way Cross might have.
“I’m binding you because however much you wish to be good for me, you’re going to try to bolt. I’m going to make you want to run away screaming. But you’re going to stay right here, for the next three hours and thirty-seven minutes, aren’t you?”
I made myself nod.
“And then you’ll keep your mouth shut about it, won’t you?” As he speaks, his fingers, done with the cuffs, slide along my arm, electrifying me. “You can reply.”
“Yes. I’ll never tell.”
“I am quite certain of that, Claire.” He chuckles. “Do you know why?”
I shake my head.
“Because the first person we’ll send the recording of what we’re doing to you will be your sweet old grandma. Then the boyfriend. Maybe even deadbeat Mom in New York. And every time you apply to a school, to a new job, every time you meet someone you get along with? They’ll get an email leading them straight to your little performance.” My heart drops. “You’ve proven yourself untrustworthy. The only way you stay here is if we have collateral to hold over your prissy little head.”
“I wouldn’t…”
“You have,” he counters, guessing how I’ll end my sentence. “Twice. You threatened to expose one of us for a silly little game with his girlfriend, and then, you told the police we were drunk and likely high. The simple fact you don’t understand what’s wrong with that is why you’re here. You don’t mind throwing others under the bus, but you’ll be very good if it’s your neck, your reputation, your future on the line.”
He makes me sound so selfish. Am I like that? I don’t think so; I did what I did to help Lily, then to help the police.
It hits me suddenly that this is why I’m in this situation: because I genuinely don’t think I was wrong. Because I might do it again for a friend. But knowing they have blackmail material over me? I’d bite my tongue.
I hate what that says about me.
“Don’t worry too much, gorgeous. This video is only useful to us if it’s abundantly clear how much you’re enjoying yourself.”
His hands slide to my knees, and I shiver. I expect him to move up my leg, but he goes down to my ankles instead, fastening those in place too. Only then does he return to the hem of my skirt, lifting it, while his two hands slide up my thighs.
He's pushed the fabric all the way to my hips when I suddenly remember, despite the darkness, the music, that we're not alone. I sweep our surroundings in one glance and find that we have a larger audience; rather than just the six other masked people around us, there’s a crowd of at least two dozen people around the booth, all of their eyes focused on me.
That doesn't stop him.
“I should have gotten those panties off you before binding your legs. They're in the way. But no matter."
Carelessly, he slides the thin fabric aside, exposing me completely.
No one really seems to notice. They're chatting, drinking,or fucking each other. I’m not the main attraction, just one of the spectacles available amongst a sea of debauchery. Somehow, the fact that they barely watch him uncovering me like this nails home just how strange this place is. I would never have believed it possible that a world like this existed.
“Hey, pass me the box, will you?” Keller asks, and the guy closest to him, wearing a red mask, kicks a rectangular box concealed underneath the leather sofa towards him.
The size of a carry-on suitcase, a little larger than a toolbox, the black plastic case opens to shelves displaying a number of things, most of which I can’t identify on sight. Some, however, are easy enough to recognize, even for me. I’m a virgin, not a complete prude. They’re sex toys. Dozens of them. Some are obvious—dick-shaped dildos and vibrators, butt plugs, canes, floggers. Others, I can’t for the life of me guess the purpose of.
“Don’t worry. They’re all brand new, so completely clean.”
I don’t tell him that I wasn’t, for one second, concerned about the cleanliness of the many tools. If I look panicked, it’s for many reasons, and that absolutely wasn’t one of them. While the fact that I’m not going to be touching dirty things is good to hear, it wasn’t one of my concerns, so it does nothing to settle the erratic beats of my heart.
“This is your box, Claire. It’ll be labelled and saved exclusively for your use.”
He’s talking like he expects me to use them again. Yeah, right. They might as well chuck that entire box into the trash in three hours and thirty-something minutes.
“Have you ever used one of these?”
I’m too busy staring at the three shelves, trying to guess what some of the things inside are going to do to me.
There seems to be an order of sorts. The lower shelf is full of things that seem obvious, the vibrators, the butt plugs, a line of plum-sized balls, ribbons, masks, that sort of things. The second and third shelves are more obscure. Yes, I recognize the flogger, cane, and paddles, but there are other things that seem a lot stranger. Clothes pegs. A microphone? It looks like one in any case. An electric tool, attached to a battery.
“No, that won’t do at all. If you start by ignoring my questions, you and I are going to have a problem. Here’s how it’s going to go, Claire. You answer, you get to feel very good. If you won’t…”
Keller takes the strange, long, and thin black tool—like a wizard’s wand—detaching it from its charger, and points it straight at my exposed clit.
I don’t even realize I’m screaming, my entire body leaping forward, as a jolt burns my clit, and travels through my entire body. But I’m attached to the arms and feet of the armchair, so I don’t go far. I can’t escape the point of the thing, which sends several zaps at my sensitive nub.
The insane fucker is actually electrocuting me.
I don’t think I’ve ever screamed so loud. It’s, not to be glib, shocking. And yes, there’s a certain degree of pain, too, but as my core constricts, ignites, and pulses, I can’t deny there’s something else, too.
I don’t know how long he keeps the tool in place. Seconds, minutes. It might be an eternity. But at long last, he places it back on its base, turning that neon mask to me.
“Now, Claire. I asked you a question.”
He did? It seems like a million years ago.
“I…” My mouth is dry, my tongue strange. “What was it again? Please,” I add quickly.
“So very polite. You’re easy to train, aren’t you? Good little submissive bitch.”
I’m offended in at least three different ways, but I know better than to say anything.
“I asked whether you’ve used any of these before,” he repeats.
The question rings a bell, but it seemed to have been asked so long ago. Another day. Anything before the sudden jab of electricity was in another life.
I shake my head and also say, “No.”
Just in case the gesture isn’t enough. I don’t want to earn another punishment just because I didn’t say it out loud.
As soon as that thought crosses my mind, I blush because, he’s right. He’s training me—and very efficiently. I’m behaving like a good little bitch. Fuck, if that doesn’t enrage me. I want to rebel against the very idea. But not if it means he’s going to make me pay for it.
“Not even this?” he asks, picking up a small device.
I shake my head, flushing. I don’t even know for sure what it does. I took it for a vibrator.
“Oh, Claire. Did you think the devil was going to take you if you made yourself feel good?”
He makes me sound like a church girl. “No,” I snap. “But I lived with my grandmother .”
The very thought of doing anything sexual next door to her is ludicrous.
“Is that why you came here, pretty girl? Did you want the space to be as naughty as you’d like?”
I shake my head. My reason for choosing Rothford had nothing to do with sex, in any way, shape, or form. They just gave me the best scholarship.
But it’s true I was looking forward to having a little bit of freedom.
“Don’t worry, little ghost. I’m going to help you catch up.”
He moves the device between my legs, just like he did with the thin device, and I tense in advance. But there’s no pain, no sharpness. This toy gently blows against my sensitive flesh. My mouth falls open, my insides pulling, but for a very different reason.
“Like that, huh?”
“Yes!” I reply, no longer willing to ignore any question.
“Figured as much. How about this function?” He taps on the toy, and instead of blowing, its soft surface sucks me in.
I can’t help wiggling, attempting to close my legs and move, for all that I know it’s pointless.
“Fuck, you’re drenching your panties already. Are you going to be a good girl, Claire? Or do you want your dear nana to see you just like this? Say cheese, you’re on camera. Here,” he says, pointing to a feeble light flickering in a corner. “And here. These two will stay fixed on you until we’re done.”
It’s strange that these people are allowing themselves to be filmed. But then again, it occurs to me that all of them, all of us , wouldn’t want the events of tonight to be released to the public. By filming every participant, they’re ensuring no one will ever say anything about tonight. It’s certainly efficient. I can already say I’ll take everything to my grave, although I’ve just arrived. The thought of anyone I know seeing me like this is horrifying.
Grandma. Noah.
Oh god, Noah. My boyfriend, who hasn’t so much as touched my bare skin under my clothes, or even seen it. And here I am, legs spread and locked in place, a guy I’ve met this week, masked, shoving a clit suction toy between my legs.
The most shameful thing about this is that I like it. I like it so much. I don’t want it to stop. I already know I’ll do this again. I’ll get myself one of those toys and press it right there, every day and night. This just feels so damn good .
“I think you might just come already. Fuck, it’s been, like, three minutes. If you don’t brace yourself, darling, tonight is going to be exhausting for you.”
The gentle advice is completely useless. There is no holding back, and I don’t even try. My body is on fire, racing towards an overpowering climax.
And then he withdraws his hand.
The asshole just stops .
I stare at the mask, speechless. The nasty smile doesn’t shift, but I can imagine Keller smirking underneath.
“I said brace yourself, Claire. We wouldn’t want you to pass out.”
I am speechless .
“Just look at those puppy dog eyes. You’re adorable,” he says, with no small amount of condescension.
A chorus of chuckles remind me we’re not alone. Most of our audience is occupied by their own games, but a few watch me, and apparently find the whole thing amusing.
I can’t explain why, but spotting their eyes on me only increases the hollow, numb, deep need growing in my core.
“I’ll tell you what. Just because you’re so cute, I’m going to let you come.”
I heat up at the compliment, lifting my head hopefully.
“But only if you ask nicely.”
Of course there’s a price. “Please.”
“Go on, little ghost. Ask.”
“Please,” I say. “Put it back on.”
I have never felt so embarrassed in my life.
“This one?” he asks. “Or should I try something else for you? Something even sweeter.”
I bite my lower lip, curious. The toy was so good but the promise of something better piques my curiosity. “I don’t know.”
“There’s no point being so very shy, with your cunt exposed to me and your cum all over the leather,” he says gently. “Tell me what you want.”
“Anything,” I reply. Then I remember the electric shock, see all the floggers and paddles and canes, and reword. “Anything that feels good.”
“Good girl. I’m going to make you feel really, really good,” he promises.
Keller gets to his knees, and once again surprises me, by lifting his mask high enough to uncover his mouth, and pressing his tongue between my legs. Wet and hot and soft, it flicks my clit, then runs along the opening.
My head flies backward, my hips lifting to give him better access, without my direction. Oh, fuck. He’s excellent at that. I wouldn’t have believed a mouth could be as amazing as the blowing, sucking toy, but Keller proves me wrong; he can do that, and so much more. Firm one moment, teasing the next, the man devours my folds and clit and entrance like it’s his favorite lollipop.
I am completely out of control, thrashing against the padded manacles hard enough to hurt myself, in my desperation to move. I don’t even understand why my limbs flail and buck like this, when I don’t want to go anywhere. I just want more, more, more of this, forever.
I can’t even see properly, my eyes full of tears at the sheer intensity of it. I’m sobbing, laughing, panting, and Keller keeps grinding his mouth to my pussy. Suddenly, there’s something cold and wet pressing lower, right against my asshole, and I don’t know what to make of it. I am too busy trying to survive the onslaught of sensations to assimilate another one. Even when it presses against it. I don’t know what the thing is, and I don’t care. My ass just lets it in.
“Christ,” Keller grunts, the word teasing my flesh.
It didn’t seem very large when it went in, but I’m so very full, the thing in my butt pressing my insides in a way that only increases my frantic race for a mind-blowing orgasm.
Keller moves the thing filling my ass, almost removing it entirely, then sliding it back in. I lift my ass as much as I can, demanding more as I scream. It’s so, so good. He does it again and again, fucking my ass with whatever he’s holding, all the while sucking, licking, tapping my clit.
And then the thing in my butt starts to buzz.
I lose the inner battle my body was fighting, all my muscles grasping one last time as I drench his mouth. I am completely spent, faint and dazed. But the thing in my asshole keeps buzzing, and he continues sliding it in and out, although his uncovered mouth has moved away from me.
He’s smirking, that familiar mouth curving up, clearly self-satisfied.
“Who would have thought you’d be so much into butt plugs, little virgin?” Keller croons.
Certainly not I.
“Too bad we agreed to leave this pretty little cunt out of tonight. I think you would have enjoyed being completely filled everywhere, wouldn’t you?” As he speaks, Keller slides his fingers back on my clit, and my body tightens in awareness.
Moments ago, I could have fallen asleep. Now, my inside clench, intrigued, wanting more, like I’m nothing but a greedy little slut. That’s what he’s reduced me to. I’ve never felt this good.
“Yeah, I could fuck her ass while you plow her cunt,” a guy calls, making me remember our audience.
Instantly, I’m tensing for an entirely different reason. Fear.
“Oh, I don’t think so, my friend. This cunt is mine,” her says, pressing his lips against my folds again, just once. “And this ass. And that mouth. And those tits.”
“That’s cold, man. I share my girls all the time.”
“That’s your prerogative,” Keller replies. “But this one is mine .”
I want to tell him he’s wrong. I’m nobody’s property. Certainly not his. But I’m too tired and overwhelmed to speak.
Leaving the butt plug right where it is, vibrating inside me while my taut insides keep straining, Keller stands again, his hands moving to my blouse.
It’s a button-down, but instead of unfastening it, he takes both sides and rips it open, destroying it to expose my breasts. And then, he caresses them gently, softly, exploring them like he has all the time in the world.
Little by little, my exhaustion recedes as my core demands attention. Keller’s mouth moves to my nipples. He’s as gifted with tits as he is with clits, circling, flicking, and then, sucking.
He hasn’t so much as touched the inside of my pussy, yet its walls keep contracting, feeling empty, demanding. Even my butt wants more of the friction he gave me earlier. I need more. Unfortunately, he seems perfectly content sucking my tits reverently for the moment.
Frustrated, I whisper, “Please,” again. It worked last time.
“Please what, darling?”
Again with the demand that I spell it out. He knows what I want. The amused curve of his mouth proves it.
“Tell me, and I’ll give it to you,” he whispers. “I promise. You only have to ask.”
The softness of his voice is enough to make my insides constrict. I realize why. With his mouth no longer covered by the mask, it’s his voice. His soft and deep and dark voice. His tantalizing, skilled, beautiful mouth. I’m not getting a masked stranger. I’m getting Keller.
“Please give me more,” I beg, feeling oh so ashamed and terrible; neither matters so long as he gives me what I crave.
“Somehow, despite the button-downs, and the braid, and the pink, I just knew you’d be just like this,” he tells me, one of his hands trailing down the length of my skin. “Desperate to feel.”
His fingers slide along my pussy, and it grasps, eager for his touch, but with a chuckle, Keller aims lower, to the vibrating butt plug. “Oh, no, my little ghost. We had an agreement, whether you regret it or not. Nothing is penetrating your pussy, remember?”
I whine, and he chuckles harder.
But I sort of still get what I want—what I need—as he moves the butt plug in and out. It slides easily, with dirty, wet noises to compound the filthy, needy noises coming out of my mouth.
“It’s a bit small for you, I think,” Keller says, interrupting himself again.
I pout.
“Don’t be like that,” he teases. “I’m only going to give you something better. Wouldn’t you like that?”
I nod eagerly.
“Give me a second. I’m going to change your position, too.”
He does that first, freeing my wrists. I’ve only had time to put them together to rub them, when he takes them again, sliding them to my back, and locking them again, behind me this time. I huff, unsatisfied. This position is even more restrictive.
Next, he unties the cuffs around my ankles, and as I gasp, slides one of my legs upward, this time, tying the thigh to the armchair. Jesus. My legs are up in the air. He does the same with my other leg.
“I forgot your panties again. They’re really in the way now,” Keller says.
Somehow, I doubt that man forgets anything.
“Oh, well.” He grabs the fabric, and tears it just like he did with my blouse, then pockets the ripped panties, his hand running along my completely bare pussy. “You should see yourself just like this. I see your pussy drip and clench. It’s so very desperate.”
I only moan as he skims his fingers through the folds. I know what he can do with those. But for the second time, he returns to the butt plug, removing it entirely.
“And here I thought a size two was pushing it,” he says. “But your ass already wants more, doesn’t it?”
Flushing, I make myself nod, remembering the consequences of ignoring his questions. If he completely stops, I might die .
Keller selects another toy, the exact same shape as the first, but twice as big. Watching him lather it with lube, I gulp. “That’s too big.”
The shape is odd, its engorged head like a strawberry, then a thinner end, and a very large handle. The strawberry itself is almost the size of a fist.
“I don’t think so, darling. I think you’re going to take it easily, given how dripping wet and needy you are. The first one slid in so fast. And it was the first time anyone touched your ass, wasn’t it?”
I nod, my eyes glued to the toy in his head.
“Don’t look at it. Don’t think about it. Just feel,” he orders.
I’m surprised to see him put the toy down on the top of the box, and my eyes widen when his hands move to his slacks, tugging down his zipper.
I’m not prepared for watching him free his cock and fist it. My entire body goes rigid, while I gasp and stare in complete, stunned shock.
I know what a penis is supposed to look like. I’ve been sent a number of unsolicited dick pics online.
Cocks, in real life, are not supposed to look like this. As thick, and long, and perfectly curved as a dildo. A very large one. It occurs to me that anatomically, there is no way this man is compatible with me. His cock just can’t fit anywhere inside me. But as I stare in horror, it presses right against my folds.
I wince in anticipation, but no pain comes. Instead, Keller slides it all the way up to my clit, taps it twice, and then back down, parting the folds to press right at my opening, but never past my walls, just skating back up.
Oh, god. That feels so, so, so good. I whimper as he keeps dragging his cock along my pussy, desperate for more. He goes faster, that huge nub pressing harder, but never aiming to enter me. And all of a sudden, I am desperate for him to do just that, to fill me, press inside, even though I’m fairly certain he’ll tear me in two.
“Fuck, you’re drenching my cock,” Keller laughs, sounding half mad.
He sucks in his breath as I pant, like he’s just as feverish as I am, the friction driving both of us insane.
Then he shifts, never stopping the movement, and all of a sudden, there is pressure pushing inside me; but not my pussy. It’s at my ass. I don’t tense. How could I, when he’s fucking my pussy lips and bringing me so very close to another climax?
The plug—the huge butt plug I didn’t think could possibly fit—is inside me in a second, my ass sucking it in, and it shakes while Keller moves harder, faster. I scream as my insides flood him, coming without warning, faster than I would have thought possible.
This time, I’m not losing it, faint, or tired. I’m wired, my body aflame. It knows there’s more. Wants much more.
He slides the plug in and out of the ring of muscle, and my ass takes it, something inside me shifting at each penetration.
“That’s it. Prepare your ass for my cock, darling. I’m going to take it. I’m going to fuck you until you’re full of my cum,” he promises.
I sob a yes, then another, and another, chanting the word.
“Bloody hell,” I hear someone say. I don’t care who. I don’t look. But I’m reminded again of the audience, and my pussy quivers at the thought. “She’s hot.”
I like it. I like that they’re watching.
Keller reaches for my hair, tugging at the elastic bands keeping my braids in shape. Immediately, my unruly curls fly all around my face. I’ve likely been sweating, so they’re as out of control as ever. Keller secures his mask in place once again and lifts a hand toward some of the onlookers, who have edged closer, standing, to watch the lewd display.
“The wand,” he demands in that robotic voice.
I tense, expecting the electric tool, but it’s the microphone-shaped toy that one of the onlookers—a masked girl—hands him.
And suddenly, the head of the white toy’s pressed between his cock and my clit, and I’m screaming as it vibrates, covering so much of my delicate skin.
I wouldn’t have thought it possible for anything to be this good. Surely it’s a sin. Nothing is supposed to be so close to paradise. I’ve never really bought into the whole church thing my grandmother has preached, but if this isn’t divine, otherworldly, I don’t know what could be. And if I’m damned for it? I don’t think I care.
The next orgasm comes way too fast. I’ve not even recovered from the last. My body’s starting to ache in odd places; maybe it’s not made to feel this much.
“Please, please, please,” I hear, and I am startled to realize it comes from me.
I don’t even know what I’m begging for. But he does. Keller slides the butt plug out completely, and the next second, he’s pushing his cock inside my ass in one smooth thrust.
Fuck .
He’s so, so big, and completely different, the head of his cock punching the wall between my ass and pussy, stimulating both as each deep, fast, unrelenting plunge.
I can’t make sense of the pleas and moans and screams coming out of my mouth, as he grunts and keeps plowing me, my visceral need growing.
If this is sex, why isn’t everyone doing it every day, all the time? Why is it kept secret, private and discouraged? I want to keep doing only this for the rest of my life. I want him inside my dripping pussy, and my ass, and circling my clit with one thumb, and cupping my breast with one hand just like he’s doing now, until the end of time.
It’s my last thought as I completely lose all concept of time and space.
I think I pass out. I’m fairly certain I do, because the next time I blink, there’s something hard and soft all at once pressing against my lips.
“I cleaned it,” he assures me, as my eyes lazily lift to his mask face.
The head of his cock hovers over my lips. I part them. Keller doesn’t ask if I’ve done it before, so I’m spared the embarrassment of confessing to yet another way I’m completely ignorant. Instead of waiting for me to do something, he sways his lips a little, pushing his cock in and out of my mouth. All I need is to keep it open.
“Head back,” he says gently. “Don’t fight it. Breathe through your nose, yeah?”
I’m past protests. My mind and body simply obey. His cock presses past my tongue, into my throat. It narrows in protest, but then I force a breath into my nose, and the huge appendage eases farther inside.
I breathe with my nose, and he fucks my throat, his hand fisting my curls.
My ass and pussy are empty, wet and raw, both tightening without reason, as if somehow still in need of attention. Letting him use my throat makes me want his cock elsewhere, everywhere.
He’s turning me into something I wasn’t yesterday, something I didn’t think I ever could be.
A needy, mindless slut.
I like sucking him. I like him fucking my ass. This is what I am, who I am. Someone who genuinely loves sex.
Part of me wonders how he could have known I’d be like this. Because he did know. He told me, and I didn’t believe him. Maybe everyone actually enjoys it once they give it a try. Or maybe he saw something in me.
“Look at her dripping cunt,” I hear someone laugh. “It looks like it wants my cock.”
“Touch her and I cut it off,” Keller snaps.
That makes my entire body sing. He’s not going to let anyone else touch me. I’m his toy, and I love it.
The sound of his grunt as his hips move faster, his thrusts shallower, make me feel powerful. Wanted. Skilled.
“I’m going to come,” he tells me, retreating, and then wet, viscous warmth covers my face, my hair, my lips.
I dart my tongue out to taste it. It’s salty and slimy.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he informs me in that metallic voice.
That’s only fair. He killed the girl I used to be tonight.
I know, deep down, that however much I am enjoying myself, I’m not going to keep doing this with him. First of all, he’s gotten what he wanted from me. He won’t be interested in more. He’s a billion years away from me, in both experience and social standing. There’s no we. He wanted to use me, and he has. But I’m secretly grateful for the awakening. Now, I know this is a part of me, that sex needs to be in the equation for me to be happy with anyone.
I’m thinking of Noah while covered in Keller’s cum. I am a terrible person. First of all, I decided to break up with him earlier today, but I haven’t yet, so I’m cheating . But I’m also horrible because he’s been my friend my entire life, and he’s always been kind, nice, and patient with me, and I’ve never, ever wanted him like I want Keller. I don’t want his cock in my mouth or my ass. I’m not craving to know what it feels like deep in my pussy.
I only want Keller.
Fuck. He’s likely already tired of me, and here I am, desperate for more. How am I going to get over him?