Chapter 12 #2
There is a hole in the front of the desk due to the fact that what used to be a solid front is now two sliding panels that snap together with a cutout in the middle that is just a bit larger than my neck, but definitely not so large my head could pull through.
My head is secured through a hole in the front underside of his desk, my neck supported by padded undersides.
If anybody walks in here right now, they will see me here, my face exposed.
It will look strange. It will be deeply shameful.
“Good girl,” Aiden praises, taking his seat behind me.
At first he does nothing. I hear some shuffling of papers, and then some light typing. I wonder how long he is going to have me kneeling here, if that’s part of the punishment. He is seriously so fucking sick.
Just as I am starting to get so impatient I could scream, Aiden reaches under his desk and fingers my pussy casually, using me like a fidget toy.
I hate that it feels good. I hate that his casual dominance makes my stomach fizz and my pussy get wet. I hate that my hips are performing that humping contortion that comes with wanting to be fucked.
Aiden leaves no room for any thoughts. He forces me to be in my body, in the moment. He controls my mind by controlling my flesh.
“Such a good girl,” he says, getting up from his chair.
He walks around the desk, kneels down, and unzips his fly, letting his cock come out of his pants. He feeds it into my mouth, and after a gentle thrust or two over my tongue, I find myself with my face being fucked.
He caresses my face as he uses me, making sounds that aren’t quite words, but nevertheless feel like sweet compliments. His thick cock slides over my tongue back and forth, making my jaw ache after a few minutes.
Almost as if understanding, he grips me under my chin and holds me in place while he ruts my mouth faster and harder.
His semen splashes over my lips, my tongue, and some goes over the bridge of my nose.
“You can wear that,” he says. “It would do you good to remember what it feels like to have your face painted in cum.”
He goes back to work then, and I am left to kneel in the desk stockade, my face covered in his cum. When he decides I have earned it, he slides a small vibrator into my pussy and straps it in place around my ass and thighs so I am filled and pleasured while he works.
“That should keep your pussy nice and warm and ready for me,” he comments, patting my ass gently.
He leaves me like that for an hour at least. I want to come so badly, but I can’t because there’s no clit stimulation, just the shameful position, and the fullness and the vibration. I know that complaining will do me no good. I just have to hope he takes pity on me and fucks me.
“Please,” I whimper finally.
“Please what, pet?”
“Will you fuck me, sir?”
He pauses for a minute, and I am sure he is going to say no. Then I hear him get up, and I feel him open the sliding portions of the desk, freeing me to climb through on hands and knees.
“Lie down on your front,” he says. “On the floor.”
I do as I am told and he covers me with his much larger body, spreading my legs and proceeding to fuck me prone on his office floor, my face still covered in his now dried semen as he removes the vibrator and fills the aching space with long, firm thrusts of his cock.
I whimper and cry and thank him like the captive I am. I am so relieved to be getting release, for my clit to be grinding into the carpet every time his thick, dominant cock sinks inside me.
He fucks me to an extremely competent orgasm, making me feel like the sex we just had was another demonstration of his control.
He didn’t need to fuck me. He had already used my mouth and satisfied himself.
The rutting on the floor was just for me, a series of physical demands placed on my body to force it into an orgasm that leaves me curled up naked, wearing his seed on both ends of my body.
He gets up immediately, standing over me tall and apparently impassive in his suit.
I look up at him, feeling filled and drained at the same time.
I try to appeal to his better nature, even though I know he doesn’t have one, and even though I am still feeling internal contractions from that orgasm that came on the heels of an hour of internal stimulation. He is wearing me out. Breaking me down.
“How long is this going to go on? You must be bored of it. You learn nothing.”
“This is not designed to teach me,” he smirks. “It’s designed to teach you. And when you are sufficiently trained, we will know all we need to know.”
When he lays his plan out that way, it’s obvious how he intends to break me. And he’s so confident in it working that he’s not even concerned about naming what he’s up to.
I have to convince him otherwise. And I have to do it before he succeeds, because there is part of me that is absolutely starting to crack under the pressure.
“My parents died when I was eleven,” I say.
“Ah. Another orphan,” Aiden says. There’s no awkwardness to his response. Usually when I tell people that, the person I’m talking to either feels sorry for me or wants to head for the hills to avoid the conversation. Aiden knows exactly what it’s like. Everybody here does.
“They died because BP had them killed,” I say.
“He took me in, on the condition that I made myself useful. I was given jobs to do. Mostly runner type jobs. He didn’t let anything very bad happen to me, but nothing good happened either.
I learned a lot working for him. He was his version of kind to me.
He paid for a boarding school, even. It wasn’t a good one, but it was somewhere to be. ”
I told Luke that I went through foster homes. It’s not entirely true. I didn’t want to tell him the whole truth of things right away. I didn’t want him to think I was a pawn of BP through and through.
Aiden is watching me the way a mongoose watches a cobra. He’s still, but ready to snap at any time. I know he won’t feel sorry for me. I’m giving him information he will probably use against me. Maybe I should stop talking.
I don’t like sharing my story. I don’t want to be known.
“Anyway,” I say, pushing through. “All of that help came with a price, you know?”
“I bet it did,” Aiden replies.
“I met Ted at a mixer,” I say. “And he was nice to me. Really nice. He was the first person I met who really didn’t seem to want anything from me that I didn’t want to give. He was cute, and his smile…” I trail off. “But they wanted to kill him, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.”
Aiden
It’s a pretty sad story, and I don’t know that I entirely believe it. In this life, it’s rare to encounter a perfect victim, someone who isn’t also guilty in some definitive and tangible way.
This meeting at a mixer glosses over a great many sins, I’d wager.
I have no doubt she was used as a honeypot.
And I am sure that somebody else would have been used to lure him if she was not.
She does not understand that these stories she is telling me have little bearing on my plans for her.
I care less about what happened in the past, and much more about what I am going to do to her in the future.
“You’re going to hate me forever, and the moment they can grab me, they will. I belong to him. That’s what he thinks.”
“BP is dead.”
“Is he? Are you sure? A lot of people try to kill him. I tried to kill him when I was thirteen. Right before I went to boarding school.”
I smirk. “How did you try to kill him?”
“I poisoned him, but I didn’t use enough. I was working in the kitchen and I put rat poison in his coffee.”
“And what did he do when he realized what had happened?”
“He killed the chef.”
“So he didn’t know it was you.”
“He knew. I thought I got away with it. He said someone had to die, and he chose the chef. But that now I owed him a life. I believed him.”
“And now?”
“And now I’m just… fucked up. And around more fucked-up rich men who think what they want is more important than what’s right or kind, so…
” She shrugs. “It doesn’t really matter, does it?
I can’t seem to get away from people like you.
I thought Teddy was my way out, but BP got him, and the rest of you are all the same. ”
“We are not the same.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re exactly the same.”
I crouch down in front of her naked, fucked body, and caress her cheek lightly.
“You are our sole captive, Ella. We are not here with dozens of girls. We do not take advantage of the innocent, and we do not traffic in flesh. If our brother had not been killed by the same man who corrupted you, then you would not have known a day in captivity. We followed you because we wanted to know who was responsible for Theodore’s passing, and while you have experienced some unique approaches to interrogation, we would never have touched you if you weren’t so involved. ”
She thinks about that for a moment.
“Leo hunted me down and found me in my room, and…”
“Yes. We are hunters. I am not telling you that we are good men. I am telling you that we are not the same kind of man as the one we are now hunting, and I am telling you that the man who killed your parents, and our brother, is dead.”
“Then can I eat like a normal fucking person?”
It is a good moment to push the point, one at which I am trying to define myself as something other than a complete monster.
“Do you think that the role you played in Teddy’s passing has been atoned for?”
I see storm clouds gathering in her eyes, and I know she is about to lash out.
“Fuck you,” she says.
How delightfully predictable. It’s quite cute.
She gets up and storms out of the room. I let her go.
She will learn that the leash and the paddle and the table with the stocks and even the bowl on the floor full of caviar and truffles were not what was really causing her pain.
What truly caused her agony was knowing what she did to deserve them—and that has not changed.
She will be back on her knees soon enough, and this time she will beg us to punish her.