033129
PAIGE
A heavy throb filled the darkness in my head, and my eyebrows flinched. It felt like my eyelids had been fused shut, and a dry noise ached in my throat.
Jolting suddenly, I realized something was . . . in my mouth.
Memories of where I was suddenly came flooding back in an instant, and horror took on a new, deplorable depth when my eyes shot open.
My cheek was resting on a lap while a tight grip held my jaw open. Salty, unwanted weight was resting in my mouth and I cried out around it, trying to squirm away.
It’s . . . oh God, it’s the Man’s— I gagged.
“Shh,” a voice slithered above me, and my spine stiffened.
Him.
My pulse detonated.
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.
No, no, no, no!
I tried to move again, and that’s when I realized my hands were tucked under my chin, strapped tightly to my chest.
A garbled whimper escaped as I fidgeted more, but between the restraints and his iron grip on my jaw, all I could do was shift my weight.
A whimper pushed through my nose when I noticed the fucker had taken the remaining bit of my clothing. The cotton material —the small bit of dignity— between my legs was gone. My body bucked, but my eyes bulged when my bare pussy brushed up against . . . something.
I could only move my eyes, so I lifted them to the outer corner of my vision, and cried when I saw my boyfriend’s face, chin tilted down, eyes closed.
Mortification wove through my aching bones, realizing my bottom half was resting on Linc, and I could feel now that the denim fabric beneath me was bunched around his thighs.
The Man pulled his pants down.
Oh my God. I whimpered again, my jaw trembling through the hand holding it open.
Suddenly, the Man’s other hand was casually petting my head, followed by another, “Shh.” He waited a moment, then said, “You put yourself in this position, Paige.”
My eyes slammed shut. I couldn’t be here. I couldn’t take the nonsensical rapist babble.
This can’t be happening.
This was violating in a way my brain couldn’t even comprehend. Shit like this existed in a world I didn’t know. Below freezing.
“I told you the rehearsal period would be about building trust. Linc followed directions. He did what was asked of him. After what he did for you, you couldn’t do the same?”
The cameras.
My eyes winced. I wanted to shut it all off.
With my head held captive on the Man’s lap, pressure built behind my eyes. My lips stretched, my mouth full— all I could do was breathe through my nose and try not to vomit.
My tongue lifted slightly to swallow, and I cringed when it grazed the velvet-like appendage in my mouth, but I suddenly realized . . .
The Man isn’t hard. And he didn’t seem to be making an effort to . . . arouse himself either. His soft dick was quite literally just sitting in my mouth, and I cringed.
A light curtain of blond hair covered my eyes, giving me a momentary break from seeing anything. But it was short lived when he brushed it away, and then quickly took his hand back again . . . like he didn’t really want to touch me.
My breath quickened just as he said, “The thing is, Paige, you can film a movie with anything. Even a camera phone.”
Heart bottoming out, my eyes bulged. For the first time, I let my gaze pull up, seeing the Man’s dark, insidious face holding a fucking phone over me. Filming me.
I screamed around the invasion in my mouth, the sound was muffled but loud, seeing as he was still prying my mouth open with his hand.
He gave a small, shallow thrust into my mouth and I gagged as the surge of nausea resurfaced. But I didn’t fucking vomit. More garbled sounds of my objection fell on demented ears as I felt drool starting to pour from the corner of my mouth.
Oh my God, oh my—
“We’re going to try this again,” the Man said, capturing my panic in the fist of his tone. “You told me once that you liked how specific I was with direction, so I’m going to be as thorough as possible this time.”
His patronizing drawl paled in comparison to the physical assault he was forcing on me, but it still pissed me off. He was fucking vile, but I had no choice but to continue to listen to him. “This is your punishment, Paige. And you’ve set us back, so now the rehearsal is going to be more about preparation and less about easing your comfort level. I’m going to take my hand away and you’re just going to take it in your mouth while we prepare for your scene.”
Rot in hell, pig.
The words prepare , rehearsal — comfort . Words I’d known my whole life sounded foreign coming from him. But the thought didn’t get farther than a prickly feeling before I became aware of his expectant eyes on me from above, the camera still hovering—all in my peripheral view from his lap.
So . . . as if it wasn’t totally fucking obvious, I couldn’t exactly respond.
As if hearing my silent seethe, he said, “I’m going to need an answer, Paige. You’ll refer to me as ‘Master.’”
Tears pooled in my eyes. Degradation was my plight, I suddenly remembered my own conclusion, and this confirmed it. I was supposed to call Linc “sir” and this fucker wanted me to answer him with his dick in my mouth.
An obvious and foul display of power.
If this wasn’t the seventh circle of hell, I wasn’t sure the place existed.
I never thought of myself as sheltered. I lived in a city, I went to art school—my parents were fucking dead. I understood that bad things happened.
But this is . . . proof, I thought.
Knowing bad things happened and experiencing them were entirely different entities. Knowing was a telescope, but experiencing was being caught on a fallen star while it tumbled into a black hole.
The Man cleared his throat, his bruising grip still on my jaw as he muttered, “If you can’t do as you’re told, just remember you’re not the only warm mouth in here.”
Bastard.
Fuck . . . no . . . Linc.
The weight under my hips began to shift and my racing pulse kicked up tenfold.
I could only see Linc if I angled my eyes up to the very corner. A shitty vantage point where I couldn’t see how he was restrained, but he was stirring, and I could see something was holding him back. Upright.
I slammed my eyes shut and the pounding punishment in my head intensified. This was my fault. My stupid move. I couldn’t let the Man do this to Linc.
Breathing heavily through my nose, more tears fell, adding to the puddle of drool on the Man’s lap. But my throat worked to swallow as best I could before my croaked, unintelligible voice said, “Yes, Master,” around him.
His satisfied sigh made me want to take it back instantly, but I kept my eyes on the dark, wiry hair around his belly button, imagining something similar was in his chest instead of a beating heart.
The fingers around my jaw finally released, but my body lurched when my lips naturally fell around him and I coughed.
“Suck until you get used to it,” he said with zero emotion, almost bored, and my fingers dug into my palms still tucked under my chin—it was just about the only movement I could make.
That and I could . . . wiggle my toes. On Linc.
So I did that.
Using my big toe, I traced the letters to our promise on his thigh.
T-I-L-L
T-H-E
E-N-D
I did it over and over, closing my eyes as I . . . followed the directions. I played my part as the degraded little whore, mumbling my incoherent response and then . . . sucking, cringing, proving my obedience just as I heard, “Holy fuck! Paige!”
Linc’s thunderous roar, his voice — the thought of him seeing this—all of it combined and catapulted me to the clouds.
I landed far away and sank into the soft cotton-like puff, using them like lily pads to hop along the night sky. Then I slipped into the crescent moon like a hammock.
Linc’s growls and yells, the degrading scene—it was farther away. I didn’t want to leave Linc, but I needed something to drown out the sound.
He’d understand.
On my stereo in the sky, I sifted through a playlist, and found a song I hated.
But I listened to it, in the curve of the moon. I sang it with hateful spits in my mind. I memorized it—backward like a broken turntable in a horror movie.
LINC
I could barely see through the crimson flashes blinding my vision.
But I didn’t need to see any more.
I had seen enough.
More than fucking enough.
“Paige,” I barked again, knowing she couldn’t answer me.
After a second, I thought I heard her make a noise. It sounded like she said something, but I couldn’t tell because . . .
God. Fuck. This was so fucked.
I couldn’t move anything other than my head and forearms. The bastard had put thick straps over my legs, just over my knees, and a tight, thick band over my chest and shoulders. So, I could use my arms but I couldn’t reach farther than right fucking in front of me.
I had already snarled, spit, and screamed for what felt like hours to get him to stop. The chilling nature of him sitting there, undisturbed and unbothered, only rattled my rage.
With my voice all but blown—the only sounds in the room were the ones from her mouth, and my ragged panting.
My weak muscles pulled against the restraints, but I couldn’t take a full breath. As the moment became too horrendous, I was certain I was about to actually combust.
When that didn’t happen, I croaked, “Jeremy.” The name felt foreign on my tongue—as much of an unknown entity as the guy who was violating my girlfriend right fucking next to me, and something inside me broke. “Please, stop this. Please. I’ll do anything.”
And I fucking meant it. We were in a lawless room and I meant it with every breath. I couldn’t take this. I couldn’t . . . watch this.
I dared a look at Jeremy’s face, hoping I saw something —anything merciful, but that’s when I saw the phone he was holding steadily over her. Was he . . .
“Are you fucking filming this?!” My voice was strained, barely audible from screaming. Pulling and shifting, I fought again against the belt around me when I suddenly felt a . . . softness brush against the tip of my dick.
My head whipped down to my lap and the thud of dread landed in my stomach.
I’d been too distracted by all the other despicable happenings that I hadn’t noticed . . . The most private part of Paige was completely bare and lined up with my dick. I choked on my breath. “Wh-What—”
“She cost the production a lot of money and time,” Jeremy cut me off. “She knows what she did, right, Paige?”
I blinked, forgetting for just a moment that there were so many things shaking my limbs.
The position he’d put us in, the position he’d put her in.
I couldn’t bring myself to look down at her on his lap again. I knew it made me weak, but just a second of the image when I first woke up took ten years off my life.
A muffled mumble came from Paige and my eyebrows pinched. She was saying something . . .
“Let her fucking talk, you sick fuck!” I roared hoarsely, my voice reviving the slightest bit.
“Fine,” he seethed. He put the phone down and then grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her mouth off of him. She coughed and spit, gasping to catch her breath.
“Pip—” I rasped, but any remaining sound got caught in my throat seeing her teary blue eyes, muted and . . . blank.
“Pip . . .” I whispered again.
Fuck.
I recognized the vacancy in her stare. I imagined I had a similar expression before when he made me kiss him, but this was . . . so much worse.
Worse than anything, I couldn’t protect her. I couldn’t haul her up in my arms and take her away. I couldn’t try to fight him off. Fuck, I couldn’t even hold her hand through it.
“Tell him,” the voice next to me said, as Paige still hauled in heavy breaths, her cheek resting on his thigh.
After another gulp, her shaky voice said, “This is my punishment for . . . b-breaking the cameras,” she whispered breathlessly. Jeremy’s grip on her hair tightened before she grit out, “Sir.”
My back froze. I had never heard her sound so . . . scared, so broken, so . . . not like her . And with nowhere to send my rage, I grit out, “I’ll do it.”
Paige’s eyes widened. It was almost as if something had landed back in her pupils and she shook her head.
Jeremy looked at me, his eyebrows lifting. “You’d take this punishment for her?”
The very idea made me gag. But watching this was killing me. Sputtering through some coughs, I swallowed hard before giving a jagged nod.
Jeremy looked intrigued, but then he sighed and after another moment, he pulled Paige back into him. Her mouth onto him. And my soul crushed further through the concrete floor.
“Tempting as that is, I’m afraid you have other work to do. She needs to be prepped.”
“What . . . I—” I stopped. There was no word—no combination of words that would explain what was happening right now.
“You said she’s a virgin, right?”
I shook my head. “I never told you that,” I seethed. Never.
“Yes you did. On our way to San Diego. Said you were dying to, but that she wanted to wait,” he said with an ease that daggered into my stomach.
My eyebrows scrunched and I tried to place the memory. But my mind couldn’t make it past the horror happening actively in front of me.
I would have never told him that, I assured myself. It wasn’t even true. Yes, I was dying to have sex with Paige, but I didn’t mind waiting . . .
And I certainly never wanted something like this.
A hiss from Jeremy’s teeth knocked me back to now as he said, “Though, she’s pretty good at this. You sure she’s never done it before?”
Holy fuck.
I would kill him one day.
One day, motherfucker. I’ll chop off your dick and feed it to you.
Unable to respond, I blinked at the dark spots in my vision as he said, “I’m going to pleasure you with my hand. Get you hard.”
Paige made a noise and I cringed as my chin tilted up to the ceiling. This was too fucking much. I felt like I was going to pass out. When I lowered my chin all I could say was, “Have at it, asshole. There’s no way I’ll get hard.”
Maybe I was feeling just a bit numb, but that was fucking true. Forget the fact I’d been drugged and had zero stamina just sitting here, but I had never been more disgusted in my entire life.
Jeremy let out a soft grunt, his hand brushing through Paige’s hair. He kept his eyes down on her as he said, “Well, I’m up for the challenge. Plus, she has to do this until we make that happen.”
Fucking Christ. The smell of the room soured.
There was no way. There was no fucking way this was happening.
“Maybe it will help that your job is to touch Paige,” he said.
My heart drained through my feet as Paige squirmed a bit, and the movement caused her pussy to brush up against me again. The instinctive tingle from the contact evaporated into the black hole of this room as my mind tried to swallow one nauseating demand after the other.
He’d touch me, while I touched her, while she did . . . that.
A train of abuse. A crooked recycling sign. The most vile thing.
My eyes scrunched shut. I needed to move this along. Paige was already suffering, but . . . I couldn’t . . .
“I won’t touch her. Not when she can’t tell me if it’s . . . if it’s okay.” The words scraped past my lips, my eyes staring down at my lap. Down where our bodies almost connected.
Maybe I was stalling. I knew in a different time, in a different place—galaxies away from this one—Paige would let me touch her.
She already had in some ways, and it’s all I wanted to do. I wanted to worship every inch of her beautiful body.
But not like this.
Never like this.
“Ah,” Jeremy gasped, pulling Paige off of him. Reminding me I had to get my fucking shit together.
She coughed, and the sound felt like a sandstorm blowing through my chest as a deep command came from my side. “Give him permission, Paige.”
Her body was trembling now. So was mine. Not just from rage, but because I was still fighting against the strap holding me back, the horrendous reality coursing through me.
“Y-You can touch me, s-sir,” Paige said quietly, just above a whisper.
Chest caving, my eyes scrunched at the sound of her voice. Her words. “Pip, please . . .”
I dared a glance at her, and my spine stiffened. There was this hardened look in her eyes that shook me to my core. She still lay on her side, her cheeks wet, her lips swollen, but she clenched her jaw through a swallow, a mindless glare staring straight ahead at our captor’s stomach.
Her lips shook as she said, “P-Please touch me, sir. I w-want you to.”
My heart was turning to dust. I could still see she wasn’t all there. And I didn’t blame her. I didn’t want to be here either. I wanted to be wherever she was.
She’d told me once that sometimes when she was acting, she had to go to this other place inside herself. To become someone else. Find the connection between herself and the character.
In this case, that connection was likely survival. I couldn’t be sure if that’s what was happening, but aside from the obvious assault she was enduring, it was the only reason I could think of for why she’d be going along with this.
“That’s good, Paige,” the voice next to me said, before carefully moving her mouth back to him.
My eyes slammed shut. Holy fuck. I had to pretend too. But I wasn’t a fucking actor. And this went beyond the spectrum of performance.
The “film” hadn’t even fucking started yet.
And my “role” seemed to be a dominant asshole who enjoyed assaulting and degrading women. A predator.
Eyes pulling to the man next to me, I looked at the living, breathing version of the part I was playing.
Ideas moved to shadows in my mind, they darkened, adjusted to the cooler temperature, and settled into the shade.
Maybe sinking into this role, this task, would be enough that I could find her, meet her —wherever she was. Maybe I’d been there already.
The snick of a bottle cap echoed through my mind, but I was wandering, searching. Looking for her, looking for the strength to do this. To survive this. Not just with our lives, but our minds.
A goopy, warm fist suddenly wrapped around my dick, making me jolt, and I hissed through my teeth. A small noise from Paige made me twitch in his hand, and I cringed inwardly.
“Oh, I think he likes hearing you, Paige.”
I shook my head. “N-No, I—” I stopped.
I pulled my lips into my mouth to keep myself from saying anything. Nothing I had to say right now was what my part in this completely fucked film we were preparing for would say. And if Paige was trying to escape this way, I wanted to give that to her.
The hand holding my flaccid length started to slowly move up and down. Warm, languid movements that had me digging my heels into the floor.
“Hold out your hand,” the voice next to me said.
My eyes were screwed shut, but I held out my hand as much as I could when I heard Paige gasp.
The grip on my cock disappeared for a moment and took my hand instead. I released a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
My eyes peeled open to see him lifting Paige’s upper body just a bit, which I could see now was being held by a similar belt-like restraint, but it kept her cuffed wrists just under her chin.
Her full, rosy lips were wet, same as her chin, and the side of her cheek lying on his lap. I wished so badly I could reach a little farther to wipe it all away.
The hand holding mine pulled it in front of her face as he said, “Suck.”
Her wide, bleak, distant eyes peered up at me. Dark indigo pools asked silently if it was okay, and it felt like kerosene to the burn in my chest.
Given what I was about to do to her, it seemed obvious she could do whatever she had to do to me, but I nodded. I couldn’t speak.
Her lips were shaking as she drew my fingers into her mouth. The familiar, soft feeling of her tongue shot involuntary warmth through my veins as she sucked my middle and ring fingers.
I blinked slowly, my throat bobbing, silent disgust rolled through me for any small wave of pleasure that came at her forced contact.
The voice next to me said something else, but I was doing my best to tune it out. It filtered back in when he said, “Tell her what a good job she’s doing, Linc.”
My molars ground painfully. “Good job,” I said, through clenched teeth.
He snorted. “Okay, we’ll have to work on the praise talk,” he sighed through a chuckle. His other hand took her chin, and pulled her mouth off my fingers. “What do you say, Paige?”
Her big blue eyes were tear soaked and bloodshot as she timidly stared up at me, swallowing. “Thank you, sir.”
He gently twisted her face to look at him, and brushed some of her hair off of her face. “You really are being so good.”
So epically fucked. Slowly, mercilessly, he put her back into her position on his lap. I shut my eyes. I couldn’t watch him resume the punishment.
And I have to get hard.
It was gonna be fucking impossible.
“She got your fingers wet, Linc,” the voice next to me said, resuming his steady hand around my lifeless dick.
Just fucking kill me.
My hand shook as I reached out. The angle was weird with her on her side, but it was the least of my worries.
I was going to touch her there. For the first time.
Like this.
My eyes scrunched as I nestled my hand between her legs, not quite at the apex, but I just rested my hand there for a second.
Flashes of our childhood —innocent times— rolled through my mind in slow, painful ways, breaking my heart as the heat from my hand burned between her thighs.
She jolted at the touch with a small whimper, and my fingers dug into her soft skin.
This was degrading her on unspeakable levels. Being . . . used at both ends. Whatever roles we were playing —I don’t give a fuck. I needed her to know my touch wasn’t the same as his. It isn’t.
My hand gently rubbed. “I’ve only ever wanted to love you here.” My voice was nothing more than a gravelly whisper. But I hoped she could hear the sincerity, feel it in my hand.
I suddenly became aware of her light breaths. Her mouth must have been free and my eyes cut over to her. She wasn’t staring straight ahead—her eyes were angled toward me, her gaze gripping mine.
There was this harrowing awareness that flit through her expression, but it just as quickly dissipated, and the shield resumed.
She swallowed, then rasped, “We’re just playing parts, sir.”
My fingers clenched harder on her thigh. I knew she was doing what she had to do—saying what she had to say—but the destruction through my chest was devastating.
The voice next to me said, “Good, Paige. You’ve earned a break while we get started.”
Well, thank all holy fuck for that, at least. The smallest breath of relief loosened the muscles bunching in my shoulders. With her mouth free for the moment, I just had to cooperate. Get through this.
“We’re just playing parts.”
But the problem was, the only way I even had a chance of rising to the occasion— was through her.
Her body. Her warmth.
Her, her, her.
Suddenly, her thighs clenched around my hand, still resting between them, pulling my eyes back to her.
She wiggled her hips as much as she could, and my eyebrows pinched. It registered then, that she was trying to help me. Not only was she playing her part, but she was trying to help me play mine.
Her. The one being openly abused, was trying to make this easier on me. My teeth clenched. Borrowing some of the determination from her stare, I started to move my hand a little farther up her thigh. With unblinking eyes, I watched her face—watched for any indication I should stop.
With locked gazes, I felt us —Linc and Paige— zooming out, allowing these people to adjust and focus into this horror show.
This moment wasn’t ours. It was theirs. His.
Just a puppet, I told myself. My fingers finally grazed her entrance, and she gasped as I ran my finger up and down her crease. The warm sensation got the better of me, and a breathy grunt pushed past my lips.
She wasn’t wet, but she was so, so warm. So perfect.
Don’t hurt her. The words echoed from deep within me.
“L-Lube,” my voice shook out.
I pulled my hand from her, and held it out. I knew the bastard had some. He had already used it on me.
The moisture from her fingers was long gone due to the fact I was being a fucking pussy, and couldn’t get my shit together.
“Most boys don’t know what they’re doing down there the first time—the girl almost never comes. But you just want to make sure she’s stretched,” he said.
God, I have to find a way to shut out his voice.
Still, he squirted some of the substance onto my fingertips. I rubbed them together, and again met Paige’s glassy blue eyes as my hand resumed its place. Gently, I pressed into her—just a little bit—just to spread some of the lube.
But the wetness, the heat. Her. I felt fucking dizzy. “Oh, God,” I moaned, but clenched my teeth.
My dick twitched and I hated myself even more.
Not me. Not me. Not me.
“Do I feel good, sir?” her voice was breathy. Like a practiced scene partner, she was guiding me back to the moment. Our task.
She sounded completely unlike Paige, but then I guess that was the point.
This wasn’t us.
We are safe, down below.
She rocked her hips ever-so-slightly against my touch, and pushed my finger a little deeper, just past the knuckle. Pulling my lips into my mouth, I practically moaned,“You feel like heaven, Pip,” and then cringed.
Not us. Not us. Not us.
But Goddammit, she did feel like heaven. Not that I was sure such a place even existed —even less so after this— but if it did, it felt like her. Warm, safe, cherished . . . home.
PAIGE
Linc’s finger sank inside me and I bit my lip to stifle a small noise. His hands, his touch—they felt so good.
But he was breaking. I could see it.
His wide hazel eyes looked completely shattered as he moved his finger in and out of me—cringing his way through it.
It’s the circumstance, I’d told myself. I knew that. But something about seeing him so uncomfortable touching me was giving me such a hollow feeling of dejection, the shame started to rattle my resolve.
We just have to get through this.
Play our parts.
Survive.
Then, therapy.
Fucking lots of it.
But for now, I had to be strong. I had to help Linc in whatever way I could. It might have been my body being violated, but I knew the boy currently touching me tenderly, lovingly, wouldn’t be doing this if he had any other choice.
He’d made that clear earlier when he offered to take my place for my “punishment.” And I had felt the same way when the Man had forced Linc to kiss him.
I think something about surviving our own pain seemed easier than witnessing each other’s. Which is why, when the Man moved his hand to Linc’s lap and started stroking him again, I tensed.
Linc’s breath was raking through his teeth, his hand between my legs pausing as his own molestation began, but he ground out, “Are you okay?”
I nodded, unable to give him a verbal answer.
Using my obedient sex-bot voice seemed to be going well with Professor Pervert. I had been trying to use it to sink into this depraved scene he was forcing us to participate in, but Linc made it too . . . real.
I’m just . . . not that good of an actress, I guess.
Not with him. And this isn’t fucking acting.
I found it strange I had to keep reminding myself of that. Somewhere in the abuse I’d just endured, I had accepted this was happening.
But just like all things, the reality of that acceptance was heavy and tasted sour.
I took a breath, and focused on Linc’s touch, the gentleness of his finger.
“I only ever wanted to love you here.”
In a far-from-tender moment, it was a beautiful thing to say. And I knew it was true.
Even like this. Even in this room. His touch was love.
Suddenly, Linc added another finger and it brushed inside me in a way that made me tremble. The lube he was using had some sort of warming agent and that, coupled with the knowledge it was his hand, was helping me relax.
There was still hesitancy to his touch, and my hips moved against him. I wanted to give him reassurance it was okay.
The pitch-black area of life we found ourselves in was confusing and vile for a multitude of reasons. One of them being that we were attracted to each other.
We loved each other. I had wanted him to touch me like this so many times—but this . . .
He added his thumb to the mix, circling my clit, and I gasped, “Ohh,” as my fingernails dug into my palms again.
It felt . . . good. And the shame in that alone nearly swallowed me whole.
But fuck, after what had felt like hours of degrading contact, to feel something soft —reverent, even— felt like a power paddle to my soul.
“You feel like heaven, Pip.”
I pushed myself into his touch, deepening his fingers. It stung a little, but the connection was worth it. It felt like we were doing something behind the curtain of this disgusting scene. Something that only existed in the intimate contact of him inside me.
The Man surprised me when he didn’t pull my mouth back to him, but instead sat me up on Linc. The shackles around my ankles provided enough give I could straddle him, but my eyes shot down, aware that my face was probably a mess.
I could feel drool on my chin and cheeks.
Dirty.
Linc slid his fingers out of me and a small, embarrassing whine escaped at the loss. His restraints only allowed him a small bit of movement, so he placed his hands on my hips, his fingers digging in.
My eyes locked with his as he rasped, “Kiss me.”
I leaned down, giving him my lips—lips I couldn’t believe he wanted. But he sunk into my mouth like a sanctuary. His tongue moved in slow, savoring movements along mine.
Tears bit the back of my eyes as our mouths moved together, breathing in each other’s strength. I was nearly certain the true horror of this night was just getting started, but the relief of being in front of him, kissing him—I gave everything I had to him.
“Keep touching her, Linc,” the Man said, interrupting our moment.
But it isn’t our moment.
Linc’s kiss was a bandage, just like mine had been when the Man kissed him. An attempt to reclaim each other. And there was something reassuring about that. That in the darkness, we were still finding a way to comfort each other.
We’ll get through this.
The Man’s hand snaked between us, resuming his hold on Linc’s cock, and I gasped. “I’m giving you a second chance,” the Man said, his voice quiet, but authoritative, just beside us. “I’ve stopped your punishment early. Don’t make me regret it.”
I knew better than to ask why, and I wanted to do anything in my power to avoid it from resuming.
But the Man is touching Linc . . .
I kept my eyes on my boyfriend’s face as his hand tensed at my entrance. I could see the small beads of sweat at his temples. The agony etched between his brows fell to his eyes—which had been stripped of any brown and were a flaring, intense green.
I could see it all. Being touched like this right in front of me, being forced to touch me while it happened —it was killing him.
He definitely had the more difficult job right now, but I had no clue how to help him.
I wouldn’t let my eyes drop to his cock. Not unless I had to, and not without his permission. But since the Man’s arm was visible, I was able to see the . . . pace he was touching Linc.
I adjusted myself—it was difficult to keep my balance on Linc’s lap with my arms strapped to my chest, but his other hand was still on my waist, steadying me.
Once I readjusted, our eyes locked again, a collision of wild, terrified brokenness. But together.
Till the end.
I saw the message sink into his stare too, and I took a breath. “Trust me, sir?”
His eyebrows pinched. Still disturbed by the “sir” bit, as was I, but he nodded, “’Course I do.”
I nodded too, leaning down to kiss him again. I used his mouth to strengthen my nerve, and then rolled my hips into his touch, slowly working myself on his fingers. I kept it slow, trying to match my own rhythm to that of the Man’s hand, and Linc responded.
His lips pressed harder against mine, but another hand invaded —the Man— pulling Linc’s chin.
“Enough,” he simply said, and then dragged Linc’s face to his, literally stealing his lips from me. Linc fought as much as he could. His fingers from one hand dug into my thigh, while the ones moving inside me halted.
I should have known this was too good to be true.
And that was saying something, seeing as good still wasn’t fucking great.
As Linc tightened his lips, the Man held his nape, and pulled back slightly. “Come on, Linc. Didn’t you tell me two guys turned her on?”
Scum. Fucking filth.
His manipulation didn’t even have finesse for how deranged he seemed to be. He was even further down the rabbit hole if he thought for one fucking second I was buying Linc had told him any of this.
Me being a virgin — or anything about my sexual experience. Fantasies.
I don’t know how he knows any of that, but it wasn’t because Linc told him.
It all boiled just below my skin, but then I saw the Man’s lips were about to connect with Linc’s, and instantly, I channeled into my role. “M-Master?” My voice came out shaky, not from fear but rage, as I met the Man’s eyes.
Dark, glittering madness stared back at me. I noticed he had stopped touching Linc for the moment and I took a relieved breath. Linc’s fingers were still inside me, but just barely, just resting there —connected— and I found myself grateful.
Except I had no plan. I just wanted to stop the Man from kissing Linc, but I didn’t have another suggestion, and the Man looked impatient staring back at me. “If you can’t be good, Paige, we can find a way to occupy your mouth.”
Linc shook his head and without warning his fingers plunged farther inside me, as he slammed his face into the Man’s, kissing him like he could kill him that way.
His fingers moved more aggressively, no doubt needing the contact, and I tried to give it to him. Strange as it felt to rock into his hand while this was happening, that’s what I did. All I could do was let him know I was here.
Suddenly his thumb reentered with a featherlight touch on my clit, and a whimper punched out of me at the small swirl low in my stomach.
Jesus. This was so . . . fucked.
Was I so weak that the depravity of this room had found a way to seep into my pores already? Were my lungs already polluting my brain with the sick fumes?
How I felt any pleasure at all was beyond me, and I cringed. But Linc must have felt my walls tightening, because he did it again, and I slammed my eyes shut, choking on my breath, “S-S—”
So good? Stop?
Both felt wrong. All of this felt wrong. Why was my body reacting this way?
Maybe my sex-bot doppelganger was returning. I hoped that was it. Otherwise I feared that something was shifting in me, something I didn’t want moved to a dark and ominous corner.
And oh, God. I didn’t want Linc to think watching this was turning me on, but his fingers were fucking demanding. “S-Sir, I—” I gasped.
I thought the use of the name would make him slow down, but Linc’s fingers moved ruthlessly. He’d found my spot, and now he was crooking his fingers and moving them along it with a hypnotic cadence.
I sucked my lips into my mouth, reopening my eyes when I heard the Man say, “See, she’s already purring.”
“Fuck—” I bit down on my cheek to keep myself from saying fuck you to the man who had no problem sticking his wet noodle dick in my mouth.
“No more kissing,” the Man said. “Just watch each other.” His hand moved back between us, back on Linc. I could tell when he made contact because Linc winced, but again moved his fingers inside me.
His stare was such a mix of things—but I could barely register anything over the intense rage, and I gasped. Something . . . something was gone. And for the first time tonight, I was worried we wouldn’t be able to get it back.
LINC
My vision had tunneled. All I could see was the long, winding, dark path we had to lead and I tried to lose myself to the sensations.
The sight. Her blue eyes, wide, the rosy tint to her cheeks—the way she was pinning her lip to keep herself quiet while I slid my fingers in and out of her.
The sounds. Or maybe I should say the restraint of her sounds. She’d make a small squeak, or a breathy sigh every few seconds and each time, I’d imagined what the finished noise would sound like. It was like they only existed for us, and each imagining swelled the arousal stirring.
But God, fuck. Her plush warm walls, the way they were tightening around my fingers —the feel of her getting wet. I underestimated the . . . effect it would have on me.
My dick was half mast just from feeling her, hearing her—knowing I was making her feel good in a room where good went to die.
“That’s power, Linc,” the voice next to me said just over my ear, and I winced.
Tune it out.
He was taking my silent, and what I could only imagine was a worshiping expression, and warping them to fit whatever fucked narrative we were playing out for him.
I shook my head, refocusing on her, but that became more difficult when he leaned toward her, using his free hand to pull her chin to look at him. “You’re being so good for him, Paige,” he said, tracing his thumb along her lips before pushing the tip of it inside her mouth.
Her throat worked to swallow but she kept it in her mouth, and I used my fingers to brush the spot inside her that made her tremble. Her eyes shot back to me, gasping as much as she could, wobbling, since she couldn’t really hold herself up with the belt around her.
“She’d be better if she could use her hands,” I grumbled, but my eyes widened. That sounded wrong . . .
The voice next to me chuckled, confirming my fear, but then he said, “Can I remove the belt, Paige? Will you still behave?”
With his thumb still in her mouth, she waited a beat, then nodded, and his hand tightened on her chin. “Answer.”
“Yes, Master,” she garbled.
He took his hand from me, and I gasped with relief as he stood. There was no time for us to make silent plans or promises, just a sustained gaze between Paige and me. As Jeremy moved behind her, he twisted what appeared to be a key to unlock the belt, but she still had handcuffs on.
My face scrunched, scrutinizing her wrists. They were so raw and torn—bloody. Mine were banged up too, but I hadn’t been cuffed since we woke back up—just strapped.
I hadn’t noticed he’d pulled up a chair behind her. “Let’s reward her obedience, shall we?”
I hated it. All of it. His smirk. His position right behind her. He’d pulled his sweatpants up, but that didn’t mean anything. What I hated most of all was the insinuation that we were somehow doing this together.
Unable to say anything that my role would say, I ground my teeth together as his arms snaked around her naked torso, his hands roaming her stomach.
She leaned into me, away from him, and it pushed her pussy back against my hand. She gasped as she raised her arms up and over me so that the chain to her cuffs were behind my head, on the back of the couch, her arms caging me in.
“Keep touching her, Linc, or I’ll have to take over,” he said from behind her, his big slimy hands touching her—inches away from my face—and when his fingers tweaked her nipple, a predatory wave pummeled through me.
I used my one hand to grab her hip, pulling her closer, as I teased her entrance with the other. Dipping my finger inside, I leaned into her, sucking her nipple into my mouth, nibbling, growling, “Mine,” through clenched teeth, with a sudden rush of voracity.
I’m not sure what it was—maybe it was him touching her right in front of me, the threat of him “ taking over. ” Maybe it was the countless ways he’d violated us both, or maybe I was just reaching some sort of carnal breaking point, but possession took over.
I moved my finger in and out of her with a liveliness I couldn’t muster before, and she gasped, “Yes, sir. Yours.”
Buffy fucking bless . She was meeting me on this hill of depravity. Even if we died here.
Till the end.
Jeremy had moved closer, his hand pulled around Paige —between us and freshly lubed— he started moving up and down on me again. I groaned, sucking Paige’s nipple into my mouth.
God, she tasted even better than I imagined.
A surprise came when I felt another large hand reaching around Paige to hold my jaw, pushing my face deeper, settling between her tits.
And holy fuck. The smell of her. Even the musky scent of the room clinging to her body couldn’t hide the spicy citrus combination that lit me the fuck up.
I couldn’t be sure if it was my face burying in her skin, or if it was easier to lose myself to sensation because I couldn’t see him. Maybe it was my swell of fight that had reignited some adrenaline, but I started to . . . respond.
My dick hardened in the hand moving up and down on it, and my hips gave uneven, involuntary thrusts as my thumb found her clit again.
“That’s it,” the voice rumbled from behind her like a cloak of perversion over her back.
Tune it out.
His grip on my chin made it difficult, but I pulled my eyes up to her. Another zap of arousal shot through me when I saw she was already looking down at me
With her chained hands still on each side of my head, she moved one to my nape and tugged, tilting my chin up, which resulted in Jeremy’s other hand, the one that had been holding my face, falling.
She smirked.
Just like she was mine. I was hers.
I returned it with a weak pinch at the corner of my lips, enjoying her quiet defiance until—
Slap.
Her body jolted, falling forward a bit as her pussy clenched on my fingers, but I was trying to figure out what happened.
“That was a warning, Paige,” the voice said. “Next time it’ll be a belt.”
My nostrils flared. He fucking spanked her ?!
I wished I could snap through this belt and use it to beat him unrecognizable.
More unrecognizable.
“Sorry, Master,” she mumbled, her body still tightened from the strike. My fingers moved along her, inside her. It was the only thing I could fucking do, and she swiveled her hips into my touch.
Her blue eyes met mine, tears teetering on the edges, just as the hand on my length picked up speed.
I choked on my breath, unprepared, but my free hand moved from her hip to her ass—fingers stretching as far as it could, anyway—and I rubbed where the skin was still warm from his slap.
She moved with my hand, and my grip on her ass tightened, still rubbing.
“Thank you, sir,” she said quietly, pressing a small kiss to my neck, but pulling back immediately, probably remembering that he said no more kissing.
But fuck it felt good. Almost normal.
And he seemed to let it slide.
But my mind was in shambles as I shook my head, the unrelenting fist he had around my cock—a hold that had my thumb again finding Paige’s clit and circling it. She bit down on her lip.
We kept at it. I wasn’t sure what the finish line was here—if this “preparation” was about getting me hard, it had surprisingly happened —she made it happen.
But it didn’t matter. None of this made sense. And I felt myself succumbing to the madness—almost like I needed to tie a rope around my waist, so as not to lose myself in the abyss of it all.
Abyss sounded like . . . relief. It sounded . . . fucking easier.
She felt incredible and I loved her, and if this was the only way I could show her right now, fuck me if I wasn’t going to give it to her.
Groaning as the pleasure heightened, the wet warmth squeezing my cock was matching the rhythm that she was rocking into my hand. She rolled her hips into my touch with a moan, and we both suddenly gasped.
Our eyes widened together.
We both fucking felt it.
The tiny pulses around my fingers, her walls quivering.
My eyes came to fucking life. “A-Are you gonna come?”
She released a sharp breath. Her eyes screwed shut, but her mouth dropped as she whimpered, and I felt the clench on my fingers again.
I leaned forward and drew her nipple into my mouth, teasing it with my teeth as her body bowed, and her eyes reopened.
My lips curled up, still flicking the pebbled flesh with my tongue, as her blue eyes blazed down at me. The rope —the tether— I’d been keeping myself on was slipping.
Another small noise she tried to pin between her teeth escaped before she breathed out, “D-Do you want me to come, sir?”
Fucking Christ. She sounded more like herself that time, and it swelled my erection into its tight warmth. A fist I was fully thrusting into, imagining it was her.
It was her as far as I was concerned.
The sound of her voice returning knocked any remaining sense I still had out of my fucking ears, and I choked out, “Yes.” I was lost, spinning, landing in a world where this was some sexy little game we were playing. “God, yes. Please, Paige. Please come for me,” I growled out.
“Linc, I—” she gasped.