Poor Little Rich Slut by Lizbeth Dusseau

ordered.
    I heard the sound of him removing one pair of gloves and replacing them with another. Another swipe of disinfectant cloth cooled my crevice again. Again, I felt him tug the hood of my clitoris and, while my body was tempted to seize up, I stared into Angelica’s eyes and focused on the way her soft lips skirted mine, the way her tongue lingered over them and explored my parted mouth. Our tongues met and danced erotically together, making me almost forget what Garrison was preparing to do. I’d begun to drift on the sweetness of her tender lips, when a sudden pain shocked my body and made me to flinch for one long horrible second. The sharp sensation subsided quickly and a pleasurable sensation followed, along with the appalling realization that I’d actually been pierced.
    Garrison continued with this work, while I let this realization settle deep. I could not yet understand what it meant. Was this for pleasure? Or was there some symbolic meaning in the act? Was Garrison claiming me, or simply making me a better toy?
    The questions were easy to come by, but the answers not as obvious.
    Angelica continued with her ardent kisses, smiling knowingly, while I became vaguely aware that Garrison had moved his attention lower, to that spot just beyond my vagina were I found my physical body most sensitive. He pulled the flesh there and a ripe, warm feeling traveled through me, touching every nerve—nothing sharp or explosive about this, but pure erotic pleasure added to my aroused state.
    I trembled with fear, knowing that another bright burst of pain would send another shockwave through me. But my fear did not supplant my arousal; it only amplified what happened next.
    As I anxiously awaited that next shocking pain, I poured myself into Angelica’s lips, kissing her with the same eagerness as she kissed me. Any second I could imagine her climbing on my body and making love to me while I returned the favor. But suddenly, a sharp burning sting rifled through me, as a needle pierced my flesh for a second time. It was as rough as the first pierce, although the initial pain subsided as quickly.
    Angelica immediately backed off with Garrison pulling her aside.
    “Good work, girl,” he said, patting her on the butt.
    “You let me cum with her again, huh?” she sweetly asked.
    “We’ll see, slut.” His eyes danced over her as if he was in love, but then he quickly diverted his attention to me, giving me the same lusty, adoring gaze. “You okay?” he asked.
    “I’m wonderful,” I said in a dreamy sort of trance, “but what did you do?”
    “You’re pierced.”
    “Yes, I know that. But…”
    “I did the same pierce to a woman several years ago… quite useful.”
    Useful? How?
    “For right now, it’ll be enough for you to get used to the sensation of having the two rings there. You’ll have a good six weeks of keeping them meticulously clean. By then, I’ll be back from Japan and it will be my turn to enjoy them.”
    “ Japan ? You’re going to Japan !”
    “Daddy’s orders, darlin’. One of those crises that only I can fix. Meanwhile, you’ll get exactly what you want – Country Manor is all yours. It’s sink or swim, sweetheart. My meddlesome fingers will be stirring someone else’s pot.” He seemed to take great joy in mocking me, while I lay on the granite counter like the plundered spoils of war—savagely taken then tossed away.
    ***
    Garrison Tate totally fucked with my life and left me hanging! What kind of no good louse was he anyway? Fucking scoundrel! Demented sadist!
    Dammit! My body ached in every place possible… from the steaming contractions in my belly, to my quivering cunt, to my violated asshole, to the rings that started it all, that viciously throbbed with every move I made.
    Garrison recommended I wear plain, cotton, breathable panties, especially since, with him gone, I wouldn’t be seductively baring my pussy for anyone else. Or, if I really wanted to, I could go