I'll make it up to you." I know this could cost Kandy a client, and possibly me a chunk of the money he paid.
His lips spread into a wolfish grin, enjoying my pleading. "Yeah?" he asks, his voice deep, still full of his demanding ways. "Get on all fours, right now."
Quickly turning over, I get on my hands and knees for him. "Do not move," he barks out. I don't move, nor do I say anything.
He takes a few minutes, but before too long my ankles are being taped up. Then I feel what could possibly be rope around my thighs, but I don't look. It confirms my thought when he kneels in front of me, wrapping the rope around my wrists, tying it my legs. I don't feel good about this situation, especially after he was so careless with my hair earlier- but he didn't strike me, so I keep my mouth closed. He rips off another piece of duct tape, covering my lips. I hate that I don't have a safe word now, which was supposed to be one of the stipulations- of both of us.
Mr. Belvidere's mouth comes to my ear. "You're about to be punished." It isn't seductive, but it's certainly a promise. I close my eyes tightly, wishing that I never took this job after all. Maybe the money isn't worth it. Not if he is going to be cruel. I think in my head that this had to have been at least a half hour already, so I'm half way to walking back out this door with several months’ worth of spending money, and I'll never have to return.
Deep breath through my nose, a slow one out. I can do this, I tell myself.
It doesn't take long that he is behind me, kneeling at my rear end. He plays with me a little bit, and it takes everything in me not to squirm at his touch. Then he pushes something in me- something that is certainly not him. And he is rough... too rough.
It hurts.
I grit my teeth, shutting my eyes even tighter, and I do my best to focus on anything other than what is happening to me, except... I can't. I can't focus on one single thing other than how much it pains me.
After a few moments I feel something drip down my leg, and I'm almost certain I'm bleeding. He hasn't slowed down, he hasn't eased up, and I'm terrified that if I try to do anything about it, then I'll regret it. For that reason alone, I stay still.
He gets up, and walks away. I take this opportunity to take several deep breathes through my nose, but it is getting harder and harder to breath. I hadn't realized until now that I had a few tears falling from my eyes, but it's making my nose run too, and all in all, I think I may pass out soon.
When he's behind me again, I feel a strike against my bare skin. Not my butt either, but more on my hip. It stings worse than anything I've ever felt. A second later comes another whip against my skin. I can't keep silenced. An reverberation of a scream comes from my mouth, being blanketed by the tape. "Oh, you like that?" he asks. The fact he thinks I'm enjoying this proves him to be entirely moronic.
Actually, he’s straight to the definition of a sociopath.
Another strike comes down, this time in the same place as the last, and it burns rather than stings. I throw my body over to its side, curling myself up the best I can, not wanting to get hit again. I start shaking my head, hoping he can see I won't put up with this. I can't. It's against our policy, it was said he were to stop if I asked- yet the way he looks over at me, I would assume he could care less.
I can't describe the look on his face, something between completely pissed off and entirely too aroused. He steps forward, towering over me. I haven't felt this lost and confused since the day I found my parents lying dead in their bedroom all those years ago. The little girl inside of me claws its way out, whimpering and pleading for this to end. He doesn't see it, or he simply doesn't care.
What happens next is more painfully horrifying then anything I could care to admit. All I know is I'm walking out of this hotel with bruises and cuts, head to toe. Over an hour longer than I
His lips spread into a wolfish grin, enjoying my pleading. "Yeah?" he asks, his voice deep, still full of his demanding ways. "Get on all fours, right now."
Quickly turning over, I get on my hands and knees for him. "Do not move," he barks out. I don't move, nor do I say anything.
He takes a few minutes, but before too long my ankles are being taped up. Then I feel what could possibly be rope around my thighs, but I don't look. It confirms my thought when he kneels in front of me, wrapping the rope around my wrists, tying it my legs. I don't feel good about this situation, especially after he was so careless with my hair earlier- but he didn't strike me, so I keep my mouth closed. He rips off another piece of duct tape, covering my lips. I hate that I don't have a safe word now, which was supposed to be one of the stipulations- of both of us.
Mr. Belvidere's mouth comes to my ear. "You're about to be punished." It isn't seductive, but it's certainly a promise. I close my eyes tightly, wishing that I never took this job after all. Maybe the money isn't worth it. Not if he is going to be cruel. I think in my head that this had to have been at least a half hour already, so I'm half way to walking back out this door with several months’ worth of spending money, and I'll never have to return.
Deep breath through my nose, a slow one out. I can do this, I tell myself.
It doesn't take long that he is behind me, kneeling at my rear end. He plays with me a little bit, and it takes everything in me not to squirm at his touch. Then he pushes something in me- something that is certainly not him. And he is rough... too rough.
It hurts.
I grit my teeth, shutting my eyes even tighter, and I do my best to focus on anything other than what is happening to me, except... I can't. I can't focus on one single thing other than how much it pains me.
After a few moments I feel something drip down my leg, and I'm almost certain I'm bleeding. He hasn't slowed down, he hasn't eased up, and I'm terrified that if I try to do anything about it, then I'll regret it. For that reason alone, I stay still.
He gets up, and walks away. I take this opportunity to take several deep breathes through my nose, but it is getting harder and harder to breath. I hadn't realized until now that I had a few tears falling from my eyes, but it's making my nose run too, and all in all, I think I may pass out soon.
When he's behind me again, I feel a strike against my bare skin. Not my butt either, but more on my hip. It stings worse than anything I've ever felt. A second later comes another whip against my skin. I can't keep silenced. An reverberation of a scream comes from my mouth, being blanketed by the tape. "Oh, you like that?" he asks. The fact he thinks I'm enjoying this proves him to be entirely moronic.
Actually, he’s straight to the definition of a sociopath.
Another strike comes down, this time in the same place as the last, and it burns rather than stings. I throw my body over to its side, curling myself up the best I can, not wanting to get hit again. I start shaking my head, hoping he can see I won't put up with this. I can't. It's against our policy, it was said he were to stop if I asked- yet the way he looks over at me, I would assume he could care less.
I can't describe the look on his face, something between completely pissed off and entirely too aroused. He steps forward, towering over me. I haven't felt this lost and confused since the day I found my parents lying dead in their bedroom all those years ago. The little girl inside of me claws its way out, whimpering and pleading for this to end. He doesn't see it, or he simply doesn't care.
What happens next is more painfully horrifying then anything I could care to admit. All I know is I'm walking out of this hotel with bruises and cuts, head to toe. Over an hour longer than I
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