the slats and gathers it in a messy ponytail. With quick fingers, he ties it up and out of the way. When he steps away, I close my eyes knowing what comes next. The snap of the padlock clasping into place sends a rush of anxiety galloping through me.
Go to a happier place.
I don’t have to see him to know that he’s walked around behind me. Rubbing my thighs together, I attempt to turn myself on some in hopes it’ll make the whole process easier to endure. When he touches my ass, I squeak out in surprise.
His laugh is cold and cruel. “You act like you’ve never done this before, doll. And while I appreciate your attempt at feigning innocence, we both know you’re well aware of what’s about to happen. In fact, I want you to instruct me on what to do.”
Tears threaten but I blink them away. “Uh, okay. Well, you need to apply some lube to the anal hook first.”
A pop of a cap behind me chills the blood in my veins. His heavy breathing is in cadence with mine. “And then?”
“Insert it into my ass,” I say in a whisper. “Dios mío, dame fuerza.” Dear God, give me strength.
“Remember, your God isn’t here, doll.” He’s surprisingly gentle as he pushes the bulbous head of the hook past the tight rings of my asshole. Once it makes it beyond the opening, my body seems to suck it all the way in. I let out a gasp at which he chuckles.
“Now,” I instruct with a wobble to my voice, “attach the chain to the end and bring it over the top of the guillotine to my hair.”
The cold, thin chain slinks along my spine and goosebumps rise all over my flesh. He’s not as gentle as he ties the chain around the bun in my hair. It tugs not only my hair but at the hook inside of me.
“Ah!” I yelp out and then let out a rush of relieved breath when he releases the chain. “Uh, then, well, what do you want to do with my mouth?”
“Hmmm,” he says thoughtfully and rounds the contraption so that he’s standing in front of me, still in his work slacks. “I feel like gagging you. What do you want to be gagged with today?”
He starts undressing and I attempt to come up with the least brutalizing answer.
“Your cock. Fuck my face with your cock,” I suggest, a little too eagerly.
As if answering me, his thick, proud dick bounces heavily from his boxers as he shoves them down his thighs. Once he’s completely naked, he strides over to me. With no warning, he pokes the tip of his cock against my parted lips and then shoves himself all the down my throat.
I gag and fist my hands but I’m helpless against his assault. I’m trying to relax my throat to take his enormous size when he grabs on to the chain in my hair. A scream hums through me around his thick length as he jerks at the chain over and over again. It’s not that it necessarily hurts, but I hate the fact that I worry about what sort of damage he could inflict if he pulls too hard.
Instead of focusing on what I can’t control, I close my eyes and focus on the past.
Go to him.
To your mental safety net.
“I need to see Donovan.” My tone is clipped and cool. Darcy—with her platinum blonde hair, red razor claws, and long legs—is a real irritant. Every time I come to visit him, she has trouble keeping the plastic smile on her face.
For me, she sneers.
For me, she glares.
For me, she lets the ugliness hiding under the pretty façade show.
She clearly has other thoughts about her boss—my stepfather—besides those that include employee and superior. And it pisses me off more than I care to admit. Not because he belongs to Mamá. Not at all. In fact, I’m quite frustrated with my mother’s behavior since her marriage to Donovan. Even though I was shocked at their sudden nuptials, I soon realized he was simply a placeholder. Someone to fill a spot so we wouldn’t be lonely. They slept in different bedrooms from the beginning. And while they never argue—they actually seem to like each other, often tag-teaming against me when
Go to a happier place.
I don’t have to see him to know that he’s walked around behind me. Rubbing my thighs together, I attempt to turn myself on some in hopes it’ll make the whole process easier to endure. When he touches my ass, I squeak out in surprise.
His laugh is cold and cruel. “You act like you’ve never done this before, doll. And while I appreciate your attempt at feigning innocence, we both know you’re well aware of what’s about to happen. In fact, I want you to instruct me on what to do.”
Tears threaten but I blink them away. “Uh, okay. Well, you need to apply some lube to the anal hook first.”
A pop of a cap behind me chills the blood in my veins. His heavy breathing is in cadence with mine. “And then?”
“Insert it into my ass,” I say in a whisper. “Dios mío, dame fuerza.” Dear God, give me strength.
“Remember, your God isn’t here, doll.” He’s surprisingly gentle as he pushes the bulbous head of the hook past the tight rings of my asshole. Once it makes it beyond the opening, my body seems to suck it all the way in. I let out a gasp at which he chuckles.
“Now,” I instruct with a wobble to my voice, “attach the chain to the end and bring it over the top of the guillotine to my hair.”
The cold, thin chain slinks along my spine and goosebumps rise all over my flesh. He’s not as gentle as he ties the chain around the bun in my hair. It tugs not only my hair but at the hook inside of me.
“Ah!” I yelp out and then let out a rush of relieved breath when he releases the chain. “Uh, then, well, what do you want to do with my mouth?”
“Hmmm,” he says thoughtfully and rounds the contraption so that he’s standing in front of me, still in his work slacks. “I feel like gagging you. What do you want to be gagged with today?”
He starts undressing and I attempt to come up with the least brutalizing answer.
“Your cock. Fuck my face with your cock,” I suggest, a little too eagerly.
As if answering me, his thick, proud dick bounces heavily from his boxers as he shoves them down his thighs. Once he’s completely naked, he strides over to me. With no warning, he pokes the tip of his cock against my parted lips and then shoves himself all the down my throat.
I gag and fist my hands but I’m helpless against his assault. I’m trying to relax my throat to take his enormous size when he grabs on to the chain in my hair. A scream hums through me around his thick length as he jerks at the chain over and over again. It’s not that it necessarily hurts, but I hate the fact that I worry about what sort of damage he could inflict if he pulls too hard.
Instead of focusing on what I can’t control, I close my eyes and focus on the past.
Go to him.
To your mental safety net.
“I need to see Donovan.” My tone is clipped and cool. Darcy—with her platinum blonde hair, red razor claws, and long legs—is a real irritant. Every time I come to visit him, she has trouble keeping the plastic smile on her face.
For me, she sneers.
For me, she glares.
For me, she lets the ugliness hiding under the pretty façade show.
She clearly has other thoughts about her boss—my stepfather—besides those that include employee and superior. And it pisses me off more than I care to admit. Not because he belongs to Mamá. Not at all. In fact, I’m quite frustrated with my mother’s behavior since her marriage to Donovan. Even though I was shocked at their sudden nuptials, I soon realized he was simply a placeholder. Someone to fill a spot so we wouldn’t be lonely. They slept in different bedrooms from the beginning. And while they never argue—they actually seem to like each other, often tag-teaming against me when
Similar Books
