Buy My Soul (Sixty Days 2)

I didn’t have an answer.

“You want our viewers to see your pussy taking its first real fucking pounding. Tell them.”

“Yes,” I managed. “Yes please, sir.”

“Say it.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. He spread my ass cheeks with rough hands and ran a finger over my asshole. I flinched but held. “I want the viewers to see me, sir.”

“You want the viewers to see your pussy stretched nice and fucking wide.”

“Yes, sir. I want the viewers to see my pussy stretched nice and wide.”

“You want them to see you hurting, don’t you? Like the dirty little whore I’m paying you to be.”

“Yes please, sir. I want them to see me hurting.”

I’d never spoken like this. The thought of the men listening and watching was enough to threaten tears.

Tears and something else.

“Like the dirty little whore you are,” he prompted.

“Like the dirty little whore I am, sir.”

I was beginning to feel like one. Beginning to feel like every bit the dirty little whore he wanted me to be.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he said, and rubbed me hard.

His fingers were strong against my clit, pressing tight against the spot. I shouldn’t want it. Shouldn’t rock back against his touch and whimper like a slut. I shouldn’t be craving what he had to give me for the sake of eyes around the world.

Shouldn’t want to please him the way I was desperate to please him.

I yelped when he slapped me. Hard. Right against my pussy.

I was still reeling when he forced his fingers inside me, enough that the stretch made me yelp again. The way he circled them deep had me groaning and moaning.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he growled, and I tensed around his thrusts. “Tight and fucking wet.”

I could hear how wet I was. Self-consciousness bloomed.

“Tell me how much you want my cock,” he said.

My cheeks were burning as I forced out the words. “Please, sir. Please give me your cock. I really want it.”

“Say it like you fucking mean it.”

“Please, sir. I want it. I really want it.”

“Like you fucking mean it!” he barked, and yanked his fingers away.

I felt so empty. I clenched on nothing. Wanting more.

I really did want more.

I wanted his thrusting body. His grunts of need. His dirty compliments.

I wanted to feel him come inside me.

Wanted to hear him grunting as he came.

“Please, sir. I want you so bad. I really need you inside me. Please, sir, I’ve wanted your cock since the night we first met.”

I wasn’t lying.

Two more slaps landed on my pussy, and my clit sparked and pained. I wasn’t expecting his hand to snake underneath me and tug at my nipples. I wasn’t expecting to feel the sparks shoot down between my legs.

“I’m going to use every part of you,” he said. “I’m going to hurt every part of you. Destroy every part of you. Take my fucking fill of every part of you.”

“Yes, sir,” I hissed. “Yes, sir, I understand, sir.”

I groaned as he rubbed at my clit all over again. His rhythm was brutal but faultless, sending me into a dither as I fought the urge to buck against him.

“Beg!” he barked. “Beg for my cock in that hungry little cunt.”

I could feel the cameras feasting on my body. I wondered how many people were watching this. How many people were tuning in to witness my first dirty pounding.

“Please, sir. Oh God, please, sir. Please. Fuck me…” My voice sounded so weak. So vulnerable. “Please, sir, please fuck my hungry little cunt.”

I didn’t hear him unbuckle his suit trousers. I felt the mattress shift just a beat before I felt the heat of him against my pussy lips from behind.

He didn’t take it slow.

I cried out loud as he slammed in all the way, my arms giving way and slamming my face to the covers as he grabbed my hips and thrust in deep.

“Take it,” he growled. “Take it like a good girl.”

It hurt.

He hurt.

The stretch was intense. Paining deep.

But I liked it.

Wanted it.

Wanted him.

I’d never been taken. Not like this. Never been taken with anything like the power he took my body with. I was his doll. His wanton little slut, even in my pain. I was his purchase. His toy. His dirty little girl opening her legs for more, despite herself.

“Look at the camera,” he told me. “Tell them how it feels.”

I focused my eyes on the nearest green light. “It hurts,” I whispered. “It hurts, but I like it.”

He took my hair in his fist and used it as leverage. His other hand wrapped around my throat and held me tight.

His body was hot and hard over me. The slap of his hips against my bare ass was loud and low.

“This cunt is mine,” he said.

I had nothing but a whimper.

The pain eased. The stretch felt good. Deep.

I moved to his rhythm, guided by his hands. And then he shifted.