Buy My Soul (Sixty Days 2)

That made her seethe. Her moans were heaven as the pain hit.

She wasn’t expecting me to spit in her open mouth. Her retch was instinct, eyes like saucers as I hacked up a fresh mouthful and did it over again. Next time was in her eyes.

“Sluts take what they’re given,” I said, and my hips rolled, the length of me straining for the depths of her through my suit. “Say fucking thank you!”

She could barely say a fucking word with her splayed open mouth. Her attempt was enough to tighten my swollen fucking balls.

“Thannnyou, sir.”

I couldn’t pound her pussy again, not yet.

I couldn’t reward her with my cum in that tight little snatch before she’d truly learned the meaning of earning it.

I pulled my cock free from my pants with a grunt, wrestling her lower on the bed as I climbed into position above her spit-streaked face.

“I’m going to fuck your hungry fucking throat,” I told her. “You’d better fucking take it.”

I didn’t give her the chance to respond before I slammed my way to the back of her wet mouth. Her fresh retch was exactly what I wanted, her throat bulging under me as I tunnelled deep. She’d be choking and I knew it. Eyes bulging at the lack of air as I claimed her.

I took hold of the headboard railings for leverage, caring nothing for her fear or shame or humiliation as I took everything I wanted.

Her bottom lip drooling against my balls was perfect. I stayed there, statue still bar the pulsing of my cock in that tight little cavity. I’d have fucked my way down into her grumbling belly if I had the power. Fucked my way right through her and out the other fucking side.

“Here’s your fucking breakfast,” I snarled and corkscrewed into her face. The noises from her throat made me heady. My breaths were ragged.

And then she had it.

One generous fucking serving of hot seed right into her guts. I stayed deep as I unloaded, breath catching as the white heat exploded behind my eyes.

I let out one long grunt. One shudder. Eyes closed as I savoured her squirms underneath me.

She sucked in one huge desperate breath as I pulled out, retching up streams of thick white cum to cake her chin along with spit and tears.

I should have told her that she was a good girl. An obedient girl. That I’d enjoyed taking my fill and she could play with her tender little clit while I watched in reward.

But I didn’t.

“That’s another treat for the viewers,” I hissed and tipped her head to the camera on the nearest bedpost. “They’ll be wanting to stare at your filthy fucking face for hours, so don’t you dare even think of wiping yourself clean.”

Her chest was still heaving. She coughed a wet cough as her eyes stared at the blacked-out camera lens.

“I won’t wipe myself, sir,” she managed with a whimper.

“Thank me for your fucking breakfast,” I told her and her eyes dropped in shame.

“Thank you, sir.”

“You’ll get three meals a day if you’re lucky,” I said. “Breakfast, lunch and supper in three hungry little holes.”

“Thank you, sir,” she repeated, and I wondered if she was coming to think of me instinctively as sir already or if it was still a conscious effort.

“You’re a filthy slut,” I told her, loving how her eyes dropped even further.

“Yes, sir.”

I was contemplating giving her the lunch helping already when I saw the flash of the intercom light on the back wall. I looked away from it in a beat to distract her from its presence, but there was no need. Her gaze was anywhere but at the back wall. I eased up enough to survey the full extent of my handiwork and it was a picture of fucking brilliance.

Her lips were bubbling cum and spit, cheeks raw and puffy along with her mouth. Her eyes were glassy and full of want and disgust, her chest still ricocheting in the aftermath.

“Remember, our viewers are watching you,” I repeated, and this time only got a tiny nod.

I let it slide.

My balls felt full of fucking air as I climbed down from the bed and adjusted myself for another round of normality downstairs.

She wasn’t looking at me as I headed for the exit the second time over. I really did leave her behind this time, taking the stairs two at a time and letting a smile grace my face as I stepped on through to the office. Eric’s stance was its usual quizzical nothingness as I headed to my desk and fired up my PC. I barely shot him a glance as he paced over, purposefully ignoring the bleep of the intercom buzzer from his side of the room.

“Was that a fuck up?” he asked, and I didn’t grace him with an answer. “You must’ve known it wasn’t piping through live, right? I was buzzing in case you didn’t…”