Buy My Soul (Sixty Days 2)

And that’s when the adrenaline flared.

It zinged through my body in waves. Blooming loud as my screaming nerves struggled between pleasure and pain. The midway point between the two was an ocean of hungry shock. The world slowed, ears ringing as I adjusted to the sensations.

I coasted there. Felt the smile grace my dirty lips.

Free.

I felt free.

My eyes focused on the green light of the nearest camera. My senses dulled and sharpened at once, my breaths louder than the slaps of his hands as he punished me.

I stared at them. The people beyond. The people watching me from afar.

I stared into the void of technology and felt the gaze of dirty rich men enjoying my hurt.

I didn’t know I was still smiling until he pinched my cheeks and called me out for it. Until his eyes were in mine and burning and his body was laid down next to me.

“Lift your fucking knees,” he grunted, and this time it wasn’t the viewers’ benefit he was speaking for. It was mine. “Pull them to your chest and give me your filthy little asshole.”

My smile disappeared. My eyes stayed hard on his, rules forgotten.

I lifted my knees to my chest and he yanked them wide before his arm pressed them tight to my tits. My lower back lifted from the mattress and presented my ass to the cameras.

Presented my ass to him.

I’d never had this. Never done this. Never had my ass pounded by anyone or anything.

My fear was palpable. My mouth was dry when he licked two fingers and slipped them down between my ass cheeks.

I wasn’t ready. Not for a single finger, let alone two.

I wasn’t ready for the burn as they pushed deep inside and stretched me raw.

I grunted. He cursed under his breath, his eyes still on mine.

“Dirty girl,” he said, and again his words were for me. “I’m going to enjoy destroying your tight little hole.”

The cameras disappeared into the background as I whimpered for him. The world was just him as I struggled to take the third finger pushing deep.

It was like needing the toilet in the most painful of circumstances. It was like a hot bolt of hurt burning deep.

And then it wasn’t.

My pussy clenched and my clit sparked. My body moved of its own accord.

“Steady,” he whispered. “Act like you want more and I’ll give you enough to regret it.”

But I did want more. Despite the pain, I wanted everything.

His fingers tugged free and slammed back in again. My breath met with his, my lips parted to match his.

How I wanted him to kiss me. To land his mouth onto mine and force his tongue deep enough to match his fingers. Two holes at once consumed by the monster.

He didn’t.

“Fucking your ass raw is going to be an absolute pleasure,” he told me. “Making you beg me to stop is going to be reward enough for the world of fucking shit you’ve pulled me through.”

I had no idea what world of fucking shit I’d pulled him through. Facing off to the scum in the alleyway just a day previous had seemed like water off a duck’s back to a beast like him. Barely worth him breaking a sweat over.

My world was a universe of fucking shit. Had been for as long as I could remember.

His world seemed anything but.

I cried out loud as he circled his fingers in my ass and stretched me wider. My muscles tightened around them involuntarily, and he liked that, I saw it in his eyes for a long moment before he turned his attention back to the cameras.

“Call this a taster,” he said to the viewers. “A taster of the finest sixty-day experience you’ll ever fucking witness. Such a filthy little beauty begging to be destroyed.”

His lip curled into a scary smile.

“I’m going to show you so much of this desperate little whore that you’ll be dying for the plane ride over here. Get your bids ready, because they’ll be coming in from every fucking where. Some of you will strike lucky. Some of you won’t.” He paused. “All of you will want in, believe me.”

Bids.

The thought hit hard.

I mean I knew it. I knew it from Rebecca Lane and her tales of her own sixty days at his mercy. I knew that submitting to the will of this gorgeous monster was only the first stage in the sixty day whirlwind of obedience.

I’d have to take whichever cock was given, in whichever way it was offered.

I’d have to give myself to whoever came calling in and whichever way they made me give myself.

She’d told me there were many men. Many horrible men. Vile men. Disgusting men.

Men who’d made her forget her very sanity in her bid to earn her money.

Men she’d pleased for reasons beyond that. For one reason beyond that.