Sell My Soul (Sixty Days 1)

Her cries became more screams than groans, even with her face buried in the pillow.

We were loud. Real fucking loud. Loud enough to risk a knock at our hotel room door and maybe some flashing blue lights on the street outside.

But I didn’t give one fucking shit for any of it.

I tipped my head to the ceiling and closed my eyes to savour her groans after another brutal round on her ass.

Pure. Fucking. Bliss.

“I told you you’d fucking hurt for me,” I said when she finally quieted, and my voice was dripping with liquid filth.

She spluttered for a moment as she dropped the pillow from her teeth, turning her cheek to the side and staring up at me with one wide eye.

“And I told you,” she said on a breath, “that I’d take whatever you gave me.”

“Brave words,” I told her with a smile. “But we’re a long way from done yet.”

I should’ve been long done. I had preparations to make back at the manor. A snotty Annabel to prod into subservience for the viewing public. Bids to provoke. Money to take.

But I didn’t give one fucking shit for any of that, either.

“Onto your back,” I said, but it was a pointless instruction. I’d flipped her before I’d finished speaking, hungry for more of the grimace as her brutalised skin hit the mattress.

Her tits were still flushed from my hand slaps. Her flat little belly was tense at the scrutiny.

She had hipbones, too pronounced to be healthy. Ribs I could count through her skin.

Her eyes were wide open on mine as I took her hips and tugged her down towards me. I lifted her thighs to her chest and splayed them, offering up her pouting cunt for my pleasure.

She held the position without argument.

She held her gaze, too. Eyes on me. Watching me.

I liked that. I liked that a lot.

The girl was trimmed but barely shaved. Her clit was standing to attention, poking out from its dark little hood as I splayed her with my fingers.

“I do love hurting pussy,” I told her softly. “It’s a personal favourite of mine, as you’ll soon discover.”

I grazed her with my fingers and she sucked in a breath.

“Still,” I continued. “You should know that already, shouldn’t you? Tell me. Are you still sore from taking my fist to the knuckles?”

A delicious little nod. “It still hurts,” she said. “I feel it when I clench.”

“You’re forgetting yourself,” I told her, and pushed two fingers in deep. “It’s sir,” I said. “Another tongue slip and I’ll clamp it for days.”

“It still hurts, sir,” she corrected.

I knew exactly the angle to dig for. She groaned as I found it and pressed hard.

“There, sir,” she hissed. “It hurts there.”

I could’ve amused myself with her pussy pain for days. Poking. Prodding. Stretching and pounding.

I could’ve clamped that clit between my teeth and sucked her raw enough that she sobbed.

But not tonight.

I pulled my fingers from the depths of her with a smirk and sucked on those instead. She was a flavour worth savouring; sweet innocence on my tongue. Sixty days with her delicious cunt on my menu would be a treasure.

Her eyes didn’t leave mine as I trailed the leather strap between her tits and down over her stomach. She kept her thighs strained high as I let the leather kiss her mound.

“Good girls get choices,” I told her. “Tell me, Miss Emmerson, are you going to be a good girl from here on in?”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered. “I’ll be good.”

My smile was cold. Her eyes were scared.

Scared but wanting.

“What’s it going to be first, good little Paige? Tits, thighs, or pussy for the belt?

Her legs shuddered against her chest, but there was more to behold beneath her fear. A delightfully horny clench of that needy little slit, right before my eyes.

My mouth fucking watered, right there and then. She let out a whimper as she considered her options.

“Grateful girls decide quickly,” I told her, and that sweet cunt clenched again.

“Tits please, sir,” she said. “Please hurt my tits first.”

“My fucking pleasure,” I said, and yanked her legs back down.

My grip was tight as I squeezed her left tit and rubbed the leather strap against her nipple.

“Keep your eyes open,” I told her and she nodded.

I knew it would hurt like fucking sin when the belt slapped hard. I squeezed that fucking tit and whacked it. She tensed all over, mouth open wide, even though she fought back the scream. It gurgled in her throat. Raw enough that my balls nearly emptied in my fucking pants.

Her eyes watered to perfection. She blinked tears down her cheeks as her gaze stayed firm on mine.

I clamped my hand around her other tit and squeezed it hard until the flesh filled with blood. When I whacked it with the belt, she squirmed all the harder, snivelling deliciously as she struggled to take the pain.