Make You Beg

He walks up to them, draping his arm over her shoulders. He says something to the guys, giving them a chilling smile, and they walk off. He walks her back to us.

“You okay?” I ask.

She nods but doesn’t say anything else.

“Here, I’ll walk you to class.” I turn to look over my shoulder and see that Law and Scout are following us.

_______________

During third period, I’m sitting in class as the tardy bell rings, and I look up to see Nicholas Daws enter the classroom. He’s one of the two guys who had Lacey cornered against her locker earlier this morning.

I glare up at him, refusing to look away until he acknowledges my disgust with him. When his eyes finally meet mine, he just smirks. Like it was some sick joke to torment her.

I hate it for Lacey. I know her being my friend has brought on more trouble for her. She always kept to herself, and it worked for her. But now she’s in the middle of my drama.

“Ignore him,” Monroe whispers in my ear from behind me, and I jump in surprise. It’s the first time he’s spoken to me since he told me that he wanted me dead, and I tried to shoot him.

But I do as I’m told. He’s nothing. Scout promised me that he would talk to Lacey and find out what they were saying to her. I hate that he might have to threaten her to get those answers, but I want to know too. The Reapers will protect her. Even if they seem worse at first, they will make sure no one touches her other than them.

That’s all I can ask for now.

“Good morning, class,” Mrs. Shephard announces as she enters the room with her Gucci purse in one hand and a Starbucks cup in the other. “Put everything away and grab your pencil. We have a quiz today.”

Everyone groans, and she laughs. I think this bitch loves torturing us. I feel it’s the only reason she took this job. Because she’s rich and bored with her life.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out to see it’s a message to the Our Little Doll group chat. It’s a video. I have my sound off, so I decide to play it, knowing no one will be able to hear it but curious as to what it is.

Clicking on it, I see it’s me, and my breathing instantly picks up.

Scout is filming. It has to be him by the angle it’s showing. He’s kneeling between my parted legs. My cum covers his hard cock as he slowly enters my shaved pussy and pulls out. This is obviously well into the first night of our weekend fuck-fest because I already have bruises on my inner thighs from his mouth and teeth.

He raises the camera to give a better view of my entire body.

I’m lying on my bed, my arms spread wide, tied to the two posts at either side of the footboard for the second or third time. Who knows? My shoulders and head hang off the edge as Law stands there straddling my face with his large cock in my mouth. Law isn’t being as kind as Scout is. You can see the outline of his dick as he shoves it down my throat while I lie there and let him use me. Scout picks up his pace, and his free hand travels up my body and wraps around my neck. He’s squeezing so hard his knuckles turn white, restricting what little air Law was allowing me to have while he has his way with me. I’m pretty sure I blacked out several times over the weekend because I didn’t have a single sip of alcohol, and parts are missing.

Turning the camera horizontal, Scout gives you a better view of us. Law is leaning forward; his hands are on my thighs, and he’s holding them wide open for Scout while he picks up his pace on my pussy.

I shouldn’t be turned on, but I am. Seeing what they see. It makes my heart speed up and my breathing ragged. My tits bounce with each thrust, and my body is covered in sweat and bodily fluids. It was the most degrading and satisfying thing I’ve ever done.

My phone vibrates again, and this time, it’s a text from Law to the group.

Law: Playing with our doll over the weekend.

“Nice.”

I lock my phone and drop it onto my lap.

“Excuse me?” I snap, looking over at Nicholas.

His eyes are on my lap, and panic rises in my chest. Was he watching it? Did he just see all that?

A slow smile spreads across his face, but he doesn’t answer. Instead, he leans back in his seat and pulls out his pencil.

I quickly shove my cell into my pocket as Mrs. Shephard passes out the quiz. My heart now hammers in my chest for a different reason.