Little Things (Second Chances 1)

As I quicken my pace, he growls, “Faster.”

He lets go of my hair with one hand, only to bury himself deeper into my mouth. His panting grows faster as he nears his climax. I taste a bit of his cum as it slowly leaks out of him.

He begins to pump his hips and moves my hands to touch his dick, “Stroke me, Angel. Touch it.”

I follow his direction and stroke him rapidly while running my tongue along his head.

“Oh, Angel, you little slut. You suck me off so well.”

As soon as he said the word slut, my body stewed with rage and fury. I hate that fucking word and I will not be called a slut. I feel the hatred building inside as he continues to revel in the pleasure that I’m giving him. At first, I think to stop, but decide on another course of action.

I stroke faster and suck harder to fulfill his wish for pleasure.

As his body enjoys my skills, he moans with pleasure as he releases into my mouth. I angle my mouth to carefully catch his cum and hold my gag reflex to prevent from swallowing. He breathes out the last burst of his orgasm as he looks down at me and slowly pulls his dick out of my mouth. I smile, still holding his cum in the back of my throat.

He readjusts his boxer briefs onto his hips and offers his hand out to me. I grab his hand, allowing him to hoist me up off of my knees. This is it. Now or never.

Right before he lets go of my hand, I quickly spit all of his cum into his face, aiming straight for his eyes. He yells with disgust and rubs his hands all over his face, trying to wipe off his own seed. I smirk with pride as my plan worked perfectly and mentally give myself a pat on the back.

Derrick catches me laughing at his freak out and throws his hands around my neck, pushing me onto the bed.

“You think that was funny?!??”

“You said not to bite you and I listened.”

“So, you think this is a game? Well, I love to play games.”

He squeezes his hands around my neck tighter, but I don’t back down.

“Go ahead! I’m not afraid of you. I’ll never be afraid.”

“You would think that after two years, you would learn to follow the rules. Hmm, looks like you need to learn a little more discipline.”

He bends down to whisper, “I have just the treatment to rectify your rebelliousness.”

And with that, he lets go of my neck and exits the room quickly, leaving me to think about his threat.

For the past two weeks, Derrick has auctioned me off every night. Usually, I only attend two auctions per week. I’m assuming this is his ‘treatment’, but fuck it, I don’t care. As long as I take my little pill and shut myself out during the personal time, I’m okay. In fact, a few of the winning bidders are what Derrick calls my regulars.

After my first auction, I’ve run into West a few times. He keeps his distance and barely talks to me, but some days, I catch him watching me. For some reason, I’m not afraid of him, even though he’s Derrick’s right hand man. Sometimes, just catching him staring at me gives me the slight comfort that I need to make it through the day.

I’ve grown accustomed to my new life. I’ve even seen Layla a few times in the past few months. She’s not as strong as me so I worry for her. I can tell that she’s been sick and has lost some weight. But what can I do? I can’t just take her to the hospital. I even asked Trish about Layla and all she said was Derrick is handling it.

As I lie on my bed, waiting for another exhausting night of pleasuring my winning bid, Trish enters the room.

I lift my head off the bed, “Hey, Trish. What are we wearing this evening?”

She saunters over the bed slowly and sits next to me, “Actually, you’re not going tonight. Derrick has other plans for you.”

“What do you mean other plans?”

“Honestly, Raya, I don’t know. He didn’t tell me. He’s coming down in a few minutes to come get you.”

She reaches over and pulls me into a hug, “Raya, you need to stay strong.”

I pull out of her hug and stare at her, “Trish, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

“I said I don’t know. I’ve never seen Derrick so vengeful before.”