That’s right, my semen dripping from Abby’s holes ruined the whole thing, and Abby was no longer on the block. Her damned plan to go ahead and do whatever she wanted had backfired. And now … the girl was mine for good.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Abby
It happened so fast that I wasn’t sure what happened exactly at first. I was up on the stage, shimmying and shaking, showing off my assets for potential buyers when suddenly the stage went dark and I was yanked off, hauled away by some masked man.
“Stop it!” I shrieked, beating with my fists. “What the hell!”
Because I’d just been getting into it. That’s right, Jared’s taught me well and I was pulling out every trick in the book. I licked my nipples, I parted my plush pussy lips, I gave that audience a deep look into my insides, showing them the insides of my twat.
But that was the problem. It was Mr. White’s cum that did me in, that ruined it all. Because on my back, I was sure that it wasn’t gonna come seeping out, that gravity would keep it inside. But somehow, right at the critical moment, the seed began to spill. That’s right, with my legs in air splits, with my pussy folds parted wide, his virile semen decided to make an appearance and the gooey white welled up from deep inside, spilling hotly down my pussy, coating my privates with the evidence of man.
So despite the fact that I screamed and struggled, I knew exactly what had gone wrong. The evidence of a man’s semen inside marked me as a non-virgin. Of course, this wasn’t technically true, Jared had merely spurted right at my holes, giving me a good dose without putting it inside. But it looked bad. For the purposes of the auction, it looked like I’d had sex with a man, taken dick in my cunt even if it wasn’t true.
And when we got backstage, I was dropped unceremoniously on my feet, scrambling up with an indignant look.
“It’s not what it looks like!” I protested. “Seriously, it’s not what it looks like.”
A middle-aged woman, hair in a severe bun, shot me a nasty look.
“Oh really,” she snapped. “What the fuck is that then? What’s that dripping even now?” she said, pointing to my legs.
I knew without looking what was going on. Because I could feel it, I could feel that hot jism oozing out from my pussy and asshole, I could feel Mr. White’s semen dripping from my body right now, damning with its presence.
“But it’s not what it looks like!” I exclaimed again. “Really, it’s not!” I protested.
And before I realized what happened, the woman slapped me. It was so unexpected that I didn’t move at first, my face still turned to the side, a hand moving slowly to my cheek.
“Shut the fuck up!” she screamed. “You came to management asking to be sold, no, begging to be sold, and then this happens! You’ve been fucking someone on the side, you’re not a virgin at all!”
She raised her hand to strike me again as I cowered, still shivering with shock.
But suddenly the woman’s fist was jerked back so hard that she literally fell backwards, landing on her ass with a thump. Jared stood over her, huge, towering, dominant, his face a mask of rage.
“I don’t normally hit women,” he said, voice low and threatening. “But maybe I’ll start.”
The woman scrambled to her knees then, glasses crooked, eyes wide with surprise.
“Mr. White!” she gasped. “What are you doing backstage? Do you know this girl? She,” the woman snapped, “told us she was a virgin. She told us she was a waitress at the bar, a virgin still, who could fetch top dollar. And now look,” the woman spat again. “Now look what’s happened, the sale had to be aborted and this liar has a man’s semen trickling from her pussy. From her pussy!” she exclaimed again, outraged.
But Mr. White raised his hand threateningly once more, and the woman cowered before him, a trembling mess.
“That’s right,” he growled, “I don’t usually hit women, but I’m tempted because you’re a fucking bitch. Fuck you all,” he barked at the woman and handlers surrounding us, lifting me in his arms. “Fuck you all.”
And with great long strides, we were off into a dark corridor. I moaned deliriously, my cheek still stinging from the slap, my body still wet with his jism. But feeling Mr. White’s strong arms cradling me helped me calm down, helped my heart stop beating like a quivering bird.
And when we reached his quarters, I was able to speak once again.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “Thank you for saving me.”
He stalked this way and that like a lion in its cage, rage barely contained.
“What the fuck, Abigail,” he ground out, shooting me an angry look. “What the fuck.”