Underestimated Part 22

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What the f.u.c.k.

I was standing naked in the middle of the room wearing three inch stilettos, and he wanted me to play ring around the f.u.c.king rosy. I managed to play his stupid game for about fifteen minutes, and I couldn't do it anymore. My legs felt like jello, and were going to give out. That's exactly what happened. My ankle twisted, and I went down. I sat on the floor and grabbed my ankle. It hurt so bad. I thought for sure it was broken.

Drew laughed. I slid the heel from my foot and flung it across the room. I didn't know where the cameras were, but that was what I was aiming for.

"You shouldn't have done that," he warned.

I couldn't help it. I had enough. My ankle hurt. My legs felt like they were going to fall off from prancing around like some idiot for him, and my tongue wouldn't stay away from my swollen lip.



"f.u.c.k you!" I yelled. I hadn't said anything remotely close to that since my first week there.

He didn't say anything. I knew that he would be bursting through the door at any second. I didn't care. I was p.i.s.sed.

He didn't come, and all of a sudden the room went pitch black. That made me supremely happy. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d couldn't see me anymore. I removed the other shoe. My ankle still hurt, but I knew that it wasn't broken. The lights stayed off for maybe twenty minutes. I slammed my eyes shut all of a sudden at the bright light while my eyes tried adjust to the abrupt brightness.

"Move to the middle of the room," I heard him say.

I started to stand and then stopped. I didn't care because it hurt to stand on my ankle.

"Crawl."

I did as he said, and crawled like an animal back to the center. I sat in the middle of the room waiting for instructions. He didn't send anymore, and my heart sank when I heard the door being unlocked.

I knew I was in for a night of h.e.l.l as soon as I saw the look in his eyes and the bag that he carried, at least until he got off anyway.

He stood right in front of me and looked down.

"What did you say to him?" he asked in an angry tone.

"Nothing," I said, taking my second blow to my face "You're a liar. What did you say?"

"He only asked if I was happy and how I was doing. I told him yes that I was happy, and I was doing fine."

He grabbed my hair and pulled his face close to mine. "What did I tell you before we went there?"

"I tried not to talk to him without you. You're the coward that walked away."

I didn't mean to say the last part out loud. It just came out, and I knew that I would pay for it.

"Stand up," he demanded.

I stood, and he turned me sideways so that he could get a nice long stroke when he brought his hand to my bare a.s.s. It hurt. It hurt like a son of a b.i.t.c.h, but I wasn't going to let him know that. He made sure that we were facing the mirror so that I could watch.

"You've been here five years. Are you ever going to learn to do what you're told?"

Should I tell him to go to h.e.l.l now or later?

"I don't know what you want. Nothing I could do would ever make you happy."

I took another welt from his hand on that one.

"Did I tell you to talk?"

"Yeah, kind of. You did ask me a question," I smartly said. What was wrong with me? I never defied Drew nor did I smart off to him.

Third crack to my naked a.s.s.

"Sit," he demanded.

I did, and he made me turn toward the mirror. He stood behind me and reached into his bag of goodies. It wasn't anything new, and I had been introduced to that vibrator before.

He turned it on high power and ran around my collarbone and to my nipple while he watched our reflection in the mirror.

"Do you think you're going to come, Morgan?" He whispered in my ear. I could smell the whisky on his breath.

Well that's a stupid question.

"No."

"And why not?" he asked, teasing my nipple with the vibration. "Keep your eyes on the mirror," he demanded when I turned away.

"Because I was a bad girl."

f.u.c.king a.s.shole.

I was twenty four and had to tell him that I was a bad girl. I hated him. I could have shot him in the head and never felt bad about it. I could have even spit on him while he bled out and died.

"Spread your legs, bad girl."

I did as I was told, and he moved the vibration between my legs. He pulled my hands back so that I could lean back more and hold myself up. I tried not to moan as he slid the vibrator up my already wet folds.

Stupid v.a.g.i.n.a, always taking his side.

"Does that feel good, bad girl?"

It was a trick question. I didn't answer.

Drew moved around and sat in front of me, spreading me as far as my legs would allow. He rubbed the hard plastic vibrator down to my a.n.u.s, and I knew exactly where it was going to end up.

"Open your eyes," he demanded when I felt the vibrator penetrate my opening.

He slid it in slowly, enjoying the show as his free hand ma.s.saged my wet core. I was okay with that. I was used to being violated there. It was the next device that he pulled from his bag that I despised. I almost stopped breathing when he pulled out the rod that would send an electrical current through all of my female parts, bring me to an almost immediate o.r.g.a.s.m, and then stop. I hated that stupid thing and would have loved to shove it up his a.s.s.

He smiled broadly when he saw the look on my face. He moved the vibrator in and out of my a.s.s a few times, torturing me with the rod in his hand. I just wished he would hurry up and get it over with, but that was too easy. He got off on seeing the distress written all over my face.

"This hurts my knees. Move onto the bench," he demanded.

Poor f.u.c.king baby.

I didn't mind the bench. The floor was rather hard.

I limped when I put pressure on my sore ankle. Drew sat at the end of the bench and put both my feet on the tops of his legs. The vibrator was slowly moved back to where Drew wanted it. He brought the wand to my c.l.i.t, and I jumped. He laughed. It wasn't turned on.

d.i.c.khead.

He pressed his thumb inside of me while he moved the vibrator in and out of me. I wanted to come, oh how I wanted to come. He continued his toying on me and then stood to remove his clothes. He moved to the top of me and stroked himself on my lips a little, before telling me to open my mouth. He f.u.c.ked my mouth until he was close. I wished he would have just finished so that I could be finished. He wasn't about to do that. He wanted to play.

He moved back to below me, straddling the bench and placing my feet back on his legs.

"I want to see if I can feel this too," he said, pulling me toward his erection, sliding into me. He hissed as he pulled my hips in and out of him a couple of times, but stopped. I knew he was getting close, and if he would just allow some friction to his shaft we could be done with his charade.

He laughed again when I tensed as he turned on the rod that was going to drive me insane. It truly was a torturing rod, and no matter how hard you tried. You couldn't come with it.

He pushed himself deep inside of me, and I held my breath as he brought the tip of the rod to my core. He did it in slow motion, rubbing it in as much as he could.

He split me more with his thumb and forefinger and watched my face as he quickly touched my c.l.i.t. I called out in pleasuring pain. He rubbed me with his thumb, spread me again with his fingers, and repeated the process.

"I don't feel any current, but you tighten around my c.o.c.k like crazy."

Glad you're enjoying it, f.u.c.kface.

I didn't know how much more I was going to be able to take. I wanted nothing more out of life than to be released at that moment. I don't know why thirteen, but that is how many times I had to endure the torturing rod.

He probably wasn't even counting, and that was the magic number that he had gotten bored with it. I breathed a sigh of relief when he laid it on the floor.

"Roll over," he demanded, pulling the other object from my r.e.c.t.u.m.

I lay on the skinny bench, and he moved my hands back wanting me to spread myself for his entrance.

"Turn your head," he demanded, wanting me to watch. I did, not removing my hands from behind me, and he pushed my hair from my eyes. I watched and felt the drip from the cool gel.

"Keep your eyes opened," he demanded when I tightened them after feeling him penetrate my opening. He frantically pumped in and out of my a.s.s, and I knew it was just a matter of time before he let go. He didn't. He pulled out and told me to get up.

I got up, and he lay on the bench with his hands above his head. He stared up at me like I was stupid or something. He bucked his hips, and I didn't know whether he wanted me to sit on him or give him a b.l.o.w.j.o.b. He jumped up and hit me right across my right eye.

"Sit down!" he screamed and lay back down.

He moaned as I took him in and out of my a.s.s for a few minutes, and finally, he released.

He stood and dressed as I caught a glimpse of my battered face in the mirror. He left, locking the door behind him.

Great.

It was just a matter of time before the room went black again. I used the opportunity to release myself. I knew I only needed a minute and hoped the lights didn't come back on before I was done. They didn't, and although I didn't want to stay in the empty room, I wasn't frustrated anymore.

I was squirming in the warm sand after talking about it with Dawson. I needed relief.

"He kept you in the room all night?" Dawson asked.

"Yes. Can we go up to the house now?"

"You still haven't told me how you got out."

I leaned over and kissed him. "Daw, I can't right now. I need for you to take me up to the house and back to bed."

"Talking about it makes you want to have s.e.x, doesn't it?"

"I don't know if it makes me want to have s.e.x, but it definitely makes me frustrated."

What Dawson did next took me by surprise. He took off his jacket and laid it across my lap.

"Lay back," he whispered to my lips.

"What are you doing?" I asked, already listening.

"Taking care of you, so you'll keep talking to me."

I looked around at the empty beach. John would be walking back soon, but as soon as I felt him unb.u.t.ton my jeans and slide down the zipper, I didn't care.

"d.a.m.n, you do need taken care of," Dawson agreed, feeling how wet I was.

It was quick. I don't know if it even took five minutes. I softly moaned, and Dawson kissed me, really kissed me.

"I love you," he said on my lips.

"Hmmm, I love you too," I replied, still trying to come down from what had just happened.

"Okay, you spent the night in the room," Dawson said, getting right back to what I didn't want to talk about anymore.

"Three nights. The only light that I saw for three days was when I opened the little refrigerator. It almost blinded me every time I reached in for water or the veggies and fruit that he had left for me. He knew he was locking me in that room before we ever went to that stupid party. By the time I got out of there. I was ready to go crazy. I think that was the whole point."

I stopped there, and although I wasn't happy about the house fire in town, coming across Dawson's hand held scanner, I was happy that he had to leave for a while. That was enough for one day.

Dawson was gone for around three hours. I had a nice supper made when he got back.

"Hmm, something smells heavenly," he said, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing the side of my neck in the kitchen.

"Cube steak, mashed potatoes, gravy, corn and rolls," I described as I turned to him. "And you smell like smoke. Is everyone okay?"

"Yeah, everyone was fine. The house is pretty much history though. Do I have time for a shower?"

"Yes, I'll set the table."

I was just getting our two plates down from the cabinet when Lauren came in.

"I swear I could smell your cooking from inside my house," she said, sitting at the table.

I laughed and grabbed another plate. She would just be at my house later looking for food anyway. I figured she may as well join us, not that she wasn't going to anyway.

Underestimated Part 22

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Underestimated Part 22 summary

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