Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
I manage to get two brain cells to fire.
“I don’t want to go back there.”
“And that’s why you will. I didn’t ask what you wanted. I told you what you are going to do. It’s important that a young lady is able to earn her own way in the world. And I think you look cute in the uniform.”
He starts spanking my ass in between thrusts, using my tight anal hole with complete ownership. He’s been careful with me while pressing my limits to the absolute extreme. I feel like I might shatter under him, but I know if I do, he’ll pick up each and every one of my many pieces.
I come. I don’t know where the orgasm comes from, because I didn’t think being fucked in the ass could make you come, but all of a sudden I am shaking, wailing and clenching his cock with my ass as my pussy quivers with a desperate kind of urge to milk the cum from his cock.
He comes at the same time, his climax following mine. I feel him sink deep inside my ass and fill me up, his teeth on the back of my neck, one hand clenched in my hair as he makes full and complete use of me.
“Good girl,” he praises as he slides slowly out of me, dropping a kiss on the back of my head as he helps me stand up.
“I don’t want to go back to work,” I say when I get my brain back.
He smiles at me with a certain amount of indulgence. God. He still looks so fucking hot half naked and covered in bandages. His hair is hanging in his eyes, sweaty from the effort of fucking me. My pussy is still throbbing. He could take a shower and fuck me again. We could stay in bed all day long. I would let him use me if it meant I didn’t have to go back to work at the restaurant.
He reaches for me and runs his hand through my hair, which is all mussed around my face from the rigorous handling.
“You’re going to do as you are told because it’s who you are and it’s what your life needs to be for the moment. You don’t want to become a monster’s kept pet, do you? Imagine day after day being sexually used, not attending your classes or earning any of your own money. Simply being… I need you to keep living your life because I don’t want you being linked to me,” he says. “You’re going to work tonight. And you’re going to school today. You’re going to live your life as you always have. It’s the only way to keep you safe.”
“From who?”
“Telling you would also be a good way to put you in danger, and I have no intention of doing that.”
He pats my butt, which is still leaking his cum. “Now go and have a good day at school.”
Sitting in what should be Sam’s class, trying hard to pay attention to what Professor Bloom is saying, I wonder what the fuck I have gotten myself into. I wanted Sam to come to me, and he did. But he came even more fucked up than he usually does.
Was he in danger last night? I doubt it somehow. He seems like the sort of guy who is the danger. But people fight back sometimes. I have to know what actually happened. I can’t live in ignorance. Not about this.
But there’s nothing I can do from school, and my shift at the restaurant always starts right after school. It feels very weird to go to work after being fired. I’m pretty sure they’re going to tell me to go home the second I walk in the door.
“Hey, Laura,” Alana smiles as I come through the door.
“Do you want me to work tonight?”
“Of course,” she smiles again. That’s two more smiles than I generally get from her. This is weird. I never knew I would find someone being nice to me this unsettling. I have a mental image of Sam having talked to these two somehow. I don’t know when he would have found the time. Today, maybe. When I was in class, he must have been bullying my bosses into taking me back.
Once I go into the locker room though, it’s like the other day never happened. I get dressed in my uniform, I pick up my pencil and my pad, and I tuck my emotional support romance novel into the pocket.
For most of the shift, everything is as normal. It’s a fun job, really. I get to constantly meet little challenges and help people get a decent meal. It’s busy enough that I get to forget about my problems and the weirdness of my life. Table five wants extra fries. Table six needs me to get the chef to hold the onion. Table three gets me to read them the specials six times, then goes ahead and orders off the menu in front of them. Good times.