Page 81 of Vicious

I wish I could believe that.

I wish I didn’t think being Chase Vicious’s sex slave might be better than returning to a life of three jobs and constant misery because… What the fuck, May? The good parts hadn’t outweighed the reality of the situation.

I grab a clean set of clothes and shut myself into the bathroom, running the water while I undress. It’s surprisingly hot, which is one of the few amenities this motel offers, and I step beneath it with a ragged breath. I can’t ever forget the condition my ass and thighs are in; every time I sit down, the pain blossoms through me, and I have to fight not to show how it affects me.

And… It isn’t all bad.

I close my eyes, pretending I’m somewhere else, anywhere else, and to my utter bemusement, my mind goes to Chase’s fancy shower.

Fuck. I can’t think about him right now.

I stagger back, leaning against the shower wall, and familiar pain flares up as my ass hits it.

My cunt throbs in response, and I hate how good it all feels. I press my fingers against my clit for just a few seconds before I pull them away.

No. I’m not going to pleasure myself. I’m not that kind of woman, to just give in to my base desires. Especially not with my father right there outside the bathroom!

I grab the shampoo and aggressively wash my hair, yanking at the strands when they get tangled. Of course the shampoo isn’t anywhere near as good as the stuff Chase had provided for me, and the only soap available is bar soap that makes my skin feel sticky even under the spray.

I run the soap over my ass anyway, pushing harder than I need to. Pain blossoms once more, and I stifle a groan.

Fuck. I need to stop doing that.

The soap slips from my hand, and I kneel down to pick it up again. My body reminds me that even that level of movement is too much.

Chase had paddled me, like I was in an old British boarding school. I’d been humiliated.

But the pain had made the anger inside me settle and morph into something else.

I need to stop thinking about what happened.

I can’t stop thinking about it.

I rub my clit again with two insistent fingers, biting back another moan. It’s wrong, so very wrong, to try to get off on the memory of so much pain on the back of so much rage and hurt.

So why am I doing it anyway?

My mind drifts back to his shower, to when he’d shoved my still-injured back against the wall and fucked me senseless against it. I’ve never been a slave to my body before; I rarely even indulged in touching myself before Chase. I just hadn’t had the time or the inclination, and it had been more about scratching an itch than anything else.

Now, though? Now it feels like a need so deep within me that there’s no way I can continue to ignore it.

My fingers move slowly around my clit, teasing it, squeezing it, and rubbing in just the right place that makes my breathing ragged. I push my ass harder against the side of the shower, focusing on that pain as the pleasure builds higher and higher.

All I can see is Chase.

All I can think about is Chase.

“Sweet May. You look beautiful like that,” he’d probably say, generic platitudes that any man might whisper. But I can hear them in his voice, the way he’d say them directly against my ear so there was no way for me to escape them.

I lie down on my back in the tub, sighing at the pressure on my ass, and use my other hand to insert two fingers inside myself. It isn’t anywhere near the same as his cock, but I have to make do.

My eyes land on the small bottle of shampoo the motel provided. It’s smooth and has rounded edges.

I could use it. It would give me something a little firmer, a little more tangible, and I could pretend it was Chase humiliating me this way before he buried his cock inside of me and shoved me toward the precipice with one touch after the next.

I grab it with a trembling hand before I can talk myself out of it, my cheeks burning as I push it close to my cunt. This is humiliating. I can’t believe I’m even considering fucking myself with a shampoo bottle.

But I push it in anyway, stifling a moan as it slides inside easily. It’s nowhere near as big as Chase, little more than a travel bottle, but I thrust it in and out while I massage my clit with my other hand. I make sure to clench and move my ass, too, so that I get the pain along with the pleasure.