Page 9 of Brutal
Fuck.
Anal is my least favorite. “I can suck you off,” I say desperately. “I’m really good with my mouth.”
Brutal laughs in my face. “I know you can suck me off, and I know you’re probably great with that pretty little mouth. But I’d rather take that ass. Move out of the water a little so the lube doesn’t wash off.”
“Wait,” I croak out. “Wait. I’m not… I’m not stretched out or anything.”
He leans in right against my lips, murmuring, “I don’t particularly care.” He grins again, that fucking grin I already hate. “I have a doctor coming to look at you tomorrow. How convenient, right? If I damage anything, he’ll just fix you right up. Now shut up, Mimi.”
I let out a soft whine, but I let him position me, offering my ass up. Despite his words, he shoves a finger into my ass, exploring and touching and stretching me out — just a little, though, because before long, I feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against my hole. He starts to push inside before I can even get used to the idea, and while this isn’t the first time this has happened, he probably has one of the larger dicks that’s ever been inside me there.
It takes work, and he’s grunting while I cry as he shoves his way inside. I’ll be bleeding, I know, but this asshole will probably enjoy that.
He groans in my ear, nibbling the earlobe and making me shudder. I’m sensitive there, enough to where I can’t help but let out a little whimper that’s not entirely from pain. It turns that way, though, as he starts to fuck in and out of me, grabbing my waist so tightly that he’s going to leave bruises.
More bruises.
They won’t be the first, and I know they won’t be nearly the last.
He fucks my ass until I’m crying in pain, careless of the fact that I’m miserable — or maybe he just enjoys that. Probably the latter, because it doesn’t even take him more than a few agonizingly long minutes to stiffen and groan before he spills into my ass. I can feel it, hot and invasive, and all I can do is stand there with my hands and forehead pressed against the wall of the shower.
He’s panting, his breath hot against my neck, and he nips me almost gently before he’s biting harder, sucking, leaving his mark on my skin. “I can’t wait to mark you for real,” he murmurs, then laughs. “Maybe I’ll have you tattooed as ‘Drake’s slut.’ What do you think about that, Mimi?”
I shudder and blink hard, trying to stave off the tears. I didn’t think I was still able to care so much about my body. I thought that had all been fucked out of me.
“Does it matter what I think?” I ask in a whisper.
Drake snorts. “Nope.” He pulls out of me and reaches down to play with my hole.
I wince at the sensation.
“Let’s get you cleaned up and put away for the night.”
Something about his tone of voice has my hackles up, but I don’t say anything. He washes my hole, turns the water off, and directs me out of the shower.
We towel dry. I’m glad he didn’t make me towel him off and that he didn’t insist on touching me, either. I don’t want him touching me at all, but I know that’s not on the table. I’ll take whatever small moments of reprieve I can. He puts his boxer briefs back on, but he doesn’t give me any clothing.
“This way,” Brutal says, guiding me to the adjoining bedroom.
It’s larger than the entirety of the apartment my sister and I had when I was growing up. My college dorm room could probably fit in here four or five times. The large bed can easily fit four people on it.
“This is where you’ll be sleeping.”
At first, I think he means the bed, until I realize he’s pointing next to the bed, where there’s a large metal dog cage.
I freeze, staring at it in disbelief. He has to be joking. There’s no way he intends to make me sleep in a cage. “What,” I croak. “N-no. I’m not going to do anything stupid, I promise. You don’t need to lock me up.”
“I know,” he says, flashing me a cocky smirk. “Just like I didn’t need to buy you to begin with. But you’re my pretty little pet, and I like my pretty little pets to go where they belong. So go on, Mimi. You can crawl over there and get in. I might even give you a blanket if you make me happy.”
He’s a fucking psycho.
I hesitate for a moment, and Brutal snaps his fingers. “Go,” he says more sharply. “In the fucking cage before I lose my temper and just shove you in there.”
I start to walk, but he grabs me by the back of the neck and forces me down to the smooth hardwood floor. Instead of getting back up like I want to, I swallow my pride and crawl my way to the cage before getting inside.
I won’t be able to stretch out completely inside of it. It’s maybe four feet by four feet, which seems like it would be generous for a dog but is nowhere near big enough for me.
“Good girl,” he crows. He grabs a throw blanket from the foot of the bed and tosses it in behind me. “There you go.”