Poor Little Rich Slut (8 page)

The maid was grunting… rattling off exclamations that went right over my head, but I could sense that she was going to cum. The deep groaning, the wriggling snatch against my ass, the determined thrusts all gave away her state of mind and body. I was no more to her than a means to her selfish ends. Then when she exploded, her nails dug even deeper into my already wounded skin. The thrusts were merciless and her cries provided an anguished end to my torment.

“On the floor, bitch!”
Garrison ordered the maid, who moved before me in a drunk-like stupor. She smiled as if she was high on pot, giggling her way to the mattress that had been tossed to the floor. “You too!” he shook me, pulling me upright and shoving me to the mattress with her.

“Lick her ass,” he ordered.

I didn’t question his demand; the ass in question was bobbing right before my face, two plump, round globes of creamy white. I moved in with my mouth, parted her cheeks with my hands and dove impulsively toward the rosy bud of her anus. My tongue leapt out as if it knew exactly what to do. She tasted a little sweet and tinny both, but it was not as disgusting as I feared. I licked the hole, drilling it lightly with my tongue, then backed off and licked some more until I had the woman nearly orgasmic. My power over her amazed me even if I found the act disturbing.

“That’s it, Heiress, you tongue her asshole.” Garrison’s comments spurred me on. I could have rebelled at this point, disgusted with myself, but I felt his boot between my legs, working its way about my labia, finding the hole and massaging my cunt with a passion I could feel transmitted even through the thick leather. I wriggled back against the boot, still working the maid’s asshole with my tongue. Did I have no shame? No inhibitions? What kind of slut had I become to be screwing this way inside my father’s house?

Oh, and wasn’t that even more appalling? This was my father’s house, a place I once thought sacred. I defiled it now, and that pleased me.
Was this some sort of twisted revenge? I’d wonder later.

Suddenly, Garrison jerked me from the floor and pushed me to the metal bed frame.

“Your turn to watch,” he said.

He then moved in behind Angelica, just as I had been, though not with his mouth but his cock. He rubbed her anus with the copious juices that were flooding out on the mattress, then speared her ass with an evil thrust and started fucking the maid.

I watched the action, seeing the two as feral animals engaged in a terrible battle. He held her blonde hair just as he’d held mine. She cried out, screaming and groaning as if she didn’t care who heard. Then the two seemed to cum simultaneously. Never had I seen anything as powerful as their colliding bodies lurching and groveling and grunting nasty things.

I could only imagine what she was feeling.

“Yes, bitch!” he repeated, over and over again, “Bitch, bitch, bitch…” Spitting out the word like an accusation.

My cunt throbbed as I watched them, until I finally found it with my hand and began massaging the wet folds. I rammed two fingers into the aching hole; maybe I could cum too!

But then suddenly, the pair on the mattress collapsed. I immediately stopped playing, afraid that Garrison would see.

“
Ooo
, did I do
good
?” Angelica purred in a sweet and drifting voice. She crept over his body and kissed his face, while her ass dripped their combined juices all over his chest.

They looked more like lovers then, which made me feel left out and cheap. Maybe I was just their inspiration.
Just their way of getting aroused.
Feeling their intimacy embarrassed me and I looked away at the empty attic, studying the walls and dusty floors and the cobwebs in the corner.

When I looked back, Angelica was gone, having slipped quietly from the room. Garrison was rising to his feet. He zipped his pants and stood over me, his hand reaching down to cup my chin.

“How’s your ass?”

My ass hurt, but I wouldn’t admit it.

“My ass is just fine,” I repeated my standard response.

He nodded his head, while his lips formed a faint smirk.

He dropped my chin and moved away from me. I watched him gaze around the attic, sensing his devious mind working again. That made me happy—he was thinking of me, I assumed, not the maid.

“Lie back on the bed,” he finally said in a voice of command.

I stared at him wondering…
the bed or the mattress?

He heard my thoughts, “Lie back on the bedsprings, they won’t bite.”

I wasn’t sure of this, but I wouldn’t quarrel.

Although it wasn’t easy, I managed to scoot myself back on the springy metal bed and lie down just as he ordered.
Would he keep me here, a prisoner in my father’s house?
I felt strangely giddy when he began to tie my wrists to the headboard and my ankles to the foot rail. I even rubbed my scorched ass end into the metal webbing as my clamoring arousal surfaced.

“You’re horny, huh?”

“Yes, of course.”

“That’s good. While I’m meeting with your father, you’ll have some time alone to consider what a slut you are.” He laughed as he observed my quivering body all rope-bound and testing the knots. I could barely move. “Poor little rich slut…think about that, deprived of her pleasure by an overactive mind, now being used by a scoundrel she hardly knows. Where’s it going to lead?” He asked the very question I was asking myself.

A moment later, Garrison turned away and dug through his satchel, finally pulling from it a thinner cane than the one Angelica used to stripe my bottom. Standing over me, he tapped my breasts lightly at first,
then
came down hard on them several times. I shrieked under my breath, being still too chicken to make much noise.

I gazed where Garrison was looking, seeing thin, red welts rise on the pale white skin; I knew he liked what he saw, as did I. He moved on marking my thighs, which made my body seize up almost angrily. I cried softly, tossing my head back and forth as if that would take away the pain. He moved on to my pussy, poking it with his wicked baton as a reminder that my arousal had not dissipated in the slightest.
Far from it.

He rubbed the clit with the side of the shaft,
then
teased the tip of the baton around my vaginal opening till I began to moan quietly. It was sore there from the night before when he fucked me at the oak tree. But still, I wanted his cock between my legs again. That was my wish. Of course, he had another torture in mind; he’d make me wait, make me suffer; he seemed to enjoy seeing me suffer.

When he suddenly stopped tormenting me, he turned away and I immediately panicked. “You’re not going to leave me here, are you?”

“Yes, I am,” he said succinctly. He peered back over his shoulder at my distraught face.

“But when will you come back?”

“Don’t know.” He shrugged. “But I’ll let Angelica know that you’re here, in case I forget.” He was laughing inside. I could see the mirth on his lips, although he didn’t actually smile.

“But why?”
Anything to keep him from leaving.

“Because it pleases me, Heiress…” he paused, smiling broadly now, “as much as it pleases you.”

I couldn’t reply fast enough to that last remark. He’d already tugged the chain attached to the bare light bulb. Then he closed the attic door on his way out. Swallowed up in darkness, helpless and alone, I was forced to face my own thoughts and the strange comfort provided by the bed of steel.

Some sinking dread covered me in fear for the next five minutes. I hated what I’d just become to him—a toy, not a woman to pleasure, just a toy for him to manipulate. But how could I quarrel with him? I’d given him permission to awaken my sexuality—discreetly. What could be more discreet than this? No one would find me here but his accomplice, the sassy maid.

I wondered what lying on this metal bed had to do with sexual pleasure. Perhaps this was for his sadistic pleasure, not my own sexual satisfaction. As for me, the arousal I’d felt for the last nasty hour fled in face of my discomfort, fear and solitude…

And why not!
Why wouldn’t my body dry up and slink back to the beastly wasteland of my pre-sexually-awakened consciousness?

Oddly enough, however, my despair lasted only briefly. My banished sexual arousal was still with me, waiting on the sidelines to return. It crept in like a slinking cat, tiptoeing lightly, tickling my bared and exposed pubis. The first sensuous spasm in my belly served notice to an addled brain that wanted to deny what was taking place. Once my mind gave in and let go of its judgment, a flood of desire swept in like a freak summer storm. I began to move frantically on that dreadful bed, feeling the springs that held me and the rope that bound my limbs only serve to increase my arousal. I wanted to scream, to thrash back and forth against the squeaky springs. Though I didn’t scream
,
my muscles strained against the bindings, making the bed frame shake enough to scoot several inches from the wall.

I fucked the air with my empty pubis, thrusting my mound high, seeking some imaginary prick. My lips were parched with desire, my breathing a rasping unearthly sound. Nothing seemed to help my growing distress. There was no way to cum, no matter how I struggled or how desperate I was or how much I frantically thrashed about.

I finally settled; I had no choice. Maybe a half hour had passed since Garrison left. It might be hours before I’d see him, or anyone, again.

I would not go mad! I vowed.

I forced myself to breathe evenly and let the unrest in me ease. I breathed deeply, forcing my mind to focus on the sensuous bondage and the lewd vulgarity of my plight. In time, a profound pleasure began to surface; one more submissive and yielding. Out of that sensuous state, the most bizarre thoughts entered my mind…

Sex wasn’t all about pleasure, and pleasure wasn’t just a powerful climax. Sex was a state of mind, of emotion and the physical body, part of an expanded consciousness where everything that mattered met. Denying my sexuality was denying me. How wrong thinking could I have been? I didn’t even know myself. I couldn’t have. It was clear now that there was much more to Eleanor Rule than ambition and success. I was at last beginning to know the sexual woman underneath the layers of modesty and good manners, under the tightly restraining rules I’d followed until I was parched and cold. I suppose if it took these extremes to pry open my real self, I could bear the treatment. More than bear it, I could look forward to Garrison’s next nasty scheme.

I drifted for a time, listening to myself think. Then I drifted for a long while thoughtlessly, until the sound of the doorknob jiggling startled me awake.

“So, how’s the heiress now?” Garrison strode to my side.

“I’m all right.”

“Perhaps you’d like to stay like this the entire day?”

“No, no. I don’t think so.”

I became worried that he’d actually make me stay here. But in the light that came from the hallway, I could see him
grin
a cunning, lurid grin.
A ‘fuck me’ kind of grin.

The quiet fire between my thighs flamed hot again.

“So, what do you think of yourself now?” he asked, as he began to untie the ropes.

“I think I’d like you fucking me again,” I said.

He nodded as he moved from my feet to free my wrists, undoing the tightly knotted hemp. Finally lifting me from the bed, he pushed me down on the mattress, dropped to his knees behind me and pushed his groin in close to my ass. His fingers combed my flesh with a light touch to start, which turned into mauling, vicious grabs. He stuck his fingers in my cunt, then in my ass and finally gave away his plan.

“You’re still wet. Are you still aroused?”

I didn’t have to answer, for it was apparent the way his fingers easily moved inside my asshole and I shamelessly wiggled back against them. What Angelica started, he would finish.

Seconds later, he shoved his dick inside me and I screamed in a faint sort of way. I’d been afraid, seizing up again at the thought of an anal rape I couldn’t handle. But I could handle this. His erection was warm and surging with life, penetrating with a human force I could respond to.

“Yesss, yes, yes!”
I heard my own exclamations, amazed by how this felt like the next right thing for my initiation.

The wild explosion returned; pain and pleasure took over every inch of me. I became nothing but sensation and surrender. I don’t recall if I
orgasmed
as he took me in the ass. I imagine so; but it hardly seemed to matter. The moment mattered; my oblivion mattered; our two fused bodies and his pleasure mattered most to me. I was satisfied by much more than just the physical sensation. I can’t recall another blessed thing about that moment but a mindless pleasurable bliss.

Later, after his cock left its seed dripping from my anus, I felt empty, a gigantic kind of empty that swallowed me in sadness as if I’d lost something special I was afraid I would never have again.

Garrison found a chair on the far side of the attic, so hidden by shadows that I hadn’t seen it before. He pulled it to the middle of our sex stage and sat, while I remained like a humble servant at his feet. I sat between his open thighs and gazed up at him.