The Bet (7 page)

Somehow,
I managed to force my body to stop reacting. I couldn’t tell you how I did it,
with the mass of tangled, enflamed nerves that seemed to be electrically
charged.

Jones
just kept kissing me, holding my head still with his insanely strong hands and
even biting down on my tongue once when I struggled too much. Almost as soon as
the plug was fully free from my body, Jones stopped kissing me and released my
hair. Moments later, my ankles and wrists were pulled free, as well.

I
groaned as I pulled my aching limbs in, curling up in a near fetal position.

“Tomorrow,”
Bradford barked at me.

Before
I knew it, he and Jones were out the door. I lay there, hoping beyond hope that
Thornton would take pity on me and leave me like that for a bit.

That
wasn’t going to happen though.

“Get
up and let me inspect you.” His voice was even harsher than Bradford’s.

I
rolled over, trying to get my limbs to cooperate. That was when I got my first
good look at him. Thornton was easily six foot six and two hundred and fifty
pounds of raw, tattooed, chiseled muscle, in a wife beater and a tight pair of
jeans that showed off every bulge in his legs, plus the huge one between them.
He looked like a freaking body builder, or maybe one of those professional
wrestlers who was all brawn and no brain.

Something
told me he wouldn’t like the ‘no brain’ part of that description.

“Get
up before I pull you up by your hair, Slut.”

On
shaking legs, I somehow complied. Once I was standing before him, he smacked my
right breast hard.

“Arms
behind your back, legs at least shoulder width apart.”

Maybe
he was more like a drill sergeant. Thornton was barking off orders like crazy.

I
put my arms behind my back and spread my legs like he’d commanded. As soon as I
was in the position, his hands were all over me. He lifted my breasts into his
hands as though weighing them, measuring the size of my nipples against his
hard fingers. He shoved the flats of his palms over every inch of me. He forced
my jaw open and shoved his fingers inside, almost like he was inspecting my
teeth. And then what really took the cake was when he knelt down between my
legs and examined every bit of my vagina (which he’d just been eating out, mind
you) and my ass.

Through
all of it, I did my best to maintain the position and not moan with the need I
so desperately felt.

Without
a word, he stood again and tossed me over his shoulder. By now, I knew better
than to voice a protest. A minute later, he sat me down on a toilet in a
massive bathroom. It was all decked out in marble and mirrors, and there were
so many lights it was liable to blind me. I froze as soon as my bare bottom hit
the cold toilet seat.

Not
because I didn’t need to go. I did, now that I took the time to think about it.
But because he hadn’t moved a muscle. He stood there staring at me, his massive
arms crossed over his chest.

“I’m
waiting,” he said a minute later, when I still hadn’t done anything.

Oh,
God. He was going to stand there while I peed, watching. I’d never been so
mortified.

I
strained, pressing my eyes closed, and eventually a stream started. When I was
done, I looked around for toilet tissue, but didn’t find any, so I looked up at
him again questioningly.

“All
done?” he barked.

I
nodded, blushing furiously.

In
a single movement, Thornton had me bent forward and was wiping my sex with a
piece of toilet tissue he must have pulled from his pocket.

He
didn’t let me go then, either. Instead, he carried me over to the huge shower
and lifted my arms over head. There was a bar hanging from the ceiling, and he
attached each wrist to the ends of it until I was stretched out almost on my
tiptoes. The almost part didn’t last long. Thornton grabbed another bar from
somewhere and attached my ankles to it, so that my legs were spread wider than
shoulder width and I could barely touch the bottom of the shower floor with my
toes.

He
stepped away for a minute, leaving me hanging there by my wrists. The pain in
my shoulders started to intensify, and I let out a moan.

I
shouldn’t have.

“Would
you rather we go back to the basketball court and handle your shower out
there?” He stepped up behind me and pulled my backside to him, so I could feel
the massive cock pressing into the small of my back. His hands were all over
me, tweaking my nipples and sliding between my spread thighs to the
ever-present flow of my juices. “I saw the feed, you know. And I have no problem
with doing that. I just thought you’d like a warm shower to start your day. You
know, before we get to your punishment and all.”

That
was definitely not something I wanted, and I had no doubt he’d follow through
on the threat. “No,” I mumbled.

A
sharp slap struck the inside of my thigh, so I quickly corrected myself. “No,
sir.”

“That’s
a good Slut.” Thornton moved away from me then. He pulled on a cord, and my bar
was lifted higher until I was spinning in a circle, suspended entirely by my
wrists. Then he pulled a knob, and the water hit me. It rained down over me,
nearly drowning me from above, hot to the point of almost scalding.

He
lathered up a sponge with soap and scrubbed me, much harder than was necessary,
all over. As expected, he spent a lot longer than required on my entirely too
sensitive areas. Then he shampooed my hair, careful to keep my head back so the
soap wouldn’t end up in my eyes. When he finished with that, he brought out a
razor and shaving gel, and shaved my armpits, my legs, and my pussy.

After
he was done cleaning me, he took a few minutes to lather himself up as well,
leaving me hanging by the bar with nothing to do but watch him. When he soaped
his cock, it got bigger. Harder. Good God.

Finally,
after we were both rinsed clean, he reached up to the cord again. I thought he
was going to release me, but instead he lowered me hard and fast, until I
landed with a smack on my knees. My arms were still held up high above me and
the shower was still beating down on us both, but he brought my head forward
and shoved his huge cock between my lips.

He
thrust in and out, forcing himself deeper each time his hips pressed forward. I
was surprised when he easily slipped past my gag reflex, enabling him to fuck
my throat. Thornton didn’t last long. So much cum filled my throat and mouth I
couldn’t keep it all in. It dripped from my lips and down my chin, and still he
shot more into me.

When
he was finally done, he held my head back beneath the shower and rinsed all of
it off of me. Then he turned the water off and left me as I was.

A
few minutes later, he returned dry and carrying a toothbrush. “Open,” he
commanded, then shoved it inside my mouth to brush my teeth.

Once
that was done, he unhooked me from all of my restraints and towel dried me so
hard that my skin was red and shining. He ran a comb through my hair. Before I
knew what was happening, he attached a dog collar around my neck and secured it
with a lock.

Thornton
stood back from me, then, looking me over from head to toe. “All right, Slut.
Time for breakfast.”

Thornton
hooked a leash to my collar and pulled me by it down the hall. From behind, I
could see that even his ass was solid muscle. It looked as hard as the rest of
them. I shivered but kept walking.

When
he stopped and moved to the side, I about fell over. Sitting in the middle of
the room was a medieval looking wooden contraption, like stocks they’d put
people in in the middle of town for humiliation, while they threw tomatoes and
potatoes and the like at them.

He
undid a lock and lifted the upper section, then turned to look at me with a
raised eyebrow.

I’d
thought he was going to feed me. What the hell? “You don’t seriously—”

Thornton
yanked on my leash before I could get any more than that out, sending me
sprawling to my hands and knees at his feet. I had no time to respond. He
grabbed both of my hands and positioned them in the stocks, shoved my head
forward, and then settled the top section over me.

It
was so low to the ground that my back was arched something crazy, with my pussy
and ass up high in the air. That was surely his aim.

Leather
cuffs were attached to my thighs just above my knees, and then a bar pushed
between them, forcing my legs wide. That apparently wasn’t enough for Thornton.
He grabbed one ankle and tugged it out at a crazy angle, then bent my leg until
he could hook an ankle cuff to the stocks, leaving just my kneecap on the
floor. The same happened to my other leg.

I
hoped he was done there, because I couldn’t think of a time I’d been more
uncomfortable in my life.

He
wasn’t.

Coming
around in front of me, he held up what looked like a giant fish hook with a
rounded point. He shoved the point in my mouth. “Get it real wet, because it’s
going in your ass, Slut.”

He
had to be kidding me. But somehow, I was sure he wasn’t. I worked up as much
spit as I could over that hook, trying to lubricate it as best I could.

Before
I was satisfied, he pulled it away and moved behind me, shoving it up my
asshole with no more warning. He plunged it deep, hard, showing my poor, aching
hole no mercy. Once he had it settled as deep as he wanted it, he attached it
to something overhead which raised my hips as far as they would go.

The
buzzing of some vibrating toy or another started up, and he attached it to a
stand and adjusted it beneath me just so, until it was pressed hard against my
clit. Damn if he didn’t spread my pussy lips and poke and prod at my clit,
until it was completely exposed to the thing.

“I’m
off to fix breakfast.” He landed three sharp smacks to my ass, and then he was
gone.

For
a long time.

Around
the point where my kneecaps were burning and my asshole was throbbing and my
clit felt like it was going to spontaneously combust in another mind-shattering
orgasm, the scents of bacon and eggs wafted into the room. I was in complete
mind-fuck state, where I couldn’t decide if I needed to eat more or needed to
come more.

I
tried to turn my head, but the stocks made that impossible.

Thornton
moved in front of me, carrying a tray with two plates and two glasses. He set the
tray down at a table in my line of sight and then started to eat. “Hungry?” he
asked, as he shoveled a bite into his mouth.

“Yes,
sir,” I said, though my voice sounded strangled.

He
nodded and kept eating. Several minutes passed with no change, other than my
stomach was now growling.

Finally,
he finished his plate and swallowed the last of his drink, popping a pill as he
did so. Thornton pushed a step stool in front of my face. Then he set my plate
and glass on it, slipping a straw into the glass.

I
couldn’t use my hands. I couldn’t even get any leverage, in my current
position. He was out of his mind.

Clearly,
he didn’t think so, though. Thornton stroked his cock, which was back to
monstrous status. “You’ve got until I fill your cunt with cum to eat and drink
as much as you want. I suggest you get to it.”

He
moved behind me, grabbed my hips, and thrust in to the hilt before I could
prepare myself for his invasion. The pressure of his hips against my ass cheeks
drove the hook deeper inside me, and the vibe was still dancing against my
clit, and I screamed in shock.

His
cock rammed in and out of me so fast and so hard that the stocks were rattling
against me. With each thrust, he was spearing my g-spot. I moaned with the need
to come.

“Eat
or you’ll miss your chance.” He smacked my ass and fucked me harder.

Somehow,
I forced my head down and got a couple of bites in. In case you were wondering,
it is not easy to concentrate on chewing and swallowing while being fucked in
doggy position like the fucker’s life depends on it, with your ass hooked to
the ceiling, your clit being buzzed to oblivion, and your head and hands in
stocks.