I laughed again, and Ville demanded to know why, but I couldn't answer. He wouldn't see the funny side, and for that, I'd get a beating.
I didn't want a beating.
My bruises were fading, and they no longer hurt when I rubbed my arms to keep warm.
“Shut her up, for fuck's sake.” I was annoying Wynter.
She ventured from the stairs to dwell in the shadows like the monster she was.
Ville pulled me up onto one knee from my slouched-on-my-butt position; my other leg remained stretched out.
Ville's t-shirt was tugged over his head and placed over mine. He dragged my arms through the sleeves, and I almost gagged at the feel of his sweat sticking to me.
I’d rather be fucking cold.
He unzipped his jeans, and with a struggle, shimmied out of them.
I looked up to him to see his boxers had come down with his jeans. I wouldn't look back down. Too many times had that happened, and too many times had the open kitchen door and the light that shined through, allowed me to see that his hygiene wasn't what it should be.
“Be my good whore and please me,” his gruff voice demanded.
I dropped my eyes low enough to see his penis, semi-flaccid and peeping out through his thick waft of graying pubic hair.
I didn't waste time, wanting this over quicker than physically possible.
I opened my mouth slightly, and his penis’ slimy head nudged at my lips.
“Don't be shy; it's not like we haven't done this before.”
I opened wide, and his cock thickened on my tongue as it moved in and out of my mouth.
My gaze traveled the room, not wanting to look at the man abusing my mouth. I saw Wynter. It was dark where she sat, but I could still make out her hand rubbing at her pussy, enjoying this while I hated it.
Tears burned my eyes, and the vision in my right eye became a blur, matching the permanent damage in my left.
Ville picked up his pace, violently face-fucking me. His stumpy dick hit the back of my throat multiple times. Wynter's rhythm picked up, too, her own fingers assaulting her clit. She watched her husband fuck my mouth, and she moaned and got off on it.
Ville's fingers weaved in my hair, the action calling my eyes to his. The vile smile on his ugly face reminded me he'd stolen from my mind, as well as my body.
His fingers dug into my scalp, coaxing me forward. He thrust into my throat, hard and fast, and I gagged repeatedly, but he didn't care.
I needed to steady myself, my knee wobbling beneath me. My hands gripped Ville's thighs, and my nails digging into his skin, spurred him on.
He pulled his cock from my mouth, dripping with my spit. And like he often did when he was close, he began masturbating in my face. The tip of his cock bashed my lips as he vigorously fucked his hand.
It wasn't a second before he came. . . Wynter too, her body slumping back was evidence.
Ville's cum hit me in the face, running down my cheeks like tears.
He lifted my face with rough fingers, and he looked down at me, in so many ways, before he rubbed his cum into my cheeks.
He laughed, blowing me a kiss as he tugged up both his underwear and his pants. “Good for the skin.”
“As a reward, I'll have the kid visit you tomorrow, but I can't guarantee which version of him you'll get.”
I didn't care at this point. It had been another fucking week. And I’d be grateful to see Woodrow, Woody, or even Hell.
“Thank you,” I stupidly said.
