I squeeze my eyes shut but he pinches my clit between his fingers, rolling the piercing until my breath comes in ragged gasps. My nails dig into his thigh but he doesn’t stop, he just leans in, his voice a filthy whisper.
“See how your body begs? Even when your mouth fights me.”
I swallow hard, and then his fingers push inside me.
One finger, slow and deliberate, curling just enough to make my breath hitch. I bite my lip hard enough to taste blood, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a sound. But he adds a second finger, stretching me, his thumb still working my clit in rough, relentless circles.
“So tight,” he murmurs, his voice thick with amusement. ”And so fucking wet. You can lie to yourself Dumpling, but your cunt doesn’t.”
I whimper, my body betraying me as heat coils low in my belly. My thighs tremble, my hips rocking against my will, chasing the friction of his fingers. Shame burns through me, hot and suffocating.
“Hush,” he purrs, his lips brushing my ear. ”Just let it happen. I can feel how much you want this.”
“I don’t…” My voice breaks more as his fingers thrust deeper, his palm grinding against me.
“You do.” His teeth scrape my shoulder. ”Look at them. Look at how good they are for me. That could be you. You could have everything you ever wanted, if you just stopped fighting.”
My eyes flicker open against my will. The girls are lost in each other, their bodies slick with sweat, their moans rising in pitch as fingers and tongues push them closer to the edge. One of them, Anya catches my gaze and holds it, her dark eyes glazed with pleasure but sharp with something else too. She arches her back as Julie’s mouth closes around her nipple, her lips parting in a silent gasp. Anya’s fingers tangle in the other girl’s hair, pulling her closer, urging her on.
I try to look away, but Antonio’s grip tightens on my jaw, forcing me to watch.
“See?” hemurmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction.”They know their place. They know what they’re meant for.”
His fingers move faster inside me, curling just right, hitting that spot that makes my vision blur.
I bite down on my lip, trying to stifle the moan building in my throat, but it’s no use. A whimper escapes, low and broken and Antonio chuckles, his breath hot against my neck.
“That’s it” he purrs. ”Let them hear how sweet you sound. Let them see how pretty you are when you moan for me.”
I shake my head, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. ”No,” I whisper, my voice trembling.
“Yes,”he insists, his thumb pressing harder against my clit, his fingers thrusting deeper.”You’re mine, Dumpling. Your body knows it. Your cunt knows it. It’s time you accepted it.”
I can’t stop it. The heat coils tighter, hotter, until it’s unbearable. My hips jerk, my thighs trembling as the pleasure starts to crest, sharp and undeniable.
And then it stops. All of it stops. His fingers are no longer in me, touching me, pleasuring me.
I whimper with a desperate, disgusting need but he holds me still, his grip unrelenting.
“Good girls get rewards,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. ”And you, Dumpling, do not deserve it.”
I don’t answer. I can’t. It feels like he’s played me. No, he has played me, he made me want this. He made me… I hate him. Ihatehim.
My chest heaves, and my breath comes in ragged gasps as tears spill down my cheeks.
He brings his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean with a slow, deliberate motion that makes my stomach churn.
“Sweet,”he murmurs, his eyes locked on mine.”But not as sweet as you’ll be when you’re begging for me.”
I glare at him, my voice trembling with both pain and rage now. ”I’ll never beg for you.”
“We’ll see.” He says, pushing me off, pushing me onto the floor where I land in a heap before I’m dragged by my collar back to my corner.
The bars press into my spine as I slide down, and my knees crack against the floor. On the far side of the room the other women sprawl across their cots, their laughter thick and syrupy in the damp air. Free. Unbroken.
I fold myself into the tightest ball I can, my ribs pressing into my thighs. This cage is a tomb, just tall enough to sit, just wide enough to choke in. If I tuck my head just right, I can pretend the ache in my neck is a pillow.
My blanket is so small it barely covers me but I’m grateful for the warmth it gives, even if it’s not nearly enough to stop the tremors.
