Olivias Secret

Olivia ran one hand through the fog on the bathroom mirror. When she saw the end of the tattoo that curled around her collarbones like a necklace she tried to reposition herself to hide it.

She sighed and cleared off more of the mirror. She looked over her body with sad, tired eyes. She held her hands in front of her breasts, trying to remember what she had looked like before getting implants. She wondered if she would ever be able to get them out, to have the tattoo removed, and to somehow go back to who she used to be. She looked at the scars on her forearms and upper thighs and she felt like she could cry.

"Hurry up in there!" A shouting voice accompanied a pounding at the door. "Some of us have to get to work!"

"I'm sorry!" Olivia pulled her baggy sweatshirt over her head. She wrapped a towel around her wet hair and another around her hips. She grabbed her clothes from the floor and rushed out.

"I don't know why you can't wait until we leave to shower. It's not like you have a job," her roommate Nick said to her in an annoyed tone. "Did you at least leave some hot water this time?"

"I'm sorry." Olivia couldn't look at him. He wasn't angry, just irritated, but it was still more than she could handle. She rushed to the apartment's small living room, pulling a makeshift curtain shut behind herself.

She didn't have many clothes, so it didn't take her long to select an outfit. She dressed in baggy cargo pants, a sports bra, and her baggy black hooded sweatshirt. Her blonde hair was still wet, but she took off the towel to let it air dry.

"Are you dressed? Can I come in?" The voice accompanied a gentle knock on the wall just past the curtain.

She hurried over to pull the curtain aside for her other roommate, Keith. She mumbled another apology and rushed back to pick up her clothes from the floor by the couch.

"No, don't do that," Keith told her. He put his hands on her shoulders. "Don't apologize for being here. It's okay. We're happy to help you out until you're on your feet. Nick is just annoyed, he's not mad at you."

Olivia looked at him and nodded, but she still winced when she heard the shower stop.

"I'm going to go get ready for work," Keith said. "Let's talk after. Come meet us at O'Connor's around five and we can help you figure out a plan, okay?"

Olivia nodded.

"Okay?" Keith asked more intensely, shaking her gently by her shoulders.

"Okay," Olivia managed, a small smile touching her lips.

*****

Olivia had met Keith on the bus two weeks earlier. It was after her second night in a homeless shelter, and she was on the edge of tears at the prospect of going back. Keith had sat across the aisle from her and asked her what was wrong.

They talked for a while. Keith missed his stop, and they got off together at the next one. He bought her a sandwich and told her she could stay with him and his roommate until she figured things out.

Olivia couldn't tell Keith much about herself. She didn't know who she was or where she was from. She couldn't tell him that she had been kept as a slave in an old industrial building. That she didn't know her real name, that she was known as Whore Seven until she escaped. She had heard the name Olivia on the radio and decided she liked it.

She couldn't tell him that she had only vague memories of her childhood or her parents. She had spent a long time in a haze of drugs. After that she had been kept in a cage like an animal, taken out to be exercised, bathed, or fucked.

She told him that she didn't know where her family was or how to find them. She told him that she didn't have any money or ID, but she was sure she could pay him back when she found out who she was. She told him that he was the only the second person she could ever remember being kind to her.

*****

Olivia knocked on the pub's window, hoping to get Keith's attention. Nick looked up instead. He let out an exhausted sigh when he saw the sad look in her eyes. He tapped Keith on the shoulder.

Keith looked up at her and smiled. He waved her over. Olivia put up her hands in a helpless gesture and shook her head. Keith said something to Nick, then stood up and left the table. A minute later he walked up to Olivia outside the bar.

"They wouldn't let me in without an ID," Olivia explained.

"Of course. I'm sorry. Maybe we can just get a coffee and take a walk instead."

Olivia nodded. It was a beautiful spring evening. She felt warm in her oversized sweatshirt, but she didn't dare take it off and reveal her body.

They walked and talked. Keith offered suggestions for how she could figure out who she was. Olivia didn't want to go back to the shelter and was terrified of the police. She had been taken out to fuck enough officers when she was known as Whore Seven, and she was terrified one of them would take her back to the place she had escaped.

They were walking through a park and discussing how they might use social media when a sound made Olivia freeze.

"Good girl!" A woman said to a large, fluffy dog as she took a tennis ball from the dog's mouth.

Olivia's body locked up. Her nipples were suddenly hard and sensitive, and the confinement of her sports bra chafed her. Her pussy felt warm and swollen, and the scratchy fabric of her cargo pants was unbearable. She felt like she could orgasm at the slightest movement. She clamped her thighs together and couldn't take another step.

"Are you okay?" Keith reached out to touch her arm. She felt weak and dropped her latte on the pavement. She wasn't sure how she was still standing.

"Let's get you home." Keith's eyes were confused and kind.

*****

"Are you afraid of dogs? Did that Newfie scare you?" Keith asked. He hadn't talked on the walk home, and Olivia had hoped he wouldn't say anything about it.

"No, that's not it. Just please, don't..." she pleaded weakly.

"It's like something happened to you when that woman said 'good girl'," Keith continued to try to make sense of what had happened.

Olivia squirmed. Her whole body felt unbearably sensitive, and the fabric touching her skin was overstimulating.

"That's it, isn't it?" Keith saw her reaction. "You're reacting to the phrase 'good girl'."

Olivia writhed. She pulled at the hem of her sweatshirt, trying to resist the urge to tear it off.

"Please..." she begged. She didn't know if she was begging him to stop or to do something else.

"It's okay," Keith said, putting his hands on her shoulders. She squirmed at the unbearable pleasure of a man's touch. She needed those hands all over her. She needed to feel his skin on hers.

She ripped her sweatshirt off, followed immediately by her sports bra. Keith stared at her body, mesmerized.

Olivia was slim. Her shoulders and abs were sculpted, but soft. Her breasts were on the larger side, probably a large c-cup or a small d-cup. They were impossibly perky and round and seemed to defy gravity as they bounced in front of him.

She grabbed his hands and placed them on her breasts. He squeezed them and lifted them slightly to feel their weight. Olivia moaned softly. Keith pinched her hard nipples and rolled them in his fingers. Olivia gasped.

Keith pushed her down on the couch and moved on top of her. He gently bit one nipple before rolling his tongue around her areola in small circles. She let out loud yelps of pleasure while she wiggled out of her pants.

Keith sat up to admire Olivia's lower body. Her hips were curvy, and her thighs were also sculpted but soft. He ran his fingertips gently down one leg, and she bit her lip and looked at him with desperate, pleading eyes.

Keith pushed Olivia's knees apart and dove between her legs. He buried his tongue in her wet pussy, savoring the taste and moving his face gently from side to side. Olivia came almost immediately, twitching and trembling.

She breathed heavily as she recovered from her orgasm. She closed her eyes and focused on the feeling of Keith's tongue lapping at her pussy, of his nose rubbing on her and occasionally making her tense as it found her clit, of his scratchy stubble on her smooth thighs.

Keith moved slightly up and sucked on her clit. The intensity of the feeling made her buck her hips. She grabbed him tightly by his hair. He started to rub his tongue against her clit, and she ground her pussy on his face while she whimpered at him.

In a barely coherent stream of mumbles she told him how good it felt. She told him how badly she needed him. She told him how she wanted him to make her cum.

As Olivia built towards her second orgasm her begging became higher pitched and breathier. When she came again she squeezed Keith's head with her thighs. She trembled and shook, her body tense and her ass lifted off of the couch.

It felt like an eternity before she crashed back down and released Keith. She felt drained in the most pleasurable way. She felt ready to drift off into a peaceful sleep, free from all of her worry and anxiety.

"Good girl," Keith said from between her legs, a satisfied smirk on his face.

"I need you!" Olivia begged, her body suddenly re-energized. She grabbed at his shirt and pulled it over his head. "I need you to fuck me now!"

Keith sat up and pushed her down. She watched as he unfastened his belt with agonizing slowness. He savored the desperation in her eyes as he unfastened his pants and pulled them down.

When Keith's cock popped free she scooted towards him, lifting her hips and trying to find it with her eager pussy. Keith pushed his hips into hers, and she felt his hard shaft up and down the length of her wet slit. He leaned forward, grabbed the back of her head, and kissed her.

Olivia eagerly explored his mouth with her tongue. She rubbed her pussy up and down his cock, feeling close to another orgasm. He slid his cock all the way back, and she felt the head line up with the entrance to her pussy.

She bit Keith's lip as she felt him slide into her. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him deep into her. She ground her hips against his and trembled as she came.

Olivia was dimly aware of the sound of the front door opening. She felt Keith try to pull away, but she held him with all of her strength, digging her nails into his back and pulling him deep into her with her legs.

When her orgasm subsided, Olivia started to grind her hips against Keith. He pinned her arms over her head and thrust into her with long, slow strokes.

"Fuck me! Fuck me! You're gonna make me cum again!" Olivia called out in a loud, panting voice.

"Oh my god, I'm gonna..." Keith warned her.

Olivia stuck out her tongue and nodded eagerly at him. Keith pulled out and grasped his cock tightly. He moved up a little, and then his cock started to pulse. He shot several sprays of cum across her tongue, her face, her collar bones, and her fake tits.

Olivia grabbed Keith's ass and pulled him towards her. She wrapped her lips around his cock and moaned with satisfaction as she milked out the last drops of cum with her tongue.

She massaged his cock with her tongue until he finally pulled back. He laughed a little as he looked at the cum coating her body.

"Let me go get you a towel," he offered. Keith pulled up his pants and left the living room.

"Dude..." Olivia heard Nick's voice from the other room. It sounded like appreciation, maybe respect.

She closed her eyes. She wanted to roll over, but didn't want to smear cum on the couch. Olivia felt like she could sleep for a week.

"That was a surprise," she heard Keith say as she felt a towel dabbing at the cum on her chest. "A good surprise, but still..."

He dabbed at her collar bones, and then ran his finger around them in a wide circle. Olivia's eyes shot open, all of the peaceful relaxation suddenly gone.

"Be a good girl," he read slowly. The words were written backwards, intended for her to see whenever she saw herself in a mirror.

She felt a fresh flush of arousal, and she froze with terror. She silently prayed that the moment would pass without Keith saying anything else. She hoped that he wouldn't understand that he had primed her to respond to his next command.

"Tell me what happened to you," Keith asked in a sensitive voice.

Olivia was compelled to obey.

*****

Olivia's past was largely unknown to her, but there were things she vaguely recollected. She grew up somewhere in the suburbs. She had impressions of large yards and spending a lot of time in cars, driving from place to place.

She couldn't remember if there was anything traumatic in her past, but she had started getting into trouble young. She started smoking in middle school. She cut herself, and the scars were permanently displayed on her body. She would take any drugs she could get her hands on.

She was in and out of counseling and therapy. She was on various mood-stabilizing drugs. She was committed at least once, maybe more than that.

She attempted suicide during her first year of community college. When she looked at the scars on her wrists she couldn't be sure if it was a real attempt or some sort of cry for attention. Her parents had her committed to a private care facility.

She could remember almost nothing of the facility. She was heavily drugged. She knew she was subjected to some kind of intensive behavioral therapy, but she couldn't remember what happened. She knew that was where she met the man she knew as Dr. Goodcock.

Dr. Goodcock took her from the treatment center and brought her to an old industrial building in a state of disrepair. It was there that the drug haze started to subside. She was kept in a cage by Dr. Goodcock, several masked assistants, and a few other girls. She learned that they could arouse her by calling her a good girl, or command her to do anything they wanted by telling her to be a good girl.

Dr. Goodcock only called her Whore Seven, and she couldn't remember her real name. He prostituted her to a seemingly endless series of men. Sometimes she would be commanded to fuck a half-dozen men in a day. Sometimes she would be restrained and fucked without any command or compelled arousal.

Sometimes Dr. Goodcock would punish her. He would restrain her by her wrists and ankles to some bondage device. He would have his assistants call her a good girl, pushing her to ever-increasing levels of arousal. He would keep her there for days, unbearably aroused and unable to find any release. When he decided she had enough he would fuck her, sometimes with his cock but usually with a batton, and then let her go back to her cage.

She had no idea how long she was kept there. Days blurred into one long, endless nightmare. When Dr. Goodcock thought she was broken enough, he had her help with the other slaves. At first she brought them meals and led them through exercise routines. Eventually he started commanding her to ready them to be fucked and to participate in their punishment.

One day he commanded Olivia to put a petite redhead named Whore Thirteen into a stockade. Olivia whipped Whore Thirteen with a flogger, fingering her pussy regularly to check her level of arousal. It was evident to Olivia that Whore Thirteen didn't enjoy being restrained and flogged.

"You're a good girl, Whore Thirteen. Good girls like you enjoy whatever treatment Dr. Goodcock prescribes for them," Olivia told her. She checked her pussy again and found it wet and sensitive. Olivia's own body didn't seem to react when she said the words, but the other girl's did.

Olivia was made to stand and watch as a heavyset man in a grey suit entered the room. Dr. Goodcock didn't command her to stay still with her trigger phrase, he just told her what to do and she did it.

She watched the stranger fuck Whore Thirteen. She saw the redhead orgasm on the man's cock, then go limp. Her eyes were blank and her face expressionless. It must have been the last straw that pushed her over the edge, and Olivia saw Dr. Goodcock break the woman.

Dr. Goodcock told Olivia to go back to her cage and lock herself in. He didn't compel her with her trigger phrase, he just told her and expected her to obey. On her way back to her cage, Olivia saw a fire escape. She somehow summoned the courage to escape. She must have had some hidden reserve, some last bit of herself that Dr. Goodcock hadn't yet broken.

An alarm sounded when she pushed open the heavy door. The sunlight outside nearly blinded Olivia. She ran, her bare feet grating on the rough pavement, not looking back to see if she was pursued. She ran into the road, and a truck stopped for her.

When she felt the trucker's eyes on her naked body, Olivia was terrified. She didn't know what this strange man would do to her, and felt powerless to resist him. Luckily, he was kind to her. He gave her some of his clothes to cover herself. She could have fit her whole body into one leg of his shorts, but they were better than nothing. He drove her into the city.

She lived on the streets for almost a week. It was hard finding food, water, shelter, and the other basic necessities of life. She constantly felt threatened by the other homeless people. She tried to move into a shelter, but found that experience wasn't much better.

The shelter had a limited number of spots for long-term residents. It was a long wait to get one, and a complicated process. She would have to get into a treatment program, and that prospect terrified her. She would have to fill out paperwork that required personal information she didn't have.

Olivia stayed briefly in temporary housing, where a woman could get a bed for a night at a time. The program was over capacity, and many of the women slept on the floor. Olivia found the other women hostile and aggressive, and it was clear that they didn't want her to compete with them for the limited space that was available.

Before Keith had found her, Olivia had no idea what she would do. She had started to feel like there was no place for her before he took her in.

*****

When Olivia finished telling her story, she fell almost immediately asleep. She had let out everything she had been keeping in, and the sexual release and the relief of her confession left her drained. Keith wanted to ask her a million questions, but instead he wiped the cum from her face and carried her to his bed.

Olivia woke up the next morning to the feeling of Keith rolling over and putting one arm and one leg over her. She could feel his hard cock pressed against her ass.

She stumbled and fell to the floor in her rush to be out of his bed. She threw open the door and checked quickly to make sure Nick wasn't there to see her naked body.

"Are you okay?" Keith said to her back as she hurried out, closing the door behind herself. She went to the bathroom where she threw water on her face. She wanted to wash off the dried cum and the shame of the previous night.

There was a knock at the door.

"Seriously? Are you going to use up all the hot water again when you know I have to be at work and you don't?" Nick's voice called to her.

"Sorry!" She yelled. She looked for something to cover herself with, but she had left her towels in the living room and hadn't taken any clothes in with her.

She heard a muffled conversation, then a gentler knock on the door. "Olivia, can you open the door so we can talk?" Keith's voice called to her.

Olivia trembled with fear and indecision. She opened the door a crack, mostly because she didn't know what else to do. She held one arm across her breasts and tried to cover her pussy with her other hand.

Keith stood in the door wearing boxer shirts and an old T-shirt. He looked down at her attempt to cover herself and frowned. "What's going on? I thought we connected last night?"

"You thought what?" Olivia was incredulous. "You took advantage of me! I was weak and vulnerable, and you used me!" Her voice was a harsh whisper.