THERE'S NO WARNING.
Mikey's hands close around my upper-arms, and a second later, I'm hefted up, slammed down on the top of the dining table, barely three inches from his plate, hard enough my hip bones will likely have bruises tomorrow.
Dishes clatter across the rough surface.
A few guests look at us with surprise.
Mikey pushes my ankles wider with his boots.
His fingers find my pussy. "This is a hungry cunt, Tara," he breathes in my ear, dragging stubble along the tend skin of my shoulders.
He fits the broad head of his cock at my entrance, rubs it up and down the slit, over my clit, making me mewl and whine and beg.
"The thing is, Tara, you do want cock. I saw it in your eyes the minute I first looked at you. You were hungry for it. I gave you three days, but now your real training begins." He slams in so hard my teeth chatter, and all I can do is hold on to the table.
He rears back, thrusts in, ramming in deeper. He gets the angle just right. There's something, some place he's hitting that I don't think I've felt before. It's perfect.
"Yes," I say, meaning the way he's fucking me, but he thinks I'm agreeing to training. Maybe I am.
I don't even know who I am anymore. All I am is a cunt now, in this moment, a burning cunt and a throbbing clit. Oh and my nipples. They drag along the table and I writhe like a wild thing.
He fucks me in long, smooth strokes, the kind that smack of ownership, command, power. He's not just fucking me to get off now, and he's not making love like he did in the shower.
He's fucking me now to put me in my place, he's fucking me to subjugate me, dominate me, and he keeps talking into my ear, that deep voice of his making my spine curl.
"You like being out of control, so that's what I'll give you. If you want to cry and say no and scream you can, but it won't change a thing. From here on, I own you. You do exactly as I say, when I say it."
"Uhn, uhn, uhn." My throat makes noises, and I just hold on for dear life.
"We've got ten more days, Tara, until you're done here, and in that time, I will make you live on cum. You will eat, sleep and breathe for it. You will crawl and beg, you will lick balls like your life depends on it, and take cocks in your ass, and you will worship me as your god."
He pounds against my cervix, gets a crushing grip on one of my tits, his balls slap against my clit.
"Yesssss," I moan, incoherent, powerless to stop the sounds coming from my throat. I repeat yes like it's a mantra, my eyes rolling back in my head, headless of whoever might be watching. And a lot of people are watching.
I focus on my cunt.
Those were Mikey's words that first day. They've never made more sense to me. I have no power here. There is no purpose to worry or anxiety or nerves. Nothing matters. I can change nothing. I can only feel. My only job is to focus on my cunt.
So I do it.
I focus on my cunt and squeezing those muscles tight around the massive cock invading it, rolling my hips to get the glide inside me just right. I grip the edge of the table, I rise up on my tip toes, I arch my back. He's right. He is my god and I live for him and his cock and whatever he wants to do with me, I will take it, anything.
He's earned that.
And so have I. That bastard Jay brought me here, but it's not him I'll ever be this way for. This part of me belongs to me alone, I will give it only to those I choose. For Mikey.
I slam back, meeting his thrust, grinding against him, arching my back so my nipples drag on the table.
"That's it," Mikey says, all gruff and raw in my ear. "Good girl, Tara. That's your one job here. To make sure this feels good. You want it. Say it."
I don't.
But not because I'm being difficult. I'll do anything for Mikey right now. It's just that I can't multitask with his dick ramming my cervix, and I'm beyond any rational speech.
He shakes me like a doll in his grip, and my teeth rattle. His hands closes around my throat.
"Say it, Tara. Admit it. Own what you are."
I moan.
He slaps my ass.
I moan louder.
He slaps me harder.
I like that. My moan becomes a scream. I want more.
He slaps even harder, too many times in a row for me to count in quick succession.
It hurts. It makes me focus. "What?"
"You want my cock."
I snarl. "Are you stupid?"
Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap. The hand around my throat tightens to a punishing grip, and his thrusts if anything get harder. "Do you want my cock?"
"Yes! I want it. Fuck me, you bastard. Just fuck me."
He slams into me harder, laughing and breathing against the skin of my throat. His grip on my neck loosens, his thumb dragging up and down in an undeniable carees.
I should shut my mouth but I don't. It's like some damn just broke inside me. My mouth won't stop. I just keep on talking, saying whatever mindless senseless words come out of them. "I'll do what you say. I don't care. I'll be your whore, but if you let that fucker anywhere near me, I will slit your throat in your sleep. I'll use my goddamned teeth or my nails or whatever it takes. If you let him touch me again, I'll kill every single person in this place."
His mouth is at my neck, his teeth bit down. "I never make the same mistake twice. You won't see him again unless you ask for him."
A small flicker runs through my mind, the sanity under the sickness of my obsession with cum, that trusting Mikey is beyond stupid. But there's something else, something I can't deny with him. It's like my body is hardwired to want this man. Something about him stirs something in me. It's something I deeply distrust, but I am powerless against it.
His hands are at my hips. He drags me backward, so only my face rests on the table.
"Use your fingers on your clit. Make yourself come all over my cock."
I don't need to be asked twice. I'm right there on the edge. I have been since I realized I was humping his foot like a cat in heat while I swilled his balls. My fingers kick up a fast rhythm, he shoves one, then two fingers up my ass and that's all it takes. The orgasm hits like a riptide current rushing straight from my clit to my mouth. It's like an asteroid just hit earth and landed right on my clit, everything explodes outward in a cataclysmic monstrous earth-shattering eruption of sheer fucking orgasm. I think I'm screaming, I have no idea.
Mikey isn't usually quiet when he comes, and this time he's especially noisy. It's like he's half laughing, half groaning with pleasure.
When he's done I collapse on the table spent and make no move to rise. I doubt I could if I wanted to.
He keeps moving in and out for a while, scooping cum from around his cock, and pushing it into my asshole. It sends little after-ripples of orgasm through me that keep my leg shaking.
The red-head's words are starting to make sense. This is why she comes here. So she can feel that sense of total surrender, just let go, not be in charge or responsible anymore. But the difference is she's free to go at any time, and I'm not.
And sometimes she sleeps with Mikey's cock in her mouth. I frown.
"Mikey?" My voice comes out a whisper. "I want to be allowed to wear clothes if I want to.