This is the final part in this three-part story. It's short and has not one but two fights in it, to make up for the lack of a fight in part 2
My thanks again to the wonderful peccavi for loaning me her characters.
Cheers,
Scrib
*****
Edward and I drove back to our hotel, where I spent an hour soaking in the big whirlpool tub, soothing away the aches and pains in every muscle from the afternoon at Aisha’s. The hotel had a spa of course – we were in California after all – and we managed to book a massage each, which took care of any lingering twinges. By the time the sun set over the ocean, I felt ready to conquer the world – though I’d settle for this little town.
I knew Edward would be happy to stay in our suite and relax for the evening, but I wasn’t going to settle for a quiet night. I was ravenous after the strenuous after-lunch activities – to be fair, room service would have taken care of that. More than that though, I wanted to be out in public, among people, to enjoy myself and to be seen enjoying myself. I knew that small-town gossip would soon spread the word of what went on in Bill’s Bar the previous night and possibly even the happenings at Aisha’s house. I’d be damned if Melissa Windeyer was going to hide away here at the hotel. Let them see me proud and smiling, and let them gossip about that.
When I came downstairs again to the living room of our suite, Edward let out a long, appreciative whistle. I grinned at him as he confirmed that I’d hit the mark with my outfit. I’d gone for a blend of comfort and sexy, with soft black leggings that hugged my trim thighs and firm round butt, and four-inch stiletto-heeled mules. They rode low on my hips, revealing my smooth, sensuously curved tummy with the gold piercing glinting in the light. My matching sleeveless halter top ended just below my bosom, cradling my high, round breasts and showing a deep vee of cleavage. In deference to the cool of the evening, I’d chosen a leather jacket that hung open, framing my bare abs in black.
“Wow!” Edward’s smile was as wide as his eyes. He was dressed in jeans and a white shirt, loafers on his feet and a tan tweed sports jacket lay on the couch beside him.
“Thank you, Edward,” I beamed at him. “Shall we go?” I was feeling very good. Melissa Windeyer was back in control.
We drove back to Blue Water Village. I suppressed a shudder as we passed Aisha’s mansion at the top of the hill, but I reminded myself that what had happened to me there, earlier in the day, had not been cruel or forced upon me. In a way, I told myself, I should be flattered. I’d been the center of attention, desired by all, so much that they couldn’t keep their hands – or other things – off me. In a way, they’d been paying homage to me. I smiled to myself as Edward pointed the car down the hill into the village.
As we turned onto the street that paralleled the sand, I caught sight of what looked like a bar and grille closer to the base of the peninsula, facing the beach. There was a small parking lot with quite a few cars, and a bright neon sign. “Edward, let’s eat here.” One of the people at lunch had recommended a restaurant at the far end of the southern beach, but I wanted to make my own choices. Melissa Windeyer doesn’t follow others’ leads. I was determined that on this final night in town, I was going to show its people just what I’m made of.
There were some empty parking spaces and we found one close to the door. From the street, the building looked like it was single storey but the ground sloped down to the beach, so we entered on the second floor. Immediately inside the door was a stairway leading down to an already noisy bar on the lower level, but the restaurant was upstairs and we were hungry.
This place wasn’t as fancy as Waves where we’d eaten the night before, but the service was good and the food was delicious. We started out with deep fried calamari as an appetizer, and then Edward had steak and shrimp while I opted for lemon chicken. We shared a bottle of wine and by the end of the meal, I found myself able to joke a little about the events of the weekend. The more I thought about it, the more I talked about it, the more I realized that Aisha and her friends – the A-listers of Blue Water – had been paying me a deep and sincere compliment.
Edward settled the check and we decided to head downstairs to the bar for a while. The lower floor was a single big open space with thick pillars at intervals to support the level above. The wall closest to the beach was all glass, and there was a patio outside though it was deserted. The interior however, was well-patronized with the well-dressed clientele that we had come to expect in this town.
We found two stools near the end of the long bar that occupied most of the wall nearest the street. The bartender was a very short and very buxom black girl with long hair pulled back into a braid that fell to her waist. She was so short she had to use a step stool to operate the beer taps. Edward ordered a Scotch on the rocks, and I dithered over my choice of drinks.
The girl took a long look at me, flashed a smile and said, “I got just the thing for you honey.” She busied herself with a number of bottles, then returned with something very green in a long-stemmed cocktail glass. “It’s called ‘The Last Word’,” she informed us. She winked at Edward, who grinned, and I laughed out loud before taking a sip. I tasted gin, lime juice, and a couple other flavors. It was delicious, and I thanked her.
Edward and I people-watched as we sipped our drinks. The bar wasn’t packed though it was more than half full. The patrons were mostly our age or younger, situated in groups at the bar or at the numerous tables scattered about the room. I noticed a lot of piercings – not just belly buttons like I wore, but eyebrows, noses, cheeks and even, on a few of the women, lips and tongues. There were a few who bore no marks at all, but I couldn’t see anyone with a collar, and I mentioned that to Edward.
“Seems like this place is a hangout for the pierced,” he nodded, his eyes roving the room just like mine. I noticed him linger a moment on a petite Asian girl with hair down past her little butt – not that I blamed him, because she was gorgeous. She was part of a group, along with a short but stockier blonde, a taller blonde and a brunette, all in their mid-twenties. All were pierced in one or more places, and all were dressed to show off a lot of bare flesh.
They were not alone. Tight jeans and t-shirts prevailed among the men, and short skirts, tight leggings, bare backs and low necklines abounded among the women. I could almost feel the sexual tension in the room – Melissa Windeyer has an instinct for such things.
As if echoing my thoughts, Edward leaned close, his arm brushing my left breast, and murmured, “I’m surprised nobody’s getting off.”
I grinned and answered, “…yet. Give them time.” We both laughed.
As I continued to idly survey the room, I noticed two young women over by one of the supporting pillars, not far from the bar. The first time, I barely paid them any attention, but my eyes kept wandering back to them. I wasn’t sure why but like I said, Melissa Windeyer has an instinct for such things. I watched them over the rim of my glass as I sipped my drink.
One, leaning back against the pillar with her hands behind her, was slender, slim-hipped and small-breasted, with shoulder-length jet black hair framing her rounded, obviously Chinese features. She was surprisingly tall for an Asian, maybe a little taller than me – 5’8” or 5’9” even, and in her early twenties. She was dressed in black stretch pants and a long-sleeved white tee that was pulled up and knotted under her bosom, exposing her well-defined abs. A gold ring in her belly button gleamed in the soft yellowish light. Unlike most of the women in the room, she wore black sneakers – presumably she didn’t want to add too much to her already considerable height.
Her companion was older, maybe thirty, and much shorter, perhaps 5’1” or 5’2” though it was difficult to tell with the high heels she wore. She too was slim though not so much so as her companion, with a light tan, honey blonde hair and a petite little body squeezed into a tight-fitting, long-sleeved black mini-dress. She was also pierced, with a gold Monroe stud in her upper lip on the side nearest me, and when she smiled she flashed a matching gold barbell through her tongue.
The contrast between the two went deeper than just their appearance. The Chinese girl seemed shy, her head slightly bent, her eyes lowered. The blonde, on the other hand, was full of energy, smiling and leaning forward, waving her arms about as she did all the talking. The Asian girl smiled too but timidly. They were just too far away for me to make out what they were saying, but the Chinese girl nodded whenever the other one paused.
Imagine my surprise when, without any warning, the little blonde drove her fist into the Chinese girl’s bare belly. The taller one hunched over slightly, her face pinched in pain, but did nothing to retreat or defend herself. She straightened up again, and the blonde hit her a second time in precisely the same spot. I saw the Asian girl’s lips open in a soundless groan as she bent forward again, this time a little further.
For a moment I was shocked at the sudden unprovoked attack. My own tummy tingled in sympathy with the victim’s. I knew just what a belly blow like that could do to a girl – and not just in terms of pain. I shivered, but then I had the kind of inspiration that only Melissa Windeyer could have. I stood up, slipped off my shoes and let my jacket slide down my arms to the stool behind me. “Mind my drink, Edward.”
I didn’t give him a chance to object as I strode toward the two. Melissa Windeyer was going to do more than show this little town that I wasn’t afraid to show my face in public, that I wasn’t intimidated by some potential gossip. On the contrary, I was going to be the talk of the town by the time this night was over. I was about to be the woman who rescued the poor Chinese girl and put the little blonde bully in her place.
Before the blonde could strike a third blow, I walked up beside her, grabbed her by the shoulder and wrenched her around to face me. “Leave her alone, girl!” I put all the steel I could muster into my voice. The girl froze at my tone – after all, I
am Melissa Windeyer – her blue eyes wide. She was clearly not expecting to be confronted by someone who wasn’t afraid to stand up to her.
She recovered her composure quickly though. “Butt out, bitch!” she hissed. “She’s mine! This is none of your business!”
Melissa Windeyer was not about to be cowed by some little fluff ball however. “I’m making it my business!” I made sure my voice was loud enough to attract the attention of everyone in the room.
She punched me in the midriff then, but I was expecting her to do that. She’d shown me her favorite move, and my firm abs were already tensed up ready for the blow. I gave a soft grunt – the little bitch packed a punch – but I immediately retaliated, lashing out with both hands, grabbing her by her long thick hair and jerking her off-balance, sending her stumbling away into the middle of the room, teetering on her heels.
I went after her as she regained her balance and kicked her shoes off. She tossed her head to flick her hair out of her eyes, which flashed with anger. “I’ll teach you to stay out of things that don’t concern you, skank!” She raised her hands, fists clenched, and advanced on me.
Somebody in the crowd yelled, “Teach her, Robin!” and gave me a name for my opponent.
I wanted to put the little blonde down, hard and fast – make an example of her in front of the whole room. I stepped in close and sent a hard slap with my open left hand to her right cheek, swinging all the way from my hip but still too fast for her to dodge or block. The sound of the blow echoed around the suddenly silent bar as her head whipped to the side and she cried out in pain.
She ducked under my follow-up blow though, rolling with it and coming back at me to hammer her fist into my ribs under my left breast, right where my top ended. I gasped, but the blow wasn’t a debilitating one and I sent my own right fist pounding into her chest, right on her left breast. I felt something hard under my knuckles and she groaned as my fist sank deep into her softness, flattening her breast into her ribs. I realized her face wasn’t the only thing that was pierced, and I capitalized on that knowledge by firing another punch at her right breast, but she got her arm up to block it, backing away to give herself room to regroup.
I didn’t give her the chance, advancing as she retreated, slapping at her head and upper body, not so much trying to hurt her right then as to keep her on the defensive while I waited for the moment when I could slam the door on her. She blocked another punch at her left breast – I could see her hard nipple and the barbell there tenting her thin dress – but took another hard slap to the cheek, this one closer to her mouth, and I felt my fingertips drag across the stud in her upper lip. She cried out again in pain, and stumbled back with her hand to her face, growling, “You…cxnt!”
There was fire in her eyes as she launched herself back at me, but I didn’t mind that – an angry fighter is a careless fighter. Her swing at my face was wild and telegraphed from a mile away. I easily brought my arms up to block it. Only when she pulled her arm back and ducked low did I realize I’d fallen for a feint, and then I gasped and hunched forward as she slammed a left-right combo into my exposed abs, drilling my piercing into my belly button. Now it was my turn to cry out and twist away to my right, dropping my hands to shield my belly.
Robin darted forward, getting behind me as I twisted, and drove a hard elbow into my lower back over my left kidney, getting another, louder groan from me as my back arched reflexively. I spun around to face her again, wincing. The two punches had my belly churning and I felt the embers of desire beginning to glow. I clenched my teeth and shook my head. I couldn’t afford to let those feelings get the better of me – not here, not now.
To my dismay, Robin recognized the look in my eyes. “Oh, you like the feel of a fist in your belly, huh bitch?” she sneered. “I’ll be delighted to give you want you want.” She flashed me an evil smile.
As she lunged for me again, I sidestepped and grabbed her arm as her fist shot past my left side. I jerked her closer, pulling her off balance, and slammed my right knee up into her belly. She folded forward with a strangled cry as a gush of air and spit erupted from her open mouth. I gave her another knee, higher up under her ribs, and she stumbled and almost fell as I hurled her away from me.
She backpedaled, arms flailing, and fetched up against a table. The three people sitting there scurried out of the way, grabbing their glasses as the table lurched dangerously. It stayed upright and so did Robin – at least until I buried my bare foot in her belly again, when she clutched hard at my calf and sank to her knees, gasping and shaking. I jerked my leg out of her grasp and she fell forward, her forehead almost touching the floor, holding her midriff with both hands. Her moans made me smile – there was something more than just pain in the sounds. I wasn’t the only one whose belly was her weakness.
I gave her a kick under her ribs that flipped her over onto her side, where she lay panting for breath, her hair strewn across her face. Slowly, painfully, she rolled onto her stomach, trying to get her legs under her. Her dress had ridden up, exposing half her ass and her bare crotch – she wasn’t wearing underwear. I stepped forward, my foot up between her thighs, bare toes pressed to her sex. I could feel her heat and her wetness. She groaned louder, squirming slightly against my foot, and I smiled. “Seems like somebody else likes to take it in her belly too…bitch.”
There were murmurs from the onlookers. I could feel them coming around to my side. Someone called out, “Show her up!” My smile widened. I’d show this bully up all right. By the morning, everyone would be talking about how the woman from out of town had put Robin in her place, and no-one would be interested in whatever else might have happened along the way.
I leaned forward over Robin, grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked her halfway up to her knees. “Let’s see just how much you – guhhh!!!” My taunt was cut off abruptly as Robin threw her arm back and her elbow connected hard with my face, right between my eyes. I released my grip on her hair and stumbled back, seeing stars.
My vision cleared quickly – just in time to see Robin’s fist arcing up toward my chin. I couldn’t manage to avoid the blow completely, but I did manage to jerk my head back and soften it a little. I backed away some more, shaking my head, giving myself time to recover, bringing one arm up to guard my face while I kept the other low to defend against the inevitable attack to my stomach.
Sure enough, Robin lashed out with both fists, but I blocked the first punch and twisted aside so the second glanced off my hip. Her momentum brought her closer to me and I stepped in closer still, ducked low and fired a fist into her lower belly. She folded forward again with a strangled “oofff!!!”, her head slamming into my left breast. I leaned sideways, brought my left arm up and wrapped it around her neck, pulling her into a tight reverse headlock.
Before she could do anything to fight back or wriggle free, I bent forward pressing my chest down into her back and sent two more quick punches to her belly. The first knocked the rest of the wind out of her, and the second sent her to her knees again, dragging me down on top of her. She had her hands braced under her and tried to push up, but she couldn’t shift me off her.
Her dress had ridden up even further now, all the way to her waist, and I reached forward over her back and gave her a hard slap on her right butt cheek. She cried out and squirmed in my grip at the blow, but when I slapped her again on the other cheek, her cry turned into a plaintive moan that contained as much pleasure as pain. I smiled to myself again, comfortable that I had her under control, and knowing that control would only grow stronger. I’d soon have her eating out of my hand – or gushing all over it.
I spanked her again, harder this time, and there was no mistaking the tone of her quavering cry. Her body bucked convulsively underneath me, but she wasn’t trying to get away. No, this little subbie bitch was falling under my spell. I stroked my fingers down between her thighs and she groaned again, long and loud. I held up my hand to the light. “Look! You’re all wet…loving this, aren’t you?” I spoke to Robin but I was really addressing the audience. There were chuckles from those standing nearest as they saw my glistening fingers.
Robin moaned again, and again I brought my hand down on the reddening flesh of her left butt cheek with a loud smack that echoed around the room. She whimpered this time, and then shuddered as I gave her a slap on the other cheek.
“Where should I spank you next, girl?” I asked with silk and steel in my voice. “Left cheek? Right cheek? Or are you already craving it between the cheeks? Tell me…tell us all.” I stroked the little blonde’s trembling ass again, amid laughter from the clustered crowd.
I stood up off her, but she stayed curled over on her knees, her forehead almost touching the floor. Her tanned ass gleamed under the lights. I tapped my foot. “We’re waiting, girl.” She whimpered.
I opened my mouth to taunt her again, but then suddenly howled in painful surprise as I felt my hair yanked viciously. Letting go of Robin, I raised my arms and grabbed at my unseen assailant’s wrists. Spinning around, I found myself face to face with the Chinese girl who Robin had been beating on. Her face was full of fury. “Leave…her…ALONE!” Her words came out one at a time, as though she was struggling against something – perhaps her own rage.
Momentarily nonplussed, I simply stared at her, open-mouthed. What on earth was she thinking? I was
helping this silly girl against a bully who was all over her – and now here she was attacking
me!
With one hand still in my hair, she stuttered, “Mind…your own…business!” I was too amazed to react as she hammered her other fist into my belly, doubling me over pretty much the same way I’d done to Robin. I groaned as the breath exploded from me. The girl hit harder than Robin had done – a lot harder. The pain made me shudder. Then my groan turned to a gasp and my eyes widened as the pain turned to heat inside me.
My legs trembled, but I brought my arms down to block the girl’s next punch, ignoring her grip on my hair for now as I stepped closer to reduce her reach advantage, and fired my own right fist into her ribs under her left arm. She let out a sharp grunt of pain and spun to her left, hunching defensively. I shrieked as she tore her hand free from my hair, taking a few strands with it, but at least I was free.
I followed up with a left to her midsection that got a groan out of her, and she spun back toward me, getting her guard up. She feinted at my face and I ducked low to get under her swing, stepping in closer again and hammering my right fist into her belly button, right on the gold ring. She groaned louder, but I felt the steely hardness of the muscles beneath her skin, and my fist barely sank in. My eyes widened in further surprise, but Melissa Windeyer is nothing if not adaptable, and I backed away to regroup and change my strategy.
She was taller than me so it was easiest for me to attack low, going for her middle, but judging by the feel of those abs, that was her strongest spot. On the other hand, her height made it more difficult for her to reach my belly, and therefore easier for me to defend. She had to duck low to attack me there and she’d expose her upper body and head as she did.
I wasn’t going to let her dictate the fight though. Melissa Windeyer doesn’t let others take control. I stepped in, threw a punch to her chest and when she brought her arms up to block, I rammed my other fist into her belly button again, right on the same spot I’d hit her earlier. Beating her where she was strongest, would be a brutal blow to her ego.
Using the momentum behind my punch, I stepped in, slammed my shoulder into her chest and sent her stumbling back a few steps. That opened up enough room for her to fire a punch of her own though, and I grunted hard as her uppercut caught me under the chin, snapped my head back and lifted me up onto my toes. My vision clouded for a moment – damn the bitch could hit hard! – and that moment was all she needed to drive her fist into my exposed abs.
I gagged and doubled over with a strangled scream as pain lanced through my belly, spreading up and squeezing my chest like a vice. I couldn’t breathe. Worse though, was the way it spread downward, deep into my loins, setting light to the dark desire there. I bit my lip hard to choke back the groan that threatened to betray me and, still bent over, I lunged forward and drove my own fist into the girl’s belly once more.
She gave vent to the groan that I had successfully stifled and bent forward, her head on my shoulder. That didn’t stop her from firing another fist into my tummy though. This time I gasped and shuddered as a surge of dark heat rushed through me. With an effort I steadied myself, leaned in and hammered my fist into her abs yet again, and was gratified to hear her sharp gasp of pain.
Robin had risen to her feet and was watching along with the others. “Get her, Sarah!” Her voice was full of venom and I wrapped my free arm around the Chinese girl – Sarah – and turned us both so she was between me and Robin. I didn’t want the little blonde attacking me from behind.
Sarah and I traded punches, deep belly blows that staggered us both as we leaned heavily on one another. I could feel my opponent’s abs softening, weakening, but my own belly was taking a beating and my insides were churning with my growing arousal, which was threatening to surpass the pain. My opponent’s breath was hot on my cheek, her flesh warm against mine even through our clothes. I pounded her. She cried out, a cry of perverse pleasure as much as pain. She returned the blow, her knuckles twisting as they sank into my flesh, and I groaned as a little mini-orgasm exploded deep inside me.
The fires of arousal were like a furnace in my belly now. I could feel the warm wetness in my crotch. I closed my eyes and thought of icebergs, cold and vast, but the icebergs exploded into steam every time Sarah’s fist drove deep into my quivering belly. My heart was pounding, my blood roaring in my ears.
I cried out with the effort as I rammed my fist into my enemy’s abs again. She wailed and shook like a leaf. Her legs almost buckled but she caught herself at the last instant. I smiled to myself. The next blow would finish her, and she’d be on her knees at my feet, just like Robin had been. Two in a row – Melissa Windeyer would be the talk of the town.
Then her fist thudded into my belly again. My eyes bugged wide as I suddenly shook like a leaf. My legs turned to jelly and my insides turned to lava. I felt another mini-orgasm shoot through me, not so little this time. I sagged against Sarah.
This time I didn’t return her blow, and a great “Nggghhhuuuhhh!!!” burst from my parted lips as she hit me again. My knees buckled and I slid down her body to the floor, hugging her thighs to keep from falling on my face, my cheek pressed to her crotch, feeling her heat through the thin material of her pants.
Sarah grabbed my hair with both hands. I cried out again as she jerked my head back, so I was staring up into her big dark eyes, which blazed with anger and lust. She growled, and then drove her knee into my belly, right where she’d been punching me. I gagged. I felt like I was about to throw up – but instead a had another, full-blown orgasm as I hung limply in her arms.
“Not so cocky now, are you, bitch?” Robin’s voice snarled in my ear as she stepped around Sarah and thrust a hand in my hair. “Seems I was right…seems you like taking it in the belly.”
She grabbed me under my arm and, with Sarah hauling on my air, the two of them yanked me to my feet. My legs were shaking so much that I could barely stand. My leggings were soaked and I blushed dark with shame which, perversely, only made my arousal greater. I moaned. “No…”
“Oh…yes…” countered Robin with an evil chuckle. They half-walked, half-carried me to the nearest of the supporting pillars and shoved me back against it, each holding one of my arms. I struggled weakly, but I was too far gone – too turned on – to break free. Robin stroked my bare bruised belly with her free hand, her touch feather-soft, and I shivered hard, back arching involuntarily as she thrust her thumb deep into my belly button. “Nnnggghhh…ppplease…”
“Mmmmm,” Robin purred. “Belly bitch.” There was laughter from crowd at that, laughter at my expense. I flushed with anger as well as shame, but most of all I flushed with heat.
“You made a really bad choice, trying to ‘save’ Sarah,” Robin went on. She took her hand off my quivering tummy and stroked Sarah’s reddened abs. “Sarah’s got the hardest abs in town, and she just
loves getting punched there, to show off how tough they are.” The Chinese girl moaned softly at Robin’s touch and I felt a perverted pang of jealousy.
“Mmmmm,” the little blonde purred again. Her fingers returned to my tummy and I gasped as she caressed me gently, kneading my flesh. I moaned loudly as she tugged playfully on my piercing, then groaned like a bitch in heat as Sarah’s fist slammed into me a moment later. I felt like my innards were being pushed out through my spine. I hunched over convulsively, kept from doubling up and falling only by the restraining hands of my two captors as another orgasm, even harder than the last, ripped through me.
I was panting with pain and lust, my chest heaving. I could feel my pulse in my throbbing nipples with every frantic beat of my heart. My head lolled on my chest. My eyes were glazed, my skin bathed in sweat. My lips moved but no sound emerged. I didn’t know what I wanted to say anyway – didn’t even know what to think or how to feel. It had all gone wrong. Melissa Windeyer would indeed be the talk of the town, but not for the reasons I wanted.
Sarah grabbed my damp hair again and yanked my head up so she could stare into my eyes. “You weren’t…saving me…bitch,” she said scornfully. Again, it was like she was forcing the words out, as though she wasn’t used to speaking.
“Sarah doesn’t say much,” Robin interjected. “You really pissed her off, interfering like you did.” She laughed as she ran a finger around my navel and I whimpered. Then Sarah punched me and I climaxed yet another time, even harder than before.
When I could think again, I was hanging in their grasp like a broken doll. They let me go and I crumpled to the floor in a heap, groaning, as the watching bar patrons laughed and mocked me. Robin put her foot on my butt, though it wasn’t like she needed to hold me down. I lay curled up, holding my tummy in both hands, wishing the floor would swallow me whole.
“I think that’s enough, don’t you?” I almost wept with gratitude and relief as I heard Edward’s voice, as he came to save me from this torture.
Then my heart plummeted into my boots again as another man’s voice answered, “Let them be. Nobody interferes.” I twisted my head and looked up through my tears to see two men blocking Edward’s path.
“She’s down…the fight’s over,” argued Edward.
“That’s not the end of it,” countered the other man. “There are rules here…she has to pay the price.”
“City ordnance, even,” grinned his companion.
“What they mean,” Robin interjected, still standing with her foot on my butt, “is that the winner of a fight can claim the loser as her bitch, for a night and a day.” The grin she directed at me made my blood run cold. “And we’re claiming that right…so you can have her back at sundown tomorrow.”
Edward raised an eyebrow. “That’s going to be a problem. We have to drive back to San Francisco in the morning, to catch a flight to Chicago.”
There was a pause, before Robin replied, “Well…I suppose we
could just keep her for the night and bring her back in the morning.”
Edward looked at the two guys – both were in their twenties, young and fit – then back at Robin. “That would be…acceptable.”
I gasped, horrified that Edward would simply let them have me, though I realized later there was little he could have done. The two guys looked intent on keeping him from rescuing me and they had ample backup.
Robin and Sarah picked me up and hustled me outside, through a laughing, jeering crowd that had me hanging my head even lower in shame. The cool evening air on my skin made my nipples stand up even more under my thin top, and I was uncomfortably aware of my juices soaking my leggings. Robin pulled out a remote. The lights of a nearby sedan flashed, and its trunk opened.
I struggled weakly in their arms. “Where…where are you taking me?”
Robin laughed. “We’re taking you to the Eyrie…to our Mistress…to our people…and bitch, if you think you’ve suffered up till now…well think again.” I shivered at the tone of her voice, but didn’t have the strength to resist as she and Sarah bundled me into the trunk of the car.
It seemed like an eternity that I lay there, bounced and jostled as they took me who knew where. The interior was dark, airless and smelled of gasoline. I groaned every time the car went around a bend or over a bump.
When the trunk of the car finally opened and they hoisted me out, groaning and coughing, we were in what seemed like an underground parking lot, with a concrete floor and walls, and numerous pillars at frequent intervals. I sagged in Robin’s and Sarah’s grasp as they held me under both arms and hauled me toward a plain steel door a short distance away.
They dragged me inside, unresisting, strapped me to a frame shaped like an ‘A’, my hands stretched above my head, legs spread wide, and used scissors to cut my clothes off me. I whimpered at the touch of the cold steel blades on my skin. My top disappeared immediately, my firm round pale breasts bouncing free. They worked my battered tummy again until I was gasping in pain – and shamefully, on the verge of another awful climax – before they cut my leggings, from the waistband in the front, down under my crotch and up between my butt cheeks, exposing my disgracefully wet sex. “Please…please…” Even at that point, I wasn’t entirely sure what I was wishing for.
Then my torment really began, as they took me from room to room, device to device, degradation to degradation. There were cocks in me, in every way possible, pussies and asses in my face – yes, Melissa Windeyer was reduced to tonguing women’s asses. They used toys on me and in me, and even some substance in my ass that itched so bad I was screaming for someone to fuck me there. They gave me rough pleasure and deliberate pain until I couldn’t tell the difference. The only thing worse than them using me hard was when they paused, because then I had to suffer the sound of my own voice pleading for more.
I remember two women standing by, watching me while the others used me, discussing me like I was some kind of lab experiment. By that time, I was stretched over an arched wooden frame, held down by cuffs on my wrists and ankles, as two men took me in my mouth and pussy while two women sucked and bit my throbbing nipples. I couldn’t see any of their faces, and the pounding of my heart, the rush of blood in my ears made it difficult even to hear them.
“Look at her…so eager to serve,” said one, with a faint European accent, possibly French though my overwrought mind couldn’t really tell.
“Mmmmm yes,” purred another, this one with a strong Hispanic accent. “It’s a pity we have to send her back in the morning. By sundown, she’d be begging us
not to let her go.”
I whimpered on the thick shaft in my mouth – mostly because I feared she was right.
I don’t remember a lot of what happened to me in that place, that night. There’s a lot that I can’t remember – it was all too overwhelming – but there’s a lot that I can’t bring myself to remember too. It wasn’t just what they did to me, though that was horrifying enough, but it was what they made me do to myself. They stripped away everything that makes me Melissa, laid my soul bare, tore me apart and put me back together again – but I wasn’t sure they made me whole again.
The worst of it – by far the worst of it – came at the end. Stretched out on my belly, held down by somebody straddling my back, I was way too exhausted to offer any resistance as they forced my mouth open wide, grabbed my tongue with a pair of pliers and stretched it way out. I whimpered pitifully – were they going to tear my tongue out?
They didn’t. What they did was to force the sharp post of a gold stud through my flesh and screw it in place, piercing my tongue – marking me. The French woman was there – I couldn’t see her but I could hear her voice – and she said, “It’s tradition for a captive to keep the piercing in for thirty days…then you can decide whether you want to remove it.” My mind reeling, my spirit broken, I could only sob in desolate despair as I tasted the bitter metal in my mouth.
*****
The same two women, Robin and Sarah, took me back to the hotel in the morning, in the same car they used to take me to their lair. Barely conscious, I only knew it was the same car by the smell of my own sweat and fear in the trunk.
I couldn’t stand, though the cool morning air on my battered, naked body revived me a little, so they half dragged, half carried me to the room. It was early so there were probably few people around to see my disgrace. I didn’t know – I couldn’t see, my eyelids glued shut with a disgusting mix of cum, pussy juices and my own tears, sweat and drool. They dumped me at the door and rang the bell.
Sprawled on the tiled walkway outside the suite, shivering with cold and fatigue, head hanging between my shoulders and my matted hair surrounding my face, I couldn’t see Edward’s face when he opened the door, but his sharp intake of breath told me I looked just as thoroughly ravaged as I felt.
“Here’s your girl back…right on time,” said Robin. I could hear the sneer in her voice.
“Thank you.” Edward’s voice was carefully modulated.
“We heard her Mistress likes to record the names of those who’ve used her…so here.” There was a pause. “There are twenty-eight names there.” She laughed and even in the state I was in, I blushed deeply. I’d lost count – early in the night – of who was doing what to me, of how and of how many. The knowledge was another killing blow to my shattered self-esteem.
*****
We left the hotel in silence, Edward driving and me slumped in the passenger’s seat. I was in black sweatpants and a hoodie, sneakers on my feet. I couldn’t wear anything close fitting. My breasts were too swollen for a bra and my loins too sore for underwear. I ached in all over, inside and out. Thankfully all the marks on my flesh were hidden under my clothes, sparing me at least one embarrassment.
I slept fitfully, and we were a long way down the highway toward San Francisco before I woke. I stirred, moaning as I shifted and my body reminded me of all that I’d been through. Edward glanced over at me. “How do you feel?”
Part of me wanted to respond angrily to that – how did he damn well think I felt? – but I knew my anger wasn’t really directed at him. So I replied, “It aches. Plus it feels like my tongue is huge and there’s a marble in my mouth.” My voice sounded strange to my own ears. The stud in my tongue made me slur my words and gave me a slight lisp.
He smiled, not mockingly as I feared he might, but then my heart sank as he voiced the fear I’d been trying not to think about. “Justeen is going to be furious.”
I blushed crimson. Furious was hardly an adequate word to describe how Ms Justeen would react when she heard about my humiliation – humiliations – in Blue Water. “She doesn’t need to know. I can…I can take the stud out.”
Edward raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t they say you must keep it for thirty days?”
I shivered. I didn’t remember them telling Edward that, but then again I’d been very far gone when they’d returned me to him. “Yes, but…you and I are the only ones who know that.”
He looked over at me sharply for a moment but said nothing. Then he replied, “Justeen knows Aisha…and I’m betting Aisha already knows what happened to you last night. If she doesn’t, she soon will. It’s a small town. And if Aisha knows…Justeen will know.” He smiled wryly. “If you think she’ll be mad at you for letting yourself be used like you did, what do you think she’ll do if you try to hide it from her…any of it?”
I swallowed hard. This trip had begun so beautifully, so romantically, with such promise. Now the memories – those I could bear to reflect upon – were as bitter as ashes in my mouth. What must everyone in Blue Water think of me – of me, Melissa Windeyer? I could never go back there, not that I ever wanted to.
Worse than that, was what Edward had witnessed. He had been nothing but caring and supportive through my entire ordeal, but what must he be thinking? His lover, his strong and powerful Melissa, had been not just the room whore but the town whore, shamed over and over again. All my plans for my relationship with him were ruined.
Perhaps worst of all though, was I had witnessed – what I had done, what I had felt. I had learned things about myself, things I never wanted to know. Beneath the veil of my strength and self-assurance was a deep well of abject submission into which I had dived headlong and helplessly. I dreaded the thought that I might do so again, and how deep I might dive.
I choked back a whimper of fear.
THE END…FOR NOW…
