Page 25 of Quiet Confessions: Part Two

“Do it,” he grunts instead.

My hand immediately fists my cock as I push myself back onto the dildo suctioned to the head board. It’s big and uncomfortable, and my forehead furrows as I struggle to push through it. I’m facing the camera, my legs splayed open, my head dropping back as I start to perspire.

“Fuck, this one is really going to sell for a lot,” the guard says around a chuckle. The other men merely smirk, knowing that the guard likes me. There are days that come a lot more often now where I wish I was ugly. Maybe if I was a troll I wouldn’t get all of this unwanted attention.

Finally, my breaths start to quicken, and I can tell I’m about to come.

“They pay big money for this shot,” the cameraman says as he takes a step closer. Usually he takes photos from the tripod, and I can’t see much of him with the bright lights. The days where he decides to get his “money shots” are the most degrading, and I stop fighting the effects of the drugs. My eyesight goes fuzzy and the bright lights become my entire focus.

Soon, the performance is over and everyone leaves. I ease the dildo out with a wince, collapsing beside it with a sigh. I never in a million years thought that this would be my life.

My eyes get heavy and I find myself dozing. This isn’t really abnormal, because the drugs typically make me fall asleep, and they just leave me where I pass out. Waking up somewhere that I didn’t pass out in is what I’d expect in college, not a sex den.

Yet another example of how different my life is. I don’t think I’ll ever take anything for granted again.

A cold hand touches the inside of my leg, making my thigh muscles jolt. A whimper passes my lips that I immediately wish I could pull back. The men want to present strength and virility on camera, or at least that’s what is so often screamed at me.

Fuck, I’m still stoned as shit.

“Wake up,” a voice croons, but it’s not Patience. I don’t know anyone else who would be talking to me in a gentle voice. This just doesn’t feel right. Blinking, I force myself to wake up. Gentle words never stay that way for long here.

The room is hazy as I wake. I'm no longer in the filming room where I fell asleep, but instead I’m in a room with black silk sheets, and there are all of these hooks set into the headboard. I am getting really sketchy vibes right now. Moving my head to the side, I see Isabella’s hand is creeping toward my limp cock.

I feel revulsion instead of desire, and my skin breaks out in goose flesh. Isabella just smiles, misunderstanding my body’s response. She fists my dick, but it just lays there in her hand.

“Maybe you just need a little help,” she grumbles. “You’re young. I don’t know what the problem is. I want you to fuck me.”

I have no intentions of fucking her. I find her repulsive, even though she’s conventionally pretty. The evil that lives inside of her oozes out of her pores and I can feel my cock attempting to disappear, despite its size.

Getting on her knees, she puts my cock in her mouth, and I can’t move her. I feel as if I’m frozen in disgust. My gaze focuses on the bed post next to me, even as my eyes begin to fill with tears. I want to die as I feel her tongue touching the most intimate part of me, yet I can’t get hard. My dick has decided to check out as much as I’m attempting too.

“Why!” Isabella screams, her words garbled by my limp dick in her mouth. I wouldn’t be surprised if the bitch tried to bite it, she’s so frustrated with me. Sitting up, she lets my dick drop from her lips. “I thought all men got hard when you sucked it. Maybe it’s the drugs. Ugh.”

She continues to mutter to herself about how she’s too good for whores, but she won’t have me to herself for much longer. The auction apparently is a good thing for her pocketbook, but bad for her libido.

Standing, she leaves the room, and I close my eyes again. The sheets are cool; this isn’t the worst place to pass out.

“Rooke?” Patience says, and my head snaps over in her direction. Isabella is dragging her behind her, and my girl looks really confused.

“What are you doing here?” I rasp. I’m a lot more awake now that I see her. My heart is pounding and I’m worried about what her appearance means.

“You two are going to fuck,” Isabella snaps, pushing Pay toward me. “Get undressed like a good little whore, and fuck him.”

Patience’s eyes are wide as she looks over her shoulder and notices Isabella is also undressing. Oh dear God, please don’t tell me she’s going to try to join us.

“If he won’t fuck me, I’ll just get myself off while he fucks you instead,” Isabella snipes, moving a chair near the bed.

She’s in her bra and panties, and I motion for Patience to get on the bed. I need to focus on her because if I see Isabella’s putrid pussy before I’m hard again, I’ll be soft forever. The woman is unhinged enough to punish us both, and I don’t want to be responsible for that.

I will protect Patience with my last breath, my dignity be damned.

“Take off your shirt, baby girl,” I encourage, my eyes begging her to do it. Hesitantly, she nods, shrugging the oversized shirt off so it drops to the floor.

“Get him hard for me like a good little cock warmer,” Isabella commands, and Patience’s lashes flutter closed for a half a second. I’m terrified that she’ll say no, but she just climbs up on the bed, straddling my hips.

Her hand cups my face as her lips brush mine. “Eyes on me, baby boy,” she says so softly only I can hear. “We can get through this.”

She’s right. We have to just do it. My hands wrap around her ass, rocking her against my cock. Our lips crash together as we kiss, tongues tangling as we cling to each other. Nothing else matters, especially not the sounds of Isabella playing with her clit.

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