Page 4 of Savage

He pushes down on one of the bruises, and I flinch at the slight pain.

Pain is another thing I thought I’d be used to by now.

“She looks like she’d break from a single blow,” Savage says dispassionately.

I shudder. Is that what he wants to do? I’m sure it is, knowing the men who frequent this place. Why not beat someone when they’re already down?

Giulio huffs in amusement. “Probably. You’ll have to fatten her up. But it also means you won’t have to expend too much energy spanking or whipping her.”

The way they’re talking about me… I don’t bother to wipe away the tears. Why should I? They like seeing them. If they didn’t want me to cry, they wouldn’t discuss me so coldly, like I’m some sort of animal instead of a person.

I’ve been at Ntimacy long enough to have heard rumors that people who piss Giulio off disappear, and I’ve tried very, very hard not to think about where they might have gone.

Savage moves on to my breasts, squeezing each of them like he’s conducting a breast cancer screening. That thought almost makes me laugh. Here I am, debased and dehumanized, but maybe I’ll find out about some life-altering medical condition.

“At least she’s not flat-chested,” Savage says, and for some reason that has Giulio making a disgruntled noise.

“Nothing wrong with the flat chicks! Especially if they’re kind of lean all over, and there’s a slight boyish quality to their frames but they’re still pretty and feminine… And maybe you get to see them swell up with pregnancy, if they aren’t being fucking traitorous—” Giulio breaks off with a laugh. Is he talking about Vanessa? I can’t follow his line of thought, but it doesn’t matter anyway, because Savage is still fondling my breasts in that oh-so-professional way that’s meant to make me think he’s not enjoying it.

“Anyway. Nice tits, Stef,” Giulio says.

“Thanks,” I mumble, even though it doesn’t feel very complimentary at all.

Savage ignores Giulio too, letting go of my breasts to run his hands over the bumps of my ribcage. He doesn’t comment about that, but I notice his scowl deepen. He covers my bare pussy with that large hand and runs his thumb over the skin.

“I don’t know why you keep them like this,” Savage says. “They look like children.”

My cheeks flush at that. I like the feeling of being bare. I don’t like the waxing kits we have to use to stay that way, but it feels better. Tidier.

“If you can figure out a way to keep all the pubic hairs inside the teeny tiny thongs, please, enlighten me,” Giulio answers.

I shift uncomfortably, not liking the way the conversation is going between the two of them. It’s clear Savage is displeased with pretty much everything about me, and Giulio is just… being Giulio.

I do notice Savage rolling his eyes, right before he grabs my hips and forces me to turn around. I let out a startled sob and tense up. Seconds later, Savage squeezes my ass cheeks.

“How am I supposed to spank an ass this bony?” Savage complains.

I can’t see Giulio, but I can imagine his amused smile. “With a paddle?”

I shudder. I’ve been paddled before, and I couldn’t sit properly for a few days after.

None of the other patrons have done anything even remotely close to this. I usually do a lap dance, strip down… and occasionally do more, depending on who it is and what they want. I can always tell who the boss’s friends are based on how they treat me, and I shudder all over again to think about some of the men I’ve had to service.

I feel Savage’s hand pushing at the small of my back, and his foot taps the inside of my calf. “Bend over,” he orders.

Something about the way he handles me makes it more… dehumanizing somehow, than if he was simply telling me what to do. I bend over, trembling as I try to wipe away my tears. They just keep coming, though.

Savage wastes no time in reaching between my legs to spread my folds. He gets a single long finger inside me and starts moving it like he’s searching for something. I’m dry, and the whole experience is unpleasant, and the shame is making my tears fall even harder.

I’m caught off guard by another one of his fingers seeking out my clit and rubbing it roughly. I bite my lip, not sure what he’s hoping to accomplish. It’s not like any of the men I’ve been with here have shown any regard for my pleasure, and even my boyfriend before this didn’t much care as long as he had lube—or spit—at the ready to make it possible for him to force his cock inside of me.

I start to squirm as he keeps going, though, as his fingers slide to the side of my clit instead of touching it dead-on. My eyes widen a little as I start to feel a strange pleasure building up inside of me, and the finger he has inside of me moves a little more easily.

I bite my lip to keep from whimpering. My legs tremble in an effort to keep me upright.

Please, no. I don’t want this to feel good. I don’t want to get off on this humiliation and degradation.

I’m openly sobbing, the tears falling unbidden, as Savage continues to finger me. I can feel my pleasure growing, and I realize with panic that I’m dangerously close to orgasm. I clench, trying to keep his finger from moving, hoping I don’t end up succumbing to this.

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