Page 2 of Brutal

One in my mouth, one in my cunt. That’s preferable to the times I’ve had a dick in both my cunt and my ass, or that time two men had squeezed into my cunt at once.

I obediently move to accommodate the men, along the short edge of the bed. I even spread my legs to make it easier for the man to slot in behind me.

“Such a good little bitch,” the rich guy says from the corner, and my gaze flicks over to him again. For all that I’m exhausted, and for all that it’s damn near impossible to muster up much energy, I glare at him.

It only makes him smile wider.

The thin guy grabs my hair and pulls on it to force me closer to his crotch. He grinds his clothed cock against my face, and I scrunch my eyes shut.

“Mimosa, right?” the thin guy says. “Did the hair or the name come first?”

My bright orange hair, which I hate.

The guy behind me slaps my ass. “Answer him, bitch.”

Fuck. I don’t want to talk to them, but it’s always easier to give in. “The name.”

They laugh about that. “What kind of a parent names their kid Mimosa anyway?”

Do they really think that’s my real name? I resist the urge to roll my eyes at the stupidity. I guess it’s better they believe it’s my real name than try to guess what I’m actually called, like some of the men do. A few of them try to force it out of me, and I just give them a random name instead.

I don’t have a lot left, but I can keep that, at least.

“One who wants their kid to grow up to be a stripper, obviously.” The one by my mouth snickers.

“I heard there’s a stripper named Champagne at the club,” the other guy says. “Wonder if they’re related.”

The mention of my sister has me tensing despite myself. My “boss” has made enough hints about the two of us “performing” together that I dread all reminders of her.

The thought of it makes me sick, but these dickheads would get off on it.

“Are the two of you all talk and no action?” Rich Guy asks from the corner, crossing his arms against his broad chest. “You sound like a couple of schoolgirls.”

Thin Guy grips my hair hard, growling a little. “Don’t be a buzzkill. We paid for our time with her.”

“Yeah, well, so did I.” Rich Guy taps the expensive watch. “Tick tock… gentlemen.” The disdain in his voice is palpable, and the men about to use me are clearly very, very aware of just how much he’s looking down on them.

It makes them handsier, and it makes them crueler in the way they touch me — grabbing and pinching, forcing me to spread my legs wider as my mouth is pushed up against the jeans-clad cock of the other man.

The guy in front of me uses one hand to unzip his jeans and pull his cock out. It’s average in size, and I almost laugh that I’m well-versed enough in cock now to have a general idea of sizes. I remember when I was completely inexperienced, saving myself for some nebulous real relationship.

Well, now I know that real relationships are a pipe dream, and I’m going to keep taking cock after cock until my body gives out completely. I don’t dare hope that my “boss” will get tired of punishing me for my sister’s sins.

I open my mouth for the guy’s cock because I don’t relish the sensation of cock being forced in. At least this way I have a small bit of control over things.

The guy behind me thrusts in too, sending me forward a few inches. I swallow quickly so I don’t choke on the cock in my mouth.

“Be glad you’re just watching,” Thin Guy says over his shoulder to the voyeur. “Even her fucking mouth is loose. What a dirty fucking whore.” He spits on me — right on my head, and I can feel the globule of saliva as it tracks down my forehead and onto my cheek.

I don’t know why that shocks me. Other men have spat on me before. Not usually on my head, though, and not while calling me a whore, too.

Fucking hypocrite. If he didn’t want a loose, used-up whore, why is he paying for me? Why did he come to this run-down building with its dank cells, where all the women are used up and dirty and haven’t seen the light of day in months?

The spark of anger makes my mind blank out for a second, and without conscious thought, I close my jaw.

Hard.

The guy yelps loudly, sounding more startled than pained, but as he tries to pull out of my mouth and I refuse to unclench my jaw, that all changes. “She bit me!” he says in blatant disbelief as he hooks his filthy fingers in the corners of my mouth to try to dislodge me. “I’ll have your ass for this, you stupid little bitch!”

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