Page 68 of Devil's Bargain

Jared’s eyes burn my skin through the rearview mirror.

“You should focus on the road!” I snap, unclipping my bra. It joins the rest of my clothing. Then my panties.

I quickly put on the scrap of lace they bought for me before hugging myself with my arms. “Do you have something I can cover myself with? It’s daylight. I don’t want us to get pulled over by the police.”

Jared guffaws.

Scott chuckles and turns in his seat. “I have this.” He hands me another tiny piece of material, and I soon realize what it is—a garter. “Don’t forget the fishnet stockings.” He hands me them too.

Let’s just say that pulling on fishnet stockings and a garter in the back of a moving car is not easy.

We come to a stop, and they exit the car while I stare out the window at a two story brick house with white window frames and black shutters. It’s a mansion in size.

Scott opens the back door, throws in a pair of blood-red high heels, and orders me to put them on.

“Where are we?” I ask as Jared pulls me out by my arm and herds me along.

“Stop fucking talking!”

The bra barely covers my tits, and my pussy is visible through a hole in the panties designed for easy access.

Jared rings the doorbell, and a man in a suit opens the door. It soon becomes apparent by his implacable manners that he’s the paid servant in charge around here.

He doesn’t even bat an eyelid at me as he guides us to a large bedroom downstairs.

It looks like a documentary about brothels. The walls are deep red, and the four-poster bed in the middle is draped with black silk sheets. It has a TV mounted to the end of it.

A tall man in a dark suit with salt and pepper hair sits in a recliner next to a lit fireplace. It’s too warm in here.

The man rises to a stand and sweeps his eyes over me, lingering on my legs in my fishnets. He’s an older man, somewhere in his late forties.

He gestures for me to come closer.

I look nervously at Scott and Jared. Amid this fucked up mess, they’ve become my point of safety which is ridiculous.

“Don’t keep me waiting.”

I tear my gaze away and look at the man.

“I want to be alone with the girl.”

“What? No!” I whimper as Jared and Scott leave the room. I run after them and yank on the door, but it’s locked.

“It’s no use. That door won’t open until I unlock it.”

I stiffen, my hand on the handle.

“Come here. Let me look at you.”

“No.” I feel like a gazelle cornered by a lion. He’s a dangerous man. Every cell in my body knows it.

He presses a button on the remote in his hand, and the TV mounted on the wall above the fireplace flicks to life.

With another click, my homemade video with Scott and Jared starts playing. “You wouldn’t want this released? I’ve been told there’s a certain quarterback you’ve taken a shine to.”

I press my back against the door. “Who are you?”

He trains the remote on the TV and clicks out of the recording. My mother’s moans fill the room instead. I refuse to look.

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