Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“Tit for tat. Ella, would you rather give up your entire client base, or give up Heath?”
Shit.
It’s not as easy a question as I figured it would be.
Instinct has my mind whirring through all of the clients I’ve formed dirty bonds with since taking up my position at the Agency. From Daddy to the masked CNC freak who chases me through cowsheds, to the utterly crazy savagery of the Agency founders and the blissful subspace that comes from their insane rounds of sadism…
Mr Monthly and our messy fun whenever I’m on my period. My roleplay clients… the incredible humiliation scenes where I get to be a trashy piece of meat for hours on end and love it.
The thought of giving up all of that gives me a thump in the guts far harder than the thump in the ribs I wanted to give Josh. And I get it. From the intensity in his eyes, I get it.
He felt the same way… it’s not an easy call.
So, I use the same fucking copout he did.
I turn to Heath with a beaming smile.
“Would you outbid the rest of my clients if it came to it, Heathy baby? Or is that privilege reserved for Josh?”
“Of course I would,” Heath answers.
“In that case, the answer is obvious. It’s a yes from me.”
Heath puts a hand on his heart. There is a steely depth to his stare, despite the fact he’s smiling.
“Well, I am flattered. If I gave you a pay rise, you’d opt for my company over any other’s. What a beautiful thing to hear. Such adoration.”
He laughs, but he’s not being genuine. He’s as fake as we are.
Alarm bells go off in my head, because as proposals go, we’re failing bad at this one. This isn’t college humour and games, this is… personal.
“You should be flattered,” Josh says. “I have some incredible clients I’d have to give up.”
“Ditto,” I say, but Heath brushes it aside.
“I’m sure you do, and good job this is a would you rather rather than a will you have to. I’m happy to share.”
Is he, though? Really?
“Strip poker time!” I say. “Come on, I want to see you two with your cocks out. I’m too horny for much more would you rather.”
The guys buy into it, and Heath takes out a poker set from a drawer underneath the coffee table. I breathe a sigh of relief as he sets us up, and I paste on a smile – happy to be back in the familiar turf of performing and nudity.
The guys give an excellent strip show, one piece of clothing at a time, and they may have been competing at squash and kicking ass all day, but I definitely top the leaderboard on this one.
I make it filthy. Really fucking filthy. Splaying my pussy to show off the treasure when the game has me taking my panties off. The last item to play for…
“I’m going to make such a mess of your sofa,” I say to Heath. “I’m so fucking wet.”
“Good,” he replies, and tops up my wine glass. Again. “So, how about truth or dare?”
He rises to straddle me and rubs his swollen shaft against my slit.
“How could I resist? Go for it,” I say. “Truth.”
“Tell me then, Holly. What does your favourite client make you do for them? Excluding me, of course.”
I know the answer in a heartbeat. My eyes are on Heath’s as I answer.
“A client known as Daddy. He makes me call him Daddy while I pretend to be his naughty little girl all through the night.”
Heath keeps rubbing his cock against my slit.
“Tell me more.”
It feels so dirty to tell Heath how I perform for my client. How I’m the daughter he catches fucking her boyfriend, and how badly he punishes me for it. How he tells me that Daddy is the only one allowed to do those things to me, and how he washes me clean after I’ve been soiled. How he makes me feel like a naughty little bitch when I’m over his knee and taking a spanking.
And how wonderfully wrong it feels when he dumps me in a bathtub and puts the shower on cold, while he ‘cleans’ my fake boyfriend’s dirty cum out of me…
“He fucks you with a flannel?” Heath says, and I nod.
“Yeah. Drenched in ice cold water and wrapped over his fingers. And he makes me gargle warm water straight from the shower hose… to get the taste of cock out of my mouth. He’s so good with the name calling as well. His roleplay skills are off the chart.” I pause. “I get so much morning after syndrome from him… honestly. I begin to believe I’m that dirty little college girl for real.”
“Morning after syndrome?”
“It’s a term we use at the Agency,” Josh explains, with his hard cock in his hand. “It’s when the fantasy bleeds over into real life. Becomes kind of emotional. It’s fleeting. Usually.”