BOUND AND ETCHED

Chapter 8:Sub

I stepped fully into the room, leaving the door open…you never could tell what Irene would do the next minute .

The boy had been f*****g her from behind. And one could tell that he had been canned countless times from the red marks on his ass. Maybe that was the reason he had screamed earlier.

And why did the door open? because they weren’t that close to the door. Maybe Irene had forgotten to lock it earlier—

“Lethal bitch.” I scoffed.

Looking at him physically…he should be 18 or 19 if not 20 years old. And Irene? Should be in her early fifties.

Made whores don’t change…do they?

The boy rose quickly to his feet, scrambling as he put on his pants. He reminded me of my younger self…the first time Irene had given me a blow job. How shy I had looked, and how hastily I put on my pants after she finally left me…I was just 16.

His shivering hands and dried tears on his cheeks still brought more memories of me—how I had gone home and cried out my eyes for being a bad child, and going against God. So I know the reason behind his tears…he wasn’t ready maybe.

Oh my God. Irene. The thief of virginity of amateurish boys.

Looking opposite the room…my eyes caught the luminous light from a candle that was almost finished. And I knew what it meant…because she once handled me like this.

What’s this with mistresses and their sub?

When she gets you…you f**k her till the light goes off.

“Seriously Irene…it has indeed been a while,” you could sense the sarcasm in my voice and I know she did.

Because I would never miss Irene—Shameless w***e.

Not ever.

The boy could tell from my tone that I had Irene on chokehold.

“Please…” he pleaded… to Irene.

“Get lost! Weakling.” She growled…maybe from displeasure or for the fact that I caught her.

He obeyed immediately…closing the door behind him.

“Indeed a weakling he is…but the candle is almost gone.” I spoke with visible disgust.

“He is a weakling, I agree…yet he was banging your harder out of his own will.

He is a weakling…yet your candle is almost…wait—“ my eye caught the first burnt candle, and I brought my gaze back to her. “Yet you used 2 candles on him.

How insatiable of you.”

“Caden…” a smirk forming on her lips, as she spread her legs. And yes, I caught a view of her p***y…no doubt she was clean, at least for her age.

Irene had a way of making something look minor…she never saw something wrong in what she does.

She just sat straight up in the large bed, legs spread wide. She didn’t even try to cover herself. Shameless b***h.

“Hahaha…not like you have seen those before,” her fingers curled up on her n*****s, in a very evil flirty way.

“And not like they have effects on me.” I turned my back on her.

“You mean to say…again baby.” She scoffed, “because I remember when you lived on my boobs.”

She wasn’t lying though. After she had broken me…I became sexually aggressive and would f**k her till she got tired.

I guess that was why she found it hard to let me go.

“Irene, stop destroying young virgin boys…it damages them.”

“To f**k me more? Huh” she scoffed, “now that’s what I like…just the way you do it.”

I ignored her taunting flirty look. Just before I could move an inch, she held my hand.

“Just one more time and you are free.”

“Free from? I’ve always been.” I reminded her.

“Oh yea…let’s talk then,” she said as she hugged me from behind…I could feel her bare body on my back.

No doubt Irene was beautifully made—sexy that one could mistake her for being in her early thirties

“I don’t want to talk about anything Irene.”

“Oh sure you would…when I tell them.” She let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Tell them what?”

“Step an inch away from here…and I will let the Russian mafia that…that you once knew Bella.” And she wasn’t kidding…her eyes were far from flirty.

“W-what?” I stammered.

And just before I could catch myself…a greater force made me land on the spring bed.