Broken Lovers

Chapter 7

"Lick it up!"

It took me few seconds to understand what he meant.

"What are you waiting for? Lick it up!"

"I’m not going to lick the floor. You can't force me to swallow your c*m!"

With one fell swoop, he forced me to the floor where I’d spat out his seed and rubbed my face in it. “In that case, you can wear it.” Then he pulled me up and pushed me towards the wall by the door. I’d suspected he was strong and he proved it by taking hold of my hands and forcing my arms above my head before slapping me on the cheeks a couple of times. "You've been disobedient, and I have to punish you for that." I was hurting and tired, and I felt my feet couldn't hold me up any longer. At that moment, my phone rang. The blackmailer let my hands down and told me to answer it. It was Liam. I pretended I was home in bed, exhausted, and said I wouldn’t be able to make it over to his place. He was very understanding and my deceit made me want to cry. I was also feeling disoriented and scared of what was to follow. I couldn’t remember a previous time in my life when I’d felt so lost, vulnerable and all alone.  

"You’re a good liar," the blackmailer said.

"I need to go," I said, trying to stuff my phone in my bag.

"Not so fast," he said. "Take off your top."

"Please, no," I begged.

Before I knew what was happening, he pulled my top off over my head and reached round to unclip my bra, which he threw back over his shoulder. I tried to cover my breasts, but he slapped my hands away. Then he pushed me against the wall, the coldness of which made my n*****s pucker. I tried to push back, but his strength was too much, and so I gave in without a whimper.

“Now for the main event,” he said, taking off his belt.

* * * * *

The water stung as it fell on my body. I twisted and looked at myself in the mirror. It was bad. Angry red marks and weals all over. One or two came dangerously close to my breasts. Tears trickled down my face. I couldn't let Liam see them. I couldn't let anyone see them. I’d have to suffer alone with no one to take care of my wounds. In the mirror, they looked as horrible as they felt. And I had to meet with the blackmailer later in the day.

"Can you please look at my back,” I begged. “I can't show it to anyone and it’s burning so much. Please?”

He pulled my top over my head, very roughly, so much so that I almost screamed from the agony. I wasn’t wearing a bra because it was too painful, and he took the opportunity to sadistically pinch and twist both my n*****s hard. I cried out. He laughed. Using a flashlight, which was most probably from his phone, he turned me round and quickly looked at my injuries.

"You’re going to get infected," he said coldly. “Come!”

He grabbed my arm and sat me on a sofa. Where had that come from? I wasn’t even aware there was anything in the room.

“Lie down on your front and hold a cushion to your mouth.”

“Why?”

 “Because this is going to hurt and I don’t want you to scream.”

I caught the smell of lemons in the air, and he started dripping what I presumed was lemon juice on my wounds. I growled into the cushion. Then something happened I was not expecting at all; he began to lick the juice. Although I was still in pain, it produced a small degree of sweet relief. I was puzzled as to why he was helping me. If his target was to disorient me, he was doing a great job. I started breathing heavily. Was I crazy? I had no idea.

When he turned me face up, I didn't resist. My back touched the soft couch, causing a little extra pain, which soon ebbed away. But I was aware of something else. I was sexually aroused.

"Hold still," he said, his voice still without expression, and I tried to relax as much as was possible.

He traced lines around my breasts and down over my tummy with his fingers. I was becoming more aroused. His hands were surprisingly soft and sensual, and when he pulled down my leggings, I submitted willingly to his desire. My skin was tingling and I felt calmer, although still a little apprehensive. His fingers continued their downward path, lightly brushing through my pubic hair and coming to rest on my lips. I started to pant and a finger slid inside me. It was quickly joined by a second. With my body in total betrayal mode, I pushed back against the intruders.

"You make out you're prim and proper, but you can't help yourself. You want this," the blackmailer said coldly.

I had no words. I just let my body do the talking. After all, I had nothing to lose. I had to take my pleasure while I could. Perhaps I’d regret it later, or maybe I’d be dead. I really didn’t know how it was going to play out. "Get on all fours," he instructed. It was a little awkward, but I complied without a murmur as his fingers continued to probe me.

I was very exposed. I let my head rest against the cushion. He slapped the inside of my thighs as a signal for me to part my legs and then he somehow manouvered underneath me. I felt his tongue join his fingers as they f****d me slowly and rhythmically. His tongue knew its way around and my c**t was soon on fire. I began to gasp loudly and the urgent sound of his slurping mouth increased my wetness. I was getting closer and closer to the big O, much quicker than at any time previously. Then it hit me, and I groaned aloud as my orgasm washed over me in an invisible arc, enveloping me as sweat ran down my breasts.

But he wasn't done.

Moving out from under, he positioned himself behind me once more, and then started to finger-f**k me again, only this time, he added a third finger and then a fourth. I’d never felt so full. I’d never felt anything like it, and I nearly lifted myself off the sofa, such was the mixture of surprise and pleasure as he mercilessly plunged his fingers in and out. At that point, I lost control and squealed like a stuck pig, my orgasm flooding over me in breaker-sized waves as he continued to pump me. And then just like that, he withdrew, leaving me to feel empty, in more senses than one, as my state of ecstasy quickly spiraled downwards.

"What a slut,” my blackmailer said. “Nothing but a cheap ho. I always thought so. Now I know for sure.”

With my euphoric bubble well and truly burst, I felt embarrassed and angry. I moved off the sofa and began to dress, hoping my blackmailer would let me do so in peace, which he did, remaining distant in both thought and space. But in spite of the situation, I couldn't help still feeling aroused. It had been probably the best orgasm I'd ever had. What was wrong with me?