Those sharp points dug in on my skin. I gasped.
“How many times did Malina orgasm?” Eleanor said.
In my mind I relived the van ride; Malina loaded like cargo, the p***y belt pulled tight against her crotch, the vibrating rubber cilia, her moans. And through it all the frustrated bitchiness of the other women as they jealousy reacted to Malina’s torture. Then Eleanor’s other hand squeezed my chin and I wrenched myself back to the present.
“Three!” I shouted. “She came three times.”
Malina tried to attack me, break away from Byron’s grasp, but his firm grip on the back of Malina’s collar kept her rooted in one spot. She shouted, “You f*****g b***h!”
“I had to tell!” I said, then lowered my head. “I had to.”
Then Hayden’s boots came into view. He grabbed my chin, lifted my head up so I
