The Girl Next Door

Chapter Two-2

The man backed off. “Take off your shirt.” An order, not a request.

She trembled miserably, nerves fried to frazzled edges; her brain had ceased to work and her stomach continued to be queasy.

“Take off your shirt, Honey. My friends want to see your pretty tits.”

What friends? she wondered.

She struggled with the possibility of staying or fleeing the scene, although fleeing hardly seemed an option now. How could she possibly leave? With her eyes glued to the man’s expectant face, she began fingering the hem of the shirt, then finally tugged it up and over her torso exposing her naked breasts. The man reached in right away and slapped her flesh, lightly at first, then harder, going back and forth from one breast to the next until both were stinging and the skin turned pink. Enough of that, he pushed her to the bed, where she sat, staring at Joey’s hovering body.

“Slaves wear collars,” he said. “Even virgin slaves like our Honey here.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out what looked like a dog collar and held it up for her to see. Then he buckled it around her neck, loose enough for her to breathe, but tight enough for her to notice the encircling band even when she didn’t move.

Taking her chin in his hand, he slapped her face gently, then harder, never with an outright slap, but mockingly; the insult breeding in his bullying attitude. Trina said they’re p*****s, she remembered, but this man was no p***y.

He slapped her breasts, back and forth in the same disdainful way he had her face.

“You like your breasts slapped, Honey?” He slapped them some more. “Huh? Tell me. Tell my friends inside the camera. You like your pretty titties slapped?”

“Yes,” she said, though her voice was faint.

“Yes, what?” he spoke more sharply.

“Yes,” she paused, confused by what he wanted.

“Tell my friends you like them slapped.”

“Yes, I like them slapped,” she repeated back.

“No, Honey, not good enough. You call me, sir. That’s what little slaves do, they call their Masters ‘sir’. Isn’t that right?” He slapped her harder as if punishing a mistake.

“Yes, sir,” she said, faltering and weak.

“Yes, sir, you like your titties slapped,” he went on. “Of course, you like them slapped, you’re a little pain slut, aren’t you? And I’ve got just the thing for pain sluts. We’re going to break you in, Honey. Make you crack. You’re going to get all the nasty treatment you deserve. That’s what we do here. That’s what we show our friends.” He slapped her repeatedly, from her face to her t**s and back, until she was delirious from the constant sting, afraid of where the next blow would land. “We show our friends how to take a pretty girl like you and turn her into the kind of groveling slut slave she really is. You’re gonna like that, Honey, aren’t you? You ever grovel at your boyfriend’s feet?”

She shook her head.

He slapped her face again. “Answer when you’re asked a question.”

“No, sir.”

“No, sir, what?”

“No, sir, I’ve never groveled at my boyfriend’s feet.”

“But you’ll grovel at my feet, won’t you?”

She bit her lip, feeling a pair of painful tears gather in her eyes, threatening to expose her. She gulped visibly. “Yes, sir, I’ll grovel at your feet,” she haltingly answered.

Maybe he smiled, she wasn’t sure. She sat on the bed with him standing over her, strangely mesmerized by his cloying, brutal manner. Her hot, tear-filled molten eyes turned steamy and sensuous as the abuse continued. Something about it took away the immediate fear and let her body linger in the unanticipated afterglow. As if she relished every nasty mocking thing he said. And still, the humiliation stung as badly as his slapping hand.

“I’ll bet you’re a bitchy c**k tease, huh?” He slapped her breasts harder still. “Get up! Take off your skirt. Take everything off.”

She gulped, scared, then carefully moved to her feet. Her eyes were glued to him as she stood, wavering on her high heels, trying to balance but needing the bed behind her to stay upright. She pulled the short black skirt down over her hips and then off her feet where it caught on one heel of her platform shoes. As she kicked them off, she almost stumbled.

Looking up, Randi saw Joey holding a long, thin cane in his hand. He tapped on her legs and hips to keep her moving.

“Humm. Look at that sexy c**k-tease body,” he said, as she went from dressed to naked. “You tease the boys, huh? I’ll bet you really tease the boys, don’t you, Honey?”

She looked at him blankly, fidgeting, jumping every time he rapped her bare flesh with the whippy cane. The cuts began to hurt. Soon each one stung so viciously that she wanted to run away.

“Answer me, Honey. You tease the boys? You flaunt your ass, and your pretty p***y and these slut-girl titties. Hum? Tell me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Yes, sir, what? C’mon, let’s get this right.” Goading, blunt, mean.

“Yes, sir, I flaunt my ass, my p***y and my t**s,” she repeated the words he wanted, while trying very hard, to hold back the threatening tears.

“Like a c**k tease, huh?”

“Yes, sir, like a c**k tease.”

“That’s cause you are a c**k tease, Honey. Aren’t you? You like to tease the boys, to make them horny, get them all charged up and dump them cold.”

“Yes, sir, just like that.” What else could she say?

“But that’s just not gonna do, is it?”

She shook her head, too confused to understand. She kept thinking of Trina. She said it was safe. But there was nothing safe about these terrible minutes.

“You know, little c**k-teases, like Honey here, need to get punished.” Joey spoke as much to the camera as he did to her. Suddenly, the cane swished against her hip and before she could recoup, he struck the other hip and she nearly toppled off her heels again. “What we do here is punish c**k teases like Honey. We punish them real hard, so they hurt really bad. They pay for being bitches. For swishing their asses like they want some. For pushing their titties in front of our eyes.” He hit her back and forth from one hip to the other, from one firm thigh to the next, along her side, then around the back where he caught her ass cheeks with cuts that bit so deeply into the fleshy cushions that she was sure the flesh was broken.

She yelped, jumping away, “Och! Please!” then stumbled back against the bed.

“Stay on your feet,” he barked, then he waited for her to right herself. “Those are pretty shoes. We want to see you dance in those pretty shoes. Come on, come forward.” He stepped back and motioned her away from the bed, then returned to the driving attack. Some cuts were hard, some soft. Some were meant to tease while others hurt. The erratic thrashing sent her body reeling from side to side. She stumbled only to right herself again, unsure where the next stinging cut would land. The tears she held at bay came streaming down her cheeks in tiny rivers. She tried hanging on, enduring, saying nothing, giving Joey what he wanted. But every second, that was getting harder.

“Please, stop!” she finally blurted out, sobbing.

Joey stopped that very second—bizarre, she thought, he actually stopped.

“Hey, what’s this?” – like he didn’t know until now how much she suffered. He moved forward, his behavior suddenly brimming with compassion. His hand worked its way into her hair until he held the back of her neck almost tenderly, making her look him in the eye. “C’mon, Honey. You tease boys, don’t you? Tell me, tell my friends how you tease them.” He pointed to the cameras aimed at their intimate set.

She didn’t answer.

“C’mon on, tell me, tell them,” he insisted. He gave her face another slap.

“Yes, sir, I tease the boys.”

“You make them want you, right?”

“Yes, sir, I-I make them want me.” Every word uncertain, awkward.

“We make little bitches like you pay for being prick teases, Honey. That’s what we do here.” He shook her head as his hand reclaimed her neck in his firm grip. “That thought get you off? You like that? You like getting punished?”

Her eyes filled with tears again. This was too much, way too much to take, not a moment longer… though maybe that was only half the truth. Her mind and body warred. She wanted out as much as she wanted to stay. She wanted to end it now, and at the same time, go on in the same repellant manner.

He smiled derisively, then pushed his hand between her legs, prying her labia apart. The cleaning shaved pubes were the one requirement of her participation in their scheme. Trina told her that they wanted their girls looking virginal like little fountains of youth. Joey held her pubes apart and turned to the whirring camera.

“Honey’s wet. You get that? She’s a c**k-tease and a pain-slut and a horny little bitch.” That truth was gleefully written in his every word as if she’d performed for him on cue. He stuck a finger in her snatch and then pulled it out to show it coated in her thick juices. “Lick it, like you’d lick a lollipop,” he said, holding it up to her mouth. Without thinking, her tongue worked his fingers with an automated zeal, as if she couldn’t do anything else but taste her juices and his skin. She breathed in the scent of him and felt more moisture gather at that dewy gateway below.

“On the floor,” he suddenly pulled his hand away and stepped back. “All fours, c**k-tease,” he barked. He hit her with his whippy cane and she dropped to her knees. “That’s right, Honey, slave sluts crawl.” He bent over to hook a leash to her leather collar, then led her around in a circle, smacking her bare ass and bare hips, leaving strips of red and ,with the harder cuts, bright raw welts etched into her flesh. Her tears flowed. “C’mon. Kiss my boot.” He pushed the toe of his boot forward, into her face. A dusty cowboy boot. “Lick it, Honey, like you would my c**k. I’ll bet you want to lick my c**k, huh?”

She tasted the dirt and felt it take her lower still, far beyond her fantasies, or the lowly places she’d traveled with Mike. Those nights with Mike’s anger had been like spotlights focused on a stage, lighting the scenes of desires she feared and relished with a depraved fascination. She hadn’t played with those desires since she stopped m**********g to the memories of Mike’s firm hand spanking her bottom, and his leather belt slapping against her cheeks. All this happening now brought back the steamy memories of those moments, driving her more deeply into places that she hoped she had abandoned.

She felt the sensation of leather against her cane-scorched ass. From the corner of her eye, she spotted a riding crop flailing on her ass. Joey beat her erratically, hardly pausing for even a second. She was stupid for being here in the first place; this was what she deserved.

When Joey finally stopped, he jerked on the leash and pulled her to her feet, although she stumbled on the damn high heels. He held her at the neck again and smacked her cheek as he had before. The sensation of being choked sent fear rifling through her body. She dared not struggle, but dared not try to wrest from his overwhelming grasp.

“Please, please, can we stop!” she whimpered. He turned her wild-eyed yearning face to the camera.

“Our Honey wants to stop. Too much?” He turned her face back toward his, speaking gently in his sleazy, slimy way. “Had enough?”

She nodded her head.

“Okay, you’ve had enough, so we stop for today. That’s all right. You did good.”

Was that all it took to make him stop?

“But you’re going to come back to me, Honey. We’re going to do this again. We’re going to make another movie. Isn’t that so?”

She shuddered with the thought of returning to this foul scene, but the sweet-talk got under her skin. It roamed about her tossing logic and good judgment out the window like useless garbage.

“Yes, sir,” she said, her voice breathless. Good god, what was she saying?

“Yes, sir, what?”

“Yes, sir, I’m, going to come back.” She spouted the words as if she were unable to do anything but parrot back the words he wanted her to say.

“We’re going to turn you into a slutty slave. Isn’t that right, Honey?”

“Yes, sir, that’s right.”

“You want to be a pain slave?”

“Yes, sir,” she nodded again. And at that moment, that was the honest truth, the beginning and end of her, the only thing she breathed for, desired or needed.

That was, of course, a trick question. He knew it; even she knew it. But she participated in his hoax. After all, this was just a porn flick, a sleazy slice of perfidious playacting performed for the sake of s****l art and cold hard cash. She wanted the cash. Once he let go of the leash and the tight grip on her throat, once the cameras stopped recording and she had the money safely tucked away, all deals were off.