A broken Remy in the morning

Remy wakes up on the floor.

The first thing she understands is the rug. It has printed her hip. Her neck is twisted from the pillow Mia threw down like an afterthought. Then the rest arrives. Throat raw. Jaw sore. Cunt swollen and leaking. Skin tight where cum dried and pulled overnight.

She looks at herself in the morning light and cannot find the woman from the cubicle.

Dried cum is flaked across her tits, white on her nipples, a cracked stripe down her sternum. Her stomach is smeared. Her face feels stiff with it — cheek, mouth, the corner of one eye — from the times Mia told him to finish there and told Remy not to wipe. Between her legs she is a mess. When she shifts, a thick ooze of last night slides out of her used cunt onto her thigh, still wet underneath what dried in her pubic hair. She tastes him when she swallows. Her mouth is coated. Her throat still holds the shape of being fucked.

On the bed, Mia and Adam sleep like the room belongs to them. Because it does. Mia is tucked under his chin. His hand is on her waist. They look rested. They look married. Remy is on their floor with their night painted on her.

She remembers how thorough Mia was.

After the first load on her face, Mia had left her kneeling marked and dripping while she cleaned Adam with her own mouth. Then she had put Remy on her back, held her legs open, and told him to show her colleague what a real cock felt like.

He had pushed in and Remy’s lie had died on the first stroke. The stretch was brutal. She had made a sound she used to mock other women for. Mia had leaned over her and made her look at the place they were joined.

That’s my husband’s cock in you. That’s why you limp if you actually take him. You don’t know how to handle it. You never did. You talked. This is what the talk was covering.

He fucked her until she came with tears in her eyes, clenching, shaking, saying please without knowing what she was asking for. Mia made her repeat it between thrusts. I get fucked because you permit it. I am a slut for a married man’s cock. I lied at work. Remy said all of it. The bitchiness had nowhere to live.

Mia put her on her knees next and spread her ass with both hands so she could watch. Remy had to present. Thumbs in her crease, cunt held open, Adam’s thick cock punching in and out while Mia described it like inventory. How wet she was. How her hole clung. How ridiculous she looked bragging in an office and then dripping on someone else’s sheets. When Remy tried to bury her face, Mia pulled her hair up so she had to stare at the headboard and take the commentary.

He used her throat in the middle of the night because Remy’s voice started to come back. Mia put her on the floor beside the bed — this floor — and stood over her while Adam fucked her mouth. Remy gagged, drooled, cried. Mia told her that a teacher would have known how to keep her teeth back and her throat open. A toy just takes it. Adam came down her throat. Mia held her jaw until she swallowed, then made her stick out her tongue and show the room she had nothing left to say.

After that Mia stopped letting her pretend there were pauses.

On her side, one knee at her tit, so Mia could sit close and watch every inch sink. In Adam’s lap facing the chair, Remy’s tits in his hands, forced to bounce on him while Mia fingered herself and came looking at Remy’s wrecked face. Bent over the foot of the bed with her feet on the rug, fucked so hard her teeth clicked, while Mia sat in front of her and tapped Remy’s cheek whenever her eyes drifted.

Look at me while my husband uses you. You don’t get to disappear. You don’t get dignity. You get put in your place.

He came in her until Remy could feel herself sloppy with it, until it ran down her thighs when he pulled out and Mia made her stay spread and look at the leak. That’s a married man’s load. That’s what you begged for. That’s what you are worth. Then he put it back in and kept going, using the mess, until Remy came again in ugly, helpless pulls and asked Mia for permission to stop. Mia said no.

At the end Mia had her on her back again, legs wide, and told Adam to fill her one more time. He did, buried, groaning, pulsing into a cunt that could not take any more and took it anyway. Remy came around that last flood with her mouth open and no voice left.

She reached for the bed because her body still thought she was a guest.

Mia stopped her with two fingers on her shoulder.

“The floor,” she said. “Toys don’t sleep in the bed. That’s your place tonight. Under us. Full of him. On the rug.”

Adam got into bed with his wife. Mia dropped a pillow on the floor without looking to see if Remy caught it. Remy lay down in the dark with cum cooling on her face, leaking from her cunt, drying on her tits, and listened to them settle above her. Sheets. A kiss. The quiet of people who were done with a thing they had used.

She gets to her feet, unsteady, last night running down her leg, and walks toward the bathroom when she hears Mia speak.