To see what floats

By now Lucy was becoming really rather hot and bothered by the attentions the storyteller was giving her. All thought of sleep had been wiped from her mind. She was engrossed in the sadness of her angel’s past, but somehow knew that was not how the still-young woman herself saw it. Slipping her long fingers in and out of the girl she had rescued, there was shame in the telling… but also a deep, dark undertone of wistful excitement. It was as if the swelling feelings she was drawing from Lucy’s depths were part of the story too… an added layer of texture as to the reasons why she had made the choices she had. Let herself be taken advantage of, again and again.

“The man who had first taken my virginity looked me up and down, as if he only just recognised me. Things had not gone so well for him over the last few years. He had tried to emulate his success with me, but had ‘borrowed’ the daughter of the wrong family. She had got pregnant, but it had not, in fact, been his. One of his friends had cut him out of the picture. There had been several lawsuits from the family and said ex-friend. Apparently no-one expressly remembered him asking the girl if she wanted to be invaded by himself and three others… He’d had to sell his share of the yacht. It would seem a certain new mother and her baby-daddy had taken it down to Costa del Sant. ‘Bitter about it’ was putting his countenance lightly. He invited me in though, offered me a glass of scotch while reciting these woes. All the while his eyes trailed over my slightly battered form, weighing up where the last few years had taken me as well. We got quite drunk together that night. I woke up handcuffed to his bed. He straddled me and slid his cock down my throat until I nearly choked. I looked up at him through watery eyes and wondered what he’d do next. A sly smile spread across those lips.

Over the next few weeks I lived in his house and took on a new role as receptacle for all his built up frustrations. We barely spoke. He'd just feed me and fuck me. At any time of day or night I was his to tie up in some new and precarious position and be taken from behind, or above, or below. Once again he was opening up a whole new realm of sexual exploration for me. I felt it was exactly what I deserved. I had run away from my family, my education, everything… Just be the plaything of spoiled brats who barely even knew what to do with me. Who barely ever brought me close to a satisfying climax. This man wasn't young and full of potential baby juice. He didn't even pretend to love me as anything more than a human toy. But he knew exactly what to do to set my submissive heart racing. To make me beg for more punishment to my whorish young body and soul. I looked up at him from my knees and worshipped the cock he slapped my face with…”

Lucy was now writhing against the restraints of her bed-fellow’s embrace. She could see herself kneeling before that dark and smirking figure. Feel the fluttering heart that had dwelt in Diane’s heart back then. The Sister of right then seemed to realise she was drawing out too much, too soon however… her ever-so-skilled digits slowed down their magic efforts. Keeping the younger girl just simmering on the edge of explosion in trembling wonder.

“At some point his ‘wife’ began to appear. A thin faced woman in her late forties, with a glaring frown that never seemed to go away. She seemed to enjoy torturing me even more than he did. She would play games of hot and cold with me, with ice and red-hot wax. She would make me lick her boots, would bite my lips, would keep my head between her thighs all evening while they were ‘entertaining guests’. She delighted in letting strangers fuck me: Handymen working on the house. Delivery boys bringing us food or parcels. Random strangers we met while walking her dogs. I came to see her more as my master than her husband. I would rush to do anything she asked of me, laundry, cleaning or bending over while she slid a huge dildo in and out of me. She asked me to call her ‘mother’, and I did… slowly forgetting what my real mom looked like.

It would seem having such an entertaining pet began to help the pair of them rise in favour again. They started taking me to fancy parties again… only now I was more part of the attractions. The furnishings. I would be used as a food platter. As a card table or a foot stool. I would act as a ‘cock polisher’ in between the fancy-dressed lords and ladies elaborate erotic games. I would be handed over to the waiters and cooks as a reward for all their hard work. I wasn’t expected to talk to anyone or meet their eyes. Once or twice I spotted old acquaintances: young men I had tried to produce a child for or women who had once complimented my fashionable dress sense… If any of them recognised me, they didn’t show it. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised when I was left behind. My bare stomach was being used to show the cards when the hand that won me unfolded. I watched my former mistress storm off and grab her coat, closely followed by the man who had once promised me an island. I just lay there motionless. The game was still in play. I wasn’t the last lost bet of the evening.”