“Let go of me. You’re hurting me,” I snapped, my words laced with pain. “You might be pissed off at me, but you can’t cause bodily harm. It says so in the contract.”

He only squeezed my arm harder, not seeming to care about the bruises that undoubtedly would be inflicted. I suppose I should have been grateful that he hadn’t beaten me to death, or killed me in some other tortuous way the minute he entered the room. But I couldn’t cower for the man. I couldn’t.

“You have been a very, very bad pet. Do you know what I do to bad little kitties?”

I readied myself for the fury that was about to be unleashed on me. Marco was not a gentle man, this much I could figure out. Nor a caring, a compassionate, or a man of mercy. Tennessee had warned me. The girls at the club had warned me. And yet, I was the stubborn idiot who not only signed on to his list of kinky demands, but I’d taken the money and ran. I couldn’t blame the man for being angry. Not really. I was the one who broke the rules. Not him. But I still hated him, and he was nothing but a disgusting monster in my book. The look in his eyes exuded evil. The devil himself could not have looked any more menacing.

“Did you have fun running away only to be caught? Is that how you like it? You want your body to be taken? You say no but you really mean yes? You’re just lucky I didn’t put a hit on your bitch ass.” His laugh cut through every ounce of bravado I could gather.

What good would begging do? He wouldn’t change his mind. He wouldn’t grant me leniency for my crime. No pardon in his world. And even if I wanted to terminate the contract and give back the money, something told me that all negotiations were over.

Slap!

The sound of his open hand making contact with my cheek crashed in my head louder than any noise I had heard before. But there would be no bruise bad enough to cry foul. A slap was not in violation of the contract. No blood. No damage. Just a fucked up way to treat a woman. Who slaps women across the face these days?

Marco Nunez apparently.

The shock, the stunned surprise—whatever it was had mercifully saved me from retaliating and attacking like a pitbull. I would have never allowed a man to hit me. Never. Not if he wanted to keep his hand. But this was different. What could I do? Scream? Cry? Fight back? I had no real viable option other than to continue to stand there in stunned silence.

“Take your fucking clothes off and become my pet,” was his only command.

I hated him. I hated this. Was the money worth it? No, but I had already climbed the hill that I would die on. The battle had begun and there was no choice but to see it through.

Putting up a fight, screaming, pleading—all would fuel his hate. Weakness only made him stronger. My only hope of enduring this night—these two weeks—was by doing as he ordered and try not to add to his evil onslaught.

I did as he asked, removed my dress, and lowered myself on all fours before him, awaiting his next command.

“Suck me, my dirty bitch,” he said as he lowered his pants revealing his flaccid penis.

My stomach recoiled at the thought of placing his limp, shriveled nub on my tongue, but I also knew I had no choice. Hopefully, if I performed the act well enough, I wouldn’t have to do anything else because he would be too exhausted from coming and not be able to do anything but sleep like the lazy fucker he was.

Closing my eyes in hopes I could ease the nightmare before me, I placed his salty flesh in my mouth, struggling not to gag when his musky scent entered my nostrils. My eyes watered as I desperately tried not to vomit all over his bristly pubic hairs.

His moan burned my ears. I hated giving this man pleasure of any sort. As his hips thrust his growing cock further into my mouth, I dutifully bobbed my head up and down, refusing to let this man take what very little was left of my soul. Up and down, up and down was the cadence I silently chanted. I could… and would survive this, but I was so ashamed. So very ashamed of what I had become. Nothing was worth this. Nothing would make this right. I had become a whore. There was no euphemism, and no way to sugar coat the situation that I had willingly placed myself in.

He fisted a chunk of my hair. “There’s no escaping me,” he said as if he was the all mighty master. If I hadn’t been closing my eyes, I would have rolled them at how little I respected this man. “You belong to me. You make no choices.” He moaned and thrust even deeper, filling my mouth with his creamy seed without warning. “You make no choices, bitch. None. I make them all,” he grunted as he pumped his hips against my lips, emptying himself completely in the back of my throat. I considered spitting it back out, but again, I needed to pick my battles. Maybe this evening would end with just a vile blowjob.

He kept his dick in my mouth until it began to soften. I did nothing more but remain in position, swallowing the last remnants of his filthy essence as I tried to block out the black demons in my mind that threatened to consume me with despair.

“Lick me clean, my kitty. Lick every last bit of my milk.”

He was a sick motherfucker, and I wanted to gouge out his eyes with my kitty nails. Yes, I’d be his pussycat. Let me claw the fuck out of him until he was nothing but a bloody pulp.

“Stay on all fours, pet,” he commanded as he pulled up his pants. “Spread your legs wider so I can see that little kitty of yours.”

I did so, not allowing the panic in that knocked on my soul. But my body involuntarily shook as I waited to see what would happen next.

“Put your face on the floor and spread your legs further. I want to see that tight puckered hole of your ass before I punish it raw.”

Giving me only a second to do as he asked, Marco placed a cold metal dildo at my opening. I didn’t need to look back to know what it was, but when I pushed up on my elbows and glanced back, my assumptions were correct. But what surprised me was at the end of the dildo was a fur tail, giving off the impression of a kitty tail. He was going to fuck my ass with a kitty tail dildo. I could also see that the dildo was so large that no matter how relaxed I tried to be, the dildo would spread my anus to the point of maybe tearing. Fuck what if he tore me? It would be against the contract and cause bodily harm, but by the time I could cry breach, it would be too late. I would have a torn asshole. My only saving grace was that the metal was so smooth it slid in easily enough, because lube was clearly not something Marco believed in.

In it went. No ease, no waiting until my body naturally allowed entry, nothing but a firm thrust. This was not at all like the erotic sensations of what Kenneth had given me. This was not Kenneth in any way. And, of course, Marco didn’t allow my bottom hole to adjust to the intrusion as he began thrusting in and out, quick and strong. I whimpered, but I would not cry out. I would not give the man the power of knowing how the painful and humiliating punishment ripped at my shattered soul even more.

In went the metal dildo—feeling as if it had ripped me in two. Out went the dildo—expanding my tight entrance to the point where my whimper turned to an uncontrolled scream. The fur of the kitty tail brushed against my upper thighs and along the seam of my ass. With tears running down my face, I could no longer show courage because I had none left. My body hurt, my soul destroyed by the excessive anal abuse coming down on me.

“Please,” I cried out. Not for Marco’s ears since I knew my plea would mean nothing to this vile creature. But I called out to the angels of mercy around me, begging for something. Desperately pleading to anyone or anything. “Please, please, please,” I cried out. “Please.”

“You are my pet. My kitty. Meow for me as I fuck your ass with your dirty little tail.”

What the fuck? What was wrong with this man? Was he getting off on this?

“Now,” he commanded as he shoved the kitty dildo up my ass further. “Meow like a good little pussy. Be my dirty kitty.” He pushed the dildo in harder. “Now!”

“Meow,” I squeaked as the anal rod plunged even deeper into my back channel. “Meow.”

“That’s my dirty, dirty pussy. Master likes his dirty kitty when she meows. Again!” He punctuated every syllable with a push or pull of the punishing tool.

“Meow.” What more could I say? What more could I do?

“You are my bad pussy, and I will lock you in a cage for trying to escape.” He jammed the dildo even deeper, harder. The fur of the tail made contact with my anus, telling me that the large dildo was fully inside of me.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. And I was. I was so sorry that I did this to myself. So sorry that I had allowed greed to put me in this situation. Nothing, and no amount of money was worth this. I would rather be the poor trailer trash on exit 222, mile marker 51 eating expired canned beans than this.

Should I scream out the safe word? I could end it all now. Give the money back. I could… but no.

No, motherfucker. You pissed on me, and now you fucked me in the ass with a kitty cock.

He owed me that fucking money. He owed me!

Minutes felt like hours as the brutal ass fucking continued, but eventually Marco grew tired, or bored, and threw the anal device to the ground. “Get cleaned up and compose yourself. Your punishment is over for now. Let’s go put you in your cage, dirty pussy cat.” He gave his maniacal laugh again.