Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Marcus
She is very nearly falling out of her shirt as she rises, her face full of red shame. She reaches under her shirt to pull her straps up and out, settling her breasts back into captivity.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” she says. Her voice is shaky. She looks unsteady. I reach out to try to help her keep upright, but she swats my hand away.
“Oh?”
I wait to see what she’ll say next, but she doesn’t say anything at all. She opens her mouth a few times, but ends up shutting it again before she can form a word. It’s not easy to make your mind work when you’ve just been thoroughly punished and your flesh is still ripe with searing heat.
Instead of saying anything, she turns and runs out of the bar, finding the stairs next to the elevator and busting through the door like the heroine in an action movie.
I follow her, but she is fleeing at top speed, and I fear that chasing her will cause her to break her silly neck as she chooses to take the stairs rather than the elevator. She is going to be freaking out for a very long time with all of these stairs, but that does not seem to be of concern.
“Slow down, Charlie,” I call out. “You’re going to break your neck.”
She doesn’t listen, of course. If she were the sort of girl to learn a lesson the first time she was taught it, she wouldn’t be running down almost a hundred flights of stairs with her ass on fire.
As she rushes down the stairs, the heel of her left shoe snaps in that undignified way women’s shoes sometimes do. She stumbles for a moment, nearly breaks her damn neck, and proceeds to throw herself into a car, her shoe behind.
My very own little Cinderella.
CHAPTER 3
Charlie
I am absolutely mortified. I cannot believe Marcus did that to me. I cannot believe he pinned me down over his lap and spanked my butt like I was some bad little girl.
My head is swimming both with the effects of alcohol, and with the shame of my ordeal. My pussy is aching. He didn’t just fuck me. He fucked me so well I will know I’ve been fucked for a very long time.
“Where would you like to go?” The taxi driver looks over his shoulder at me.
I give my address. It’s a long ways away, and I hear the driver hesitate for a second, right before he remembers that rideshare apps exist and he’s lucky to get a fare at all.
As the city starts to slide by the windows, I sink down in the cool leather seat and I try to both forget about what just happened as well as focus relentlessly on it. I really thought the evening would be more of a success than that. I thought he might find me boring, or perhaps be called away to one of his many important meetings. I never imagined I’d have his full physical attention, and that he would manhandle me.
My ass is still stinging, and there is an ache that abates sometimes but starts up all over again every time I move. I hate that I can still feel what he just did to me. I should press charges for that. I should make him fucking pay for treating me like I am one of the very, very many things he possesses.
I’m going to get even. I’ve already decided that. But I’m also not going to make a formal report to the authorities. Not yet. I want to get Marcus Waterstone brought to justice, but not for smacking my butt. I want to go deeper. The absolute embarrassment he’s made me suffer is going to motivate me the rest of the way. He made a mistake when he treated me like a simple girl and he’s going to regret…
“We are here, miss.”
“We are?”
I look out the window and see that he is correct. My apartment building is right across the street from us. Everything is smaller and plainer here than it was in the part of the city where Marcus dwells. People rush by on the sidewalk, wearing jeans and sneakers and puffy plastic derived coats. I feel myself relaxing a little as I find myself once more among my own people.
I get myself together, cursing under my breath as I realize I’ve lost a shoe. This is so messy. I haven’t been this out of control since college.
“How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing whatsoever, ma’am.”
“But we came almost an hour out of your way.”
“That’s my job.”
I am confused. I haven’t paid much attention to the cab. Or wait, is it an uber? I have been much more concerned with my own disappointing experience with Marcus Waterstone than paying attention to the manner of my leaving his building. I must be even more flustered than I thought.