‘Love’s stories written in love’s richest books.
To fan the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes.’
The previous chapters of this story can be found here.
His words were like fire in her brain, scouring out the doubt and fear. Isn’t that what she wanted? To help people? She knew it didn’t make sense to refuse, but still she wavered.
Antonio stepped in front of her, and tilted her chin up. “I see you. I’ve watched you, watching them.”
Cora blushed and tried to turn her head, but his grip tightened to keep her looking at him. Every rational part of her screamed to protest this vile treatment, but the only sound that escaped her lips was a needy mewl.
“Let me help you, Cora. Let me have the drug. We can do so much good, the two of us.”
Still she was silent, faltering.
This was too barbaric, too sadistic. She couldn’t be a part of this.
A minute shake of her head, and his jaw tightened. “I’m running out of patience, Cora,” Antonio said. He straightened up and adjusted his suit jacket. “Alright. A different tactic, then. Come along.”
Waves of dizziness swept over her as he led her in hand back through the facility. Colors and rooms and corridors and windows swam past her, like a dream. Abruptly, she found herself back in the common room. It appeared unchanged.
“Rosalind! You lazy fucking slut,” Antonio barked, making Rosie jump and drop her mop. “What did I tell you? I’m sick of the attitude. My office, now.”
Five minutes later, having sent the two other women off with the deputy warden, Antonio had Rosie bent over his desk. She was crying softly, shivering, listening to him swish a cane through the air menacingly. Cora was again seated to have the best view of the punishment. She wished he would get her another glass of water; her mouth was parched.
“Twelve, lazy whore. Hopefully by then, you can learn to approach your work with more enthusiasm.”
Cora watched with wonder — no, horror — no, fascination — no, crippling sympathy — as the Director laid twelve brutal strikes of the cane in precise rows on her ass. Rosie’s knuckles were white, clutching onto the back side of the desk, and she was sobbing openly by the time he finished.
He gave her half a minute, then spoke. “What comes next, whore?”
Cora watched as Rosie straightened, turned, and sunk down to her knees in front of him. “Thank you for punishing me, Sir. I will mind my attitude and my work.”
He glowered over her. “Yes, you’d better. You don’t like the cane, do you, Rosie?”
“No, Sir.”
“It hurts?”
“Yes, Sir. So much.”
“Very good. Now show Ms Cora what you do next.”
She gingerly unfolded herself from the table, and dropped to her knees in front of him. Rosie’s shaking hands gently unzipped Antonio’s pants, and brought out his cock. Cora’s mouth gaped.
“Please, Sir. I appreciate your punishment. Please use my mouth,” Rosie said, as if by rote.
“How should I use your mouth today, whore?”
Rosie blushed, and ground her jaw. “However you’d like, Sir.”
Antonio smiled wickedly. “Good little slut. You’re learning, if slowly. Now open.”
She opened her mouth, and he let loose a stream of hot piss into her mouth. A new set of tears dripped down her cheeks, and she squeezed her eyes shut.
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