Cash, Ass, or....well...ass. (The Abusive Dominator & Sinshyne)

[Sinshyne]

Holly shut the door behind her with a sigh. Kicking off her heels before she moved one inch further into her apartment. She sniffed, smiling. Bless his heart, he had tried to cook tonight. She cooked extra on weekends so he didn’t HAVE to cook. Neither of them liked it when he did. He tried, but he definitely had zero culinary talent. And she didn’t have the heart to complain, she just ate every bite whether it was sodden, bland, oversalted, or burned. And then told him what a wonderful man he was and how it was such a relief to not have to worry about cooking when she came home.

This time it smelled like pure grease, so it must be meatloaf. He appeared in the doorway of the kitchen as she was sliding the thin blazer off her shoulders.

“Welcome home, baby!” He bounded down the hall to her, wrapping his strong arms around her and whirling her around, smacking a loud kiss on her lips. She laughed, high on joy. Clinging to his strong shoulders, giggling against his lips.

“You are gonna knock my head on the ceiling one of these days, silly man.”

He chuckled, setting her stockinged feet back down on the floor. “Just gives me a reason to kiss it and make it better.”

“What did you make tonight? It smells delicious.”

He laughed loudly. The joyous sound echoing down the hallway.

“You are far too kind to me, darling. It is meatloaf with green beans and mashed potatoes. At least the green beans are edible.”



They were, and not much else was. But she ate the beans happily, cozy and surrounded by his love. But then she spotted the envelope on the counter, and her gut twisted in dread.

“Michael, what is that?”

He looked over and sobered. “The electric disconnect notice. They will disconnect Friday if we don’t pay.”

She sobered, her mind racing through a mental listing of their bank account balance and bills due.

“We can’t. We don’t even have enough for rent and that is past due. HE will be up here any day…”

Her voice faded as dread curled in her belly. Michael’s face softened sympathetically, and he reached out over the table and captured her hand. Holding it as he looked earnestly into her eyes.

“Baby, you know I would never let him hurt you. I know how he looks at you and it pisses me off too. But I also can’t blame the man. You are gorgeous, baby. Any man with a working dick wants you.”

She flushed, ducking her head shyly at his praise. Still, what were they going to do?

He was wondering the same thing, the look in his eyes haunted.

“You know I keep trying, baby. I haven’t given up. Every day I hand out damned resumes, and every day I get the calls turning me down. Fuckers. I wasn’t even guilty, but I did the time, and now they won’t let me live my fucking life and take care of my woman.”

His rage was growing, and she patted his hand anxiously.

“I know, Michael. It isn’t fair. But its ok. We will work things out. We always do. Maybe we can get some extra time with the rent and….there is a chance I can get another job. Working as a secretary doesn’t pay much. I can….”

He lifted his hand, holding a finger to her lips. Sad eyes watching her.

“Stop. Stop stressing about it, baby. You are doing everything you can.”

“Maybe Daddy…..”

He frowned then, anger glowing in his eyes.

“Don’t mention that fuck. They treated you like hit when I was in jail. Your father is a self righteous asshole, and I would rather be homeless on the street than ask him for a damned dime. And your mother is so far up his ass you couldn’t get her out with forceps.”

She laughed at that, and the tension around the table melted. He half stood, leaning over the table and their plates of green beans and kissing her forehead, petting her silky black hair.

“Don’t, baby. I will figure something out. I hate seeing you stressed. I wish my Dad were still alive. I know they would help us out.”

She nodded. She had never met his parents, but knew from everything he had told her they had been good, amazing, dependable people.

“I’m just glad we don’t have to worry about children right now.” He mused, before eating a forkful of green beans. Her face tightened and she looked away. It was the one point of disharmony between them. She desperately wanted children, under any circumstances. He had never seemed interested in children, and now used their financial stress as a reason to not pursue having them. She had even occasionally thought of secretly taking herself off the pill, but hadn’t had the heart to be so deceitful yet.



They cleaned up, chatting happily amongst themselves. Hands wandering. Touching. His lips on the back of her neck, his hands gently pulling her hair to the side. Her playful laughter as she stood over the black lump of meatloaf hacking away at it with a knife that bounced back off the undamaged loaf. His mock outrage, then her squeals as he chased her around the kitchen.

He was 27, she was 23. But they were really delighted children in love playing at keeping house.



At least until the doorbell rang and their playful teasing paused. Dread returning to both their eyes as they looked at each other. Cheeks turning pale.

With a deep sigh, Michael went to the door, pulling it open.

 

[The Abusive Dominator]

Somewhere in a thriving state in America, there was an apartment complex owned by a man. Truth be told, outside of lifting weights, eating excessive food, and running a steroid business out of the cops' radar, this man didn't really have much going for in his life. Never once did he have a proper girlfriend, his only experience with sex being the ladies he met for short hookups, the kind of women who found his muscles and his way of words tempting. He was educated, though, with upright morals in many things save for the female sex. His longest "relationship" lasted a whole month and the lady left him when she finally realized he only treated her as a pretty sex doll.

Nevertheless, he wasn't the kind to not fit in in most social situations. He had grace and was friendly. But deep beneath that layer of pleasantness was someone yearning to obtain concubines. Not wives or girlfriends, but female subordinates.

His name was Bronson Vice, and he was the owner of the Billy Hills apartment, made for working class people who were either deadbeats or at the early stages in their careers. It wasn't unpleasant to look at, but it was clear it wasn't made for rich people. At age 31, the man was starting to re-evaluate his priorities. He'd had consensual conquests and most of the women did enjoy the experience, but the man was starting to see the error of his thinking. Maybe, perhaps, if he were to genuinely see women in a new light, he would find a girlfriend or a wife... Until that fateful day he met a couple...

There was something about Holly that struck him. Simply, it was her sheer beauty. This stirred some ugly emotions in his heart and he decided to postpone his "healthy transformation" and try to indulge in the woman's pussy. The only problem was she seemed genuinely in love with her partner. He concluded there was no way to her panties... Nevertheless, he was glad to see another glimpse of her as he knocked on the door to charge for rent. He knocked on the door...

He was greeted by Michael. As Michael opened the door, he slightly smiled to him and said hello. "How are you?"

 

[Sinshyne]

Holly hovered in the background, anxiety making the green beans she had just eaten twist in her stomach. Michael faced down his landlord, wishing desperately he could blame the man. But he couldn't. Bronson wasn't a bad guy, despite his unfortunate last name. And despite his propensity for ogling Michael's wife. Michael couldn't blame him there - he ogled Holly and he was married to her! And it was the ninth, well after the fifth - the latest day to pay the rent. It was right that the man be seeking his due payment.

No, unfortunately Michael couldn't blame the man at all. He offered a weak smile, taking a step back to allow the man to step into the apartment. No point in all the neighbors knowing about the unfortunate situation as well.

"Hello, Bronson. I'm sorry you are having to come like this. I am afraid we haven't been able to get together the rent this month. We are about $300 short. If you don't mind we can..."

"Would you like some cinnamon coffee cake, Mr. Vice?" Holly's voice was shrill with nerves, and Michael winced. It really did make him feel like a piece of shit husband that she was always so worried about money. He led the way into the living room, making a gesture for their visitor to sit on their second hand couch. It was an ugly mud brown color with a couple dark stains and cigarette holes, but no one else knew because Holly had sewn a pretty rosebud on white cotton print cover for it.

"If you are willing to give us just till...not next Friday but the Friday after, we can get the rest of the rent." Michael continued from Holly's interruption. Left unsaid was the fact that would leave them short of funds for the next rent. And in the dark as well.

 

[The Abusive Dominator]

The funny thing about Bronson was that despite his capability of scaring the shit out of rich people who had no inkling of what a truly tough neighborhood was like, he was actually a compassionate man. He was almost a good method actor, managing to duplicate certain emotions at certain times. But beyond that social technique, he did actually care about people and their well-being. He spoke.

"I understand. I want to give you two the benefit of the doubt but... I mean, what would the neighbors think if I let this kind of stuff fly? I have to be fair to them as well."

He was silent for a moment and refused Holly's cinnamon cake.

But his reasoning was a facade. He had a plan.

"So... Uh, Holly, are you the one working in this household?"

Whatever mind-your-own-business defense the couple might throw at him, he just didn't care at that point. He was progressing towards a goal.

 

[Sinshyne]

She darted back into the kitchen, quickly slicing a generous hunk of cinnamon coffee cake onto a small saucer and bringing it out to him. Handing it to him with that nervous, quivering smile that always churned her husband's stomach with self contempt. A man should be able to provide for his wife so that she never once got that terrible frightened look on her face.

She darted a sympathizing look at her husband as she answered as smoothly as she could. "Yes, but we are sure Michael will find a job soon. And I am hoping to get a raise within the next few months."

It was an outright lie. No raise had been mentioned, or ever would. The small architecture firm of Wheeling and Wheeling had no intention of paying their overworked secretary more than they already were - that had been made quite clear the last time she had timidly asked for a raise. She offered a brave smile to the landlord.

"We just need a month or so and we will be able to pay timely."

Another lie. In a month or so they would probably be in the exact same financial situation, or worse. She knew it. Michael knew it. And she suspected even Bronson knew. She thoughtlessly tucked her long black hair behind her ear and sat primly in one of the second hand chairs covered with a pretty pink and white flowered throw. All of the living room furniture was second hand and horribly ugly. And she had covered it all with harmonizing covers made from sheets she purchased at the thrift store for a dollar or less. She was still wearing the black pencil skirt and mauve silk shirt from work, and as she sat she tugged at the hem of her skirt, feeling his hungry eyes on her.

She always told Michael she hated how their landlord looked at her. But what she really hated was how her body responded. Liquid heat surging through her loins. She didn't dare tell Michael that. She was NOT attracted to their landlord. Not at all. Not in her mind or heart. But her body...her rebellious body cared nothing for her mind and heart. She forced herself to stop worrying about whether he could see up her skirt, crossing her legs primly. Michael sat on the arm of the stuffed chair, placing a comforting arm around her shoulder as he nodded in support of her lies.

"It's true. I had a very good interview the other day and I am expecting a call any day."

Lies upon desperate lies.

 

[The Abusive Dominator]

Of course, as a human being, Bronson couldn't read minds. He had a logical mind that he could use to connect the dots and get good conclusions, but that has its limits. At that point, in his head was the basic syllogism... People who are desperate lie. These people are desperate. They are lying.

That's what he chose to believe, and believe it he did. But he bit his tongue. Should he have been a caveman or some other place where there was no law enforcement, he would've seized such a princess by way of force. Deep down he was a good man, but his resistance to temptations was pretty fucking weak.

He nodded, then spoke.

"Alright. So umm... Two weeks from now? If there's no payment at that point I'd have to give you an eviction notice."

After some few more words among the couple and with him, he left. As he was walking back to his office, he grinned. He had Holly's phone number because he was their landlord and sent this text message...

Hi Holly. Bronson here. I can forgive you and your husband a whole two months of rent. It's okay. Call me. I understand. I've been in the same situation before.

He was worried she might show that text message to her husband, but he was also thinking that in that message was the implicit suggestion to keep the conversation between the two of them only. What had he got to lose?

 

[Sinshyne]

The relief from the couple was almost tangible as he agreed to the two weeks grace period. They knew deep down it was only delaying the inevitable, but that was two weeks more with a roof over their head. They were still spilling out grateful words when he left, but when the door closed behind him the words stopped and she flew into her husband's arms. He collapsed back onto the couch and they just sat there for a long moment, holding each other.

She didn't dare voice the cry of her heart, 'What are we going to do?"

He didn't dare voice the rage in his - how could he, as a man, possibly allow his wife to suffer like this?

They watched a bit of tv, then made their preparations for bed. As Michael was in the shower, Holly went to get her phone out of her purse and put it on the charger. It was then she saw the text. She stood stark still in the bedroom, staring blankly at it. She didn't want it to mean what she thought it did. But she was certain it did.

The shower turned off and she turned her phone off, plugging it into the charger. And when Michael came out she said nothing to him.

She said nothing to him about that text either before or after they made love, but it was on her mind the entire time. And she came harder than she ever had before.

Afterwards, as Michael slept against her back, she cried silently. What did it mean? She didn't want to cheat on Michael. She didn't understand why her body was so responsive to the thought of Bronson.

The next morning, she showed the text to Michael. Of course she showed it to him. They had never kept secrets from each other.

She had never seen him so angry. He had shouted and cursed and threatened. Punched a hole in the bedroom wall. Twice had begun to leave the apartment and storm down to their landlord's apartment, both times being restrained by a frantic Holly. Then his anger deflated and he sat on the edge of their marriage bed and cried. She comforted him, knowing he was thinking the same as her. It was an opportunity they did not dare let pass them by.

It had taken most of the night for her to come to acceptance of the offer. She was surprised - and secretly disappointed - it took him half the time to accept it. His acceptance was indicated by the bitterness in his voice when he asked her,

"So you want to fuck him for rent, huh?"

"No!" Tears were in her pretty dark eyes as she knelt there at his feet. Capturing his hands in hers. "No, absolutely not. You know that, Michael. You know I only ever want you. But...you know what will happen if I don't."

He dropped his head, his shoulders sagging. It hurt her, to see him look so damned defeated.

"It's not just rent. It's the electricity. Your probation fees.....Michael if we can avoid paying two months of rent we can pay the electricity AND your probation fees. If we don't pay them by the end of next month they might send you back to jail."

They talked a long time. She called in sick to work - the first time she had ever done so. They talked more over a breakfast of egg mcmuffins and orange slices. Then they kissed and made love again. Slow, tender love. Only when they were done, lying naked against each other in bed, did he reach for her phone on the bedside table and hand it to her.

"Call him. I want you to call him when you are lying naked in my arms."

She called him. Their hearts pounding with each shrill ring as they waited for him to pick up.

 

[The Abusive Dominator]

At that time, in Bronson's apartment room, he was watching one of those ancient-themed war movies while laid back in his red la-z boy couch on a big screen TV. He was shirtless and munching on french fries thinking what he should do this weekend after the workouts. Then his phone rang. He smiled. He already knew who was calling.

He grabbed his phone, looked at it, and answered.

"......Hello."

(Did you get notified of this post automatically? Or certain settings had to be set first?)

 

[Sinshyne]

((I got notified of it xD However that may be because I started it. I think there is an option at the top to Watch a thread though))

Her eyes met Michael's at the sound of the rather satisfied sounding greeting. Michael's eyes darkened, and he reached out for the phone, snatching it away from her before she had a chance to stop him.

"She got the text. Why don't you come up and we will all discuss it together?"

It could have been a threat. It could have been an invitation. It could have been both. The tightness in his voice was undeniable, but there was no overt threat. He hung up without any further word.

"Oh God, Michael, what if he kicks us out?"

He ignored her, sitting up and reaching for his jeans. "Get dressed." He snapped. "He hasn't agreed to anything so he doesn't even get to see your tits."

Stung she angrily reached for her own clothes, a pair of black shorts and a loose, thin, gray tshirt.

When they went to leave the bedroom he stopped her. Hands on her slender shoulders. Drawing her to him, kissing her forehead gently. "I'm sorry, baby. This isn't your fault. I am mad at myself, not you."

She offered him a small, strained smile, and they moved into the living room together to wait for him....IF he decided to show up.

 

[The Abusive Dominator]

The words that Bronson heard were not what he wanted to hear. Apparently, Holly told her husband. As the conversation ended and he hung up, he dropped his phone, laid back his head and looked at the ceiling. He did some thinking...

Alright, so he knows...

He grinned.

Yeah... I wonder how this guy would really be like with an actual confrontation.

He was done showering at that point so no need. He put on some red long sleeve shirt and jeans. Tennis shoes. He thought of potential physical threat and concluded that since he does have some experience wrestling, it wouldn't be too much of a problem.

Holly wasn't just some girl. To him she was the most beautiful he'd seen, no doubt about it. He stood up from his couch and traveled to Holly's and Michael's.

He was at the doorstep and knocked.

 

[Sinshyne]

It was Michael that opened the door. His expression deliberately neutral as he stiffly nodded and moved back, wordlessly inviting Bronson inside. Holly sat on the chair where she had sat earlier, unable to look Bronson in the face.

Michael shut the door behind Bronson, his voice tight but mild. "So I understand you want to fuck my wife in exchange for forgiving our rent money?"

"Michael..." Holly pleaded.

"No, Holly. Let's be real here. It is what he wants, and what we are considering. Right?"

Anger rippled underneath Michael's deliberately calm voice. Holly visually cringed, scarlet embarrassment flushing her cheeks.

Michael sat on the arm of her chair again, his arm over her shoulders. His eyes telling Bronson that even if Bronson fucked her, she still belonged to Michael.

"So what do you want for two months rent?"

 

[The Abusive Dominator]

"You got it right, Michael."

After he said those words, he looked at Holly up and down. He spoke to Michael.

"Definitely the prettiest girl I've seen ever. Is she good at sucking cock? Or you and her only have sex in a normal way?"

He paused momentarily and continued.

"I want her to be my sex slave for two whole days. Now, it doesn't have to be two days in a row. It can be one day this week, second day next week. Or each month. Whatever. Just for two days, I want her to submit to what I wanna do to her. Do you really want me to describe the stuff I plan on doing?"

He started chuckling.

"I wanna sample her right now." He looked at Holly and tapped the available space to his right as he sat on the couch.

"Come on, Holly. I wanna taste you real quick and see if I like it. The fun won't start yet."

 

[The Abusive Dominator]

((Please don't forget to describe what she's wearing.))

 

[Sinshyne]

Michael grit his teeth while Holly stared down at the floor, her cheeks flushed scarlet. The blush spreading down her slender neck as her fingers worried the ragged hem of her black shorts. Michael's jaw flexed angrily.

"A sex slave." His voice was flat. "Two days...two days how? From what time to what time? 24 hours? 12 hours? From dawn to dusk? What specific times?"

Holly looked up for the first time since Bronson had come into the room. This was horrible. Now that they were talking about it it felt so real, and it was frightening. Would Michael hate her for allowing this? Would she hate him for allowing this? But really, what choice did they have? It was either this or homelessness. And if Michael were homeless, they would end his probation and he would go back to jail.

"I want Michael there." She finally spoke, her voice hesitant.

"Oh I will definitely be there." Michael's voice was firm. "Call her a slave for a day if you want, but you won't hurt her."

She started to get up out of the chair, her fingers bracing against the arm of the chair and Michael's thigh, but he pushed her back.

"No tasting. But if you agree to me being present, you can have tomorrow for the first day. It's Saturday, she is off work. And it happens here. In our apartment. Bring your own condoms." Michael's hand stroked her hair, reminding her that his anger was not directed at her.

 

[The Abusive Dominator]

Slowly, Bronson started laughing, then he stopped.

"You love her don't you? And you wanna see me have sex with her? ... Fine, fine, I guess I can understand... Day off tomorrow so, be ready. I'll knock on your door at about 10 AM. Make sure she's clean and ready. She showered, and everything."

This was all new to Bronson, but as he was experienced with sex, the only thing that he was really worried about was Holly's boyfriend getting in the way. And he thought also, since they officially agreed to it, anything goes outside of true harm. He did wonder about the lady's sexual experience, whether she only had normal sex up to that point, or had experience with things like BDSM, gangbang, and anal. And he was genuinely amused at the paranoia in their heads of him potentially 'hurting' her.

After that meeting and negotiating, Bronson left their apartment...

The coming morning, at 10 AM, there was a knock on the door of the couple...

 

[The Abusive Dominator]

((Husband, I mean. Not boyfriend. My bad.))

 

[Sinshyne]

"Of course I love her", Michael snapped. Even Holly looked annoyed as their landlord continued.

"I think I know how to bathe, thank you."

Silence reigned when Bronson let himself out. A few long, tense moments passing by before Holly's small voice asked, "Are we really doing this?"

He sighed heavily. "Only if you are willing, Holly. If you don't want too, we will figure something out. I swear it. I don't care if I have to rob a fucking bank."

She let out a small laugh, then sighed. "It's just one day for an entire month of rent. And it's just sex. Just physical."

He nodded. "Just physical. And I will be there. We will get through it together."

They paid the electric bill that night, and Holly knew that was their final decision. If there had been any doubt, they would have reserved that money for rent.

The next morning she woke before Michael. Lying in bed and staring up at the ceiling. So today would make her...what...a whore? Trading sex for money. She was disturbed to find she was anticipating it. She slipped out of bed, drawing a bath. Dropping in some citrus scented bath oils before she climbed in, leaning back into the hot water with a sigh. Baths were a rare pleasure for her, usually only indulged once or twice a month. She took her time with this one, she had it. It wasn't even eight yet. She washed her hair, carefully attended to any body hair, and finally rose from the water sleek and soft, wrapping her wet hair in a towel and another towel around her body, going into the bedroom. Michael was still asleep, so she went to the kitchen. Since it was going to be a long, stressful morning and she didn't know when people would be interested in eating, so she decided to fix a grazing platter. Soon the smell of sizzling bacon and frying sausage filled the kitchen. She whipped up some pancake batter and made dozens of small blueberry pancakes, arranging them on the platter surrounded by blueberries, strawberries, and sliced bananas. A small bowl of syrup, another of whipped cream. Then she boiled some eggs, cut them in half, and nestled them into a pretty pale green bowl, with small piles of pepper and sugar beside it.

She was just finishing pouring out the pepper when a hand reached across her, snagging a small pancake. She smiled up at Michael, kissing him on the cheek.

"Good morning."

"Good morning, baby. You look delicious." He reached out, flicked a finger, and the towel melted to the floor around her. She shrieked, laughed, and sprang away. He chased her, laughing all the way into the bedroom where he snagged her, tumbling her into bed underneath him. His hand on her cheek as he kissed her, then looked into her eyes. "Are you alright?"

She sucked in a nervous breath, nodding.

"Yes, if you are."

He wasn't really. Neither was she. But they were going to go through it anyway.

"Don't wear what you wore for me the first time."

She shook her head. No, that delicate bit of whispy white lace and satin was only for him.

"I was thinking the gray one." She didn't have a lot of pretty lingerie. Only a few. But those few pieces were very carefully selected, and she had an eye for beauty.

He nodded. "That is a beautiful one on you. He is going to choke on his own tongue when he sees you."

She laughed. "No, we can't kill him. The new landlord may not have such a deal for us."

He smiled down at her, kissed her, and rolled off. Sitting on the side of the bed he checked the time.

"9:30, baby."

She sighed and got up, pulling the towel off her damp hair and going to get dressed.

At 10, Michael answered the knock on the door, calling out as he reached for the door handle. "Holly!"

He stared in shock at the sight in front of his eyes, instinctively staggering backwards. Holly came to the doorway to the bedroom. Lingering there uncertainly, her cheeks turning pale as she saw what awaited her. Jet black hair dripping down over her slender shoulders, tumbling in a charcoal waterfall down her back. The delicate pale grey lace lingerie draping over the soft curves of her body invitingly, the cover concealing nothing as she clutched at it like a nervous virgin. Her feet in a pair of matching gray heels. Even her nails were done, a creamy pink color. Makeup was light, kept to shimmering pink lipstick and only a touch of eyeshadow.

 

[The Abusive Dominator]

((Slight modification. If you disapprove, I'll change it up.))

Bronson and three of his powerlifter friends were there. One of them was slightly shorter than Bronson, a black man with an afro and was even stockier than him. The other was a very tall white guy with lengthier limbs. The third was heavily tattooed. As Michael opened the door, he was greeted with a grin from Bronson and three other dudes. Disturbingly, the black guy was carrying some rope.

They entered the room...

At the sight of Holly with that beautiful lingerie, the black guy and the tattooed guy hollered. The tall guy locked the door shut behind them.

Bronson approached Michael, his hand holding his shoulder. "Enjoy the show, mister husband."

The black stocky guy handed the rope to Bronson and Bronson approached Holly into the bedroom. Then the black guy and the tattooed guy grabbed Michael, one man on each arm, dragging him to the bedroom...

In the bedroom...

Michael was there being held by two men. Bronson looked at Holly, thoughts racing through his head looking at her entirety. He spoke.

"You are wearing that as if you're expecting romance, Holly. Silly girl."

He approached her, dropping the rope on the mattress first. As he got close he wrapped his left arm around her shoulder... He slid his finger into her panties, feeling up her labia, wondering if she was naturally lubricated there...

 

[Sinshyne]

Holly visibly flinched at the hooting from the men, arms going up and crossing around herself in an instinctive defensive gesture. She stared, bewildered and confused as the men surged into the room, taking instant command. Then Bronson was moving towards her, rope in hand. Later she would swear she had no idea a man as big and powerful as him could move that gracefully - like a panther staking it's dinner.

Her heels clicked on the hardwood bedroom floor and she realized she was moving backwards. Away from the man now stalking her. "We...it was just you..." She whispered, turning terrified eyes beyond him to the men manhandling the stunned Michael. Michael struggled, but there was no escaping the hard hands of those determined men.

The back of her legs hit the bed and she stopped, turning her wide, frightened eyes back to Bronson. The safety that she had relied on from Michael had vanished in mere seconds. The rope thumped onto the mattress but she didn't look at it. Her eyes locked with his as his arm curled around her shoulder. Making her feel impossibly small, impossibly soft, and oh so vulnerable as she was pulled against his overwhelming body.

Her gasp filled the room and Michael cursed.

"What the fuck is this shit? We didn't say any more than you could come. Get them the fuck out of here or this deal is off."

Holly barely noticed her husband's voice as that thick finger curled against the oozing wetness under her panties, and her cheeks flared scarlet as she realized she was wet.

HOW?

She was NOT turned on! She was scared, angry.....and turned on. She prayed silently he wouldn't say anything, wouldn't shame herself and Michael like that...

 

[The Abusive Dominator]

The thick, strong black guy punched Michael on the cheek. It was a hard punch, bruising his face. He spoke.

"Just watch. If you wanna get beaten and bloodied, keep talking. Just enjoy the show."

He looked at Holly. "I haven't had a white girl in years!"

Bronson violently pushed Holly unto the mattress, her body getting pinned down. With great ease, he grabbed a hold of her panties and ripped it apart, perhaps hurting her.

He moved to her bra, but this time more gentle. Though still, with insane grip strength, used both hands to rip it apart from the front and opening them up to reveal her bare breasts. He was in a rush. He moved forward and immediately started sucking on her right nipple. These weren't slow, indulging suckles either. They were downright violent, as if he was a monster consuming her body. And as he did that, with his right hand, he squeezed and tugged at her left breast.

The tall guy spoke. "You gonna tie her down?"

 

[Sinshyne]

Michael shut up. His face white as he stared at his wife, except for the dark spot throbbing on his cheek. Their frightened eyes meeting just before Holly was pushed onto her back. Her eyes imploring him for help, his eyes despairing at his weakness.

She shrieked when the thin silk and lace of her panties shredded under Bronson's hard fingers, pulling hard against her soft tender flesh, hurting her. Hot tears flooded her eyes. Small fists beating on his shoulders as her bra surrendered to his savage yank. Firm tits bounced free, dotted with pierced raspberry nipples against pale flesh. When his mouth fastened on them she yelped. He wasn't just sucking, he was PULLING with his mouth. As if he were trying to swallow her poor nipple. And it was as if there was a thread connecting those nipples to her pussy. Her hips twitching helplessly, back arching. Her flailing fists finally finding satisfying contact, smacking into his left ear.

Michael tried to summon up the courage to fight. He truly did. He didn't want to see his wife raped right in front of his eyes. But there were FOUR very big men in the room. All of them wanting a turn at her pussy. Any resistance from either of them would do nothing but cause them hurt. Tears filled his eyes, and he felt his stomach turn at the shame of his helplessness.

 

[The Abusive Dominator]

Bronson was slightly stunned at the blow to his left ear. He pulled away from sucking her tit and got up, though still on top of her. He mildly chuckled, finding it cute that such a dainty, helpless girl tried to fight back. And this one... This particular thing turned him on the most. Her tears, her feeling of helplessness, of horror at the reality of the situation, only further worsened by the tormented witnessing of her beloved husband. It was the first time Bronson felt such an evil ecstasy.

He grabbed a chunk of her long, black hair and yanked it to a certain direction. He got up from the bed and stood Holly up with him, giving her husband a front view of his own naked wife. Bronson grabbed a hold of Holly's face with the other hand, facing it to Michael.

"Look Holly, Michael is watching. You wouldn't wanna disappoint him would you? You and I gotta give him a great show. Something he'll remember for a long ass time."

He forcefully made out with the girl, tongue invading her wet mouth. Then he pulled out, and again, slamming her unto the soft mattress and resumed sucking on her right nipple, just as violent and uninhibited as before. This time, as he degraded her in that way, he pinned her forearms onto the sides with his firm grip.

 

[Sinshyne]

Holly felt an exultant thrill of victory when he reared up after her punch, blinking down at her. She thought for the briefest half second that she had won. That she had convinced him that she was serious, that she did NOT want to do this, especially not with all those men. But her hope of victory died a swift death when he chuckled.

A sharp squeal of pain tore through the room when he jerked her off the bed by her hair. It felt as if he were ripping her hair right out of her head. She scrambled off the bed - anything to relieve that horrible burning in her scalp. And then found herself facing poor Michael.

Michael had been her first, and he had always been so gentle with her, as if she were a breakable doll. Never once had she felt shame being naked in front of him, his eyes had always made her feel beautiful. Perfect. But Bronson was anything but gentle. Her breasts ACHED from his crude assault. She could steel feel his fingers crushing her soft titmeat. Still felt...SOILED by his touch under Michael's unhappy gaze. Bronson's fingers pinched her jaw, seemingly pressing the tears out of her eyes. Fat salty tears dripping from her wet sleek black lashes, leaving faint dark streaks of mascara on her creamy cheeks. She felt so horribly naked with the men leering at her, Bronson's hands on her. But what made her feel even more naked was the eyes of her husband watching this. Watching as her rape began. Not even bothering to pretend to resist now, though he had sworn to keep her safe. She cringed as Bronson forced his mouth to hers, his lips rough, his tongue demanding. Thrusting into her mouth, her own tongue recoiling on shock.

It was a disgusting kiss, she told herself. Wet, slobbery, too strong, to....to.....to Bronson. Nevermind that her empty cunt flexed on itself, it wasn't from pleasure. It was from disgust.

She yelped when her back hit the mattress again, the breath exploding from her lungs in a grunt as his mouth latched onto her. Her hands flew to beat on his shoulders again, but were easily captured, his large hands pinning her slender arms to the mattress.

"No, Bronson, please! Please, let's talk about this. This isn't what I wanted! It isn't...." Her voice faded as she remembered what he had demanded. A sex slave. Not a couple polite fucks, he had made it very clear what he wanted, she and Michael had just not realized it.

 

[The Abusive Dominator]

The three men who saw the show start started getting excited. The truth was, this wasn't their first time doing this SAVE FOR ONE THING. The women they did it with were willing participants, there to enjoy a fun gangbang, perhaps simply women who wanted to explore something new in the bedroom, or bored wives who wanted to cheat. Those times were always happy and pleasurable, both parties loving it and leaving satisfied.

This particular event was as pleasurable for them, but in a very dark, sinister way. It was a rush...

Bronson kept sucking at Holly's right tit for quite a while. Knowing he couldn't stick to that forever, he moves on. He saved her left boob for the other boys... And really, why not let them have their fun now? He'd be the finisher. The bed was too romantic for that shit. He grabbed her again, dragged her to the floor and FORCEFULLY knelt her down, once again having her face her beloved husband. Bronson motioned to the tall guy. It would be his turn.

The tall guy approached, and as if he already knew what to do, he unzipped his jeans, pulled down his his underwear to reveal a big, throbbing cock. His large body was in the way of the view of her husband. Bronson saw this.

"Wait bro. Let me reposition her."

He dragged her to the side and made her kneel again, this time in full view of Michael. The tall man grabbed Holly by her hair and made her look at himself, his sinister eyes looking at her. "So pretty. Wow..." He was almost stunned by the beauty of this lady whom he was about to conquer. "Open your mouth."

Bronson was looking at Michael. "Does Holly ever suck your cock, Mister Husband?"

 

[Sinshyne]

Thrown on the bed. Jerked off it. Thrown back off it. Jerked back off it.

It was enough to make a poor girl dizzy. Holly tottered at the edge of the bed, disoriented and overwhelmed with shame and humiliation. Her eyes wide and frightened, flying from one leering man to the next, but completely skipping over that of her husband.

She couldn't.

Couldn't bear to look at him. To see him watching her shame.

Then her knees were on the floor. Immediately hurting as his weighty hand pushed her ruthlessly down. She whimpered, cringing. Cowering at his feet as another man came forward. Just the sheer size of the man was intimidating. Bronson was bad enough. This man was taller, and still had a broad deep chest and powerful shoulders. Thank God he stepped between her and Michael. She didn't want Michael to see this....

Her heart sank as Bronson jerked her to the side. FEELING Michael's eyes on her as she knelt there, tears leaking out of those pretty dark eyes. She cringed as the man's hands twisted in her silky black hair, fisting it and yanking her head back. Forcing her to look up at him.

A wave of distortion passed over her. It felt as if she were in a terrible dream. She felt distanced from all of this, as if she were watching another poor woman suffer through this. But then her mouth instinctively, obediently opened and she was jerked back into this reality. Her cheeks hot with humiliation at her instant obedience. Her mouth snapping shut again.

Michael glared back. Oh yes. Holly sucked his cock. A lot. She fucking loved sucking his cock, and he teased her about an oral fetish. But he refused to verbally answer. Just shifted his eyes to his wife just in time to catch her snapping her mouth shut.

He didn't say anything, but he worried. She couldn't resist, or they would hurt her. He hoped she figured that out. The faster they came, the faster this horrible thing would be over.