Page 19 of Wanna Play A Game?

My eyes roll back, but I keep my mouth shut.

“You’re just a needy little whore aren’t you?”

I grit my teeth. Fucker notices everything.

“A greedy whore. Nasty, pretty little thing.” He groans and starts rubbing my clit quickly and with a steady tempo.

It feels so good, and my body wants more. I catch myself before I arch my back. Fucking hell. I think about anything other than this. I think about Ben, and that sobers me a little.

The man slaps my clit, and I cry in surprise. “When I’m playing with this pretty little body, you think about me and me only.”

I hiss, “Fuck you.”

He just laughs and continues his steady tempo, pressing a little harder. My hips want to press into his touch. The man moans, the sound deep and masculine.

He works me expertly, and just when I feel the pleasure building up, he stops. He reaches into my pants, stroking his fingers along my wet pussy.

The man chuckles and dips one thick finger into me.

I stiffen. It feels so foreign, but when he brushes against a spot in me, pleasure rolls through me.

The man pulls his hand out, looking into my eyes as he lifts his mask slightly, and I hear him suck on his finger.

I tense.

He pulls his finger out with a moan. “Whore.”

My mouth drops open for a second before I shoot back at him. “Rapist pig.”

He shrugs. “You have something against pigs?” He straightens and starts collecting his things as if nothing happened. “I have something for you to put on.”

The man moves to the door. “Fight me or don’t, but you’ll be wearing it either way.”

My cheeks are on fire. I can’t believe that just happened. My body is wound tight with unreleased tension.

The man grabs something from outside and tosses it toward me. It’s a grocery bag of…clothes? He removes his chair from the room and then flips open a knife.

I stiffen.

The man holds up his hands as a sign of peace. “Knives are more R–” he pauses, “Knives aren’t my thing; I’m just gonna cut you loose.”

My heart pounds, but he does what he says, cutting my legs and arms free. He steps back. “Put those on. You have five minutes.” Then he leaves, the door slamming after him.

I pull the clothes out. They’re skimpy, that much I can tell. What the hell is this? I dig around more. There’s pom-poms? I gasp. It’s a fucking cheerleader costume, complete with a black and white scrappy top that says ‘daddy’ and long white stockings.

I want to scream. He can’t be real. This can’t be real. What the fuck did I get myself into? Clearly, he’ll enjoy me fighting him on this, so I throw it on. I’d rather deal with the humiliation of the outfit than whatever other punishment he means to give me. There’s tennis shoes in the bottom of the bag that fit me perfectly.

I wonder if the bag can be used to strangle him. I tuck it away in my top, just in case. He didn’t give me a bra,shocker, so my nipples are clearly visible through the white top.

Shadows fall in front of the door right before it opens.

I jump like I’ve been doing something wrong.

“Ready to play, bunny?”

Chapter 9

Miles