Sell My Soul (A Sixty Days Novel Book 1)

by Jade West

  I didn’t want him to know my blowjob skills were total messy novice territory at best, according to the only guy who’d ever experienced them.

  It’d been easy as the time passed to convince myself my first efforts weren’t as bad as he’d made them out to be. But right then, on my knees between wet sand and a stranger’s death grip, I wasn’t nearly so sure.

  The guys on the beach further up from us were still laughing. Happily dicking about like three regular drunks from college on a mid-week night out.

  How ironic that the bystanders I’d figured could be my lifeline in the darkness could well turn out to be my downfall.

  “I want you to present me with a slutty mouthful of the finest college-boy cum,” the beautiful stranger told me, and his voice was laced with such filth it gave me goosebumps under my cardigan. “And you will open wide for my inspection before you swallow your prize.”

  His laugh was cutting. Sadistic. Dark enough for nightmares.

  It made my skin prickle harder that his amusement was all real.

  I dared to turn back to look at him and not the beach randoms; his dark eyes held mine with a ferocity that burned me up.

  Beautiful.

  He really was beautiful.

  I hadn’t been lying when I told him so. I wasn’t even sure I’d been lying when I told him I was desperate for a taste.

  “You want me to go to them?” I said, not liking the break in my voice.

  His fingers gripped harder on my shoulders. They were strong. My mouth felt weirdly needy for more of them; more of his touch.

  “Oh yes, sweet thing. I want you to crawl to them like the horniest little slut they’ve ever seen.” Another low laugh. “Those dumb-drunk brains of theirs won’t believe their luck. Just be sure you crawl your way back to me before you swallow.”

  The pitiful embers of pride in my belly sparked and pained down deep, but I needed this. Phoebe needed this.

  “And if they say no?”

  “They won’t,” he told me, and his confidence in me was disturbingly welcome.

  I moved before my nerves could topple me, daring to stare right up at him as I pulled from his grip and shrugged my cardigan from my shoulders. I handed it up to him and he took it without question, his stare hard back at mine as I tugged the neckline of my dress down low enough to present my modest cleavage. I got to my feet and took a breath, determined I could do this. For the money, not to impress the monster. It was just a couple of drunk guy’s dicks in my mouth. I’d be taking much worse soon enough if my plan came good.

  The monster leant back against one of the pier struts as I took my first steps away. He was lighting up another cigarette as I flashed him a final glance back over my shoulder.

  He’d probably seen this a thousand times before. He’d probably be checking his watch before I was halfway done, filing off my efforts as just another desperate little bitch after his money.

  I shouldn’t care.

  My legs stayed steady enough on the sand as I made my way over to the huddle of guys. My heart was in my throat as I weighed up the point I needed to drop to my knees and make a slut of myself. It came quickly. So damn quickly. Conversation dried up between the three happy drunks as soon as I came into clear view, the streetlights glowing bright enough from the path above that I could see all three pairs of eyes feasting hard.

  The cleavage tug had been a good idea.

  I closed my eyes as I dropped onto all fours on the sand, holding my breath as I fought the urge to bail on this madman’s crazy game.

  Every movement was heavy, nerves rattling loud as I began the crawl. I opened my eyes in time to see one of the guys elbow another with a big fat grin on his drunk mouth.

  “You look a little lost, babycakes,” he blurted out. “Had a few too many tequila slammers?”

  I kept moving. Slowly. Pretending I was on some seedy porno as I wiggled my hips for the benefit of the backstage viewer.

  “Need some help on your feet?” one of the other guys said, and my faith in humanity was restored just a little.

  “She looks like she needs some help alright,” guy three offered right after him, and his tone said it all. My faith in humanity died a death all over again.

  I kept going, eyes flitting between them as I ventured to a spot between the three. They stiffened, all three of them, as I coughed up the words.

  “Please,” I began, sounding like the most pathetic prostitute on the market. “I want to suck you. All of you. I need…”

  “You need to get yourself back to dorms for the night,” the good guy interrupted. “I think it’s past your bedtime.”

  “Shut it, Jake,” the next one blurted. “I don’t think it’s her bedtime quite yet.”

  “Yeah, Jake,” the third voice offered. “I think this little babycake needs a nightcap.”

  I focused my eyes on guy three and my job was already done there. His palm was already on the tent in his pants as he stared at me.

  “Say it again,” he continued. “You want dick, right? Big fat dick for that pretty little mouth of yours? You got it, baby. I got one right here.”

  He looked like a jerk. Sports shirt under an open jacket and a tacky gold chain around his neck. His hand was already in his jogging pants as I edged further his way, and I hoped the monster in the shadows could see how eager this guy was.

  How good I was at following instructions.

  How good I could be for him.

  “Cut it out, Chris,” the good guy muttered. “We should get her back to dorm.”

  My heart dried up in a beat, confidence draining. But not nearly as much as it did when his next words came right after.

  “Paige, right? Psychology? I’ve seen you on campus.”

  Oh fuck.

  It wasn’t humiliation so much as panic.

  Panic at failure. Panic at the promise of a new start slipping on by. Panic at the thought of disappointing the monster who’d seen it all from other girls better than me.

  I didn’t get the chance to answer good guy before Chris shunted to his knees and headed my way.

  “Paige?” he leered. “Pretty name for a pretty little dick slut.”

  Good guy got to his knees right after him, but a flash of my eyes held him back.

  They must have been burning. Hungry. Hungry for dick and the money that would come from it.

  In that moment I knew I’d make the cut. Whatever it took wouldn’t matter. I was here for my sister and a brand new life. It was as simple as that.

  The third guy was the one who called judgement on the dynamic shift. He joined the other two in front of me, and his hand moved to the bulge in his pants to match seedy Chris.

  “Fuck my mouth,” I hissed at them, and this time I didn’t recognise myself. “Please, fuck my mouth.”

  It was Chris I went for first, keeping my posture low as I pressed my open mouth to the fabric at his crotch. His fingers were in my hair in a beat, twisting hard as he fumbled with his waistband.

  “Dirty bitch,” he grunted, “I’ll fuck your fucking mouth alright.”

  The friend to his right shoved his hand down his jeans with equal enthusiasm, but good guy didn’t say a word. I felt shit for him. Sad for him, being friends with such douches as these.

  I wasn’t anywhere near ready for the musk of hairy balls in my face. Wasn’t ready for them to grind at my open mouth as dickhead Chris worked his hard on in his fist.

  “Open wide,” he groaned, and I did. My eyes screwed tight as he jammed his dick in all the way to my tonsils. My cheeks puffed up as I spluttered.

  “We shouldn’t be fucking doing this,” good guy said, but his resolve was weakening. I could hear it.

  “Shut up and grab those fucking tits,” dickhead said, but it wasn’t my tits that felt the warmth of contact.

  It was guy number three that slid his palms up my bare thighs and tugged my skirt up over my ass.

  “Mouth is busy,” he grunted, “pussy will do just fine.”

>   I retched around the dick in my mouth but it jammed in harder. I wasn’t expecting the drunk fingers hooking underneath from behind to rub my pussy through my knickers.

  “Grab her fucking tits, Jake. She fucking wants it,” dickhead said again, and good guy Jake came a little closer.

  My faith in humanity died completely. Buried forever.

  I retched harder on dick and my eyes filled and spilled. The fingers between my legs were rough on my clit and I shouldn’t like it. Shouldn’t want it.

  So why did I spread my thighs that little bit wider and arch my back for more? Why did I whimper through the retches and suck my cheeks into hollows like I was every bit the slut I’d promised to be?

  When good guy Jake finally buckled and slipped his hand into my cleavage, I didn’t know myself.

  I hoped the beautiful monster could see this. Could see me like this.

  I hoped he could see how good I could be if he made me take it.

  The tear of lace panties sounded loud between my legs but I didn’t care.

  The devil on my shoulder was laughing hard; the angel on the other side had long since bailed.

  My mouth was sloppy, but dickhead Chris kept on thrusting, poking my throat like a drunk ape at a zoo disco as his hips rocked back and forth.

  Jake was rougher with my tits now, gripping nice and tight as he tugged at my nipple. I’m sure his spare hand was on his own dick, reservations be fucked.

  “Fuck her, Ryan,” Chris said. “Give the slut’s pussy the pounding she fucking needs.”

  Ryan.

  Chris, Jake and Ryan.

  The trio of gentlemen I’d figured could save a damsel in distress.

  Fingers splayed my pussy lips wide and I felt so exposed in the open air.

  “Fuck yes,” Ryan snarled and I knew it was coming.

  I braced myself, slavering and spluttering as Chris picked up pace with my mouth.

  “She’s so fucking wet for me,” Ryan grunted, and he was telling the truth.

  I was so fucking wet for him. Wet for them.

  But it was more than that.

  I was wet for the man in the shadows and everything he’d do to me.

  Whatever he’d do to me.

  “Fuck her!” Chris snapped, and I felt Ryan’s dick push against my wetness, hot and hard and so fucking ready.

  And then it was gone.

  I heard the thump of a body on the sand before the dick was ripped from my sopping mouth. I coughed up spit and spluttered like a drowning girl, eyes wide through the tears as the huge figure overhead dragged the douche to his feet.

  “Bedtime for dirty little boys,” the beautiful man said.

  Chapter Ten

  Brandon

  Drunks were always easy to take down, but these college pricks were even easier. Three idiot fish in a barrel, too absorbed by their swollen balls to see me coming.

  I slammed the first asshole backwards, wrenching him from the promise of tight pink pussy with a no-nonsense grip on his jugular. The guy with his dick down her throat was in a headlock a heartbeat later, flailing weakly with his sorry man meat stringing spit all the way to her gulping mouth.

  “Bedtime for dirty little boys,” I said and slammed him down onto the rising frame of asshole number three.

  I drove my foot into throat-fucker’s gut before he was down on the floor. The heavy thud was music to my ears.

  Pained grunts.

  Coughing and flailing limbs.

  A pile of useless flesh squirming around the sand.

  I loved dishing out retribution for a crime that shouldn’t have been one. My smile was dark as I took a step back and pulled a fresh cigarette from my pocket.

  “You have thirty seconds to get the fuck off this beach, or I’ll put you to sleep on it,” I said.

  I gave them ten as I lit up and took a drag.

  “Time’s fucking ticking if you want to make it out of here with your balls intact.”

  It was idiot number three who upped and bailed first. The other two weren’t far behind, bandy legs doing little to carry them straight as they retreated.

  Boys.

  Nothing but sad little boys.

  I watched them up and off the beach as I finished up my smoke, only turning my attention behind me once I was done.

  And there she was. My confused little dirty girl. Every bit as shocked as I imagined she would be as she shuffled on her haunches.

  Her pretty doe eyes stared up like I was lord of the underworld. Mine roved over her bare naked tits like she was a sacrificial victim all for me.

  “Bedtime for dirty little girls soon enough,” I told her.

  She flinched as I offered a hand, holding back a long second before she took it.

  Her fingers were tiny but gripped hard. I lifted her with no effort, holding her steady until her shaky legs found purchase. She stood mute as I dipped down to pluck her torn knickers from the sand, saying not a word as I slipped them into my inside pocket.

  “I would’ve done it,” she offered finally, her freshly folded arms doing little to cover her modesty. “I just needed more time.”

  “And done plenty else besides. Instructions are instructions, sweetheart. You need to learn to do as you’re fucking told and nothing more, or face your punishment.”

  “But I–” she began.

  “But I… but I…” I smirked darkly. “Butts are for spanking, not for speaking.”

  “I don’t understand. I was doing it. You said–”

  “I said dicks in mouth. I said suck the cum out of college boy balls and present it for my viewing.”

  Her hair was messier than the elfin halo I’d seen earlier. I smoothed some behind her ear and tugged at the lobe.

  “Good girls listen well and do what they’re told. They follow instructions to the letter.” My eyes were fierce on hers. “I decide which dicks go in which hole, little girl. You’d better remember that.”

  Her shift away from me was clearly instinctive, but it mattered little. My jaw gritted hard regardless.

  “You didn’t make it clear,” she mumbled. “I was doing what I thought you wanted.”

  And just like that I was done.

  “You fucking liked it,” I said. “You were so ready for his cock in your snatch you’d have fucking begged for it.”

  I was anything but gentle as I closed the gap between us and slipped my hand between her legs. Her thighs were cold as they clamped around my fingers.

  And wet.

  Her thighs were so fucking wet.

  For them.

  She was wet for those sad fucking losers, but not for much longer.

  My voice was ice. “That hungry little cunt spreads for nothing but my word from here on in, do you understand me? I said butts are for spanking, but spanking will be the least of your concerns. I’ll tan your ass so hard you’ll fucking scream for mercy.”

  I wasn’t fucking lying.

  I’d seen plenty of her on display while offered up for dicks on the sand. Her flesh was firm. Ripe for my belt. Ripe for a whole world more besides.

  We were stood under the definite glow of street lighting on a wide open beach, but I didn’t give a shit. I didn’t give a shit for anything but claiming that pussy as mine for sixty days of pure fucking sin.

  Her eyes were wide. So fucking wide.

  “Do you understand?” I demanded again. “I speak, you obey. You sign up for time with me and I’ll be a fucking god to you.”

  “I understand,” she whispered finally. “I need this… the money… I promise I’ll do whatever you want…”

  Her and her promises.

  And oh what a promise it was.

  Still, the girl had no real idea at all.

  “I’ll hurt you,” I told her. “I’ll hurt you so fucking bad you’ll beg me to stop. So bad that you’ll change your mind and want out, but there is no out. Not for sixty days. Not until I say you’re done.”

  “I’ll take it,” she insisted, and her eyes wer
e right on mine. “I’ll take it, I swear. Whatever it takes.”

  “Words are cheap.”

  “I swear!”

  Her desperation was palpable, but more than that, it was fucking beautiful.

  I couldn’t resist. Didn’t even try.

  “Spread that tight little cunt and prove it,” I said, and barely recognised my own voice.

  It wasn’t what I’d planned. Not here and now.

  My methods were always calm. Cold. Logical.

  I didn’t plan to shunt her backward up the beach. I didn’t plan to slam her into the back wall so hard it took her breath away.

  My face was in hers, eyes fixed tight, fingers squirming for greater purchase between her slippery thighs as she struggled.

  “I said, spread that tight little cunt for me.”

  “You’re gonna hurt me…” she whispered.

  “Yes,” I said. “I am.”

  My dick twitched as she spread her legs. She opened them wide, offering that bare little cunt like a crown jewel.

  I wasn’t gentle. Not even close. Far more a monster than a messiah.

  Three fingers slammed in deep and stretched her wide. She was tighter than I’d imagined, wetness doing nothing to ease her pained little grunts as I fucked her deep.

  “Take it,” I barked as I positioned my pinkie alongside the other three.

  “Oh, God,” she breathed.

  “That’s my name, sweetheart,” I told her and shoved the fourth finger in all the way.

  Her arms wrapped around my shoulders before she buckled. She took the pounding with nothing but whimpers as I ploughed her to the knuckles.

  “You’ll feel me for days,” I hissed, and I damn well knew she would.

  She cried out, arms still gripping tight as my thumb pressed to her swollen clit. I shouldn’t play nice. Not here and now.

  But I found myself teasing her all the same.

  “Pain doesn’t always hurt, little girl,” I told her and found her groove.

  Her pussy gripped my fingers tight, even though the stretch must have hurt like sin, her hips rocking for more of my thumb as I coaxed.

  She was needy. Whimpering hard as I forced the rhythm.

  “Owww,” she rasped as I circled my wrist.