Slavers Inc.

Buried beneath his bulk, she suffered in silence. The sharp pain of entry was quickly erased by the need to breathe under his suffocating weight as he humped like a man possessed. His broomstick swept her interior clean with no thought for her needs. Blank eyed, he stared into the duvet with The Girl filling his mind and Clara’s sex his senses. Quickly at the gallop, his teeth ground, his buttocks clenched and his balls gave vent to their contents.
As the emission spattered her womb Clara gasped, inhaling air which stood her in good stead as Gostelo collapsed into spent torpor.

Clara awoke as usual next morning, hung over with a blend of frustration and depression. Having exercised, cleansed and pampered her body, she sat on the bed to lacquer her toe-nails. Leg bent, the heel tucked into her bottom, she watched her fingers laying on the clear fluid while her mind idled in boredom mode.
Her life had become an unfulfilled possibility. Always dressed up but with never a place to go.
Merrick was a lost cause, his attention wholly on work. While distractions such as her contrived seduction of Alec Gostelo served only to fuel her increasing desperation and accelerate the decline of what little self-respect she retained. Being fucked by Boney was a debasing experience. Which, after all, was what she sought. He took her. No May I’s. No.I’ll be gentle with you’s. Not so much as a: Was it good for you, too? afterwards. Just the careless intrusion as he ransacked her treasure chest with the greed of a tax collector.
Not so! She amended the judgement instantly. Gostelo’s was the covetousness of the pirate. His swash buckled her under as bucks were meant to service does. The act had a purity devoid of the tax collector’s peevish mindedness. But even so, the sum of her life was still a zero. An open mouth forming a silent scream in uncaring limbo.
The video had been the last straw. An insult driven home with unerring accuracy. When she thought of all the ploys she had used to nudge Merrick into masterful jealousy or anger - and the abject failure of every one - she could scream. Yet there he’d sat, turned on by a cheap porno flick that wasn’t a patch on what she would have done for him. The knickers were no surprise, for he’d always liked the smell of her sex. When he’d liked her, anyway. Though she decided that he’d need to look long and hard to find a pair in future. And as for the vibrator! She looked at her long, slender fingers and felt the bile rise from her stomach et his preference for a chunk of humming plastic.