and burning until she thought she’d go crazy. She couldn’t feed on their lust, couldn’t look at brains to see who was there even if she didn’t go in, and couldn’t even try to telepath with James or Fabio. Were they home? Was this James, or was it someone else he’d brought in to fuck her? She had no way of knowing.
Whoever was in her pussy came first, and Eunice — because he’d told her he was going to fuck her throat — came less than a minute later.
The buzzing at her head stopped. The hood came off. The earplugs went away, and the cotton. She still couldn’t smell enough to be certain of who’d fucked her pussy, and she was aimed the wrong direction to see that part of the room.
She heard the sounds of them putting things away, and then Eunice finally said, “I won, motherfucker.”
“So you did,” James answered. “Fuck but she was tight. Do I want to see what you did to her cunt?”
“Probably not. She doesn’t get to see, either. Up to you whether to leave the ring gag in or not, but if she bites you when we’ve told her she can’t, it means she goes back to the coterie house and becomes low man on the totem pole there while she’s retrained to control herself.”
“None of us wants to see that happen, but she won’t bite me if I tell her not to. It can come out.”
“She has a lot of damage to heal, and she won’t get blood until she rises tomorrow. Aaron knows she won’t be in tonight. Later in the week, she’ll spend the day at Drake, so she can rise and get right to work, to make up for the night she was out.”
“Kelsey,” Eunice said, his voice shifting from casual to he-who-must-be-obeyed, “when you can give me eight American exclamations I approve of, we’ll remove the rope. Eight Americanisms to use in place of fuck me dead, and your arms will be connected to thigh cuffs rather than behind your back, and your ankles will be connected to each other, but you’ll be more comfortable.”
He removed the ring gag, and Kelsey ran her tongue around her mouth twice before she answered. Her mouth was too dry to speak, but she didn’t dare hesitate, so she pushed through and forced the words out.
“First is fuck! Second is shit. Third is fuckin A. Fourth is jeezus. Fifth is fuck me. Sixth is what the everloving fuck? Seventh is...” She went through her mind, thinking back to the lessons with her speech coach. “Hell’s bells. Eighth is holy smokes, to be used when it isn’t appropriate to curse, Sir, or holy fuck, when it is.”
“Bonus points for the last overrides the fact you used variations of fuck in four of them.”
They put cuffs around her thighs first, and around each ankle as the rope was taken off. Her ankles were slowly moved down, so her hips and knees had time to adjust, and then were connected together. Her wrists were also moved down slowly before being clipped to her thighs.
She thought this meant her punishment was finished, but when she felt Eunice pick her up, she knew that wasn’t the case. James would be handling her aftercare. She didn’t need to go into their heads to see that.
The sounds of her daytime resting place door opening, and then the icy cold of the granite under her, told her she was going to be stored away for a while to think about her actions. Because of the way the inside lock had to be manipulated, there was no way to open it with her hands bound as they were.
“Two hours, Kelsey, and then Collosa will retrieve you. He’ll have thirty minutes to prepare you to go out, and then you’re going to go for a drive in a real car. It’s time you graduated beyond video games.”
22
The convention wasn’t actually in progress yet, but Fabio was on site to keep the people setting it up safe, and to make sure nothing was hidden away that shouldn’t be. The vendors had to be out by nine, and he and the other Drake guards had everything locked up twenty minutes later. Two men would stay with it around the clock, but he wasn’t one of them.
Eunice was eating pork rinds, drinking beer, and playing the latest Far Cry when Fabio arrived home. Collosa and Kelsey were gone, as was Collosa’s truck. It was what