Page 60 of The Secret Job: Into the Depths of Depravity
“I had a glimpse today,” I mutter, remembering the way he allowed me to take control and play with his knife on his body. “Surely if he can do it with me, he can do it with other women, at least other playmates.”
“You’re special though, Roxy. The whole time we’ve been at the Clarendon we haven’t met a single playmate as open and accepting as you. Most would have used their safe words waking up tied down, let alone everything else you’ve allowed for us to do with your body. Women, for very obvious reasons, don’t feel very safe around Jacob and his knife for both his personality and of course his knife. What they don’t know is, Jacob is a brilliant skilled knifeman, he has multiple knives. Ones sharp enough for shredding clothes and others semi blunt for playing on your skin like his flip knife, he knows the risk. He’d never hurt anyone on purpose.”
“He can with his words,” I reply, still bitter from how deeply his hateful words had cut.
“Yeah, they’re his shield, his armour. I don’t know why. He’s resentful that no women have taken the time to get to know the true him. Sure they like his good looks but in the end, they don’t want to know him when he pulls out his knife and asks to play with their bodies in the way he has with you.”
“It’s kind of hard when he can be quite cruel and scary at the same time. He sure knows how to push someone away almost from the start.”
“It’s like some deranged test.”
“You got the deranged part right. I think he needs to speak to someone about it.”
“Ha,” Angus actually laughs at my suggestion. “Over his dead body.”
“Men,” I huff.
“You have been good for him, maybe you’re all the therapy he needs.”
“Shit, I think he needs more than me. I don’t know what good I can do, I’m only here a few more days.”
“Maybe he has a whole bunch of stuff he needs to get out of his system, much like me and father. And that could help him too.”
“Yeah maybe,” I reply but I don’t sound or feel convinced. “I’ll do whatever it takes to help though Angus, especially if I have to kiss the frog from hell to find the prince of submission again.”
I feel his chest rumble as he laughs at that analogy. Feeling the conversation trail off, I don’t want to push or make Angus tell me things he shouldn’t. I want to talk about my life and my family but I also don’t think it’s the time or the place, so we fall quiet as the sky turns dark and I feel his steady breathing on my head for once. Angus has not nodded off before and the thoughts of sleeping curled up with this gentle young man has me relaxing into him as I let sleep claim me too after a day of three men and their desires.
29
Iawake to the words, “Open your mouth.” Confusion muddles my sleepy brain as I try and put into context the voice that just spoke the words. Am I dreaming? The voice sounds familiar, but I can’t place why until my eyes fly open in the darkness and I realise I’m in the attic room of the job I’m here for. Obediently I open my mouth realising it can only be one person—Mateo. Then sit up straight in bed because I can’t swallow anything lying down. I feel his body heat as he positions himself between my legs on the bed, high on his knees.
“There’s my good girl. I’ve missed you,” I hear his silky voice shiver down my spine. I can’t see anything as my eyes adjust to the light, but he has no trouble finding my waiting mouth, poking the head of his cock easily in and unleashing a waterfall of warm liquid down the back of my throat. I gurgle and almost choke as the flow gushes in my mouth and I struggle to gulp and breathe and focus on what I am meant to be drinking having just woken up. He doesn’t give me time to think or question, he just continues pissing, holding my head in place as I hear his groan of satisfaction.This is what I am being paid for,I mutter the mantra in my head as the bitter metallic tastestronger than yesterday fills my tastebuds and I try hard to fight the automatic reaction of recoiling and puking.
The flow eases and the final spurts jerk in my mouth until I’m left with only Mateo’s semi hard cock resting on my tongue. I ease the suction, but he doesn’t withdraw. Instead he starts to push further into my throat as he hardens and fills my mouth. Further and further he pushes down my throat, nudging my tonsils at the back before withdrawing slightly. I see where this is going and reach up to cup his balls in my hand as he grips my head harsher and thrusts in and out, over and over again until drool begins to hang down from my chin. Every time he hits directly at the back of my throat, I feel the threat of choking, then my throat closes around him and I heave, fighting an almost losing battle of keeping the liquid I just drank down.
My eyes are rivers and my nose a flowing mess as he fucks into my mouth with a growing ferocity, edging closer and closer to his peak. I rub my thumb along his taint edging closer to his arsehole when he erupts inside my mouth, holding himself buried deep as I heave and fight my reflex to expel the thick warm liquid that is flowing down the back of my throat.
Unable to breathe through my nose or my mouth, I begin to panic until he slowly withdraws and I’m a spluttering mess in his wake. Liquid flows from my eyes, nose and mouth. I must look like a sorrowful mess as I gulp in air and try to calm my stomach.
Mateo must sense my growing state of panic and discomfort as reaches out to hold me against this naked body, shushing me and stroking my hair as I shake and heave with tears free flowing from my eyes. Eventually, his offered comfort begins to tame my frayed nerves and I start to breathe more steadily as I wipe my nose with the back of my hand.
“Sweet little rabbit, you are my wildest dreams rolled into one magnificent creature. You take everything I give you, you make my balls ache and my imagination a reality.”
The words warm me, and I feel a sense of pride that I haven’t had to use my safe word, I have genuinely been ok with everything these men have desired to do to me, no matter how uncomfortable it is in the moment. I relax into his hold, and he lowers onto the bed and drags me onto his lap, cradling me like a small child who just had a panic attack and maybe I did. He strokes my arm and holds my head against his chest as I calm more and feel safe. I listen to his heartbeat and my own heart and breathing climatise back to normality. We sit and just be for a bit longer until Mateo says, “Thank you for doing that for me. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do that. Do you think you’re up to another little game of hide and seek? I have two needy sons who are waiting to find you.”
I nod my head and then use my raspy voice which breaks as I reply, “Yes.” My throat is rough from the thrashing it just took.
“Ok little rabbit, go run and hide.”
I shuffle from his lap and stand, unsteady from a headrush. Mateo holds out his arms to help balance me before I race to the toilet, pee and then make a run for the door. This time I’m not going to take my chances with the bedrooms, I race down the stairs, down the hallway and down the second flight of stairs to the ground floor. I make quick work in the dim morning light and head towards the library. I choose a large armchair and crouch behind it, heaving ragged breaths and straining to hear over the thumping rhythm of my erratic heartbeat. I can’t hear a single thing above the noise pounding in my head, so I focus on slowing my breathing into long deep breaths which begins to slow my heart.
Crouching begins to feel like torture, so I opt to lean my back against the chair and fold my knees into my chest trying to make myself as small as possible. Then I sit and wait, straining to hear in the noisy quietness. Is it right that silence can feel loud? This big house is creepy and the fact that I’m hiding in a home library with a ladder against the wall makesme wonder just how rich this family is, aside from the fact they can afford to offer a million dollars for me.
Was that a noise? A floorboard creak? A footstep? Or my imagination. I huddle in a tight ball and wonder if I should turn onto my knees to peek around the chair in case I need to run but just as that is a fleeting thought in my mind, the chair creaks and two hands lean over the top and grab my shoulders freezing me into place like a deer in headlights. “Gotcha,” I hear Angus’ voice practically sing over the sound of my thumping heartbeat. In one swift move, he jumps from the chair and is hauling me up to face him. “Good morning, Roxy,” he says sweetly, “Oh what fun we are going to have today!”
Relief that it is Angus who found me washes over me and I smile back gladly. He pulls me into a tight hug, only wearing navy pj bottoms. “Let’s eat breakfast and get ready,” he says and I can hear the smile in his voice.
Pulling away to look up at him in the early morning light I ask, “What do you have planned for me today?”
