messier than he had the night before but he did. He stretched in the chair and then stood.
He looked down at Rose. She was wide awake, still in shock because of what he’d done to her the night before, and she just stared at him. The smell of urine coming from the bed was overpowering and revolting.
For some reason, he looked away. Rose wasn’t sure if he was ashamed of what he’d done, or just disgusted at the sight of her. She’d been lying in her own urine for the entire night, completely tied up. His jizz had slowly dripped down off her leg during the night and added itself to the stains on the bedsheets.
Rose felt that she was so disgusting that not even Fat Boy could look at her. She wondered if she’d ever be able to recover from this feeling. Would she ever be able to feel clean and beautiful again? Would she ever be able to get the stink of urine and semen from her body? Would she ever again feel the way she had before she’d been taken?
She didn’t know.
“Untie me,” she said to Fat Boy.
She surprised herself. She hadn’t known she was able to speak. Fat Boy looked at her as if determining whether or not to do as she’d asked. Surely he couldn’t just leave her like this. He may be a fully patched member of the DRMC but he wasn’t the chapter president and he couldn’t do something like this to club property and expect to get away with it. She wasn’t his property, she was the club’s property. It was his job to guard her not cover her in semen and urine and leave her ruined so that no other man would want to touch her.
Before he could finish making up his mind, there was a knock at the door.
Fat Boy looked at his watch. He seemed worried.
“Who is it?” he called out.
“It’s Patrice. I’m taking over guard duty. Why is the door locked?”
“Just wait,” Fat Boy said. “I’m coming now.”
Fat Boy looked around the room. He seemed panicked. That confirmed Rose’s suspicion. He wasn’t supposed to do this to her. If Patrice told Serge how he’d found her, covered in piss and jizz, Fat Boy would get in deep trouble. At least that was what Rose hoped.
Fat Boy went into the washroom and came back with a towel. Rose thought he was going to wipe her legs and pussy in some desperate attempt to remove the evidence of what he’d been doing to her. But he didn’t. He knew he was out of time, his number was up. He left the towel by the television and got a strange grin on his face.
“Patrice!” Rose called out.
“Shut up,” Fat Boy growled.
Patrice knocked on the door again. “What’s going on in there? Fat Boy, open the door.”
Fat Boy looked down at Rose with a fierce look on his face.
“You just shut the fuck up, bitch. If you don’t want to see your little boyfriend out there get hurt.”
What did he mean? Was he threatening Patrice? He must really not have wanted anyone to see what he’d done. Rose was scared. She didn’t want to see anything bad happen to Patrice.
“Just untie me,” she said to Fat Boy. “I’ll go clean up.”
It was the best way she could help diffuse the situation.
“Fat Boy,” Patrice called from outside the door. “Open up right now or I’m calling Serge.”
“Just wait,” Fat Boy said.
He began opening the cords around Rose’s wrists.
“Hurry,” she said.
She had a reason of her own for wanting him to hurry. She didn’t want Patrice to see her like this. She felt disgusting, like a pig, and she was sure that Patrice would never see her the same way again if he saw her looking like this. He’d be repulsed by her.
“What the hell’s going on in there?” Patrice said.
Rose heard him bang his shoulder against the door. He was trying to burst in.
“I told you to fucking wait a minute,” Fat Boy said and continued to fumble with the cords on Rose’s wrists.
Rose looked up at him desperately.
“This is no good,” he said. “I can’t fucking untie them.”
He got up from the bed and went over to his
He looked down at Rose. She was wide awake, still in shock because of what he’d done to her the night before, and she just stared at him. The smell of urine coming from the bed was overpowering and revolting.
For some reason, he looked away. Rose wasn’t sure if he was ashamed of what he’d done, or just disgusted at the sight of her. She’d been lying in her own urine for the entire night, completely tied up. His jizz had slowly dripped down off her leg during the night and added itself to the stains on the bedsheets.
Rose felt that she was so disgusting that not even Fat Boy could look at her. She wondered if she’d ever be able to recover from this feeling. Would she ever be able to feel clean and beautiful again? Would she ever be able to get the stink of urine and semen from her body? Would she ever again feel the way she had before she’d been taken?
She didn’t know.
“Untie me,” she said to Fat Boy.
She surprised herself. She hadn’t known she was able to speak. Fat Boy looked at her as if determining whether or not to do as she’d asked. Surely he couldn’t just leave her like this. He may be a fully patched member of the DRMC but he wasn’t the chapter president and he couldn’t do something like this to club property and expect to get away with it. She wasn’t his property, she was the club’s property. It was his job to guard her not cover her in semen and urine and leave her ruined so that no other man would want to touch her.
Before he could finish making up his mind, there was a knock at the door.
Fat Boy looked at his watch. He seemed worried.
“Who is it?” he called out.
“It’s Patrice. I’m taking over guard duty. Why is the door locked?”
“Just wait,” Fat Boy said. “I’m coming now.”
Fat Boy looked around the room. He seemed panicked. That confirmed Rose’s suspicion. He wasn’t supposed to do this to her. If Patrice told Serge how he’d found her, covered in piss and jizz, Fat Boy would get in deep trouble. At least that was what Rose hoped.
Fat Boy went into the washroom and came back with a towel. Rose thought he was going to wipe her legs and pussy in some desperate attempt to remove the evidence of what he’d been doing to her. But he didn’t. He knew he was out of time, his number was up. He left the towel by the television and got a strange grin on his face.
“Patrice!” Rose called out.
“Shut up,” Fat Boy growled.
Patrice knocked on the door again. “What’s going on in there? Fat Boy, open the door.”
Fat Boy looked down at Rose with a fierce look on his face.
“You just shut the fuck up, bitch. If you don’t want to see your little boyfriend out there get hurt.”
What did he mean? Was he threatening Patrice? He must really not have wanted anyone to see what he’d done. Rose was scared. She didn’t want to see anything bad happen to Patrice.
“Just untie me,” she said to Fat Boy. “I’ll go clean up.”
It was the best way she could help diffuse the situation.
“Fat Boy,” Patrice called from outside the door. “Open up right now or I’m calling Serge.”
“Just wait,” Fat Boy said.
He began opening the cords around Rose’s wrists.
“Hurry,” she said.
She had a reason of her own for wanting him to hurry. She didn’t want Patrice to see her like this. She felt disgusting, like a pig, and she was sure that Patrice would never see her the same way again if he saw her looking like this. He’d be repulsed by her.
“What the hell’s going on in there?” Patrice said.
Rose heard him bang his shoulder against the door. He was trying to burst in.
“I told you to fucking wait a minute,” Fat Boy said and continued to fumble with the cords on Rose’s wrists.
Rose looked up at him desperately.
“This is no good,” he said. “I can’t fucking untie them.”
He got up from the bed and went over to his
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