The Love Of Money - S01 E190

Story 3 months ago

The Love Of Money - S01 E190

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 190

I enveloped her in my arms and pulled her close, cradling her head as I stroked her hair. I didn't respond when I felt her shoulders shake. I just kissed the top of her head and let her get it all out. She and Natashya had gone through a lot, and I cared for them deeply. There, in the low light of my living room, I promised myself that neither of them would be hurt like that again. If anyone could make that happen, it was me.

Eventually, she settled down, and we spent the next twenty minutes talking about the logistics of her move-in and about how surprised Mom and Dad would be when they suddenly noticed that their mortgage had been paid. I wanted to do more, but we both agreed that my family was made up of proud people... it would take time to get to that point. Once we were done, we stood up and hugged once more, a long, tight embrace that seemed to last minutes. Then she gave me a goodnight kiss on the cheek and headed back to Natashya, leaving me alone in the living room.

I considered going to bed. I was emotionally drained from my conversation with Emily and mentally exhausted from my time with Chandler, Helen, and Erin. At the same time, I was strangely horny, and I knew Helen had something special planned. In fact, I had a pretty good idea of what was waiting for me. I'd left her with a task, and Helen was nothing if not determined and resourceful. I had a feeling Bobbi was with her.

That left my stomach twisting in knots.

After being captured and abused for three days, I was questioning the justification I had for what I'd done to Bobbi. Sure, there was a difference Bobbi was a poor wretch of a woman who had wasted her life thus far, being a total bitch to everyone around her. She leeched off people and only saw success by allying herself with similar creatures. As far as I knew, she had very few redeemable traits. I, on the other hand, felt like I was a pretty decent guy. I didn't think I would win a Nobel Peace Prize, but I had my good moments. I was a relatively good person who had been captured by bad people. Bobbi wasn't, and that felt justified.

Besides the differences in our situation, I really liked having Bobbi

like this. She was scorching hot, and something about seeing her

submit to me really got my juices pumping. Seeing the fury in her eyes as we hate-fucked... I didn't want to give that up.

Still... Bobbi was just as human as I was, and I wasn't sure I had a right to do whatever I wanted to her, even if I had the means and motive.

I reached the door of the room Helen had told me to enter and

knocked on it just like she'd asked. A few moments passed, and the door opened a fraction. Helen peered at me through the opening and said, "Marcus? Are you alone?"

"It's just me," replied, my stomach doing somersaults. I opened my mouth to tell her that maybe we should do this another night, but the door shut before I could say anything.

Then it opened, and I heard Helen's muted words. "Come in."

I stood in the doorway, trying to comprehend what I was looking at

The room was dimly lit by a couple of standing lamps in the far corners. The walls had been lined with a black material that seemed to absorb some of the ambient noise as well as the light. Along one wall hung a rack with various implements: crops, whips, rope, harnesses, and gags. A shelf held several types of oils, dildos, vibrators, and anal plugs. A pulley system hung from the ceiling with a pair of fleece-lined cuffs dangling from a rope threaded through the wheel.

Several eyelets protruded from the walls and floor, and more ropes and chains hung from them. In one corner stood a structure that resembled a sawhorse, and a swing hung from the ceiling next to it. Several other interesting pieces took up most of the room, but in the center stood the main attraction.

Bobbi was on her knees, straddling a sybian. Her hands were bound by cuffs, and chains connected them to eyelets on the floor in front of her while a leash had been linked to the floor behind her. The combination prevented her from doing anything other than sit firmly on the vibrating saddle as she maintained a rigid posture. She was nude except for the collar around her throat that said "Marcus" Pet' and a red ball gag shoved in her mouth. Makeup had been applied, giving her cheeks a light blush, and mascara left tracks down her face, implying that the tears responsible for them were relatively old.

I couldn't look away from the helpless young woman strapped to the floor for my amusement as I stepped into the room, and she returned that look with...

I expected hatred, but instead, I saw hope.

Helen shut the door behind me, and I looked over my shoulder at her. She leaned against it and ran her hands up and down the mysterious fabric as she gave me a truly evil smile. Her hair was in a golden bun, and a black choker wrapped around her fair throat.

She wore a black leather corset that molded an already sinful body into further perfection. Matching leather high-heeled boots stopped mid-thigh and added several extra inches to her height. Her lips were painted dark red, and she applied dark eyeliner to magnify her ice-blue eyes.

"Before anything else, you should know that this room is entirely soundproof," she purred.

I looked back down at Bobbi and stared into eyes more desperate than I'd ever seen in a person. A reflection from one of the lamps caught my eye, and I realized that her pale inner thighs were absolutely coated in her own arousal. The sybian was drenched Fuck... I could even see dark stains on the floor around her. I closed my eyes to shut out the image of absolute debauchery in front of me, but all I could see when I shut my eyes was Bobbi desperately looking up at me.

God, if you're up there, please make me a good man.

"It's been a little more than two hours," Helen whispered into my ear, "and the poor darling still hasn't cum."

I felt Helen's hands slip over my shoulders and slide down my chest, dark red fingernails gently running up and down my chest before unfastening the top button of my shirt. I felt her soft lips graze the back of my neck, and I shivered. My cock was already at complete attention. Bobbi whimpered through the gag loud enough to be heard over the low hum of the Sybian, a long, mournful, pleading note.

But not yet.