Free The Collector by Kay Jaybee Page A

would happen .’ She spoke to herself as she was shoved onto the
table. ‘ You can take it .’
‘There’ll be no need for restraints,’ her landlord addressed the
room, ‘as she is not so stupid as to try an escape. However, I like
restraints, so she’s gonna have them anyway.’ Kit shivered as the
men cheered, grabbing her wrists and binding them to the pool table
with rope. Her stomach leapt, was she going to throw? No, she was
damn sure she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.
Her white skirt and knickers were ripped from her. Kit heard
someone gob onto their hands, and felt the bile rise again as the
contents was smeared between her legs. The spit felt warm against
her shaking body. Stubby fingers pushed roughly against her. He
laughed whoever he was. ‘She’s wet, the little bitch is turned on.’ The men roared around her, as zippers unleashed their contents.
When the first cock skewered her cunt she screamed, more in relief
that they’d started than pain. The sooner it began, the sooner it
would end. ‘Silence her!’ the landlord had yelled, as a thick set man
sat across Kit’s chest, his hands kneading her tits whilst he pumped
his dick between her lips, almost crushing the breath from her body. Kit lost count of how many cocks she’d sucked; of how many
men had spunked their load inside her. Life became a whirl of dicks, sweat and grunts until, suddenly, they stopped. The abrupt silence was almost eerie as they quietly stepped away. She could feel her breath thudding in her ears. Her arms were still stretched to capacity, and every inch of her ached from being moulded into any
position they’d desired.
‘More Tequila?’ The landlord dribbled the sharp liquid over her
dry lips. She choked as it slipped down her throat. ‘You are very
wet.’ His hands began to stroke her hammered cunt. ‘What do you
think?’ He turned back to the gang who’d just banged his tenant.
‘Shall we let her come?’
They jeered their consent, and bets were quickly taken as to how
long she’d last. The landlord grasped her arse and hoisted it up as
high as the restraints allowed. Then, with one long slow lick from
his disgusting mouth he sent her shuddering against the table. Kit no
longer cared about their chants of success as she shook with
satisfaction. She’d survived.
He put a plate of cheese on toast in front of her with a large
glass of ice-cold water. She smiled gratefully and took a mouthful. It
was delicious; she felt like she hadn’t eaten for weeks. He watched
her chew in silence. She noticed that he hadn’t made anything for
himself. She couldn’t work out why he was doing this for her. Surely
not guilt?
‘Last night?’ she said as she pushed the crumby plate away. ‘Yes?’
‘Which one were you?’ She looked into her remaining water. ‘It
was a bit of a blur.’
He took her glass away and looked at her dark eyes. ‘Does it
matter?’
‘I think it does.’ She gestured around the room. ‘I wouldn’t have
said that any of the pack of wolves that fell on me last night would
live in anything other than self-inflicted squalor, except Mickey of
course who probably has servants. I’m damn sure they would’ve seen
me in the gutter and left me there. They would probably just have
laughed, not offered me coffee.’
‘You may be right.’ He came around the table and picked up
her left arm and examined her wrists. ‘These are bad, come with me.’ The small bathroom to which he led her had a musty smell, as if
the shower had been used frequently, but no allowance had been
made for the resulting damp air to escape, forcing it to cling to the
grey tiles like perspiration.
He collected a tube of arnica from a high shelf. ‘Put your wrists
out.’ Kit obeyed and felt the warmth of his hands as the cream
soothed her bruises which, on closer examination, seemed to have
been very close to having full blown rope burns appearing on top of
them.
‘You want a shower?’
‘What? Oh, thanks, but I should