116

Before I went upstairs to dress, I said, "I hate and detest you with a passion you'll never understand."

"You say that now, but I'm only unlocking the person trapped inside."

"What? The slut? The whore? That person?"

"I would say the results speak for themselves. You've responded very well to your training. You're fucking like someone who's been sexually active for nine years, instead of nine months."

"As if you've given me any chance in the matter."

"You decided at the very beginning that sucking my cock was better than stopping your wedding and explaining what happened was an accident. It would seem you were born for this. At every point, you've chosen the response of a whore rather than a loving and devoted wife. What would you think?"

"If I'd had a moment to decide, I would have chosen otherwise. You gave me like thirty seconds. I know I made a mistake."

"When you have no time to decide is when you follow your deepest and most basic impulses. You chose cock sucking. Given one cock sucking incident, you chose fucking other men rather than telling your husband and throwing yourself on his mercy. Even if your husband left you after you said anything, you wouldn't be at risk of exposure for all you've done since to all those people you don't even know. Now, I would agree you have little choice left, because you've always chosen the path of the slut, and your upbringing says you can't expose your true nature. I say you've followed your true nature, what my Father would call your True Will."

Shit! Was he right? Was I a natural whore? I imagined acting as I did to save my relationship to Tanner, the first man I ever loved. That if I somehow managed to keep everything from Tanner, I could go back to the way things were. Did every choice I ever make reveal a true nature, a fucking, debauched, cunt licking, cock sucking, orgiastic inner whore?

No. No. No. I hated this. I didn't want this. I detested everything about my life and I detested Oliver even more, but, Oh, God, if he was right. Why had I made all the choices I made? Granted, he'd given me no fucking time for any rational choices, but was a choice made in haste indicative of my true nature? If I was what he said, wouldn't I like this more, not just having orgasms, but wanting everything he made me do and not dreading it with every fiber of my being.

"I refuse to believe that," I said. But still worried he might be right.

"Actions speak for themselves," Oliver replied calmly.

I departed, no words left.

As soon as I was in the car, I started crying. I called Tiffany. She heard me sobbing and without another word being said, told me she'd be right over.

"Give me an hour," I said. "I'm leaving Oliver's now. Let me get home, and take another shower. I'd like to get a little more presentable than I am now."

"Okay. Please don't do anything rash."

"What could be more rash than all I've done." I hung up.

At home, I took the hottest shower I could stand after using a douches to cleanse my sex and bottom. I gargled with mouthwash for five minutes, but even leaving a minty taste, I still remembered the taste of his cock after it was in my ass. I put on a t-shirt and shorts and opened a bottle of wine, waiting for Tiffany to show. I'd stopped crying, but tears lurked in my eyes, waiting to spill over. Tiffany knocked on the door and I let her in and clasped her in a close embrace, my tears escaping again. Tiffany hugged me back, patting my back, letting me get it out. When my crying was reduced to a few gasping sobs and hiccups, Tiffany led me to the couch and had me sit down.

"Rough day?" Tiffany asked, while she poured us both glasses of wine from the open bottle on the coffee table.

She handed me my glass and sat down beside me with her hand on my knee.

"The worst. I thought nothing would be worse than last weekend, but today was much worse."

"How bad?"

"Ass to Mouth bad," I said, crying again.

"Oh, Brooke, I'm so sorry. I can't tell you how sorry I feel for you."

She pulled me against her and I cried into her shoulder, taking comfort from her arms. It took awhile before I could speak again. I continued lying against her shoulder and whispered. Tiffany was stroking my hair.

"At least he gave me three enemas first. I kept throwing up at the beginning, like I did at your apartment. He'd just clean himself and everything else off and start again. He kept going until I didn't respond anymore. I had a ring gag in my mouth so I couldn't close my mouth. After he was able to cum in my mouth without my gagging anymore, he took the ring gag out and said we'd have to do it again, without the gag. He said if I bit his dick off, I'd die of starvation down in his soundproof basement. It would take weeks or months before anyone found me. I was chained down there. So, he did it again, and I sucked his cock. In my ass, then in my mouth; back to my ass, back to my mouth. He finally orgasmed in my ass and I sucked him clean."

"From now on," Tiffany said, "if I don't hear from you every two days, I'll attempt to reach you. If you don't respond, I'll assume Oliver has you and it's the first place I'll look. If you need to bite his cock off, I'll find you. You won't starve to death."

I gave a small unhappy laugh. "I'm not always at his place. Last week he had me at some BDSM club he helped found. I was treated like a sex slave for two days, available to whoever wanted me. I was punished for cumming without permission or for any reason at all. I lost track of how many times I was fucked. I was trained to be a better cunt licker. I was swatted every time I lost concentration licking a Mistress's cunt while I was fucked with a strap-on. I thought the experience of last weekend was the worst thing I'd ever done until today."

"Do you always have your phone with you?"

"It's normally in my car. I'm not allowed to keep it on me when I'm with Oliver."

"Did you drive to this club?"

"I was taken there. We went in Oliver's car."

"It would give me a starting place, even if you're not with your phone. Give my your Apple ID and password, Oliver's address and the name of the detective agency you worked with."

"Why?" I said.

"With your Apple ID and password, I can track you on 'Find my iPhone'. It gives me a starting point to find you. I can check Oliver's address, and I can contact your detective agency if I need more resources. I'm not going to let you die if you need to fight back. No matter what happens. No matter what information is exposed, I will always be your friend. I think most of us would. Don't sell your parents short either. They might be disappointed in the choices you were forced to make, but they'll stand by you, no matter what."

I hugged her again, then got a pencil and paper and wrote everything down. Tiffany held up the paper. "This information will go into a password protected portion of my phone. I won't give it to anyone without your permission, not even Tanner. If I need it, I'll use it, but not for anything but to protect you. I'm with you, Brooke, all the way."

"Thank you, Tiffany."

My phone went off, the text message warning. I ignored it.

"What if it's Tanner?" Tiffany said.

"It's the middle of the night in Osaka. We have something planned for about ten tonight my time. It's probably Oliver sending me a video of my latest performance. I plan on deleting it, I'm so disgusted."

"What if it's not?" Tiffany said.

Okay. I glanced at my phone. It was Jolene.

"It's one of the detectives at the agency I hired. She wants me to call her when I have a minute."

"Call her now to see what she wants and invite her here. I'd like to speak to her."

I called Jolene on speaker and asked her what she needed.

"I can't stop thinking about you, Brooke, and what you're going through. It's absolutely horrible, and I was thinking," Jolene said, "that you only asked us to check the connections between Oliver and your bridesmaids or other female friends, because you believed one of them was helping Oliver. You never asked us to check any possible connections between Oliver and male members of the wedding party."

"None of them were at the Bachelorette Party," I replied. "Why would I?"

"Because maybe it was somebody else who got one of your girlfriends to do this; not Oliver. Some cut out to distance Oliver from the women, make it harder to figure out who did it."

I looked at Tiffany. She nodded.

"Jolene, my name is Tiffany Swenson, Brooke's Maid of Honor, and I think you made a very good point. Do you have time to come to Brooke's place right now?"

"Brooke?" Jolene asked. "Is this something you want?"

"Please, Jolene. I've decided to trust Tiffany and she knows everything you know right now, and maybe stuff you don't. We can discuss this more thoroughly if you come over."

"I'll be there in an hour."