"I'll get the son of a bitch," she muttered under her breath. She struggled wildly, to free herself from her rope bonds, but that only chafed her wrists and ankles. She sighed deeply and cursed Bruce again. "You fucker, you asshole. Some day. Some day I will have my revenge. And when I do, you will be sorry that you ever laid eyes on me. Some day you will pay for what you have done to me. You will pay… and so will Miss Diane DeMarrow."
Bruce pulled himself up from the floor. He untied the ropes that held her in bondage. Then he pushed her roughly to her knees. Pressing his knee under her chin, he slowly raised her head until her eyes looked up into his.
"Here's a special treat for you, sweet-cunt," he said cruelly. "Yeah, an extra-special treat for our lady of the sweet cunt here." At that moment, he grabbed his thick, hot cock and rubbed the drooling prick-head all over her face. First he pressed his cock into one of her eyes. She blinked as he deposited a slimy gob of jism on her eyelid. Next, he slid his prick down to her nose. He shoved his drooling cock-tip into her nostril. Then he squeezed his prick so that a big drop of cum squirted out of his cock and into her nose.
He stepped back and looked at her. He laughed heartily as he saw the wretchedly degraded girl kneeling before him.
"Boy, do you ever look great," he teased. "Honey, you are a sight for sore eyes. Christ, I'm telling you. You ought to be in movies." Then he broke up laughing.
She looked awful. She felt awful. And she hated Bruce for having done this to her, hating him for making fun of her this way. What kind of man was he? She thought. Never had she met anyone as mean and brutal as Bruce. Until now, Melissa simply would not have believed that men like Bruce existed.
"You are really a pretty little piece of ass," said Bruce sarcastically. "Yeah," he said, nodding his head and looking her up and down as if he were inspecting a slab of meat. "You are a nice little cunt. But, you really ought to be more concerned about your appearance, sweet-cunt. You look like shit." He laughed loud and long.
She pouted and cried. She felt terrible. She was totally humiliated. She knew that she looked an absolute mess, kneeling on the dirty tack room floor. Her knees were chafed and sore. One of her eyes kept blinking as Bruce's cum dried and hardened on her eyelid. A stream of sticky sperm streaked out of her nostril and crept down her cheek in a slow-moving ovule. Her stomach felt queasy.
Bruce shoved his cock back into his trousers, zipped his fly and turned to leave. As he reached the door, he glanced back at Melissa who was kneeling on the floor and sobbing.
"Correct me if I'm mistaken, sweet-cunt," Bruce taunted, "but didn't Diane ring for you a while ago?" He laughed loudly as he strolled out, slamming the door shut behind him.
"Oh, my God!" Melissa gasped. "I'd better get my ass up there fast or I'm really gonna catch hell. God, how I hate them both!" she screamed. Then, regaining her composure, she quickly wiped the cum from her face and dashed through the door.
Melissa pushed her long brown hair out of her eyes as she ran upstairs. She entered Diane DeMarrow's spacious bedroom, knelt before the imperious blonde beauty and reverently kissed the tips of her red patent leather high heel shoes. Every time she was forced to perform this debasing ritual, Melissa was repulsed. But Diane demanded that Melissa kiss her feet several times a day. Melissa had no choice but to obey or be punished. Even so, Melissa thought, it could be worse. After all, Diane DeMarrow was one very beautiful woman, even if she were a haughty, wicked bitch!
Diane DeMarrow was a voluptuous blonde. Her piercing eyes, dark blue and large, stared forth from under clear stenciled, clean arching brows. Her rose cheeks, high boned and prominent, led to a cruel mouth, thin and wet lipped and strong. It was a face which advertised more than a trace of worldly wisdom, the result of a hard younger life which she would never forget – nor forgive. This effect was heightened by the delicate nose with its thin flaring nostrils, and by the general air of sensual wildness which seemed to characterize not only the face, but the creature herself.
Melissa looked up sheepishly at her mistress and humbly muttered, "You rang for me?"
"Yes, now that you mention it, I guess I did ring for you," Diane replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She stretched back in her leather chair as though preparing to relax. Then, all of a sudden, she kicked Melissa in the face, imbedding the point of her shoe in the girl's cheek.
"You fucking slut!" the blonde beauty rasped as she reached clown and slapped her servant hard in the face. "I rang for you fifteen minutes ago. In fact," she added with another slap to the side of the girl's face, "I rang for you twice. Where the fuck have you been, anyway?" Diane DeMarrow's voice was loud and evil sounding. The stunning bitch was cruel and sadistic, over spilling with hate – sinister, malignant, and diabolical. She was a gorgeous, voluptuous, indescribably sexy blonde bitch, with lots of money and a most evil disposition. Diane treated Melissa like a slave, and there was nothing that the wretched big brunette could do about it.
"Well, where the fuck have you been, Melissa? Speak up girl. Answer me at once or you'll taste my whip!"
Melissa could tell from the nasty look in Diane's eyes that she meant serious business. "I… I was in the tack room, cleaning your riding boots," she replied meekly.
"Oh, and I suppose it took you twenty minutes to put my boots down and come upstairs to answer my call?" Diane said sarcastically.
"Well… Bruce came into the tack room just as you rang for me and…"
"Go on bitch! Let's hear the whole explanation."
"Well, I begged him to let me come to serve you but… but Bruce made me suck his cock. He heard you ring for me and he knew that you were waiting for me. But he wouldn't let me go. He told me that I couldn't leave the tack room until I had sucked him oft I begged him to let me go, but he insisted that I suck his prick first. So I sucked his cock, and then he raped me. And then I rushed upstairs to serve you. Please forgive me." Melissa broke down in tears, hoping that Diane would take pity on her.
But the cruel blonde simply laughed heartily. "That's just like Bruce," she said. "He is a horny fucking stud. And, sometimes, I think he is just as mean as me. I guess that's why we get along so well together," she mused. Looking down at the slight framed pretty brunette who knelt abjectly at her feet, Diane giggled, curled her lips in a lewd manner and spoke. "Get up and pour me a glass of brandy, you little whore. The world isn't going to come to an end just because Bruce decided to rape your worthless fucking ass. And bring me a cigarette too."
As Melissa went about her tasks, she thought of her unfortunate situation. For the past two years she had served Diane DeMarrow. At first, it had not really been too bad. She had merely done various chores around Diane's modest little house. But that was before Diane had inherited a huge fortune and a spacious, secluded Long Island estate from her wealthy step-father.
Diane's step-father was a first-class bastard, a real prick. Diane hated the way he took advantage of her when she was a teenager. When she was only fifteen years old, her step-father had raped her brutally. And, right under her mother's nose, the cruel old man continued to fuck Diane until his death six months ago. Diane smiled wickedly when she thought of her step-father's heart attack, his third, the heart attack that, killed him. He had died while fucking Diane. Poetic justice, she thought. Her mother had died only two weeks earlier. So the bastard's entire estate was left to Diane. All two hundred acres, with a huge mansion, and stables, and servants, and more money and stocks and bonds than Diane had ever dreamed of having.