A Bona Fide Gold Digger (19 page)

B
utt naked and quivering in fear, Milan hoisted herself atop the desk. The wood felt cold beneath her exposed buttocks. “Should I lie on my stomach?” she asked, assuming she was going to get a spanking.

“No. I want you on your back.”

Milan did as she was told. No longer concerned about emitting an unpleasant odor, she would have spread her legs in a hot second if he wanted her to. She hoped fucking her forcibly was Gerard’s idea of punishment. But she knew that was only wishful thinking. Gerard would not give her the thing she craved most, not this early in their relationship.

“Close your eyes,” he said in a stern whisper.

She closed her eyes. She heard a desk drawer sliding open. Her eyelids fluttered in nervous expectation. What was he taking out of the drawer? A dildo? She preferred getting a flesh and blood dick, but wasn’t opposed to being penetrated by a sex toy.

Then again, maybe he had a paddle hidden in the desk. If he intended to spank her, why had he instructed her to lie on her back? Waves of anticipation mingled with strong sexual desire caused her nipples to stiffen. Her entire body ached with desire.

Without warning, her nipples exploded in pain. She gasped and shrieked in horror. Something horribly tight had been clamped on them. Reflexively, her eyelids flew open. “Keep your eyes closed,” Gerard commanded. Instantly, Milan squeezed her tear-moistened eyes shut, but not before Gerard placed a blindfold over them. Being deprived of sight was scary. And stimulating.

Something cold—a metallic necklace-like object—dangled between her breasts. She shivered and shook so badly, the necklace began to clink, creating a faint rustling sound. Through the haze of pain, Milan began to understand what was happening. Gerard had fastened pincers to her nipples. She’d seen the torturous devices in sex stores, in catalogs, on websites, but she had never imagined being tormented with the creepy-looking twin clamps that were connected by a metal link chain.

“Is your pussy wet, Milan?” Gerard asked seductively.

“Yes,” she murmured.

“Wrong answer,” he said and began to roughly twist the pincers, turning them back and forth until Milan uttered an agonized whine. Amazingly, her clit swelled in response to the intensified nipple pain. She clenched her fist and bit on her lip to stifle a moan as her pussy began to tighten with yearning hunger. Never in her life had she experienced a sensation that hurt so good.

“Is your pussy still wet?”

“No!” she quickly shouted, not wanting the pain to escalate.

“I’ll have to check. Dishonesty is unacceptable, so I hope you’re not lying. Scoot down to the edge of the desk,” he ordered. “Put your feet up and open your legs.”

Terrified and aroused at the same time, she slowly wriggled toward Gerard. As if she were getting a gynecological exam, she lay with her butt at the edge of the desk, her thighs spread wide, her pussy exposed.

Tenderly, Gerard separated her pussy lips as if they were the petals of a rare and delicate flower. Milan moaned softly. Having such a sensitive area touched by Gerard’s magnificent hands was sheer bliss. It took every ounce of restraint not to hump his fingers and plead for any type of penetration—a fingertip, a knuckle, the side of his hand. As if annoyed by her uncontrolled moan, Gerard roughly pulled her labia apart, stretching her pussy lips and forcing her hole fully open. He inserted a finger and Milan shuddered. Her vaginal muscles clenched around his long finger, and her hips began to move.

He rotated his finger. “Does it feel good?” Gerard asked, inspecting her pussy.

She stopped moving. Unsure of how to answer, she muttered an incoherent guttural sound. With his face only inches away from her pussy, Milan was losing her mind hoping beyond hope that his lips and tongue would soon connect with her tingling pussy.

“What did you say? I didn’t understand your response.” Gerard’s breath taunted her, tickled her pussy, made her pant and hump without shame.

“Yes, it feels good, sir,” she admitted.

He withdrew his finger. “You lied to me.”

“What?” she asked, her mind in turmoil.

“Your pussy is wet,” he said accusingly and then wiped his sticky finger across one and then the other of her clamped tender nipples. The creak of the desk drawer opening put a chill down Milan’s spine. What object of torture would Gerard use on her now? Could she endure more pain?

Her rambling thoughts were interrupted by the sensation of something cold and hard being stuffed into her vagina. It didn’t have the shape or feel of a dildo. Whatever it was, part of it protruded from her vagina. It was something totally unfamiliar.

Milan jerked as if she’d been given an electrical shock at the unmistakable sound and smell of a match being struck.
Oh my God, what did he plant in my pussy—a stick of dynamite?

“Do you trust me, Milan?” Gerard’s voice held a hypnotic quality that eased her confused mind, and seemed capable of putting her in an erotic trance.

She believed that whatever was in her pussy was going to hurt her. Badly. But it wouldn’t kill or permanently maim her. “Yes, I trust you sir,” she responded, her voice filled with devotion.

The heat from the lighted match warmed her open thighs as Gerard taunted her with the small flame. Then the warmth traveled to her vagina. She inhaled sharply. “Do you still trust me?”

“Yes, sir,” she said with an uncertain tremble in her voice.

“Don’t move,” he warned and lit another match. She wanted to jump off the desk and run, but she obeyed him and lay perfectly still. Without burning her flesh, Gerard deftly singed the pubic hairs that surrounded her labia. The crackle and smell of burning hair was horrifying, but she endured the punishment without flinching.

When he finished searing her pubic hair, he lit yet another match. Had her bravery incited him to take the fire play to another level? Maybe she should have whimpered and moaned. “Sir?” Her voice cracked. “I’m afraid, sir.”

“As I feared, you don’t trust me. Okay, Milan…I’ll stop.” He pulled the object out of her vagina.

Still blindfolded, Milan had no idea what he’d removed from her pussy, but she knew she wanted him to replace it. Not because it felt good, it didn’t. The object felt foreign, cold, and uncomfortable. But being with him, even under the most extremely painful circumstances, was better than being away from him.

“I’m sorry, sir. I was scared for just a moment. But I do trust you. Honestly. I do.”

He took in her words, but didn’t speak. Then, he eased the object back inside her and lit a match. Milan heard a sizzling sound. Tiny sparks flickered against her inner thighs. In an instant, she realized that a candle had been inserted inside her vagina. She also became aware that the candle was lit. The knowledge that hot melted wax would soon spill on her exposed labia made her eyes pool with tears that dampened the blindfold.

An apprehensive moan issued from her lips. Gerard rose from his seated position and stood over her. His towering presence filled her with excitement and fear.

His full lips touched her aching clamped nipple. He kissed the distended, inflamed tit, soothed it with the tip of his tongue. Milan shivered in delight. Gerard nibbled at the swollen nipple before shocking her by biting deeply into the irritated flesh. At that exact moment, hot wax dribbled down between her legs, scorching her thighs and pussy lips.

Milan yelled. The sound was a mixture of passion and pain.

Her pussy made a squishy sound when he extracted the thick candle. Her labia, stiff and heavy from the dried candle wax, were stuck together. Gerard used his fingers to pry them apart; the pain was indescribable.

Milan grimaced from unqualified pain while Gerard peeled the dried wax from her enflamed pussy lips. “I don’t like hurting you, Milan,” he told her in a somber tone. “I hope I won’t have to punish you like this anytime soon.”

“You won’t, sir. I promise.”

“Don’t you think you owe me an apology?”

Milan bobbed her head up and down enthusiastically. “I’m sorry for making you hurt me, sir.” Unable to control her emotions, she began to sob. “Forgive me. Please.”

“I forgive you,” he said and then removed the blindfold.

She blinked as her vision adjusted to the bright room. Milan remained in position as Gerard returned to his seat. He softly touched her open slit. “Your vagina is beet red. Is it still sore?”

It hurt like hell but she didn’t know whether to lie or tell him the truth. She opted for the truth. “It hurts very badly, sir, but I deserved it,” she said. “I appreciate the extra training time you gave me,” she added, pouring on the praise.

Milan noticed that Gerard’s pattern of breathing changed slightly. He must have liked her responses. Without preamble, he dipped his middle finger into her open slit. With his moistened finger, he gently massaged her reddened labia, circling the tender lips until they glistened with her sticky wetness.

“Oh,” she murmured.

“Does your sore pussy feel better?”

“Much better,” she replied breathily.

He stuck his finger in deeper, rotating it as he extracted more thick, syrupy juice. Milan couldn’t help herself. She pushed down on his middle digit, humping it like it was the penis she yearned for. Gerard’s hand went suddenly still and then he eased his finger out of Milan’s hot hole.
Oh no! What did I do?
Her heart raced with fear. She couldn’t endure any more pain.

“Are you trying to steal an orgasm? Are you trying to cum without permission?” His tone suggested more punishment was imminent. “Your thieving cunt is undeserving of my finger.”

“Yes,” she confessed. “I was trying to cum without your permission. My pussy’s a disgusting thief. A kleptomaniac. I try, but I can’t control it.” Again, she heard Gerard’s breathing quicken. Her self-deprecating words obviously pleased him. She smiled to herself, delighted that she was slowly learning the way to his heart.

“I’m touched by your honesty but I can’t put my finger inside a conniving cunt.”

“I understand,” she said sadly.

“Stay in position, but don’t touch yourself,” Gerard warned her and left her alone in the basement, lying naked atop his desk.

Needing desperately to be fucked with something, Milan moaned in frustration, but she obeyed Gerard and kept her hands to herself. A few minutes later, Gerard returned. He presented a large unripe banana. She longed to have his finger back inside her, but resolved to make the best out of the situation.

Sitting at his desk, Gerard took his time peeling the banana. When he’d pulled the banana skin halfway down, he inserted the rigid fruit into her throbbing vagina. Milan’s starved pussy tried to gobble the fruit up. The soft moist banana skin soothed her injured vaginal lips and teased the sensitive hood of her clit while the phallic-shaped meat of the fruit provided unmeasured pleasure.

Slowly, Gerard eased the banana in and out, then increased the speed. In less than five minutes, Milan tensed, and her eyes became glazed. She made gurgling sounds as if choking from passion as the familiar tingling surged through her body. The building climax had a dizzying effect; blood rushed to her head. Her body shook and her pelvis rotated at a frenzied pace as she strained to reach an orgasm. Finally, her knees locked together and Milan writhed in mad ecstasy as she climaxed. Her juices gushed and flooded out over the banana, making it soggy and limp.

On the way home, Milan drove with her thighs separated. Her pussy hurt. So did her tits. She drew a deep, satisfying breath. The physical discomfort was a warm reminder that Gerard had taken the time out of his busy day to properly train her. Being humiliated was kinky and had aroused her. But being disciplined with nipple clamps and hot wax had taken her to new heights of ecstasy. Just thinking about what Gerard had done to her created an excitement that was evident by the creamy moistness that formed between her open legs. Mere humiliation and verbal abuse, though sexually stimulating, would never get her off the way the erotic merging of pain with pleasure had.

She pondered her new sexual identity. Could a person suddenly exhibit submission traits or had she always needed a firm hand to guide her? Gerard had said he didn’t like to use corporal punishment, but he’d revealed another part of her subconscious desires that she hadn’t known existed. With growing realization that she’d stepped way outside the parameters of what was considered normal, Milan knew that she would eagerly follow Gerard’s lead down every dark corridor that lurked inside his mind.

R
uth Henry flitted past Milan wearing a smug smile. Milan figured the bookworm nurse was gloating because she’d managed to fill her voracious reading appetite without disturbance while Milan was out of the house.

“Did you give Mr. Brockington his soothing?” Milan barked as she pulled off her coat.

“Actually, no,” the nurse said casually. “We were waiting for you to get home before I start the procedure.”

Milan scowled. “What are you talking about? What procedure?”

Ruth Henry’s face flushed with excitement. “I think Mr. Brockington should explain. He asked me to send you to his suite the moment you got home.”

Milan sucked her teeth. She was getting quite sick of being summoned to Noah’s room. She wanted to go straight to her own bedroom, have Irma bring her a meal, and spend the remainder of the day fantasizing about Gerard. But if she expected to stay in Noah’s good graces, it would behoove her to go upstairs and see what he wanted.

Wearing a navy dressing gown and sitting up straight in the lush velvet chair, Noah Brockington looked amazingly healthy. It was a frightening sight. Had that smirking nurse been slipping him some new wonder drug? Milan wanted to ask him outright if he still expected to expire on schedule as promised. She’d been crossing off the weeks and according to her calculations, he had less than four months to live.

“I believe I owe you an apology, my dear,” Noah said.

“Uh, you don’t owe me an apology,” Milan stammered. “I know you want to make sure your friends are impressed at our wedding.”

“My dear, you misunderstand,” Noah said with a chuckle. “I want to apologize for suggesting that you see a specialist.”

Still confused, Milan squinted and nodded dumbly.

“As you know, I don’t trust doctors and it would be the height of hypocrisy to insist that you put up with the poking and prodding of a physician when I wouldn’t allow it myself.”

Taken aback by Noah’s sudden change of heart, Milan was momentarily speechless. Then, relieved that Noah had come to his senses, she smiled—a big cheesy grin. She’d never intended to go through with the pregnancy, she didn’t even like entertaining the thought of having to bear his child. He’d finally come to the realization that someone as jacked-up as he would unquestionably produce a horribly deformed and monstrous baby.

“So, after putting our heads together, Ruth and I concluded—”

Ruth! When did he start calling his nurse by her first name? And what in God’s name had the two creeps concluded?
Milan braced herself for the distasteful information.

“We thought it best if you underwent at-home insemination. We considered freezing my ejaculation after she provides her daily soothing, but Ruth says fresh semen is more effective.”

I’m throwing up in my mouth!
Milan’s hand reflexively covered her lips. Dry heaving, her body spastically jerked forward.

Noah ignored Milan’s theatrical reaction. “Ruth’s quite competent and will oversee the procedure. Considering my short life expectancy, I decided to give myself the gift of life before I pass on,” Noah said with a chuckle.

She’d always known Noah was insane, but the degree of his insanity had gone undetected. It was time to get the hell out of his house. Milan knew she should be in her room quickly packing, but morbid curiosity kept her rooted in place. “The gift of life?” she asked meekly.

“Yes, instead of having you inseminated after I’ve gone on to the great unknown, I’ve decided to get started right away. I’ll feel as though my time on earth has been worthwhile if you conceive my heir while I’m still alive.”

Milan shook her head. “That’s not stipulated in the contract, Noah. You can’t suddenly—”

“My dear,” he said in a tolerant tone, “I’ve added an addendum to the contract. It’s in the top desk drawer.” He waved a hand in the direction of the desk she’d never seen him utilize.

Walking as if in a trance, Milan went to the desk and retrieved the addendum. As she hastily eyed the legalese, Noah babbled excitedly. “Now, in order to determine when you’re ovulating, Ruth will need a urine specimen and the exact date of your last menstrual cycle. But for back-up insurance, just in case you get the dates mixed up, I don’t want to miss an opportunity. So we’ll be getting started today.”

Today!
Milan gaped at Noah and then her shocked eyes went back to the first page of the addendum. It appeared that Noah was willing to pay ten thousand dollars for the first insemination, five thousand for each successive treatment, and an additional seventy thousand dollars when she successfully conceived. He promised to alter his will, granting her a five-hundred-thousand-dollar bonus after she gave birth to a healthy child.

With her jaw dropped and hysteria mounting, Milan was too freaked out to even string together a slew of expletives that would adequately express her rage and horror. She flipped to the last page that suggested that the original contract, which entitled her to most of Noah’s estate, would be broken if she didn’t agree to the new stipulation. Damn, she should have consulted an attorney before signing the original contract.

Noah gripped his walker and lifted himself out of the chair. “I’ll want you to sign the contract right away,” he said. Milan felt helpless to refuse the offer. In a trancelike state, she signed her name.

“Put the document back in the desk drawer. I’ll have a copy for you in a few days,” he said. Giddy with excitement, Noah gave Milan a smile and a flirtatious wink, but as far as Milan was concerned his smile looked like a mocking smirk and the wink resembled an unappealing facial tic.

As if all that wasn’t bad enough, he then did something completely outlandish and totally out of character. Holding tight to the handles of his walker, he leered at Milan. As if he were a male exotic dancer, he gyrated and then did a double groin thrust for emphasis. “Tell Ruth to come at once. Tell her I’m feeling rather perky and would appreciate a soothing.”

A look of disgust crossed Milan’s face. She whirled around, hurrying away to pass the distasteful news on to the nurse.

Noah cleared his throat. “My dear—”

She stopped. She held her breath but didn’t turn around. She didn’t dare. Who knew how many other depraved tidbits were stockpiled in his arsenal, ready to be hurled in her direction?

“After you’ve delivered my message, please wait in your bedroom. I’ll buzz you when Ruth is ready to begin the procedure.”

She’d considered him too sickly and confused to take his vile and indecent proposal seriously. She thought it would be easy to outsmart a dying man. But she’d underestimated Noah. Now Milan was sick, sick to her stomach because she’d been too lazy to wade through the legal jargon of the original contract and too cheap to use her savings to consult an attorney. It was pure idiocy not to have an attorney go over the document word for word. Now it was too late. She was in over her head. Noah had her backed into a corner and she was too weary and unprepared to come out swinging.

Angered by the looming defeat, Milan flung herself on the bed. She lay flat on her back, listening to her heart pound. How long would it be before Noah’s hoarse voice crackled over the intercom? She cast an anxious glance at the Waterford crystal clock on her nightstand. Like a time bomb, each tick of the dainty clock infused Milan with terror. How long would it take for Noah and the nurse to get their freak on? Not long, she conceded sadly. Noah was a quick-shooter; it would be only a matter of minutes before she was summoned.

Had she known the situation would take such a terrible turn, she would have kept Greer around. The greedy traveling nurse would never agree to Noah’s scheme. Why would someone plotting on their own fair share of his estate willingly assist him in his quest to produce an heir? Hell, for the right price, Greer probably would have helped Milan scam Noah. But Ruth Henry couldn’t be bought. The nutty nurse considered herself a straight arrow and wouldn’t dream of duping her employer.

What am I going to do?
Agonizing over her predicament and racking her brain to come up with a resolution to the problem, Milan sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed the back of her neck.

Figuring it was time to cut her losses and hightail it out of Noah’s home, Milan didn’t make a sound. Mentally packing her bags, her eyes bounced around the large room, trying to estimate how quickly she could gather her belongings and get out the front door without having to look at Noah’s shriveled-up face.

Two raps on her bedroom door startled her so badly, she let out a yelp. “My dear, is everything all right?”

Incredibly, Noah was on the other side of her bedroom door. Astonished that he’d actually hobbled down the long corridor, Milan stared at the door in mute horror for several moments. The man was unbelievably determined.

With nowhere to run or hide, she unlocked and opened the door. Bent over his walker, Noah wore a warm expression. “You were taken off guard, my dear,” he said kindly. “I hope this monetary offer will reduce your apprehension.” Holding her with a steely gaze, he offered the cash.

“It’s all there. Ten thousand dollars. Take it,” he encouraged, his eyes narrowing, challenging her.

Reluctantly, she glanced at the money. Seduced by the sight of the bulky wad of cold hard cash, she gave a soft sigh of discomfort.

Sensing that he needed to close the deal quickly, Noah pressed the wad against her balled fist. “Come, my dear. Ruth needs to get you prepped.”

Prepped! What the hell does that involve?
While momentarily distracted by the puzzling thought, her fist unclenched. Seizing the opportunity, Noah slipped the bundle of cash inside her slightly cupped hand. “There’s much more where that came from,” he said, his voice quiet and compelling. The feel and smell of the money overpowered her, rendering her helpless to refuse.

With amazing agility, Noah hurriedly made his way down the lengthy corridor. The rolling walker creaked in protest at the increased speed. It was a travesty. She didn’t feel at all like herself. She felt like a player in a dark comedy as she followed the squealing sound of the sick man’s walker. Assuring herself that she was of sound mind and that she was making the right decision, she thought of Gerard. If she was going to pull Gerard out of Ming’s business venture, she’d need all the capital she could get her hands on.

Other than having to endure a terrible bout of nausea, there was nothing else to worry about. She was on the pill and Noah was sterile. He had to be. His worthless sperm deposit could not possibly be a threat to her. However, the thought of having his repulsive sperm deposited inside her body was truly repulsive and made her flesh crawl. But if she were to ever get rid of Ming and live with Gerard full time, she’d need lots of money. Having Noah’s money was essential.
I can bear this. I must bear this,
she told herself as she rounded the corner and headed toward the master bedroom suite.