Girl Trade - full length erotic adventure novel (Xcite Erotic Romance Novels) Read Free Page A

was shaking and trembling, my feet scraping at the sand, my hands behind my back trying in vain to shield those fierce relentless blows.
    He spanked my bottom for all he was worth. He spanked me until sweat poured down my back and between my breasts that hung heavily below me. He spanked me until the pain was so unbearable, so shocking, so beyond my imagination or vocabulary that the pain almost ceased and it felt under the hot sun that I was being sacrificed in some strange ritual.
    Now that I was able to tolerate the pain, I began to get the feeling that this beating would last for ever, through the whole of eternity, that he was going to spank me until the flesh peeled from my skin, that I as a naked white girl on this tiny nothing of an island was being punished for all the centuries of abuse and torment suffered by all the peoples on the forgotten continent through the long history of forever. Whatever was wrong with the world, it was my fault. I had to pay.
    The power in his blows diminished and he only stopped beating me when he was too tired to continue. He forced me down on my knees.
    ‘Please. Please. Please. Please. Please,’ I cried.
    I looked up at him. ‘Please don’t hurt me,’ I said, and he responded by taking a grip of the back of my hair.
    With his free hand, he pulled his cock from his tunic and pushed at my closed mouth. He spoke now for the first time. He said something in a deep, gruff, bullying voice and it didn’t matter that I didn’t know what it was he had said. I was on my knees, naked, beaten, the man’s cock pressing against my lips and nose. It smelled like an exotic food from some far away place, ripe and fruity. The head was mauve and bulbous with a gaping eye like a piercing.
    It occurred to me that I had never been so close to a man’s cock before, not like this, in broad daylight, in the sweltering midday sun. With my hands tied by the thong, I felt like an actress in a porn film. With my burning bottom and tear-streaked face, nothing seemed real. I was afraid, I was terrified, but I felt protected, too, by this sense of unreality.
    He squeezed my cheeks and I opened my mouth to allow this exotic fruit to slide between my open lips. He took a tighter grip on the back of my hair, pushing and pulling my head, jerking his cock further and further down into my gullet. I felt as if I was going to gag, and almost did gag, but I breathed through my nose, opened my mouth wider and sucked harder and harder, wrapping the length of his cock in my tongue, giving all of my effort just to get it over with. I closed my eyes. The sun beat down on my back. My bottom was stinging.
    Three days ago I was working in the PR department at a publishing house in the centre of London. I caught the 14 bus along the Fulham Road to go to work every morning. I had a drink in the West End before making plans to go out for the evening. I wore a denim skirt an inch or so too short and red heels with black tights, blouses that revealed a coy few inches of my breasts, short jackets nipped in at the waist. Bobby, the boyfriend, was a celebrity journalist on one of the evening papers. We went to bars, clubs, movies, gigs. We had friends, lives, futures, uncertain yet predictable, understood, safe. I was living the London life and was bored to distraction. I felt like a clone among clones. A sheep among sheep. A party girl among party girls. I had wanted so desperately to do something different and would never have imagined in a million years being naked on my knees in an unnamed place with a stranger’s cock down my throat.
    Be careful for what you wish for, my mother liked to say, you might just get it.
    With my eyes closed, with that hard cylinder of hot flesh slipping in and out of my throat, I almost forgot my disgust, my fear. It’s like gardening, I mused. Backbreaking and tedious when you begin, but the physical action of pulling weeds and trimming bushes becomes an end in itself, an ephemeral pleasure. It