“I’m Marcus. She could hear the sharp intakes of breath, the whispered curses, the promises of what they would do to her if given the chance. She took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her ears, and she dialed. “Kayla,” he repeated, his voice a low rumble. But today, something shifted. We’ll get you ready for the show.” He turned, leading her through a door behind the counter, his hand resting on the small of her back, his touch searing her skin. She did, her eyes locked onto his. The voice on the other end, deep and smooth like aged whiskey, replied, “Well, aren’t you a breath of fresh air? She gripped the steering wheel tighter, her knuckles turning white as she imagined herself on those screens, her tiny body engulfed by black flesh, her mouth stretching wide to accommodate a thick, pulsating cock. She pushed open the heavy glass door, a bell chiming above her head. He set her down, his hands roaming her body, his fingers tracing the lace of her thong. Kayla shivered at his touch, her voice barely a whisper. We’ll take real good care of you.”
Kayla’s heart pounded in her chest as she pulled back onto the street, her tires screeching slightly.
