The memories of last night were still hazy. Ms. Jane still couldn’t think clearly. In fragments, images of Bane ramming her flickered through her mind. For each image she saw her heart skipped a beat: the guilt of having Hugo besides her caused that.
“Are you alright?” Hugo asked.
Ms. Jane couldn’t only nod. Her throat was sore, and she was constantly spitting out a salty, slimy substance. What the hell happened last night, she tried had to recall. Hugo’s constant smile was only making things worse. She withdrew to the bedroom: she wanted to be sure nothing had happened when she blacked out. Perhaps, Hugo and Bane had a confrontation when the former returned. Why couldn’t she remember.
On first dial, it couldn’t connect, but on the second a phone started to ring within the confines of the bedroom. Ms. Jane followed the tone and ended in the bathroom, starring back at her was Bane – taking a shit. Jane ran out. What exactly was happening? She tried to figure out. Her loud panic invited Hugo in.
Ms. Jane couldn’t believe her eyes. Her man and her muse before her, and no one was ripping the other’s throat out. In that moment, the piece holding the rest of her memories fell into place.
Bane was banging the hell out of Jane. It didn’t take long for her to become sore. He flipped her over, with her face buried deep into the soft white duvet, and rammed her like the dog he was at that moment. When Hugo came in and saw them he was disappointed, but wouldn’t waste the perfect opportunity to get back at Jane for making a fool of him. He asked Bane if he’d like to tag-team with him against his slutty lover. Bane ever the dog, agreed. Together, they fucked her to total submission, into submission, into a state of unconsciousness.
Now, they wanted more. Hugo was the one clamoring for it. Ms. Jane tried to resist, and he called her a slut. He said, “What are you hiding? We’ve seen all your assets.” He then tore her dress, forced her to the bed, and started having his way. Bane soon joined him. Both men took turns devouring all available entrances. Ms. Jane would black out and wake in many cycles, yet the job lasted for hours. By the time they were done, Ms. Jane was shaking: she had involuntarily overdosed on cum.
Hugo then announced he was done. He couldn’t be associated with a slut who fucked just about any man without knowing his background. It turned out Hugo and Bane were best-friends who made a bet to see if Ms. Jane would ever fall for for Bane. It was a prank gone wrong, but Hugo felt to an extent he had salvaged his reputation. As for Jane, she knew she was finished. Horrible as the act was, she enjoyed it. It was a long term fantasy of hers, and now it had become reality. Whenever she recovered, she’d decide if to press charges or return for more.