Demo got on his knees, lifted her onto his thick cock, stretching her hole to its limits. She screamed, a mix of pleasure and pain, her body trembling as she was filled from both ends.
The sensation was overwhelming, her nerves on fire, every inch of her throbbing with sensation. She was being claimed, dominated, and she loved every second of it.
While Harry squeezed himself through to get an opportunity to fuck her ass, his entry was slow but relentless; it was so erotic, she climaxed again.
When Rhoda opened her eyes, the ceiling above her swam in a dull, antiseptic blur. The air smelled of bleach and medicine. A faint beeping came from somewhere near her right ear.
She turned her head slowly, and pain shot through every joint. A drip line ran into the back of her hand. Her throat was dry.
Her mind scrambled, clawing through fragments of memory — the hotel, the laughter, the smell of smoke and wine — Harry… Demo… Kes. Why was she in a hospital?
“Oh God,” she whispered. “What happened?”
A nurse entered quietly, adjusted the drip, and avoided her gaze.
“Where am I?” Rhoda asked.
“You’re safe, you are in a hospital, ma”, the nurse said softly. Just before she would ask another question, the short nurse added, “Just res,t ma, the doctor will be here soon.” Then she was gone.
Moments later, the door opened again. Heavy steps. A familiar figure.
Her breath caught. Fred.
Frank’s elder brother stood there, his doctor’s coat unbuttoned, his face unreadable. He looked at her like a man holding two truths at once — professional duty and personal disgust.
“Fred…” Her voice broke. “What happened to me?”
He didn’t answer at first. He crossed to the window, looked out, then back at her. “I should be the one asking,” he said quietly. “What were you doing with those men, Rhoda?”
The words hit like a blade. Her stomach turned cold. Tears burned her eyes. She tried to speak, but her voice caught in her throat. Fred sighed and rubbed his forehead.
“The hotel manager called the hospital. Said there was an emergency — a woman found unconscious in a suite. When I got there with my team…” He looked at her, the disappointment raw now.
“I didn’t expect to see my brother’s fiancée lying there.”
Rhoda broke down. The sobs came in waves. “I didn’t mean— I wasn’t—”
He raised a hand. “Enough. You’ve been unconscious for two days.”
Rhoda leaned up, “What?” surprise shown on her face. “How?”
“It’s the third day today. You’re very lucky to be alive.”
“What have I done?” Her lip trembled. “Does Frank know?”
Fred shook his head. “I told him it was a car accident. I covered for you. Don’t make me regret it.”
He turned to leave. “Rest. Get your strength back.”
The door closed, leaving her alone with the quiet hum of machines and her own guilt.
A week later, Rhoda sat in her small apartment. The air smelled of regret. She hadn’t been sleeping much. Every time her phone buzzed, her stomach clenched, afraid the truth had finally reached Frank.
The huge amount of money she had received from the act sat untouched in her account. She had decided to focus on healing before settling on how to use it.
She had explained to Frank that she needed space for a quick recovery, and he had respected her wishes. He had been incredibly supportive, constantly checking in on her well-being.
After all his brother had told him, she was involved in an accident.
Rhoda had not stopped wondering why it had to be Fred’s hospital. What she didn’t understand was why Fred had covered up for her like that; did he like her so much for his brother that he had decided to hide the truth about what really happened from his brother? Deep down, she knew it was only a matter of time before Fred revealed her secret to his brother.
Rhoda thought about several things, which even made her think Jessica had set her up. Maybe Jessica knew about the proposal for the three men to fuck her.
She had tried to reach Jessica since then, but her bestie had been unreachable. Probably still in the village, taking care of her sick mother. What if her mother were not sick, and it had been a way to get her to do the dirty stuff?
But then she knew Jessica too well; Jess was wilder than she was and would never let an opportunity like that slip by if she was available. She could even take on five men as long as she got her money.
She had struggled to recall the events of that day with the three men, but each attempt felt like her mind was being stretched too thin. The only memory that surfaced was of them fucking her, then nothing else until she regained consciousness in the hospital. Rhoda knew she had passed out and that the events of that afternoon would continue to be a mystery.
That afternoon, the doorbell rang. It was Fred, Frank’s older brother. She hesitated for a couple of seconds; her mind raced.
She’d been dodging him since her hospital discharge. Facing him felt impossible. He had called her twice to see how she was doing.
He stood in the doorway, tall and guarded. She invited him in. “Can I get you a drink?” her voice trembling.
“No,” he said. “I won’t stay long.”
He sat, elbows on his knees. “Tell me everything. From the beginning.”
Rhoda swallowed hard. If she really wanted him to hide her dirty secret, she would have to tell him everything about herself and what had happened that day.
She told Fred about Jessica’s call that afternoon, the men, the offer, and the blankness that followed. Her voice cracked in places; she couldn’t meet his eyes. When she finished, Fred sat back, silent. The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on.
“They had gone before we came,” he said finally. “Those men were high-priority targets, notorious Internet fraudsters. You’re lucky they didn’t kill you.”
He hesitated. Then continued, “I’ve thought every day about telling Frank. About how I look him in the eye every day and still say nothing.” His tone darkened. “But I knew about you, Rhoda. Long before this.” He paused to allow his words sink in; he saw the surprise look on her face as her eyes widened.
“The moment I saw you and Jessica together, maybe she never told you that she used to work for me; she used to be my personal bitch.”
Rhoda stared at him, stunned. Shame burned her face. “Please… I’ve changed. I swear, I’m done with that life.”
He looked at her for a long time, then rose slowly and crossed the room. She could feel his breath behind her before he spoke.
“You’re a beautiful lady, Rhoda, and my brother loves you”, he said softly. When he reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, she froze. The room seemed to tilt.
“You think you can bury what you did? He stopped at her front and leaned closer “I can help you bury your past forever.”
Rhoda’s pulse thudded in her ears. She knew that look — the mix of power and desire. She had seen it on men’s faces a thousand times before, raw lust and desire. She knew what came with that look. Blackmail!
He was going to use her situation to his advantage.
“Bring me a drink,” he said, a mischievous smile playing across his face.
As Rhoda walked to get the drink, an Idea struck in her mind. She pulled out her phone, turned on the camera recording, and angled it toward the couch. The lens blinked red. She had done it before, she had been on the street for a long time, and she knew how to play dirty.
She was going to play his game and beat him to it.
Rhoda returned with a bottle and a glass, her hands steady. Fred accepted the drink, but his eyes stayed on her—studying, calculating. Then he leaned in to kiss her lips, but she turned her head away once, twice, moving her head left and right.
Until he held her head firm and forced himself, as he pressed harder, Rhoda let him think she was giving in and that he had won. She allowed him kiss her, but she didn’t return the kiss; she just remained still and let him kiss her. Fred forced his tongue into her mouth.
Rhoda made sure she didn’t move an inch from the spot where she stood, because she knew her phone camera was capturing the moment.
Written by Tito
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