Chapter 7: The Sanctum Part 1

Thomas Kirkpatrick was the CEO of a multinational shipping company. He watched his new purchase walk into his penthouse. He grinned and felt a rush of adrenaline with what he was going to do to the bitch this evening.

Dr. Elizabeth Collins, head of the Ethics and Philosophy department at the university, was going to be on her knees sucking his cock in a few minutes. He was going to rape her ass, fuck her morally superior cunt, and cum all over her tits and face. The best part was that she was going to beg for it. Power was his orgasm.

Elizabeth walked across the marble floor of the penthouse. The little black dress barely hid her big MILF tits. The outline of her nipple piercings could clearly be seen. The bottom of her ass cheeks peeked out below the dress. Her dark mascara and blood red lipstick were the perfect complement to the black outfit. This wasn’t Dr. Elizabeth Collins. This was a Vesper, a high-end fuckdoll that could be used by anyone that had the money.

Thomas was sitting in a plush armchair with a glass of scotch in one hand and a thick envelope in the other. He watched her approach, thinking that this was going to be worth every dollar.

Vesper stopped in front of him. He held out the envelope, and she took it from him. She didn’t look inside. She knew how much was there. Twenty thousand dollars for the privilege of turning the brilliant Dr. Collins into his personal cum rag for the next 6 hours.

She turned around and walked to a small table by the door. Her ass swayed as she walked away from Thomas. She dropped the envelope into her purse.

Vesper was now fully in control. She purred in her mind. Fuck, it’s so erotic taking the money. This is one of the best parts of being a whore. Taking the money and selling my body,

Vesper turned around, facing Thomas, who was still sitting in the chair. She wiggled her hips, and the little black dress fell to the floor. Vesper watched as she was now fully on display for the man that just bought her body.

Her big tits had a natural sag. The nipple piercing now fully on display and glistening in the low light of the room. Her shaved cunt was already wet. She saw Thomas staring at her cunt lip piercings and her clit-hood piercings.

He pointed to the floor in front of him.

Vesper walked over swaying her hips and her big tits jiggling. She knelt down in front of him with her eyes lowered.

He grabbed her chin, forcing her head up.

“I own your ass now, Professor. Every hole. For the next six hours, you aren’t a person. You’re a set of holes I paid to use. Understand, bitch?”

Vesper nodded her head.

This was number 50. Nothing more and nothing less. Thomas was the 50th person to buy her ass. This is what she had to do to protect her family and protect the public persona of Dr. Elizabeth Collins.

Vespe looked into his eyes with a look of fear and submissiveness. “Can this dumb cunt please suck your cock, sir?”

Thomas slapped her tits hard. “Beg for it, bitch. Make me believe it.”

Vesper had done this so many times. Putting a panicked look of fear in her face “Please sir, I know this slut doesn’t belong in a man’s world. This cunt is only good as a set of fuckholes for men. “ Pleeeeeeeeeeeeese, I need to suck your cock pleeeeeeeeeees.”

From there it was mostly a blur for Vesper. The same degrading sex, the same humiliation that she had to show her customers. Sucking his cock with wet, sloppy, slurpy sounds because these men loved a sloppy whore.

Vesper was on her knees pressing her face into the crevice of Thomas’s ass. He was a man who moved billions of dollars in cargo across the globe, but right now he was focused on the feeling of her tongue lapping at his hairy asshole.

With a low moan he said, “That’s it, you stupid fucking cunt, taste my fucking asshole.”

Vesper moaned for his benefit. Her tongue worked with practiced skill, circling the rim of his asshole before going inside. She could feel his muscles clench around her. This was her life now. This was client number fifty for Dr. Elizabeth Collins, now known as Vesper, a foul-mouthed, three-hole whore.

“Mmm, this stupid slut loves the taste of your asshole, sir.”

He pulled away and grabbed a fistful of her hair. He yanked her head back, forcing her to look up at him. Her whore makeup was already a mess. The black mascara ran down her cheeks.

Grabbing and squeezing her tits “Tell me, bitch, how much of a worthless, dumb-ass whore you are.”

Crying out, “Fuck, yes! I’m a dumb cunt! The only smart thing in my fucking head is your cock! Please, sir, I need it. I need your cock to fill my worthless holes.”

Thomas laughed. He loved this part. He loved buying Dr. Collins, the brilliant professor, and reducing her to a begging, cock-hungry animal.

He got up and told her to lie over the arm of the sofa.

Vesper leaned over the arm of the sofa with her head down in the pillows and her ass presented to Thomas.

The first spank landed hard on her right ass cheek.

Smack

Vesper felt the sharp sting that grew into a burning sensation in her ass cheeks as he spanked her soft, fleshy ass cheeks.

Thomas finished at 50 swats. He saw a nice glowing red ass ready for fucking.

Spitting on her tight, puckered asshole and sneering, he said, “Gonna fuck this ass now, Professor.”

He lined his thick cock up and pushed inside in one brutal thrust.

Vesper screamed, a mixture of genuine pain and practiced ecstasy. “Fuck! Yes! Fuck my ass! Use me! Stretch my ass!”

He did. He pounded into her with his balls slapping against her cunt. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her back to meet every thrust. The room was filled with the sounds of flesh on flesh, her fake moans of ecstasy, and his grunts of exertion.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled out. “On your knees, bitch, and open your fucking mouth, whore.”

He flipped her onto her back again, straddling her chest. “Open your fucking mouth, whore.”

She obeyed with her tongue out and her eyes wide. He jerked his cock furiously. He grunted like an animal. He then blasted a stream of thick, warm cum across her face, her tits, and her neck. It dripped from her chin, pooled between her breasts, and ran down the sides of her face. She didn’t move. She just kneeled there covered in cum.

Elizabeth was driving home six hours later. The cum had dried on her face and tits. Her ass was sore, her jaw ached, and her cunt throbbed with a dull, unsatisfied ache. She hadn’t cum once. Not even close. That was a job, and she was getting very good at her job.

She remembered her first time with Senator Sterling. All the emotions of terror, shame, and gut-wrenching humiliation. It had almost shattered her. Now this. This was just Tuesday. Six hours of being called a dumb cunt, of having her holes used, of being covered in cum, and it had no more emotional impact than a trip to the grocery store.

Vesper was getting stronger. More resilient. She was a seasoned, high-priced whore who could satisfy the twisted, repetitive fantasies of powerful men.

Deep inside Elizabeth knew that Vesper wasn’t some new personality created by trauma. Vesper had always been there, hidden in the shadows. She was the filthy secret part of her that had craved this very degradation. Dominic hadn’t created Vesper, but he did set her free.

The problem was Vesper was no longer content to be let out for a few hours at a time. She was clawing at the walls of Elizabeth’s mind. She was demanding more control, wanting to be the one in charge. Elizabeth’s goal had been to master this new reality, to be the one in control, letting Vesper out to perform when needed. But Vesper wanted to be the one who decided when, if ever, Elizabeth got to come out. The war continued.

Elizabeth, Donna, and Anthony were having breakfast. Elizabeth saw the tension in her daughter’s face.

Donna kept shooting furtive glances at her mother, then at her brother, Anthony, who was shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth.

“Anthony, don’t you have that ... thing? With your friends?”

Anthony looked up, a smear of yolk on his chin. “Thing? I have lots of things. You gotta be more specific, sis.”

With her fingers wrapped tight around her juice glass and looking at Anthony. “You know, the ... the car thing. The guy thing. Whatever it is you do.”

He grinned. “Ah, I see. Code for ‘get lost so the girls can talk about periods and feelings.’ Say no more.” He shoveled in the last of his eggs, wiped his plate with a piece of toast, and stood. “I’m out of here. Try not to solve all the world’s problems before I get back.”

Donna pushed her plate away with her appetite gone.

Elizabeth watched her daughter, seeing the familiar signs of a mind at war with itself. “Alright, Donna. Out with it. Is this about Jack?”

Donna’s head snapped up, her eyes wide. “How did you know?”

“Because you’ve been twisting your napkin into a rope for the last ten minutes and because you’re a teenage girl with a serious boyfriend, and the prom is a month away. It’s a fairly straightforward”

Donna slumped in her chair, the tension draining out of her. “Something’s ... different about him. He’s changed. He has this ... swagger now. He’s not clumsy or shy anymore. Yesterday, he just took my hand and told me we were going to get pizza after school. He didn’t ask. He just decided. Before, he would have stammered for five minutes about whether I might possibly be hungry.”

Elizabeth felt a cold knot form in her gut. She knew exactly when that change had occurred. She could still feel his hands on her skin and his cock filling her mouth. She had given him that swagger. She had personally curated the confidence he was now using on her daughter.

Saying as matter-of-factly as she could, Elizabeth said, “That’s called maturity, honey.”

She took a steadying sip of coffee. “Boys often mature a bit later than girls. It sounds like Jack is just catching up.”

Donna bit her lip. “I think ... I think he wants to take me to his family’s lake house after the prom.”

She looked up at her mother. “To ... you know. To have sex.”

Elizabeth knew this conversation was coming. She had taught Jack how to navigate a similar type of conversation, how to read the signs, and how to take charge.

“It’s important that you make your own decisions, Donna. Don’t let him pressure you. Your body, your choice.”

Elizabeth saw the confusion in her daughter’s face.

Donna said, “I know. That’s the problem. It’s not him pressuring me. It’s me.” I want it, Mom. I think about it all the time. I touch myself at night, imagining what it would be like, and I feel so guilty. How can I want this so badly when you’ve always taught me to be smart, to be in control, to not let my emotions or my urges dictate my actions?”

Vesper’s persona spoke out in her mind. How about those ethics and morals, Professor? Tell her about the morals you follow when you’re on your knees, licking some stranger’s asshole for a stack of cash. Tell her about the ethical framework you use when you’re teaching her boyfriend how to deflower her.

Elizabeth shook her head. “There’s no conflict, Donna. Exploring your sexuality and wanting to feel pleasure are natural. It’s not immoral or unethical, as long as it’s consensual and respectful. It’s not about being controlled by your urges. It’s about choosing to explore them in a way that feels right for you.”

A flashback flickered in Elizabeth’s mind. She and her husband, Anthony James Collins III, or AJ, as she called him, were in their playroom, as they called it.

Vesper broke through in her mind. “Remember, Lizzy? Remember how you and AJ explored your deviant sexual tendencies?”

Elizabeth continued ignoring Vesper in her mind. “The most important thing is that you don’t do anything you’re not ready for. You make the rules.”

Donna let out a long breath with a wave of relief washing over her. “Oh, Mom. I’m so glad I can talk to you about this. I knew you’d understand. You always know what’s best for me. I don’t know what I can do, but I know I always look up to you as my role model to follow.

The words struck Elizabeth hard. Best for you. She had just condoned her daughter going down a path that she helped create with a boy she had personally trained in the art of seduction, all while wearing the mask of the concerned, ethical mother.

How could she ever tell Donna the truth? That the man her daughter was falling for had learned his confidence by fucking her mother in a hotel room for five hundred dollars?

She forced a smile. “Always, sweetheart. Always.”

As Donna walked away, Elizabeth battled with Vesper.

“Don’t call me Lizzy. That’s what AJ called me. Don’t you dare start resurrecting those memories.”

Vesper shot back, “Oh come on, Lizzy! How do you think we endured all of that pain our customers have given us? We’re used to it. We LIKE it Lizzy. Remember when AJ had that riding crop pointed at your cunt. Just five more, Lizzy, and you can cum,” he told you.

Elizabeth knew what Vesper had said was true. She remembered how intense her orgasms were after AJ had flogged her.

Angela Blackheart opened the door and walked in to Sorella’s restaurant. It could have been one of the scenes from any number of old-school mafia crime movies.

“Seriously? There are actually places like this, amazing.” She thought.

The regulars watched as she walked towards the back of the restaurant. What they saw was a woman in her late forties, an hourglass figure with large but not grossly huge breasts. She had on a white blouse showing ample cleavage, a blue blazer, a peach skirt, and sensible flat shoes. She had long, wavy, dirty blonde hair. She was the persona of a modern Southern businesswoman, albeit showing more cleavage than one would normally see in a boardroom. The genteel Georgia drawl was meant to charm those men that could be swayed by such things.

Angela saw Dominic sitting in a booth near the back wall. She saw a man swirling the amber liquid in his glass, surveying his domain. He had a look of satisfaction on his face, almost like he knew a secret that nobody else knew about. He reminded her of the coach of the last Super Bowl-winning team. Someone who knew how to use his players like chess pieces. Always plotting strategies two steps ahead of the competition.

Dominic, always the gentleman, got up and took her hand, helping her sit down opposite of him.

She could sense the power he had. “Why, thank you, Mr. Santoro. Such a gentleman. A lady can get used to such good manners.” She said in her sweet southern drawl.