Trafficked Love Ch. 15 - Sex Stories

Trafficked Love Ch. 15

... hands. Rich turned back to Angel. Although the red-hot anger was there, it quickly drained from his expression and was replaced with concern. “Angel, look at me,” he spoke softly, still concerned with her gasping for air. Obeying out of pure habit, Angel’s gaze shifted to his face. Her eyes were spaced, and she clearly was not in any conscious frame of mind. “Can you talk?” Angel gasped a few more times as she tried to summon the strength to form cohesive words. “I…” gasp “I’ll be…” gasp “fine…” The assurance was not going to satisfy Rich, but at least she could speak, and comprehend what he was saying to her. Rich ripped off a paper towel from the near by towel dispenser and quickly ran it under warm water from the sink. He then set to work gently washing the dirt off of Angel’s body, starting with her face, then down her arms. He ran his fingernail under each of Angel’s, gently removing the dirt that was lodged there. When he finally worked his way down to Angel’s legs, her body was shaking. It could have been the air on her now damp body, chilling her from the outside in, it could be her system slowly recovering from her near asphyxiation, or it could have been shock from the entire experience. Rich wasn’t so sure. He rewet the paper towel and continued on Angel’s legs. When he began to work his way between her thighs, she jumped, clamped her legs together, and whimpered. It was a sign that she wasn’t completely coherent. Normally, she would never shy away from his touch, ...

... not even if it was laced with punishment. “Shh,” he soothed, gently prying her legs apart and wiping the dirt away from them. He then pulled her forward, having her rest her head on his shoulder as he wiped the dirt from her back. Her body still shook, and bumps had begun to form on her bruised flesh. He finished wiping the dirt from her back before he unclipped her bra and slipped it from her shoulders. Pulling the soiled bra from her, he sat her back upright as she shivered and tried to cover herself with her arms. Rich tossed the bra at the trashcan, not paying enough attention to know whether it went in or not. Rich pulled off his own shirt, “here.” He held it above her head, and swiftly lowered it over her. Her body safe inside his shirt, she slowly extended her arms through the sleeves before cradling herself once again. Rich then ripped off another paper towel and again, wet it. He then, ever so gently, put the towel between her legs, and softly pressed it to the red inflammation there. Angel jumped at his touch, and she let out a pained whimper. “Let it sit there a bit,” Rich moved the hair from Angel’s face. A few bruises were forming on her cheeks and around her eyes. But, she was calmer now. The bumps on her skin were gone, and her breathing, although it was still ragged, was at least at a better pace. Rich lifted the shirt on Angel’s body to look at the reddish bruises already taking form and color on Angel’s ribs and stomach. Even her thighs were bruised. “Want ...