PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LEAVE FEED BACK CRITICISM HELPS BUILD GREAT WRITERS AND I ENCOURAGE IT. I AM THINKING OF MAKING THIS A BOOK SO IF I GET ENOUGH TIPS AND FEEDBACK ON IT THAN I'LL GO AHEAD AND START ON IT.
There she was. Always on time. Me standing just to the right of the window seal taking in every secret of the scene. I look down at my warm palms prickling on the inside. How am I nervous? My face growing warmer the closer she gets to ringing the bell.. with anticipation? or the manifestation of that inner cavilling?
I take a quick glace around the room at the current thought. It was fine.. It's all just great. I had taken so much care to ensure the evening would go as smoothly as I had hoped. My eyes scan the room to find the clock with it's familiar ticking. The air is thick with spice, every nook and cranny swept, dusted,washed and rinsed. Making good use of the never used bottle of cologne.. an earthy, very refreshing scent spritzed in a very particular fashion around me.
The sound startles me as if I hadn't known to expect the tolling to happen so soon. My current thought no longer so eager to hang around.
Standing and peering at the door as if I had expected her to have a key. I imagine her waiting now with much expectancy. I begin counting aloud in a hush
There is was again. I breathe deeply, exhaling before making my way towards the door.
"Impatient are we", I hum to myself. Approaching the heavy wooden door and reaching out to grant my guest access I stop just short of turning the knob to ask.."Who is it".
Her breathy, slightly higher pitch responding, "Darla".
I smirk as I pull open the door pretending to be surprised she had been standing there. "Who else were you expecting to see Nicholas?". She stands about five foot seven in heels. Still falling just under my fourth rib. Her scent easily filling the air around and behind her as she struts past the entrance of my abode.
Instantly I begin hoping that night.. this night, I could be engulfed in that honey dew trail of bliss. Completely absorbed by the spell she casts around the room whichever way her hips swayed. "It smells really good in here, someone must have hired a chef just before my arrival huh?". She teases. "I do know how cook when I am hungry.. single, I am.. not helpless". She has her back turned to me now standing to the left of the window I had been staring out of a few minutes ago.
"Had you seen me coming?" she asks inquisitively, "No. I don't have psychic abilities unfortunately". I chuckle on the inside at the words that lined my lips to follow, never to escape. "I ask because this window has a clear view to your garden.. which is lovely by the way. I was almost lost in the greenery driving up the trail". She turns, her eyes exploding in that honey brown color, Specs of green teasing the corners before dipping into the depths of her pupil.
"I have grown my own mint leaves and a few other spices for years." I reply. "It's something my mother had been so determined to teach me as a child." I circle the room to find my way to the kitchen which had just a large island almost isolating it to this one section of the house. White marbel counter top, the island had been the only thing separating the kitchen from the living room in which she was standing. "Seems a bit strange". Darla now finding herself comfortable in the deep brown leather couch. I shuffle around, fingers searching the oak cupboards to find two tea cups. "Yeah, well my mother always wanted a girl.. doesn't change how handy such a skill comes. Canning and preserving, Things like that.." I stop to revel for a moment in the memories springing to life before my eyes.
"My, what a broad girl you'd be". I hear the laughter in her voice. "So tell me something.." I interrupt, "Would you like to try some mint tea?". She pauses for a slit second, "Yes, I would love to taste the spells of your childhood". My eyes meet hers as a moment of silence passes. I lick my lips erasing the words my desire was envoking. "It's good I promise".
"Mmm", She tilts her head at her inner thoughts. I think for a second if she had heard mine. "So, Nicholas why.." I finish, "..am I single?". "Well, you sure have a bad habit of interrupting". My jaw clinched at the comment before I respond. "I apologize. It's just that the question has spoiled". She hadn't been the first to ask and surly not the last. "Well, Nicholas.. it is a bit intricate, the thought. How could a man as handsome and experienced as you have no one? I would think that the women would have eaten you up by now".
"I guess, I just haven't found the right one". The tea pot begins to holler just as I finish. I previously sat it upon the stove for what seemed to be a few moments. I feel her eyes outlining every inch of me as silence fills the room. Just the crackling of the hot water against the side of the cups and the low hiss as the sugar dissolves casting out it's last moments as a solid.
She breaks the silence, "So when do we get to eat"? I place the cups on a tray to carry into the living room where we will be sitting. "It isn't yet finished, I can grab you a quick snack if you would like"?
"No, no.. it's fine. It just smells so good in here my mouth is watering with anticipation. What did you make"? I place the tray on the marbel, salt and pepper coffee table in front of her before claiming my seat next to her. "Stew.. beef." I replied. "I thought that it would be appropriate since I had forgotten to ask you what you may have wanted to eat." Her legs were beginning to cross and i peer down for a moment almost wishing that a breeze would blow her burgundy dress up just a few inches to expose that underneath. Her legs were tan and glossy like .. like..I sigh and look away. "Is that okay?" I ask as I turn back to meet her eyes full of life. "Yes, I love stew.. it isn't yet winter but we are just a few weeks away. Seems like you don't get much snow up here.." her gaze shifts to the tea and her brows compress inward."Now that I am thinking how do you get the mint to survive the winter"?
"My secret", I hear my voice growing husky. It was giving my thoughts away. My eyes trailed down from her glossed lips outling the creases of her neck adorned with a silver dove down to her breast, I wondered what her nipples were like. Were they wide.. deep in color like my favorite chocolate candies, or were they small and sweet like butter scotch. I must have stared a little too long because she clears her throat. " Nicholas.." My eyes snap up to meet hers but I don't say anything. "So is that television just for show?", I couldn't hold back the words "I thought that maybe I was already watching my favorite one". I could see her cheeks begin to redden. To keep the moment from running on too long i ask what movie she would like to watch. Motioning to the depository sitting beside the television but never looking away.
She stands to take a look at my collection hidden inside as I go to check on the pot of stew on the stove. Darla was right, I lifted the top releasing the aromas of that within. It did smell damn good in here. My mothers recipe. Terry, they had called my mother Terry. A nick name that somehow arose from her real name Pauline. She was very overbearing and strict. Though strict had fallen short of an appropriate adjective. My mother was very demanding, always excercising control. "So Darla, Where did you get that necklace of yours?" I yell over my shoulder as I fumble around a few objects on the table looking for a spoon to stir our dinner. Darla looking up for a moment on account of all the rumbling going a few paces to the right of her. "My grandmother. She loves doves. Had a beautiful birdcage and two small doves that she would let me and my older sister feed". A little uninterested in her response I sigh as I find the spoon I had been tearing the counter apart looking for. She had an older sister. You wouldn't have guessed it since she had a demeanor that screamed only child. "You love scary movies huh?" I remember Darla had been just a few feet away from me. "Yes, ever since I was a kid, do you?" I ask as i turn off the stove manuvering the steaming hot mass from one eye to the other allowing it to cool. "I do. I have never seen this one.." Darla hold up a case that reads "Alone with a stranger". "I don't think I have either", I say through a smirk.
I fill the bowls I find with the hot recipe that screamed satisfaction. The stew obviously being too hot to eat now I leave it on the counter before returning to join Darla by the television. " It's ready". I take the dvd from her small hands taking note of the neat manicure. Light pink. I silently marvel at the thought. I didn't take her as a 'Pink' kind of woman. Her color seemed more like a red or a gray. I could feel the inquizition build within as I process the realization that her nails had matched her dress in that strange unexpecting way. It called my mother to mind. The days I would watch her prepare for a date, painting her toes. "Men love to say that it doesn't matter if a woman paints her face.. they love natural women they say. I ain't seen a man complain about a woman painting her toes". Terry had a way with men. My mother. My father left us alone in the winter so many years before. He was our bread and butter since my mother didn't work. Thorougly convinced by my late grandmother, her mother, that she wouldn't ever have to work as long as she had a man by her side. With that man running for the hills with a younger woman she had been on the hunt for a new support system. The question was if it were to ensure my future or hers. My grandmother played a big part in the making of my mothers controlling nature. She , at one point had been just as controlling as my mother.
I hear that sound again. Darla clearing her throat "Are you okay Nicholas"? I look to my left at her. "Yeah, sorry.. It's just that.." Darla begins "You haven't had a woman touch you in a while have you?" The question almost frightens me before setting a fire ablaze stemming from my lower parts. I think to respond but the words were no where. What made her ask that? Unexpected. I was running this show not her but she had come in close enough now for me to feel her heat. My body revving up as my nose tickled then flared with the scent of warm vanilla. A pheramone? A memory?
What ever it was sent a chill up my spine causing my head to lower wanting to feel her lips on mine. She almost accepts, but then pulls away. Who did she think she was teasing? "It's hot?" I take a moment to realigne my thoughts, "Yes, I've just taken it off of the stove. Maybe we can finish our tea and fill ourselves with something more savory when it cools". She coos softly. Unsure of what that meant and unwilling to risk losing control over the situation I turn to finish the task of turning on electronics to slip in the movie. I am in charge here, this is my home. I am a man. Who is she to tease me?
A few moments later I stand awaiting that familiar sound. The wide screen springing to life with a blue background and the assortment of horns blowing together in harmony. The movie would soon begin. I turn to see her already sitting, her legs thrown across one another and her heels resting on the coffee table. Somehow the room is warmer than before. Her posture a little more relaxed than the passing moments. I begin to meander toward her before sauntering in her direction. I glance over at the tea cup to be sure. She had taken it in.
"Comfortable are we?" Her eyes make their way up to meet mine, her hand casually patting the cushion next to her hips. I choose instead to watch her warm on the inside as yearning courses through her veins. Her head falls back slowly for a second before violently falling to rest on the plump pillow or a cusion behind her. "You haven't yet eaten", I tsk aloud as if she wasn't now on another planet. Leaning in to catch a wiff of the scent that is her I close my eyes imagining how lovely her skin might feel. It didn't take much to put her down. Maybe she really hadn't eaten a thing before coming.
Desire bursting out from my core at the thought. Oh what a crime it seemed to be to touch her, but touch her I would. I let first just the tips of my fingers trace the curves of her eyebrows trailing down to come to the creases of her nose. "Like a cute little button". I look to her lips pondering. Thinking of how she had pulled away. I settle on the decision to wait. I want her awake and aware. The next thought falling out of accord with the last as I kneel down until I am resting on both knees. I move her legs apart feeling the burst of warmth their constant proximity stored between the flesh. I gander up as if I had been asking her for permission to do what my pensive thoughts were guiding me to do. I move in between her warmth with my back straight. both hands running ever so slowly over each of ther thighs on up to her hips. She was as soft as I had imagined. The mere thought taking me places that I could only remember in the past. I lean down to lightly place a kiss on her right thigh as my left hand continues courseing up, up.. until I can feel her breast in my hand. She was so warm. Assuming that her erect nipples had been a natural response to my prying fingers I bit back on the tantalizing thought to lift her dress and allow my eyes to fulfil their yearning. Instead.. i retracted both hands reaching to lift the deep blue cotton over my head. tugging it away from the resistance that came with the contraction of my shoulder blades.
The tension had long been built in my hips. The hidden parts of me wanting now to be free I again place my right palm on her thigh. Then I hear it..
"What are you doing Nicholas?" That familiar voice.
"I'm playing with my cars mom.. I found a car in the bushes near Mr. Fintch's house. He said that he could pull her out of all that mess if I showed him where it was". I was about seven then, so impressionable. Mr. Fintch wasn't exactly a neighbor of ours but we would find him hanging around a house in the neighborhood often enough to assume that he owned it.
"Nicholas, I told you about playing around in the woods near that house. Now, has Mr Fintch seen that car? A beautiful woman my mother was. Five foot six, one hundered and forty pounds. More curves than a 1970 Corvette. She was a cool breeze on a hot summer day. A warm cup of coffee on a bitter winter morning.
"No, I told him I had to ask you first. I'm sorry mom I was just walking by and the wind blew my ball away..".
"Well when you see him you tell him that you've forgotten now where that car was. Do you hear me?"
"You told me not to lie momma, you said that I'd be grounded worse than the time you locked me in my room for a week if I ever did again.."
"You will be if you ever lie to me.". Her tone stern. Hardened and unegotiable. "I am telling you that this once you tell a little white lie to that nosey Mr. Fintch. You tell him that you have forgotten! Do you understand?"
I come back to the current moment, jaw clenched tightly. My hand still resting on warm skin. I feel my jaw loosen and suddenly my mind was changed. I motion to pull her forward allowing me to force the bottom part of her dress upward over her hips. The heat from within me growing screaming with anticipation to know if she feels as tasty as she looks and smells. My rod stiffening as i pull her hips slightly off of the couch to meet mine. For a breath I wonder if her nipples were still as erect as before. I let my fingers run up and down her sides savoring the feeling of her silky smooth skin prickling beneath my touch. My Hips gyrating. Pushing in to crush her hips than motioning back in a sway. I wanted to be inside of her. I wanted to feel how tight she could grab me. I wanted her warmth to surround me, to suck me in as I pull out only to crash a little harder upon submergance. My body ached for it, for her. I reach both hands under her lifted dress to grab her plump breasts. They were so perfect. So full. Closing my eyes I imagine her breasts dancing in front of me as she bounces up and down. My shaft plunging in deep making her climax over and over.
"NO". I couldn't lose control of this. I am in charge, I am!
I stand and rush to the kitchen. Just short of ripping the counter top away i force a draw stuck on the rail free. Looking for it. Grinning with satisfaction I hold the cuffs tightly in my hand as if they could think to run away from my grasp. Making my way to her resting form I lift her over my shoulder to carry her away into the basement. A descent she may not survive. The dreary air surrounding us as I disappear into the darkness .One step after another. I had gone up and down these steps enough times to manuver blind folded. I reach the end of the long journey down into the deepest secret of the house, flicking the light switch on. Even the whispers in the room were illuminated as a ceiling embellished with lights extending farther down into the basement than where I currently stood lit up with hot bulbs of all shapes and sizes. Walls black in some spots and cackey red in others. The echos of my boots knocking softly and then louder across the distance in either direction of the cluttered basement. Full of boxes. Somethings heavy and metal others wooden or plastic. After walking for some time, passing a few doorways at turns I arrive at my destination. The beautiful vixen thrown over my shoulder and cuffs I was now tucking into my back pocket to allow a free hand to unlock the tall door in front of me. A wave of excitement billowing over me as the door unlocks and swings open. The air which was but a bitter musk shifting into a more putrid odor for a second before clearing out into the smell of..
I lay her in a corner of the room before returning to close the door to my play pin. Darla will be cuffed to a home made contraption bolted with large nails into the ceiling. A device made for torture. I reach behind my body to pull the cuffs from my back pocket, walking until I have made my way to Darlas side where i neal down to snap the cuff around her left wrist. She weighed almost nothing to me. A man who has long trained himself to bench press 265lbs easy.. A six pack tighter than a fishermans knot, my core was stronger than the average man who frequents the gym every other day. She was a feather. A flower in my grasp whose petals I took care not to crush as I hooked her onto the device. Her feet suspended about four inches from the floor on account of her heels not being removed. I lean down to remove them after ensuring that she was strapped in and secure. I feel the rise of an earlier thought surfacing. Her toes had been a match to her nails which were a match to her dress. I look up to see her bowed head facing me, eyes closed. Her cheeks were turning red as was her forehead. The pressure pull of gravity forcing blood to crevasses it isn't typically stored in bulk. I stand and tilt her head back. The light source above shinning onto her face. Her chocolate brown hair shimmering in the light giving her a glow that draws me in closer. She smelled so sweet, so tempting. How long would I have to wait for her to open those pretty little eyes. How long did I have to wait to see her pupils dialate with the pleasure of surprise and pain.
No one has ever walked out of this dungeon that I dragged or carried in. She wouldn't be any different. "Hhhmm", The sound of awareness. Her movements are slow and weak. Me standing just a few feet away from her awaiting the moment reality sets in. The following moments are full of panic, gasps and hysterical screams. I am amused by the way her legs flail, beating the air with force. As much as her body could muster. "Fighting only makes the pain worse", I lift two fingers. Erect and pointing in a tapping motion to the chains around her wrists.
"What do you want?" Her voice is shaky, eyes now welping with that bitter fluid. "What are you doing Nicholas.. Why are you doing this?". I almost laugh aloud at the cliché. "Doing what Darla?" I tease and it only makes her cries hearty, soaked in fear. "Don't worry Darla, I won't hurt you.. in fact you won't feel a thing." It was a promise I could only half heartedly keep for her wails were beginning to anger me as her feet were now rapidly swatting the air. Hoping to find the cool ground beneath. "Please, please just let me go. I-I won't tell anyone I was here.. I won't tell-" her last words are cut short as the inner qualm swells and tightens in her throat. "I know you won't be telling anyone a thing, now will you?"
"No, mom". "Good boy!".. The room around me fades into the recaptured moment. My mother had been conversating with Mr. Fintch in a hushed tone. I was on my way down the steps to the front door just at the end of it until I heard my mother yelling "No", in protest. She seemed as if she had been about to cry, jumping in surprise as I entered the doorway. She hurried to my side holding me around the waist as she nealed to make herself my height. Mr. Fintch growling "Hello, Nicholas! would you like to come with me for a bit?" My mother responded, "No you bastard!" I stood baffled. I remembered my mothers warning and so I declined his offer adding that I had forgotten now where to find the car. Mr. Fintch stood unswayed by the comment. "Oh, that doesn't matter now. your mother was so kind to find it in the very spot it was hidden. We moved that old piece of metal to a more conspicuous location". He spoke in a taunting tone. I didn't understand it was just yesterday that I told my mother about the find. How had she found it without help and if she hated Mr. Fitch so much why was he here making demands as if she had no choice. She turned her head and weeped, my small hands cupped her face as I felt fear tug at my shoulder that something very bad was in the pot brewing. "What's wrong momma. Why are you crying?" She looked me over with saddned eyes pausing as she and I made contact with each other. Her warm palm reaching out to caress my cheek before she spoke the words aloud. "You go on with Mr. Fintch. Be a good boy and he will bring you right back here when you all have found that ball you lost out there near his house okay? You're coming right back.." She mouthed the last few words as if she had been speaking to Mr. Fintch instead. A man of the age 47. Still standing up strait with salt and pepper hair lining his chin and mouth.
The day I realized how deeply my mother loved me. The moment I saw how unprepared for the world I really was. As she sat with her butt pressed to the floor and her back against the doorway where I was just standing. Trying to flash a reassuring smile as Mr. Fintch led me by the handwalking in the opposite direction. I knew then that I would never see my mother again.
Darla, suspended in the air still with cries that were now hopeless wimpers. My eyes locked. Fixed on her breast which were nearly spilling out of her dress from all the jerky movements she had been making. I inch closer to touch and she swings her legs upward to push me away. "I thought that I would be able to leave those pretty legs of yours free for the moment. I guess you are like the others after all". She throws her head back as pain shoots up her forearm to her shoulder. Looking up at her hands now red and bruising I chuckle before scouting the room for leg restraints. "I told you.. the more you fight the more intense the pain". Finding the restraints i return to my position in front of her to warn. "If you swing your legs to kick me I will cut those pretty little fucking toes of yours off one by fucking one!". She stills a bit, arms resisting, but legs at a stand still. I reach down and apply the leather fabric around her legs. The restraints extending from her ankle to the top of her shin connecting in the back by her calf before looping into two movable plaques that held her in a elated cheerleader pose. Arms in the air connected by cuffs hooped through a metal circle connected to an extended metal rod that was welded into a larger piece of metal wrapped in silver barbed wire fence inches behind her. The mechanical parts above her head able to twist and turn her in either direction. Front, back.. left right, up or down. I search the room for the control. Following the thick black chord stemming from the base of the tourture wall to its location. Picking it up from the table across the room from a pool of what looked like blood I press a single yellow button to lower her down. Feet touching the floor she closes her eyes presumably thankful that her arms burning with torturous pain have found rest. For now.
"Darla.." I speak in a tone that is smooth, casual even. "Why did you wear that dress here, for our date?", She remains silent. "Darla!" I drag the ending out with a low growl. She hisses "What do you want from me?" I start off walking to the right. Beginning to circle her as my eyes scamper up an down her frame unveiling each secret that could be beneath her dress. "Why.. did.. you.. wear.. it?" I stop just on her right side. She peers at me before lowering her head quietly laughing which made peaked my curiosity. "I thought that tonight..", her voice trailed off but i waited for her to finish. "I figured that I could finally trust you". I begin circling her again. "You wanted to fuck me?" She closes her eyes probably cursing herself for being so easy. "You wanted my cock inside of you? My hands all over you touching you in hidden places?" I circle once more to stop in front of her just inches from her lips. Her head was laying slightly back as she opens her eyes to stare at me trying to pretend to be unphased by what was happening. Uninterested in entertaining it I lean to run my left hand over her hip. Speaking softly, "You have no idea how bad I want your wish to come true". I turn to grab the control I left a few feet away only to reclaim my spot in front of her. Using the controls to heighten her entire frame so that she is looking directly at me. She cringes at the pain in her writs. I comb the immediate area surrounding us to find two small boxes to place under her feet. Helping to lessen the pain of suspension. She leans her head back again ogling her writs which were red but a little more comfortable. "What do you want?" She asks.
"I want you naked", I begin to remove her dress. Flared at the waist but tight with the semi low V across her chest. There was a zipper in the back that I wrap around and unzip. My body pressed into hers I could hear her heart beat quicken. "Shhh" I expelled the air between my teeth lightly to assure her pain wouldn't follow. At least for the moment. "Save that adrenelin for the momemts that matter". I swiftly turn to pull the scissors from the table near the door stocked with various tools bolts and cutters splattered with the blood of a more recent kill. She screams when I turn to face her with scissors in hand. My gait is heavy and fast as I retyrn to cut the dress free in the places it still hugged her body. She begins a painful weep as I stepped backwards to get an eyefull of the sight in front of me. She had been wearing a black thong with silky ribbon woven in a design before becoming a bow at the hips. Her breasts were sitting in a black shelf bra that was just as silky as the ribbons on her hips. I smiled decreasing the distanve between us not pausing before slipping two fingers between her legs and pressing my lips to hers. She resisted and but down hard on my bottom lip. I laugh as the blood trailed down the center of my mouth. "My turn", I continued massaging her through her undergarment which did little to cover much. Leaning my head to the side I place little kisses up and down her neck finally making my way to her breasts. I remove the hand massaging her now wet parts and reach to set her luscious mounds free. She begins to jolt left and right making them jump and flex as I throw the piece of soft fsbric to the side. Grabbing a handful I whisper "This is what you wanted?" "NO!" she screams as I lick out my tongue using the tip to circle her areola before mouthing the entire nipple. My hand slips between her legs again rubbing harder with determination and her head falls back. I note the movement and return the favor biting down hard on her chest abover her right breast as she wiggled and moaned in pain. "Play nice with me and I with play nice with you".
Just then the memories flood in..
"Play nice with me and I will play nice with you Nicholas", Mr. Fintch huffed as I sat moping in the passenger seat of his truck. It was white and loud making a pop and whistle sound every few minutes but he hadn't been taking me to his home to play. In fact, we had driven past his home or what I thought was his home an hour ago. Leaving that familiar neighborhood behind. Nothing made sense. Nothing but one realization. Whatever was happening now had been a product of my mothers conversation with Mr. Fitch a few hours prior to my kidnapping.
I let the swollen chunk of flesh free. The taste of the present moment salty on my lips. I had bitten her hard but I didn't want her to bleed. Not yet. Pausing before reaching to my own belt buckle to unlatch my jeans I ask a question tugging at my chest. "Do you know what it feels like to be raped?" Darla with her face turned to I am looking at the side of her face. I kick off my secobd boot before dropping my pants and ask again. "Do you know what it is like yo be raped?" She shakes her head violently crying out "NO, NO, NO NO NO". I lift a finger to hush her. "I won't rape you. You wanted this remember you wanted me. Needed me to touch you.." I begin running the tips of my fingers across her chest drawing a hiss as I roll over the swollen indentation of my teeth. She begins crying more hysterically than before and I kneel to lick the inner part of her thigh. Placing kisses on either leg I reach again for the scissors to now cut away the thin fabric made to tease me at her hips. Once free I swell with the rush of joy and excitement. Placing the moistened fabric under my nose and taking a deep breath in. "You've soaked these", I reach up to dangle them in front of her face. Standing to see her beautiful eyes, the soft skin around them tired and puffy. I excuse myself and apologize. Remembering that she hadn't yet eaten. She had begun to speak words that would fall on deaf ears as I had already turned to exit. Trailing down the long dark halls twisting around every corner to find the staircase leading to the exit from the madness. I start up the stairs to the door at the end speaking out loud I say, "My mother use to come here. She would come and visit every blue moon. She would hug me and kiss my cheeks and ask.." "Have you been a good boy?"
Her once overbearing and demanding nature now inquisituve and longing. I would always ask "Is today the day that I come home. Can I go home Mom?" She yilted her head ans smiled as I reached the top of the stairs. "Yes, of course Nicholas".
I burst through the door eyeing the bowls I left sitting a few feet away on the counter. I circle the livingroom retrieving the tray I had used to carry in the tea I laced with a familiar muscle relaxer. Making my way to the kitchen I place the tray next to the bowls sitting on the counter and begin the hunt for a spoon. Successful in my search I plaxe the bowl, spoon and a napkin onto the tray and pace hastily to return to the dungeon.
I return with a clang and a bang signaling the opening and closing of my playroom door. Thinking how innapropiate it was for Darla to be there so sexy and bare I place the tray on the table hosting my tourture equipment. Returning to the hall to rummage through the a box labeled Lilly. I lift a sea green towel from the box, raiding it up to bury my face the scent. A song entering my thoughts and exiting as quickly as it had come. Rushing to return the door slams hard behind me as I pause before continuing slowly into her diection. "I am going to cover you. You shouldn't be so.. naked at dinner". Approaching her I wrap her the large towel around her body. "Don't spill anything on this towel. This is Lillys towel and she loves it so. A gift. The last one from her late grandmother". Darla crunches her face in disapproval. "I know. I never understood her attachment to the the damn thing. Why not a teddy bear or..", I eyeball the dove hanging around Darlas neck. "A necklace".
I spun to check the clock on the wall just above the door frame. 10pm. It was getting close. My time was running out and soon I would have to repeat it all again tomorrow. Picking up the warm bowl of stew I walk toward her, bowl and spoon in hand. "You must be starving". She wimper but no tears fall. I huss her again explaining that I hadn't done anything funny to the soup. It truly was my mothers recipe I had worked so hard to perfect. I dip the spoon into the bowl fulling it with the warm juices. Darla turns her head in protest. "Do you really want to deny my offer to fill your belly". Her tummy had been growling moments before. She was hungry. "I told you. I won't hurt you. Play nice with me. C'mon eat up". She turns her head as I usher the spoon in closer to her mouth. A warm wave if arousal tightening its grips around my cock as she allows the spoon to slip between her warm glossed lips.
We continue the pattern until the bowl is half way gone and she begins asking for something to drink. I leave for a bit returning with a cup of water and a cup of tea. No doubt she was probably wanting me to keep the tea cup as far away from her as possible. assuring her that they were both safe she parts her lips and asks me what it was that I wanted. Sighing I simply walk towards her lifting either hand like a seesaw and tilting my head urging her to choose. She chose the tea. I chuckle thinking that perhaps she hoped I was lying and could drink her way into the dream world she had been pushed into sometime earlier. I give her water instead adding that she could have the tea later if she has grown patched. I hum with approval as she lapped down the water almost until the glass was gone. I snapped back stating that if she had completely filled her belly it way have made what was to follow uncomfortable. That made her wince.
she closed her eyes once more as I stood and stared. My eyes again outlining the creases of her jaw and neck reawakening the bulge in my boxers. "Darla?" I I call out to her in a thoaty low tone and her head comes forward but she doesn't say anything. "May I touch you.. NO! I am going to touch you now, okay?" Her expression never changing she asks "Is this some kind of joke? Are you into this, this.. S&M kind of stuff. If this is..", I hiss. "I am giving you what you want. You want me to fuck you, you want my to cum inside of you. To run my fingers up and down.. here and there..", Her head lowers in bewilderment.
I walk behind her reaching to pull tbe towel free exposing her warm skin to the brusk air all around. Her nipples hardned as the cool breeze drifted pass. I let my hands graze her prickling skin as they made their way up to fully cup her breasts. Massaging them and kissing down the back of her neck. Sucking and Twisting. I let one breast go free as it bounced to rest in position while my hand slid down to her clit. Gentle circles drawing strained moans from her, she was resisting. "You like what I'm doing?" She doesn't respond. I feel her heating up to moisten in the area just shy of where my finger tips were. I grab her hips pulling her back to press against my body. Feeling the my hardness. My shaft rubbing up and down her ass and thigh I ask more sternly.. "Do you like this?" She refuses to answer. I let her free kneeling to retrieve the controls that dictate her stance and I stand In front of her. Waving the device. "I could crush you on to that wall behind you and watch your flesh tear apart".
"I can keep you here until the rooster calls and torture you with anything in this room.." I spin pointing to the chains and paddles, whips and bars hanging on every wall just out of her sight. "Or I can give you what you want.. and set you free". She yells out "What kind of joke is this?" I smile at her out pour. Moving swiftly to stand behind her. I jerk her head back and whisper "We're almost out of time". I push the button lowering her until she was the perfect height. Dropping the control and grabbing her from behind pulling her into me. My hands once again fondling her, this time more wildly. She had stiffened and I took my attention downward to penetrate her using my middle finger. "I'll have you before this night is over". I feel her twist and wrestle with the restraints until she feels me reach to withdraw my cock from the boxers I had been wearing. She wimpers.." please, please Nicholas. Stop!" I ignore her pleas and let.my cock slide between her lets teasing her clit. The head of my cock threatening to penetrate her slit at any moment I feel her unintentional arousal. "Yes, that's it" I moan as her pussy becomes more and more welcoming. I grind harder with my hands cupping her breats. Tweaking her nipples between my fingers.
Without warning, the next moment filled the air with her screams as I rammed my cock in hard. Her yelling in retort. Steadting her hips with one hand and using the other to grab a handful of hair I pumped harder, harder, longer, faster. Nothing she could say would stop me now. I was making her pay. I was making them all pay for the taking away of my childhood. She would be fucked and she would be fucked good. Her screams fade and I hollow my thoughts. She was tight and slick. I could feel her pulsing against my shaft. "That's right bitch. you like this don't you". As I am forcing my way in and out of her slit I can hear it again. The bells.
"What's that Mr. Fintch? Sound familiar?"
I was much taller now, much wiser and he no longer able to control me with his old age. Now 65 he was in no shape to fight back. The sound of the old town bell tolling once.. twice to signal that it was 12am. If you didn't know where your kids were by then they would be either dead or imprisoned by morning. For the torture I endured 18 years of my life he would soon be dead. Cut to pieces with my hack saw and my mother..
My mother could care less. She left me a long time ago promising to come back. Promising that this time he would let her take me with her. I pull Darlas head back harder as her screams catch in her throat. That bitch of a mother treated me like shit my whole life. I was never free to do anything, everything had to be done her way and her way only. She sold me. Sold me for her own freedom.
Her only son, her first born. I was angry, fuck that I was enraged. I pull out to circle Darla Lettg one leg from the restraints before dishing out my warning. "Squirm bitch and I'll fuck you in the ass", She fought. Or at least she tried Snapping her leg back which did little to stop me. In turn helping me to find an opening to slip between her legs holding the free leg in place wrapped around my waist. Entering her from the front. Slamming hard against her, "You think that you can just walk around and live the life that was meant for me?" She screams in pain as I slap her hard before grabbing her neck forcing her to look at me. "You made me do this".
Sure that was all my mother would say. The older I got, the more I questioned, why? Why had she given me away to this man?
"Why did you let him take me momma?"
"I told you about playing near that mans house, I would tell you over and over Nicholas baby, don't go don't play there. You were too much of a fucking idiot to listen now weren't you? I shielded you-"
"You sold me. You left and didn't look back. You started a family and you forgot me. You forgot about me Mom". The tears stung almost as bad as the tears. My mother had given me away to be held captive with a man we only knew on last name basis. But he knew more about Mom than anyone close to her ever would.
My mother told me that my father had run off with a younger woman and he did. The problem was neither of them would make it far. My mother said my father spat in her face. Treated her like some whore. He refused to come back the night she left me tucked in my bed as he returned to pack the rest of what made his life apart of ours. She begged, and pleaded but he hadn't given a second thought. "That boy is useless. you made him a wimpy little piece of shit. Your problem". That's what I was to him. A problem. And so it seems I became my mothers burden also. Her locking me into my room for weeks at a time only speaking to me when she brought in a plate of food she'd set on the bed before leaving again. Dicipline, that's what she called it. Dicipline for forgetting my shoes in the kitchen, dicipline for standing in the dooorway listening to her lie to the neighbors about why I couldn't come out. Dicipline for not being perfect. Dicipline for not being able to bring my father back.
What I didn't know is that my mother was more than a crazied, love sick woman. She was a murderer. The weeks had passed and I remember looking down on the cruisers sitting at the curb. They wanted to know where my father had gone since he and his mistress hadn't made it to her familys home nor called. No one had seen them since he sped off that morning. No one but mom.
I thought I was so clever coming up with my story of how I found the hidden car near Mr. Fintchs house. The truth is. He took me to it. He had been watching our house. watching me for years and it is true that my mother would tell me over to never go near him. There was just something in the way he stared that made her uneasy.
He looked at her as if he wanted to eat her alive she would say. There he was again on that very night. My mother stabbing my father to death on the lawn in a fit of rage. Struggling to put him into the back of that car. Mr. Fintch had agreed to help her to get rid of the body and the only witness that could trace him back to our home. The woman who had foolishly relaxed herself enough on the ride over to fall asleep in the front passenger seat. Now awake with stares of curiosity and fear as my mother stood covered in blood laying out the blue prints on how to get rid of my fathers body and his soon to be deceased, young slut.
Mr. Fintch convinced her that he had done it to make sure someone was here to take care of me. He hadnt yet mentioned that he intended for that person to be him. The day they argued in the kitchen my mother had a choice. Send me to be with my grandmother whom she never liked and go to jail to pay for her crime or give me away for what was supposed to be one day. To a man who had a desire to lay with young boys. I was seven years old when I was thrust into the world of torture and rape. Sodomy. My mother never came back to save me she just became a partner in the selling of my body to strange men, I was a way to make money. A way to fund her life with a new family. She needed it because now her belly began to swell with new life.
No one can miss a boy they never see. No one can ask where he or his father disappeared to. No one. They just forget to remember to ask until they don't ask at all. Fuck! I was fucked. and now so was Darla.
I moan out in ecstasy as my warm juices squirt deep into her. The slut who wanted it all. She wanted my throbbing cock inside of her and she got it. I had fucked her hard and she fell as limp as the restraints would allow. Still crying but I knew she had done it. She had cum squirting all over my dick as I fucked her. Her shaking leg wrapped around me as I held it in place. Thrusting up into her seeing her breast giggle with every pump. Moans of pain at times turning into cries of pleasure she wanted more and more until she had every inch of my cock buried deep inside of her. Until I had let the proof of my satisfaction coat her insides. Yeah, she was fucked, but I wasn't done with her yet. I take a few steps back letting the cool air dry me in the places that had been dripping with cum and sweat. She said nothing. Did nothing. "It's funny isn't it.." I begin. "Fuck you', Fuck you!", She yells. "You'd like that wouldn't you. For me to fuck you again? Wouldn't you? Maybe even take it up the ass this time eh? You fucking slut!" I spat the word out as I turned to find and reapply the clothes I had removed. Pulling my jeans up to my waist and snapping them into place before looking to see her watching me. Eyes full of rage with a hint of sorrow.
"It's funny that your body can betray you isn't it? That you can not want it to feel as good as it does. You can bite back on that fire burning inside of you but nothing can stop it". She lays her head back letting the light above shine down over her glistening breasts. "You wish for nothing more but for it to stop but it doesn't. They nip, and suck and pull.. your insides cry out because you want it, you need it. Then when it's all over. You feel-", "Lonely". She finishes. "Well look who has the bad habit now! How can you be so empty when you're now so full?" She hardly finds it amusing as I inch closer to place her leg back into it's restraint. "You have what you want. You got what you wanted now let me go, please!", she screams out before weeping gently. "No! I didn't get what I wanted you got what you wanted. You wanted it remember? You brought that tight little ass here wearing that dress. You prepped, painting your nails and your toes because you wanted me to look at you and take you. Me! My cock up your fucking ass not the other way around. I just wanted a trade". She looks up confused. I walk over to the table by the door and picked up my choice tool of torture. "I wanted to teach you something I learned at a very young age".
Glancing up at the clock I realize that we were just moments away. She screams and cries as loud as her torn vocals could allow. My fear fleeting slightly, in a controlled tone, "I told you to save the adrenaline for when it really matters. Now you're too hoarse to yell", I saunter towards her. My gait slow and taunting. "What is the trade?" I stop. "What do you mean?" My smile grimace eyes low and full of poison. "What is your fucking trade?"
I begin again, coming towards her as the bell outside begins to toll. "Oh, don't you love that sound?" She begins spitting and cursing as I walk now with more determination until I reach her. Face to face. She whispers, "What is your trade, Nicholas?". I smile at the terror in her eyes. How it reminds me of myself in this very room in this very house suffering while our mother gave her everything she denied me lifting my hand just out of her sight jumping up swiftly stabbing her through the neck with a nail. One nail from the collection of nails I kept from the wooden box I used to bury my own mother in. The box that lay just under the soft dirt that pushed up the leaves of mint in my garden. Yes, she was lying in front of my home.. THE home that she had come to so many times to sell and sell again my body to the rich, the young and the old. Two precious little girls, our mothers dream. Darla was everything to our mother. Nothing like me. She couldn't be sold couldn't be forgotten..
"She can't be the one you blame, Nicholas. I let you down. I gave you away..", Pauline's voice now weak and suffering as I stand over the man who had started it all. We could have been happy if it wasn't for him. He wanted my body and he took it whenever he wanted, howver he wanted and now he would pay. Pauline and her precious little dolls Lilly and Darla.. And him.
He who lay chopped into little pieces like beef. Simmering in the spices of my mothers recipe. Serving his role as the last meal of them all. I will have my trade for the long list of pedophiles who took from me and gave nothing. My trade, my trade..
"Pain for pleasure"
© Copyright 2017 Krea Liz. All rights reserved.
Poem / Non-Fiction
Poem / Romance
Poem / Romance