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He leans in and kisses me. I try to turn my head away from him, but he tightens his grip on my throat, keeping me from moving. He continues to grope my breast for a moment, and then his hand slowly starts to go back down my chest to my stomach. I struggle against him, but it doesn’t stop him. He tightens his grip on my throat, cutting off my airway.
His hand continues to move down my stomach until he pushes between my thighs, and he slowly moves his fingers through my folds. I scream against his lips as he starts to massage my heat with his thumb. My stomach tightens more as his fingers move down towards my entrance.
He pulls back and looks me right in the eyes as he pushes a finger into my entrance. I yank whatever holds my wrists as hard as I can, and I open my mouth and scream, but nothing I do seems to work. The man looks down at me, and a smile forms across his face. He pushes in a second finger, stretching me, making it sting. He pushes in a third finger and starts to move in and out of me steadily and slowly. His eyes never leave me as he massages my sensitive area with his thumb, and his fingers continue moving in and out of me.
I try to move away from him, and I try and close my legs, but nothing works. The man releases his grip on my throat, and I suck in a deep breath. He removes his fingers from inside me, lifts them to his mouth, and sucks on them, humming. I gag again as my stomach twists and my heart pounds in my chest.
He smiles against his fingers and removes them from his mouth. He stands up and unbuttons and unzips his pants, moving to the end of the bed. When he gets to the end of the bed, he pulls down his pants and boxers and slowly crawls onto the bed and between my legs. I try twisting, yanking, and struggling as much as I can with whatever is holding me in place. I try to close my legs again, but nothing I do works as the man continues getting closer to me.
The man crawls up the bed and between my legs. He grabs tightly onto my legs, making me scream again. He lowers his head between my legs, his lips kiss my private area, and his tongue slowly goes between my folds. My stomach tightens as his tongue licks me, stopping at my entrance. His tongue enters me, and his entire mouth is on me. He lifts his hands; one hand grabs my breast, and the other is holding onto my throat again.
He continues to massage my breast as his tongue claims me while tears fall from my eyes. I slam them shut. My heart is beating so fast it feels like it might come out of my chest. He lifts his head from between my legs and starts kissing his way up my body, then slams his lips to mine. My scream enters his mouth as he releases my breast but tightens his hand on my throat. He reaches down between us, grabs onto his penis, and puts the head at my entrance. He pulls back and looks down at me, his eyes search mine, and there is nothing but darkness in his eyes.
“Now be my good little puppet and take my fucking cock,” he whispers as he pushes himself inside me stretching me. My stomach tightens as another scream leaves me. He releases his penis and grabs onto my leg as he starts to move in and out of me.
He starts to pick up his pace, causing the pain to increase.
“Your such a good little puppet, your pussy will soon crave my cock,” the man says with confidence, making me gag again with his words. He continues to pick up his pace, causing the bed to hit the wall, which only makes him smile and push in harder and harder into me like I am nothing; like I am his.
He leans in, his lips almost touching mine, “Scream for me, puppet. I want to hear you scream and see those tears roll down your face showing me I am taking what is mine. You are fucking mine, and there is no escaping me now,” he says through gritted teeth as he slams into me, and the scream leaves my lips as my entire body shakes from the pain and his words.
He bends his head and kisses my lips again. He swallows the whimper that leaves me. It stings and hurts so badly, but he continues to push in and out of me, stretching me more and more with each motion. His motion starts to speed up, causing my entire body to shake; another scream leaves me as my mind tries to process what is happening to me right now.
He pulls back and looks at me in the eyes again. “Welcome home, puppet,” he states darkly.
2
Christian
Ihave looked for her countless times, and there have been numerous times I have found myself back at the coffee shop where I saw her for the first time, heard her voice for the first time, and felt her skin for the first time. For the past six months, I have looked for her everywhere, and still, I haven’t been able to find her. It is honestly starting to piss me off. My brain is on this never-ending fucking loop, and I can’t focus on anything else, only fucking her.
Wherever my criminal activity takes me, whenever my business deals take me, I constantly scan over the crowd of women, and it is only her face I see, but it really isn’t her. It doesn’t stop my mind, heart, and soul from searching for her. My men think I am crazy, and maybe I am. She has taken over my dreams, my emotions, and my fucking daily thoughts. That day in front of the coffee shop changed everything. At the time, my mind, body, heart, and soul didn’t fucking realize what she had already become to me.
The moment she ran into me, and I heard her voice, I saw her face, and I felt her skin against mine; she had already become mine. People in my world don’t do things the same as ordinary people do, whatever the fuck normal means. A normal fucking man would not be obsessed with a girl he doesn’t even fucking know. But then again, I am not a fucking normal man.
My deep inner thoughts told me to protect her from me, from my world. The only way that would happen is by walking away, so that is exactly what I did, and now I fucking regret it. My heart tells me the choice I made that day was wrong. The craziest part of all of this shit is my eyes saw her once, my ears heard her once, my skin felts her fucking once, and now I know I will not stop until I fucking find her and make her mine. This tells me that not only is the world we live in fucking crazy but so am I.
I walk down the hallway towards the basement door and take a steading breath before I turn the doorknob and open the door. As soon as I swing the door open, I can hear the man screaming at the top of his motherfucking lungs. Guess he shouldn’t have tried to steal from my family. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so stupid to actually think he could get away with screwing us.
My Padre isn’t here; I don’t know where he is, which means it is my job once again to send a fucking message to people that think they can go against my family. Most people know who we are, most people know who I am, but some people are still fucking stupid. They still try pulling one over on us, thinking they will be smarter than the last guy.Wesell the dope and the weapons, and we don’t like it when our customers try and resell our shit without our permission. You want to deal for us fine; you want to do it behind our backs and keep all the money, now that is not something we will fucking tolerate.
I force myself down the same stairs leading to the place where I have spent most of my time. The basement has turned into our torture chamber, or maybe it is more of my torture chamber. Either way, my time is often spent down here, making people scream, cry and beg. Padre says he is proud of me and the man I am today, but I don’t see what he sees. When I look in the mirror, all that stares back at me is a fucking monster. A monster my Padre wanted to create me into; well, he got what he wanted because there is no going back. The boy who used to stare back at me in the mirror is dead, and what is left is a murderer—someone who is heartless and cold.
The day the girl locked eyes with me at the coffee shop, she didn’t look away; instead, she searched my eyes. She didn’t turn away from my touch; I felt her wanting to lean into me. She is the only person who has ever looked at me that way.
I take another deep breath as I open the door to the room that smells like fear and blood. There is a man hanging from the chains in the middle of the room, only wearing blue ripped pants. His chest and face are covered in blood. My men have done well so far.
I roll up my sleeves to my black button-up shirt as I approach the hanging man. “Tell me, was it worth it?” I ask softly as I stop in front of him.
The man looks at me; his right eye is swollen shut, his nose is bleeding, and his lower lip is cut. “I said I was sorry,” he says softly, telling me he is tired. My men had already questioned him, and they didn’t like what he had to say.
I shake my head, and my heart races like it does every time before I kill a man. “Sorry. Do you think that makes all of this go away? You can’t be that fucking stupid,” I snap back. There are a million things I would rather be doing right now, and listening to his excuses and empty words is not fucking one of them.
The man shakes his head at me as he looks me over. Every man does the same thing before they die, their brain trying to find the right things to say so they don’t die. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” the man says shakily.
“Well, at least you are being fucking honest,” I reply. Will honesty help him? Fuck no, but I respect it.
One of my Padre’s men walks over and hands me a knife; a gun is quick and to the point. A knife, on the other hand, allows you to feel their pain, and I want to feel his pain. I have become addicted to the violence and chaos of this life. I don’t just want to hear their scream; I want to fucking feel their pain. I want to watch the hope leave their eyes as it finally sinks in that they are about to die, and when the light leaves their eyes, it’s all like a fucking drug.
