That Which Destroys Me (13 page)

His hands span my waist and he hauls me up causing me to yelp before gently lying me down on the bed. He walks around to the other side until he’s at my head, “Arms, angel.” I raise my arms and lay them above my head. His fingers circle both wrists before I feel silky material slithering around them and tighten, binding them together then anchoring them securely to the bed.

The position pulls my shoulders further back into the mattress, pushing my breasts out to a Russian salute. I close my eyes and listen as his bare feet pad across the hardwood floor.

When I feel the silk material being tied around my right ankle and then anchored spreading me open it evokes panic to jolt through me and thrum through my veins. The panic causes me to struggle for breath.

The palpable change in me seems to go unnoticed by Wesley, his movements never pausing as he continues binding my left ankle to the opposite side of the bed, spreading me even wider.

He walks until he is standing directly over me before a smile curls his lips, “Perfectly flayed— bare open for my eyes to see, and visually worship every delicious curve and line of your exquisite fucking body.”

I can barely make his words out around the sound blood rushing in my ears.

A mantra, or chant starts battering it’s way around inside my mind:
I can’t do this. I can’t do this. Make him stop, tell him to stop. I can’t fucking do this, say it! Scream it goddamn it! RUST!

“Shhh… Ms. Reese, open you eyes and look at me right this second.” I clench my eyes tighter, and pull my lips into my mouth before biting down on them and shaking my head back and forth. My chest is heaving, my nose flaring, I can’t breathe. There isn’t enough oxygen.

I can’t do this. I can’t do this. Tell him to stop. I can’t fucking do this, say it! Scream it! RUST!

SMACK! My eyes fly open and I gasp, pulling blessed air into my lungs. He just slapped the fuck out of my… “Did you just slap my pussy? Did you just open-palm slap the fuck out of my pussy?!”

His face mirrors the devils with that wicked damn grin dancing across as he slides his hands from my ankles to the inside of my thighs before he looping each thigh over his arms and bringing his face an inch away from my core. His hands rest on my abdomen and he glances down before his shoulders nudge me completely exposed, “It fucking worked, didn’t it? You piped the fuck down.” He growls through his teeth before licking me, splitting my bare folds wide open.

“Holy shit!” I cry out. My head pushes into the mattress and my neck arches bringing my back clear off the bed. His fingers link across my lower belly and his hands still my lower half from bucking away from his talented tongue. He shoves his tongue inside me before swirling it around and lapping up the wetness caused by his brilliantly skilled mouth. When his teeth and lips clamp down around my clit and suck it into his mouth my vision fucking tunnels.

I vaguely hear myself moaning the words, “Oh my God!” His finger slides inside of me knuckle deep and crooks, thrusting in sync with the rhythm of his tongue sucking and flicking my sensitive clit.

“Gawddammit!” The scream rips from my throat as sheer, unmitigated euphoria swallows me whole, pulling me further under than ever before.

Seconds, minutes, hell hours could’ve passed before I feel myself surfacing. However long it was, it was long enough for Wesley to release me from my silken restraints and turn me onto my stomach.

His fingertips bite into the flesh of my hips before he raises my ass up, “Jesus fucking Christ, Stella.” He groans before shoving his head between my legs from behind, I feel his nose between my ass cheeks as his tongue swipes, lapping up cum from my pussy. His hot breath puffs against my swollen wet flesh, “If pussy were a food, and I could live off cunt alone I would never leave this fucking table, I swear to Christ.”

He moves, standing behind me to his full height before leaning down, “One more fucking taste,” He licks me from clit to asshole then grasps my hips, bruising them with his massive hands. “Now.” His hands slide from my hips and smoothly circle each globe of my ass before running them slowly up my back, his tongue follows in his hands wake circling and tracing each of my vertebrae until his hands meet my shoulders and grip them tightly.

His mouth stops between my shoulder blades and he roughly whispers against my skin, “Now, Ms. Reese,” his stomach muscles tense and I feel his cock slide between my ass cheeks before thrusting back and forth. When he stops he uses his torso to align the head of his cock at my entrance, “I’m going to fuck,” He wraps my hair around his fist and pulls my head back, “The goddamn hell out of you. Understood?”

The head of his cock pushes in only to immediately be pulled out. “Yes.” I try to nod but his grip in my hair tightens as he wraps it around his fist a second time. “Y-yes, sir.” The words fall out as I moan and try to push myself back against him.

I barely have ‘sir’ out of my mouth before he slams into me to the hilt. A piercing shriek is ripped from my throat causing him to still, the hands fisted around my hair and gripping my shoulder allow me no room for movement. I’m shocked when I feel tears bite the back of my eyelids. Wesley’s lips brush kisses between my shoulder blades before whispering, “You’ve been bent, but you’ve not yet broken, angel. Yes or No. Rust?”

Around a ragged moan I reply, “No, fuck no rust.” I rock back against him as much I possibly can trying to urge him to move.

I’ve never felt so utterly complete in all my life, at the same time completely split in two.

Pain and pleasure blend their colors, pride and humiliation lose their importance. All I care about and all I ever want I have right now in this moment, and I’ll beg to keep it, “Please, Wesley, baby, please.” I push back with every ounce of strength I own trying to create the friction I need and it causes the hairs to snap from their roots at the nape of my neck.

“You trying to fuck that cock, angel? Huh? You better not be trying to twist control away from me.” He removes the hand he has my left shoulder gripped in before landing an open palmed slap across my right ass cheek. “Now—I fucking break you.”

He grunts pulling almost completely out before thrusting back in, slamming into me over and over. “So fucking tight, angel. Fucking hell, yes. Goddamn it, you’re so fucking tight.” Both hands release their hold on me causing me to fall forward, and before I can get my hands under me to push up he circles my wrists with his fingers, bringing them both to the small of my back, he uses them as leverage and commences fucking the ever living hell out of me.

Instantly I feel the beginning tugs blur into forceful pulls, pushing me towards the edge. “Oh God, yes, Wesley, fuck that feels so good.”

With one hand he anchors both wrists securing them behind my back before bringing his other hand up to grab my shoulder. He growls the words between his uninterrupted thrusts, “You.” Thrust. “Do.” Thrust. “Not.” Thrust. “Cum.” Thrust. “Until.” Thrust. “I.” Thrust. “Say.” Thrust.

Speaking is beyond my scope of abilities. The pulls of ecstasy increase into yanks and shoves over the brink… I know he expects me to not only speak the answer but to obey his command, however my overwhelming disability has me in a position to conquer neither feat. Moans and mewls are all that I’m capable of as stars and Christmas lights spot my vision. I feel my body begin to convulse and use the last wisp of strength I possess to refrain but almost instantly I feel it snap, hurdling me over.

Wesley’s hands slide up and tighten around my throat, my back arches from the sheer force of his thrusts. When I realize he’s choking me, cutting off access to much needed oxygen panic seizes me, and my hands fly to his at the same time he yanks me up onto my knees, stabbing into me harder and faster, I claw at his hands not caring that I’m breaking skin. The wetness of blood makes it difficult but still I continue attempting to claw his hands from my throat.

“I will fucking choke you out before you cum if I have to, but you will NOT cum until I SAY you cum.” His hips are lunging erratically and his hold around my neck tightens. “NOW. FUCKING BREAK GODDAMN YOU!”

His control is snapping, so much it’s tangible, I can physically feel it snap. I somehow gasp a breath in and slam my body back at him, meeting him punishing thrust for punishing thrust. I stifle the orgasm barreling its way through me and with my last reserves of strength and dignity I spit the words out, “I DON’T BREAK, MOTHERFUCKER!”

BAM! I’m instantly on my back being jerked to the edge of the bed, Wesley yanks my ankles on to the top of his shoulders before gripping my waist and impaling me onto his cock.

His mouth crushes mine, each of his hands delicately cup my jaw as our mouths and tongues devour each other, he continues pounding into me as if his very life depends on it.

His green eyes lock with mine and he harshly growls, “Fucking cum on my cock, you little cumslut. NOW!”

My body responds urgently to his verbal demand and I throw myself, plunging over the precipice. Shutters rack through me causing my frame to convulse inside and out. I cum. HARD.

Wes slams into me balls deep… I hold onto to him, my nails scoring his back and cum again around his cock as his arms shake. I use every muscle in my pussy to grip and milk every drop of his hot cum inside me.

Only one thought flits through my mind before consciousness abruptly leaves me.

I’ll be damned… I may be a shitty sub, but Wes was right— A sub I am.

Chapter 15

Monsters in the Dark

I have watched from the shadows for as long as I can remember. As a child I watched for nothing more than a cure for boredom and dejection. Friends and family never held much importance with me. I tired very early on in life of daydreaming and people watching at nearby parks.

The picnics and tug of war I’d yearned for while watching families and friends interact had lost their appeal when I finally, at the ripe young age of eight, gave into the sadistic demons that had lived just below the surface since my very first memory.

The more I fed the demons the more their hunger expanded.

I started slow and small. Tricks and traps set up for my intended victims. Vaseline on the top step as I sat still in the shadows to watch as my forth grade teacher’s feet slip out from beneath her before falling hard down the stair well. The great thud sounding out after her screams stopped signaling the end.

Tricks and traps didn’t feed the demons for long. They wanted blood and they wanted it badly.

As a young boy, I never spoke and made sure to always blend in. If one were to ever recall my presence or a memory at best, they might recall a quiet boy in the background reading—nothing more.

Honestly, the only person that knew I wasn’t mute was myself. Sometimes even I had to hum for less than a second while utterly alone in order to verify that I indeed had a voice. It was just one I didn’t see any need for.

When the neighbor’s brakes gave out and she barreled into the busy intersection at the end of our street. No one noticed the boy hiding in the tree watching as Ms. Wilson was pulled the rest of the way through her windshield, practically in pieces.  

That was my first attempt at jerking off in a tree. That day was a win-win in more ways than I would have ever imagined.

The demons basked in their fulfillment as I went to read and study anything and everything I could get my hands on.

Astronomy, Geography, History, Biology and Algebra—They were my friends. I saw no need for human friends. Humans do nothing but take from each other. My friends, they did nothing but feed me, inform me, I gained more from my friends than you have ever gained from yours.

Though I loved my friends, it was Anatomy and Physiology that truly stole my breath away. When a ten year old boy stumbles across something as astounding as Anatomy and Physiology, something unexplainable occurs. For me, while reading and studying the subjects, learning the incredible give and take, cause and effect in its most fundamental state—the epithelial cell, the nerve cell, the muscle cell, the blood cell, THEY were the gospels in my mind. And Anatomy and Physiology were the bible.

I devoured any and every book affiliated with human science until I was certain if given the chance, I could end one person’s life with the knowledge I’d acquired and revive another if I truly applied myself.

And then? I studied even more.

I was somewhere in metastatic cancer, wholly enthralled with this cell, this singular fantastic cell that belonged with all the other cells, and no matter its cell ranking, be it an adipose cell or a neuron cell, it stepped out of line and walked away. It altered its course and went from just a cell to an abnormal cell, recruiting other dying cells to revolt, to begin a revolution in the form of a malignant tumor. All they would have to do is reach the lymphatic system, and then…checkmate.

It was her sad laughter that pulled me from the cell spell I was under. Her laugh was so incredibly melancholy it tore at my heart. After hiding my books away, curiosity led me from my window to the roof, where I continued hopping from tree limb to tree house and settling in the shadows and low hung branches atop the old abandoned shed in my backyard. Her hair was the color of real maple syrup. It was long and shiny, the breeze brushed the strands from in front of her face. I’d never seen anyone beautiful before, not even once in all my eleven years.