Playette

by T. L Smith

  She stirs, those beautiful green eyes look up to me. She goes to move but nothing happens. She struggles and pulls on the bindings, but they are too tight for her to be able to loosen. There’s no way she’s shifting an inch or getting away from me.

  “Jasper.” She calls my name.

  I sit next to her, my fingers playing on her belly then up between her breasts as I pull out the knife she has hidden between them. Her eyes go wide at my finding it, and when I do I cut the shirt and jacket from her body, so her tits are free and all she has on is her jeans.

  “I hope you aren’t fond of your clothing, Isadora.” The knife glides ever so slowly down her bare skin until it reaches her belly button. “Honestly, I thought your name would be fake, I was surprised to learn you gave me your real one.”

  “I like my name. I’m named after my grandmother.”

  “I like it, too, Isadora. Now what do I do with you?”

  “Guess that’s up to you, now, isn’t it?”

  “What would you do, Isadora?”

  She tries to lean up but she can’t and it frustrates her so she pulls at her bindings. “I would kill you all,” she shouts, then smiles and lays her head back.

  “You see… now I know that’s a lie. Because you had the chance to kill Carter and you didn’t take it. I know you know how to, you’re actually quite good at it. Who would have thought to carry out the murders of my men using that method? Was it you, or the uncle? Who’s the bright spark in this so-called relationship of yours?”

  “Me,” she says proudly.

  “I thought so.” The knife slides to her jeans and I start cutting. Her jeans tear easily with how sharp this small paring knife is and soon she’s lying on the bed naked. “It’s perfect really to have you like this. In the same place I killed him.”

  She looks around. “Is this?” She tries to arch her back to get off the bed but once again the bindings hold tighter, the knots I used will only tighten the more she struggles. I can see her hands losing their blood supply. “Oh my God… am I on his bed?” Her eyes go wide and her top lip lifts a little like it disgusts her.

  “Quite poetic isn’t it, when you think about it?”

  “Jasper, you don’t love me. You can’t, to put me here.”

  I shake my head. “Don’t I?” I ask while sitting back and gazing over her naked body. “No woman’s sent me bat-shit crazy as much as you have. Why is that, I wonder?”

  “Because I hold your interest.”

  “I kill those I love, Isadora. So you should hope that it’s simply infatuation. But I’m having my doubts. I knew you were special from the first night I met you, and then when I kissed you I knew I’d want more, and that hasn’t changed. I still want you, even now as I find out you killed my men and have betrayed me. The single two worst things you can do to me.”

  “You destroyed me,” she yells with tears streaming down her cheeks. “Destroyed me! Now kill me, so we can get this over with.”

  I lean down and lick the tears which have trickled down her cheeks, she turns away so her lips aren’t accessible to me. Gripping her face hard, I turn her back to me, taking each and every one of them, savoring every moment. She’s worth savoring.

  “I can’t. Not yet anyway.”

  She doesn’t look at me. I climb over her body, so I’m sitting on top of her as I drop the knife on the bed while my fingers start to circle the shape of her breast. Then they circle her nipples. They snap to attention in small taut buds, all the while she’s looking away not wanting to make eye contact with me.

  “You really do fascinate me,” I tell her, running my fingers down her belly until I reach her pussy. Touching the outside, running my fingers up her slit, she squirms, so I dip my finger in just a touch and I can feel her warmth.

  “I hate you,” she mumbles.

  “I know,” I say back while leaning down, holding her face with my free hand, turning it to look at me, and I kiss her lips as I insert a long finger inside her.

  She moans into my mouth, her legs pull against the restraints, but that only helps me to open them even more.

  I kick my trousers off as I lift up from her lips and touch my cock. Pumping it a few times, as she watches my every move, even as I slide it between her legs. And as I do they part automatically for me this time. Now they are out as far as they can go considering she’s tied, and I slide straight inside of her.

  It’s pure fucking magic.

  She is pure fucking magic.

  It’s going to be hard to kill her.

  Sliding in and out, and claiming her kisses, Isadora doesn’t speak or say another word, but she lets me claim her and she enjoys every second of it.

  Isadora may hate me, but she craves me as much as I crave her.

  “Fuck you,” she says as I push in a lot harder.

  “I am… fucking you.” I push in again then lean down to bite her nipple. Hard. I leave my mark there, and go to the next doing the same. She feels like everything I have ever wanted. She’s the place you dream of moving to. She is my place.

  “I hate you,” she cries out in pleasure.

  “You said that already, it’s getting boring,” I remind her as I continue to fuck her.

  The door opens and her eyes shift straight to it, but I continue my rhythm as though nothing in this world is worth stopping this heaven for.

  She’s worth a thousand suns and to kill her will extinguish all light.

  18

  Isadora

  He pushes in, and out, not stopping at all, not allowing me any rest or the ability to catch my breath while Ace stands in the doorway. Ace’s eyes go from me to Jasper, who’s between my legs and there isn’t a thing I can do about it. The fucked-up thing is I don’t want him to stop because it feels too damn good. And I know this is probably the only pleasure I’ll get for a long while or before I’m dead.

  “Boss, you’re needed.”

  Jasper turns to look at Ace with a smile on his face as he pauses inside of me.

  Damn! I was so close. So close I can’t help myself and lift my pelvis to make his cock move inside of me again.

  “Are you jealous, Ace?” Jasper moves at an agonizing slow pace.

  “Yes, sir,” Ace replies. Ace’s eyes come back to me, and so do Jasper’s.

  “Maybe I will let you fuck her.”

  My eyes go wide.

  “Would you like that, Isadora, two cocks in you?”

  My mind’s screaming at me to say no.

  I should say no, right?

  “Look at that, Ace. She isn’t sure.” Jasper pushes in and then back out, then he leans down so our lips are touching. “I don’t share, Isadora, you will learn that fact.”

  When I look back to where Ace was standing, he’s gone. It’s now just Jasper and myself yet again.

  “You’re fucked-up, you know that?”

  “Oh, darling, I know. It’s perfect, and you know why? Because you’re just as fucked as me. The perfect pair, surely.”

  I shake my head.

  He pushes in harder and faster, his pace picking up. If I had the movement of my legs I’d wrap them around him right now. Instead, I bite my bottom lip as the orgasm hits me and it hits me hard.

  He crashes his lips onto mine to stop the moan that wants to leave. However, I can’t kiss him back because I feel almost paralyzed, my body being taken over by the intensity of the orgasm.

  Jasper is by far the best lover I’ve ever had. I think he’s aware of that fact as well. He gets delight out of my pain, but also from my pleasure.

  He’s a giver, and I love to take.

  When he pulls back, his cock slides out of me. Jasper kneels between my open legs looking down with a smirk so deadly I almost lose my breath when he drops his head between my legs and kisses my clit then punishes it with his tongue. I squirm around on the bed, an orgasm building quickly again from his touch, and just before I head over the precipice he stops. A kiss is all I get before he looks at me with our sex all over his lips.


  “This is the perfect place to say our goodbye. Don’t you think, Isadora? Fucking you on the bed that I killed my father in? Yep, it’s poetic at best.” He climbs off the bed and walks over to his jeans, pulls them back on, and I watch as he tucks his cock back in. And when he’s fully dressed, he walks to the door and looks back at me. “It’s probably time you start praying.” Then without another word he shuts the door as he leaves.

  I can feel his cum leaking out of me.

  Did he do that on purpose? Mark me one last time?

  I pull on the restraints hoping that I can somehow slip my hand through, but it’s tied tight and all I can feel is pins and needles as I keep on trying. Pulling on my feet, I come to the same conclusion. I’m fucked.

  A scream echoes through the house and I wonder what they’re doing to my uncle or if maybe that was him dying. I really hope not. Despite him never loving me, he’s the only family I have left, and I don’t want him to die.

  My eyes become heavy, but I’m afraid to fall asleep. What will I find if I wake up, and that’s a big if I wake up. He could kill me in my sleep, and I would be none the wiser, I don’t think that’s Jasper’s way, though. From everything I’ve learned about him he’s not impulsive. He thinks hard about everything he does. Everything I’ve studied about him is that he’s a man of deliberate action. Dangerous. More so than his father. People speak of him as if he’s a warrior. He’s fearless and they’re too afraid to say his name. I should’ve listened to the whispers back then, but that wouldn’t have helped my cause, though. My heart starts pounding and my vision blurs, fear takes root in my core and I wonder how I will ever get out of this situation or if this will be my end.

  Turning my head to the side, I check around the room. I’m on a four-poster bed. It’s large. The room smells like a storage unit, just like it should do seeing as obviously no one comes in here. Maybe that’s the way he likes it. The room’s empty and plain.

  Right in front of me, where a television should sit is a large picture of a woman with light brown hair, tinges of sun-kissed blonde streaks through it. She’s in a short dress, it’s white, and in her arms is a small baby. I wonder if this is his mother in the photograph. She’s certainly perceived as a caring woman, looking down at her baby with a smile so bright it’s dazzling. I can see Jasper in her features, his high cheekbones definitely come from her. Turning my head away from the picture that’s full of lies, I see the room is painted in a light blue almost aqua with splashes or flecks of gold through it. It’s unlike the rest of the house which is a plain cream. This room, and the size of this room, it was designed for a king and his queen. From the top of the bedposts, which are gold, to the gold flicking on the walls.

  To the left is a large open closet with clothes still hanging in there—men’s suits.

  My eyes become heavy and I can’t keep them open for a second longer. Sex usually puts me to sleep, and it’s trying to do so right now.

  Even with my sore wrists and tied ankles, I manage to close my eyes and dream of a life I once had—braided hair, sunlight kisses, and looks of pure devotion from parents who would do anything for me.

  I dream of them.

  And what was taken away from me.

  “Momma,” I scream. She comes running out the shop, her eyes searching frantically. Her hair so long I wish mine would grow like that. I’m fourteen, and my boobs are only just starting to form.

  “What’s wrong?” She checks around and I look down between my legs, her eyes go wide. “Oh, sweet girl, it’s okay.”

  My head starts to shake back and forth. “It’s not. I’m bleeding and I have a date. My first one, ever,” I scream.

  “It’s okay, Isadora. Trust me. It’s what happens when you become a woman.” Her fingers brush my messy hair back from my face, and she pulls me in for a hug and I smell her, she smells of cakes and pastries. It’s what she always smells like. She’s one of the best cooks and the prettiest.

  “I’m already a woman,” I tell her pulling away.

  “Of course, you are, my dear.” She reaches for my hand and pulls me to the back of the bakery.

  My father smiles at me despite looking down and seeing blood all over my white trousers.

  “Run upstairs and grab a washcloth, some new clothes and panties and come back down. I have some things I need to teach you.” I do as Momma says, running up the stairs and getting everything she asked for. I find my favorite dress, clutching it in my hands, I run back down the stairs.

  Voices are the first thing I hear. They stop me on the second to last step. I’m frozen in position unable to move.

  My mother’s voice is high-pitched and it’s got a tone to it I’m not really sure of, which stops me from going any further.

  “Please. Please, I beg of you, just leave.” She’s pleading with someone.

  My hands clutch the railing as my foot touches the last step.

  “That can’t happen.”

  I don’t know that voice, it’s strong, though. It’s not my father’s, whose voice follows. “You can’t. This is all wrong. You can’t do this.”

  Upon hearing his voice, I step around the corner, and a hand touches my shoulder pulling me back as the first bang goes off. I watch in absolute horror as my mother drops to the floor—a man standing in front of her with a gun in his hand and a smile on his face.

  “No.” My father screams dropping to the floor, touching her face, which isn’t moving.

  “Kid, run.” I’m pushed as another loud bang sounds.

  I don’t know what to do.

  My legs still have blood on them, there’s fresh clothes in my hands and they stay there as I start to move.

  My eyes spring open and I can’t help the tears that leave them as they fall freely down my cheeks remembering that day, the worst of my life. My parents loved each other more than I could ever dream of. They loved me with a fierceness that I’m afraid I will never experience again.

  It breaks my heart.

  All over again.

  Every time I think of them, my heart shatters a little more.

  “Your tears are like music to my soul. I want them all the time.” Jasper sits on the floor, against the door with his knees up, as he watches me.

  “Why am I waking up?” I ask, not even bothering to make an excuse for the fact that I’m crying.

  “Because I choose it.”

  “Just do it already. What pleasure do you get from this?” I ask, waiting for him to tell me why.

  He pushes up from his seated position, and turns to walk out the door. “I’m still trying to work myself up to it, Isadora. Killing you is proving to be harder than I thought, and it won’t be one of my finer moments,” he says as he walks out. His words hurt, more than they should. I should have been easy to kill, he should have been easy to kill. But our emotions have come into play, and no matter how much I try to deny all of them, they are there and evident. Now, if I could only slow my pounding heart when he enters a room, or dry my hands, sweaty with the need to touch him, this could be so much easier.

  19

  Jasper

  Have you seen an angel sleep? I have, and what a fucking angel she is.

  I came into the room with a purpose in mind—to kill her.

  It’s an easy task. I’ve killed people as easily as I breathe. It’s natural to me. It is, after all, what my father taught me to do. Who he wanted me to be.

  I’m exactly what my mother beat into me.

  When I walk back into the room she’s asleep again. Isadora’s tears are dried on her cheeks as I sit down next to her. Running my hand down her bare leg, I start to untie her one leg at a time. When she’s free, I lift and carry her to my father’s bathroom, turning the shower on and placing her on the floor. She wakes as I climb in fully clothed and sit behind her, holding her to me. When she starts to move, my arms lock firmly around her body.

  “I need to pee,” she states.

  “Pee then. The shower will wash it away.”
>
  Her body relaxes into mine as the water becomes warmer. I push her hair back and kiss her neck until she falls into me.

  “I still hate you,” she says.

  “I know,” I reply. “I know.”

  Tears fall freely now.

  Reaching for the shampoo I start to wash her hair as she lays back on my chest and then rinse it out. She stays where she is not moving. Grabbing the loofah, I wash her body, around her tits and down to her pussy until she’s all clean and smelling like magnolia blossoms.

  “She would tie me up, in her bathroom… and whip the fuck out of me as if I was a damn toy. With a bottle of wine in her hand and a whip in the other. Her father was a master with the whip and taught her how to use it effectively. She was brilliant… in so many ways,” I tell her then kiss her neck.

  “How can you say that?”

  I shrug. “Sometimes you have to look beyond the hurt to see something else. I saw it in her. Always did, even on that fateful day.”

  “I watched my mother die in front of me. I wasn’t meant to, I don’t think,” she tells me, but I already know her story. However, I’ll let her tell me anyway.

  “Maybe you weren’t meant to,” I tell her. “Maybe that’s what made you the woman you are today? You needed that strength, and that strength came from witnessing what happened to your family.”

  Her head starts shaking back and forth. “No, I don’t believe you. Watching the people you love be murdered… ah fuck! The hurt does nothing but break your soul and tear your heart into pieces.” Isadora pushes up and away from me, she’s standing looking down at me while I’m still fully clothed. “You’re incapable of love. And that’s not your fault, Jasper. That shit’s the fault of your mother not showing you how love is meant to be.” She takes a deep breath and her tits rise as she does. “My mother showed me what love is. I was given that and more, but it was violently taken from me.” She steps out of the shower, as if I’ve given her permission to do so.