“We never split up.”
“We come as a pair or not at all,” I mutter, understanding what I’ve done. “I need to get to the castle. Will you be able to help me?”
“My job is in serving The Mistress and her wishes,” he says, wearing his heart on his sleeve and grabbing his backpack. “I just can’t believe she walked off with Twig.”
Dipping his finger in the icing, Zig questions, “Or that Twig walked off with her?”
“Probably both.” Sig’s eyes brim with tears, but he refuses to let them fall. “It is my pleasure to escort you to the kingdom, El.”
“Thank you, Sig.”
We take the path opposite from The Mistress. The lush foliage brings on trepidation with its grim, dark purple leaves, and massive, haunting trees serving as a canopy. We’re a reasonable distance from the clearing when I turn to Sig and Zig with a newfound determination. “I don’t want to wait for victory because there may not be one. I don’t want to die a virgin.”
With a side-eyed glance to Sig, Zig mutters, “… Is she serious?”
“Yes.”
“What are we going to do?” Sig’s intense moss eyes show no signs of an answer, but the flip of his belt buckle sends a shiver through my bones. “Sig…you can’t.”
Sig glances at him. “… You want to watch me?”
“While the idea is slightly appealing, you know the rules.”
“What are you going to do?” He rips the belt from his pants with a flick of his wrist. The leather snaps with a warning as my eyes dart between the two. I feel the tension rising from Sig’s disobedience. “Are you going to run tell The Mistress?”
Zig backs away. “If you think I can let you ruin everything we’ve worked for…”
“So, go!” Sig lashes out, letting the belt fly into the air. “Go tell The Mistress, but I’m claiming her as mine.”
Oh. Yes.
Zig disappears, retracing our steps, as I acknowledge Sig’s break in the rules is a risky move. “What are you doing?”
“Saving the girl.”
4
Love Choices
After Zig’s departure, Sig says nothing. He marches his way into the shadowy brush. A dim light streams through the trees as I try and make sense of it all. He was going to fuck me, but now it seems we’re going for a moonlit hike.
“What are you doing?” I ask Sig, following his fantastic ass. “We can’t just stay out here in the woods.”
“This will work,” he declares at the small clearing and drops the mysterious backpack. “Why can’t we stay alone? Are you scared of what you might do?”
“I’m always scared of what I might do!”
“Then perhaps,” he says, tossing limbs into a pile. “You need to stop thinking and start doing. Do what makes you happy.”
Sitting by the broken limbs and branches, I pick a twig up and snap it in two. “What do you mean? I’ve done plenty.”
He continues gathering wood for the fire. His muscles shimmer with beads of sweat. I don’t speak. I don’t ask how he’s going to start this blaze. I don’t ask if he’s going to fuck me. I don’t bother to help him. I study his moves and remain silent.
After being put on ignore by Sig, I consider wandering off. I won’t get to the castle thisaway. I must be moving thataway.
Before I leave, I decide one more effort is in order. I’m going to rob him. Or at the very least, see what is in his backpack. I wait until he disappears into the thicket, scurrying over to the red pack. I unzip it and find nothing of use—a hoodie, T-shirt, a pack of smokes, and a lighter. At the very bottom, I see a ridiculously small pocket knife. I could kill him with it if I wanted to spend hours at it.
But I don’t want to kill Sig.
I want him to talk to me.
I strip off the sheer sapphire dress and steal the hoodie. I must look like some sort of freak…or go-go dancer…or cheerleader in black thigh-high boots, white boy shorts, and a gray hoodie. With the chill in the air, I flip the hood up and move my legs about. I should’ve requested pants.
Upon his return, he takes one look at me. “You look like a lost little thing.”
“I am,” I reply as he spots the open backpack. Thief, I am not. He gives a worried look. “Why are we running away?”
Flicking the lighter on the leaves beneath his teepee of wood, he solemnly replies, “I could ask the same of you. Why are you running away?”
“I haven’t,” I argue, giving up my distance and moving closer to the flames. The heat feels amazing. “I never ran.”
He falls back onto his ass and wraps his arms around his legs. “But you did run. Maybe not physically but mentally…you ran like wild when you killed your parents and again when you took out Dick.”
I avert my eyes from his steady gaze. “Why are we analyzing the things I’ve done?”
He snickers, “Because you are here—in The Darkland.”
“And it’s your job to fish me out?”
“You could say that.” He lights a smoke and focuses his attention on the growing fire between us. “This is your terrain. We’re all just figments of your imagination.”
A single tear trickles over my cheek as I try and come to terms with my insanity. “Why did you kiss me like you did?”
“Was there a reason not to?”
One tear turns into many, and I wipe my cheek with the sleeve. He scoots closer and wraps his arm around me. “I don’t like noise.”
“I know,” he replies, passing the smoke to me. “But most people don’t do what you did because of grating noise.”
“I have a problem with things being out of control.” I take a drag. It isn’t tobacco, but some heady, sweet-smelling clove and marijuana.
“Clearly.”
“It’s like I reach a point where everything just turns to mush in my mind, and I lose it,” I confess with honesty. I glance up, but there are no twinkling or shooting stars. There is only the sable of the leaves. “What if they find out we aren’t on the path?”
“We’re too close to the kingdom for them to find us.”
“You mean, it’s too dangerous for them to look for us,” I whisper, inching closer to him. “You’re in danger with me.”
“It’s worth it if this works.”
“To sit in my hell with me?” I question, taking another hit. “You’re fucked up, Sig.” Running his fingers through his hair, he cackles as I bump into his arm. “Thank you.”
“… For?”
“Going to hell with me.” His fingers move to mine, and he rubs my hands. His touch is delicate and careful but not cautious. He doesn’t fear what I am capable of—everything we are is transparent. “Are you going to fuck me?”
“This is your mental topography, not mine,” he points out with a low, sexy voice. It isn’t intentional, but his natural way of speaking. “Do you want me to claim you?”
I nervously smirk and giggle. “Will it make a difference?”
“Only to you.”
“If this is my mind, I would’ve had all seven of you and your Mistress, too,” I contend with a laugh, knowing the orgy I’m requesting won’t happen.
“Why?”
“To take me away,” I whisper. “I haven’t gotten anywhere surrounded by white walls. Maybe a party in my panties is just what I need.”
“You want to forget the hurt,” he assesses, rubbing my back. “It’s not an outlandish demand. I’m proud of you for admitting your desires.”
“Maddy would tell me…”
“Maddy isn’t here,” he says, leaning closer to kiss me. His hands capture my face as he skims his fingers against my skin. He breaks from the kiss and breathes against my lip, “Forget what everyone says.”
I lean back, welcoming his advances with a spread of my thighs. He settles between them and kisses my neck as he grinds his hard cock against me. “What about the victory celebration?”
“This is the pre-game celebration…”
I can’t tell Sig to stop because
I don’t want him to. I want him to ravage my body…him and the group of Merrymen. I want them all to be mine…so bad. I don’t know what is happening to me. I’m not a horny teenage girl, yet I’m jealous of The Mistress, how put together she is, and how they respond to every command. I want to be that girl.
But I’m not that girl.
I’m fumbling and forgotten, a little hiccup now and again to remind everyone I’m still alive. But they wouldn’t care if I departed because no one visited in the sanatorium. No one came. Not even my few friends. But I must believe—this guy here with the raging hard-on stuffed inside of those jeans—I must believe he would come and check on me.
So how do I get from here to there?
With his mouth devouring my neck, he snaps his fingers, and the flames die back. It’s dark, really dark, with no chorus of crickets or frogs. Silence fills me as the only thing I hear is my voice. “Fuck me, please,” I beg as my hands smooth over his back, and I close my eyes. “Glue back, my broken.”
The lift of his hips causes a gasp from my lips as he slides the boxers down and nuzzles against my hungry slit. He flicks his tongue to my delight, and I arch, opening my eyes to see Twig hovering over me.
“Hey…”
“What are you doing here?” I ask as Sig works his skilled tongue with precision over my delicate bits. Twig lowers to kiss me hard. I have so many questions, but I’ll save the answers for another day…another time…another place. Twig unzips his jeans, and I hastily grip my fingers around his dick. I want to take him in my mouth. I run my tongue over my lips, and he slides deep inside.
I must have died because this is heaven with Sig savoring every swipe of his tongue against my swollen lips and Twig bucking into my mouth like I’m the only one who ever mattered. Twig’s calloused hands brush over my cheek. “You’re beautiful, Ellison. In all your crazy, you’re beautiful.”
My feelings have no conflict. I’m starting to care about these boys. Sig moves, and soon I’m met with two cocks, competing for the attention of my mouth. They’re making out and fighting for me—in more ways than one. I lick and suck and swallow until they back away.
I glance down and catch the maniacal smirk of Zig.
“Oh, shit,” I mumble, understanding the look. He’s going to take me, claim me, and make me his. I squeak, “Help.”
“You’ll be fine,” Sig reassures. “Trust me.”
Zig’s fingers slide over the boots like they are part of my body. He’s touching the black leather, making love to it with his hands, when he growls, “She has such pretty, pretty shoes…”
“No, Zig!” Sig corrects. “Do the deed, not what you need.”
A slight pout springs upon his lips, and I feel marginally sad by not giving him whatever he desires. “What does he need?”
“Don’t ask,” Sig and Twig answer in unison.
Without warning, Zig thrusts his hard cock inside of me. My insides are catapulted and burning—hot—as he stretches my body to fit around his shaft. “Were you expecting…someone else?”
“No, you cake-eating machine.”
“Tonight, I’m savoring your pie,” he laughs as my body conforms to his. Zig unzips the jacket, exposing my breasts, as Sig and Twig hold my hands.
Stroking my nipple, Sig mutters, “Please tell me you didn’t replace my hoodie with your corset.”
I grin. “I thought it might look good on you.”
“I’ll wear it proudly.”
With my legs draped around Zig’s waist, I welcome his pillage. It isn’t pleasurable but awkwardly painful. I take it in stride because it’s better than the alternative…I think.
Yes! Yes!
It is better than the four white walls of Littleton, which won’t be the four white walls of Littleton anymore, but some atrocious, horrid place where real criminals reside.
Real criminals like me.
“I’m a criminal!” I burst out during the mid of Zig’s thrust.
“It’s okay,” Zig oozes with seduction. “We’re all criminals, baby.”
“But I…I kill people for...fighting and rape.”
“That’s a lot more reason than I’ve had in the past,” Zig admits, lowering to kiss my lips. I glance around—Sig and Twig—are gone. “I kill people too, El.”
I mentally stumble into a place where I could be happy with someone just like myself because that is what it would take—someone unstable…someone crazy…someone insane. I’d carve up a do-gooder with nary a blink of my eye, and those boasting boys with egos big enough to fill a ship, I’d make paper dolls out of them. My perfect match would have to be full of a blasphemous, unrestrained fury.
“Stop being so gentle with me,” I demand, knowing this man is my kindred. “I can take it.”
He swoops down in an instant, pinning my hands to the ground, and annihilating every bad memory I ever conjured up with each buck of his hips. “You want it rough, little girl?”
“Yes!” I cry out. “Fuck me like the monster you are!”
His mouth serpentines across my flesh, focusing on my nipple and biting the tender bud between his teeth. I go wild beneath his control, soaking around his shaft, and slightly rocking against his pillar trapped within my sanctuary.
He’s so much bigger than me. So much older. The notches on his belt are the experience I crave, and we don’t stop because we can’t. We’re compelled like magnets locking together with such intensity that nothing can break the bond.
“Look at you blossom,” Zig mutters, looking at me like I’m the only one that ever mattered. “You’re beautiful. You need to give yourself a chance.”
“I can’t take out The Queen,” I whisper between kisses to his chest.
“Yes, you can,” Sig declares, grabbing the whip and cracking it in the air. “You are Ellison. And this is your Darkland. You can do whatever you want.”
“It’s so much easier than you believe,” The Mistress reassures, kissing my lips. “You just need a little inspiration of the perspiration variety.”
Sig snickers as she twirls away and into his arms. She flutters between Sig and Twig as I curve up and grab Zig’s butt. It’s a remarkable move for a girl as timid as me. I can take their moves, but I haven’t made any unnecessary actions to show my affection for them.
“You all shouldn’t be here…” I worry as Zig latches his arm around my back, and we roll. He put me on top to watch their dance.
The Mistress is the center of attention, and all six are kneeling around her. Twelve hands rise over her legs and bodice from six drool-worthy boys and one disturbed bitch.
They lift, bumping and grinding against her, and her clothes peel off. She lip locks with Sig as Twig’s hands run over his cock.
Grabbing my hips, Zig thrusts up from underneath as I watch, completely enamored by their love. Sig rhythmically cracks his whip as Twig stays knelt by his side. And The Mistress is bent over a rock getting lip service by Zag and Big…I don’t want to know why they call him that. Jig is thwapping Dig’s ass as he crawls around the perimeter of the space.
Is that Zag’s cane he is using?
Walking over, The Mistress smiles and straddles over Zig’s face. “Welcome to our party, El.”
“You’re their party favor,” I mumble with a twinge of jealousy.
“And you will be ours,” she claims, reaching to touch my clit. Her light circles enliven my senses and make me crave the punctuated thrusts of Zig from below. “You need to trust yourself. Let go, Ellison. Come to me.”
Her lips brush over mine as Sig and Twig twiddle with my nipples, and I fly, soaring to a place of contentment where the past no longer matters. “Oh, God…” I shriek with embarrassment. “You’re going to make me come.”
“Yes, Ellison…become part of us.”
The ecstasy they bring is too much to withstand. I let go and blissfully cry out. “Don’t stop! Please don’t stop!”
I’m inundated with lips and tongues—The Mistress, Sig, and Twig—as I rock a shatteri
ng orgasm from deep within my soul. I giggle and bite my lip. “And The Queen punishes this?”
“No, The Queen…”
Immediately, an ear-piercing screech fills the lands as The Mistress yells, “Run!”
“What’s going on?” I ask Sig as I grab my shorts.
“It’s one of The Queen’s evil monsters,” he says, lifting my body from Zig. He grabs my hand, and we hide in the forest. “The raid will be over soon.”
With concern, I whisper, “How many will she capture?”
“Depends…sometimes none…. sometimes three. The Mistress used to have over a hundred slaves.”
I pull on the shorts and think about all I have put them through. I’m a horrible person, but there is still time to remedy all of it if I overtake The Queen.
“Can I win?” I acquiesce.
“You’re the only one who can.”
A low roar rumbles at the clearing and forces our inspection. We scoot closer to see Twig sobbing on his knees. He peers up to Sig. “They took The Mistress.”
“No!” Sig yells. “No!”
“Yes.” He nods with unmistakable remorse. “You have to bring her back, Ellison.”
“Where are the others?” Sig asks.
“We were shooing everyone off. She was concerned about everyone else, and they snatched her out of my grasp. I’m so sorry.”
“Twig escort Ellison around the long way,” Sig commands, cracking his knuckles. “Make sure she gets there.”
“Yes, Master,” Twig curiously replies, but I don’t have time to ask why.
“Where are you going?” I nervously ask with a shaking voice. “Tell me you aren’t going to do anything dangerous.”
“Me? Dangerous?” His devilish smirk provides the truth behind his lies. “Nevah!”
Twig slips his fingers into mine as I ask, “Do you need anyone to go with you?”
“Not necessary.”
The plan is simple.
Twig and I are to take the long, safer route to the kingdom while Sig does some ninja shit, shorter route, risking his ass to save The Mistress. We’ll meet him on the castle grounds, and I will overthrow the government of The Queen.
Madness Page 5