by Rina Kent
"Please, Jas, please..."
"Please what?"
"Please let me have it," I breathe. "Just one, a little one, I want it so bad, fucking please."
"No." He pauses and I cry out loud. I want the friction of his fingers going in and out of me, fucking me the way I deserve it. "No, you can't have it. Keep begging for it, slut."
"Jasper, please, I'm begging you, please, let me come one time, just one time, I'll make it so good for you."
"For me?" He laughs with dark amusement. "How are you going to make it good for me?"
"I'll be loud." The words are spilling from my lips, fast. "I'll be so loud and so good and so obedient, I'll do anything you say."
His fingers start fucking me again and I keep on talking, promising him anything and everything under the sun.
"Please, Jas. Please, anything you want, you can have it."
"Just for one orgasm? Anything I want?"
"Y-Yes." I stare at him angrily, but it doesn't stop the torrent of words falling from my lips. "Anything. Now fucking please. Just... just let me come."
"You can come after you talk to your friend." Jas pulls his fingers out of me and I moan as he puts them in front of my lips. "Suck, Petal. Suck yourself off me."
Desperately, my lips wrap around his fingers and I look into his eyes as I lick my juices off his hand.
"That's right, you little slut. That's what I want. A broken, desperate girl eager to do anything her owner wants. For one orgasm. Just one. Maybe I'll deny you after. Maybe I won't let you come for a while. For now, you stay nice and dripping for me. Stay right on that edge, right where you're supposed to be.”
I cry out and he presses a finger against my lips, warning me to stay quiet.
"Remember what you promised me, Petal?"
"Y-Y-Yes."
"No coming before I allow it. Now, keep riding that edge for me. Keep fucking doing it, right there, so close you can taste it."
"Please!" I'm starting to sob, my body is so eager for a release. "Please, Jas! Stop fucking torturing me!"
"Never," he smirks. "Just hold it like a good girl. Grit those teeth and take it for me."
I do.
And a part of me hopes he'll never stop this.
That he'll keep me in a perpetual state of almost coming, almost there, so close I can taste the sweet release of an orgasm on the tip of my tongue, but never quite having it full. I want nothing else but to obey him. Submit to him. Be his willing slut.
I hope he never stops fucking with my head.
25
Jasper
The doorbell rings.
My face tightens, but I smile. My little Petal watches me closely, the unknown must be killing her, but she doesn’t want to ask.
“That’s your nurse,” I say as I lead her from the bedroom to the small dining room at the edge of the kitchen.
“He’s not my nurse,” she murmurs.
“But he brought you help.” My arm wraps around her waist, keeping her caged in place to my side. “He’s your knight in shining armor, Petal.”
She stares up at me. “At least someone is.”
My hold tightens around her. “Don’t fucking test me.”
She obviously wants to say something but keeps her mouth shut. All the hickeys and her sore cunt are evidence of what I can do to her. She does enjoy it, but she’s passed the line of exhaustion now.
“Sit down,” I motion at the table as the doorbell rings again.
“Are you going to do something to Bill?”
“Why the fuck do you care?”
“I don’t want you hurting people just because you can, Jasper. That’s wrong.”
“Newsflash, Pet, if you’re looking for right you won’t find it in me. Now, sit the fuck down.”
“Jerk,” she mutters under her breath but heads to the chair.
The moment she sits, I crouch beside her and turn the seat so she’s facing me. She’s wearing nothing under her long robe, and I did that on purpose.
“What are you doing—”
Her words cut off when I bring something from my pocket and shove my hand between her legs.
The gray of her eyes darkens with her arousal. “Don’t, don’t…” she chants in a small, helpless voice.
I don’t, not until I make sure the object is lodged tightly against her cunt.
“Be a good girl and I might not torture you for long.” I stand up and push her chair back against the table. “Act normal and don’t fucking dare say anything or I’ll chop off the white knight’s hand.”
“This is blackmail.”
“And you love it,” I whisper at her ear and turn on the device from the remote in my pocket.
A moan rips from her as she grips the edge of the table.
With one last stroke of her hair, I push off her and answer the door.
Sure enough, Bill, the fucker who’s wishing to have an early death and a mafia funeral-style ceremony, stands at the entrance. He appears agitated, eyes darting, and he nearly knocks on my face when I open the door.
He’s accompanied by a policeman with a fat belly and small narrow eyes.
“May I help you, gentlemen?” I ask in my most amiable tone.
I can be a good sport, I just don’t like to play the role. I prefer the darkness and the night, that’s when people’s masks drop and they show their true colors.
“This is him.” Bill points in my direction and I’m tempted to cut off that fucking finger and carve his face with my knife. “He’s keeping her against her will.”
“I’m sorry?” I feign surprise. “Keeping who?”
“We had a complaint by miss Georgina Hill’s friend that she’s in a situation,” the cop says.
“What type of situation, officer?”
“Mind if we come in?” He motions behind me.
“Yes,” Bill’s face reddens. “Georgie will give her statement against this criminal.”
Okay, he’s out.
This fucker better start counting his days.
“That’s not something to joke about in front of an officer, Bill.” I’m still in my amicable mood, the perfect disguise strapped in place.
“So, can we come in?” the cop insists.
“Yes, of course.” I open the door, giving them way. “Georgie is in the dining area.”
The fat cat hisses as Bill passes him by. Good boy. Someone is getting a treat later.
“Relax, Mr. Bingley.” I speak in the calm soothing way my little Petal uses with her cats then smile at the officer. “He’s not good with strangers.”
He nods with a flicker of understanding.
He must own pets, and he knows pets need some sort of familiarity. The fact that the cat keeps following me but hissing at them is enough evidence I’m no stranger.
“Georgie!” Bill runs towards her like a high school idiot with a crush for the most popular girl. He sits beside her and holds her hands in his. “Are you okay? I just brought the officer, everything is going to be fine.”
On the outside, I’m calm, nonchalant even, as I crouch and scratch under Mr. Bingley’s chin. The motion calms the cat down, but not me.
I’m on the verge of boiling over.
He’s touching her and holding her hands, in front of me. I’m so going to mutilate him before finishing his fucking life.
I reach into my pocket and increase the intensity of the vibrator. My little Petal visibly shudders then pulls her hands from Bill to rest them on her lap. She’s squirming, trying to stop herself from giving in to the pleasure and somehow failing.
Her eyes meet mine for a second, they’re filled with a sick type of hatred and lust. If we were alone, she’d tell me to hate fuck her, roughen her up, spank her until she’s a sobbing mess.
My cock hardens at that and I think about the cat to chase away the thoughts.
“Tell the cop, Georgie,” Bill prompts, seeming oblivious to her state.
The cop might not be, though, so I reduce the intensity, to
give her room to speak.
“Tell him what?” She sounds semi-normal considering the stimuli against her cunt.
Good girl.
“He’s keeping you against your will.” Bill points in my direction. “He’s making you stay here and—”
“That’s not true.” She cuts him off with a small smile, and despite the briefness of it, that smile is one of the truest things she’s ever offered.
I tilt my head to the side. Where have I seen that smile before?
“What do you mean it’s not true?” Bill’s face reddens with exertion. “He obviously is.”
“Obviously is?” Georgie repeats with a hard edge. She’s not acting right now, but showing her true feelings.
“Well, he’s not your type and you seem suspicious.”
“What do you know about my type, Bill?” She glances at me before reverting her gaze. “He’s the only one who does.”
No idea if she’s only keeping up a façade, or if she’s speaking the truth, but those words do shit to me.
“Can you address the suspicious part, Miss Hill?” the officer asks, still not taking a seat.
“We’ve been…” she swallows. “Exploring some kinks.”
My little Petal is either a tremendous liar or she does believe those words as the truth.
“So, to confirm,” the officer approaches her. “What’s your relationship?”
“He’s my man.” She doesn’t even hesitate to say the words.
I nearly come in my pants there and then.
My man. She called me her fucking man.
Instead, I stand and walk toward her, placing both hands on her slender shoulders. There’s a slight tremor in her body, probably because of the toy.
“Georgie!” Bill tries to reach out for her again, but she keeps her hands on her lap.
“Thank you for your concern, Bill, but it wasn’t needed.” She smiles up at the officer, it’s her usual fake, welcoming smile, but it does the trick. “I’m sorry for bothering you.”
“You’re not the one who’s supposed to apologize.” He gives Bill a side-eye.
“I’ll see you when I return to the hospital,” she tells Bill.
“And when will that be?” He glares at me.
“I’m taking a few days off.”
I reach a hand into my pocket and increase the intensity. A full shudder goes through my little Petal’s body. I can feel the stiffness in her shoulder under my hand, that preparation for orgasm.
“Good night, Bill,” she manages to say.
“Have a lovely night.” I wave at Bill and the officer at the door. Although I’m smiling, I imagine spilling the fucker’s brains on the ground and disfiguring his face —propably both at the same time.
I push the vibrator to its highest intensity.
As I walk back inside, my little Petal’s whimpers and moans fill the space. I stop at the entrance, watching her slumped against the table, gripping both edges so hard, her knuckles are whiter than her natural skin complexion.
“M-make it stop,” she mewls as her cheek lies on the table, facing me. “I did what you asked.”
“So, it was all an act.” I don’t know why the fuck that pisses me off, but it does.
“I... what do you want from me, Jasper?” She reaches for her nightgown. “I did what you asked.”
“Remove that hand. Right. Now.”
“But—”
“Put them back where they were.”
Like a kid caught stealing from the jar, she plants them back on the table and stares at me with tears welling in her eyes. “Please, Jasper. I need release.”
I raise an eyebrow as I stalk toward her. “Again?”
She nods slowly.
“With my cock or with the vibrator?”
“You,” she breathes.
As I approach her, I notice the stain at the front of her nightgown. My cock turns fucking hard at the fact that she’s been craving me while her knight in shining armor was right beside her.
With a flick of my thumb, I stop the vibrator and she sags, breathing harshly.
“Straighten up,” I order.
She does, her back snapping in a rigid line.
For this, I need her in her right state of mind.
I stroke stray strands of hair behind her ear and she leans into my hand, briefly closing her eyes. “You said I’m your man.”
She stops moving against my hand but doesn’t pull away or open her eyes.
My fingers drop down to her jaw, pinching it between my thumb and forefinger. “Was that an act?”
She slowly opens her eyes, they’re light, shining, and I see the answer in them before she says, “No.”
“You’re mine, Pet.”
“I am.” She doesn’t hesitate this time, the words come easy as if they were always meant to.
“You were a good girl tonight.”
A soft moan rips from her lips at the words. My little Petal likes being called a good girl and likes being at my mercy.
“Good girls get rewards.”
“They do?”
“They do.”
She squeals as I lift her up and throw her over my shoulder, carrying her to the bedroom.
Tonight, I’ll fuck her slowly, worshipping every inch of her body.
It’s a first for me, but my little Petal has been my first in a lot of things.
26
Georgina
I've been stuck in my apartment for two days now.
Two days of Jas relentlessly fucking my body until I promised him everything in the world for the taste of pleasure, a lick of what he kept away from me for hours that felt like years.
He started by fucking my body, but now, he's progressed to fucking with my head.
By the third day, I'm a fucking mess. The night before, Jasper showered me himself, spraying my body with bursts of hot and cold water until I was a confused, dripping mess. He put me in bed himself. I don't even have makeup on, and my hair is a wavy tangle, but he doesn't seem to care. He stares at me like he's about to fucking devour me, and as for me... I'm living for every second of it, not that I'd ever admit it to my captor.
"Jas.” My mouth so dry it feels like it's cracking with every word. "You're fucking me up."
"Just the way you like it," he replies. "Now go to sleep, Petal. Dream of pretty, wonderful things that you can't have anymore."
My eyes close and I let the darkness pull me under.
Suddenly, I'm in a world I've tried to shut down for years. A world of darkness, shadows and secrets being whispered on every corner – a world I can't pretend to understand any longer. My mama's there, still alive, still breathing, holding me close to her heart and telling me everything's going to be alright over and over again.
"You're okay," she whispers in my ear. "You're okay, my darling girl, I'm going to take care of you, I'm going to make sure nobody ever hurts you again."
I believe her. I'm a little girl again, except I'm not a little girl, I'm a little boy, and I like picking daisies and the older boy who takes care of me.
I startle, my eyes opening again as I whimper and my hands seek out Jasper for comfort. He's next to me, his body stiff as I latch onto him, holding on for dear life.
"You're scaring me, Jas," I whisper. "You're doing something to my head, you're fucking with it, I can't even see straight anymore."
"Let it take you under, Petal.” His dark voice soothes. “It’s the only way you’ll get rid of those anxiety attacks.”
I allow the pull of the memories to start taking me away from him again. I don't want to remember, but I need to. To save myself, to save Jas.
Remember.
Remember.
Remember.
I don't know how he's doing this, but events I've tried to sweep under the rug for decades are coming back in full technicolor glory. My eyes water as I remember a beautiful woman that looked just like me. Dark hair, frail, thin body, gray eyes. My mama.
She took care of me. She l
oved me. She was the only person I had.
Until she was ripped away from me.
I'm traveling back now, back years in time until I'm small and fragile and young, sitting on greener grass than I've ever seen. I'm in a garden, a garden of daisies. The little white flowers litter the ground, sprouting from the most unlikely of places and making me smile, putting dimples in my chubby cheeks.
I shake my head, groaning.
I don't want these memories.
I don't want to remember.
But why?
The woman is singing in a beautiful voice, Italian words that I don't understand blending together in a soothing lullaby. She's trying to comfort me, but as she sings, her voice begins to shake and tremble, and the melody loses its meaning.
"We have to go now, little one," she tells me, grabbing me and gathering me in her arms. The flower crown I'd been making out of the daisies falls to the ground.
"But I'm not finished," I complain. She pays me no mind. She runs along the grass. Her feet are bare and streaked with green, and so are mine. We're in our own world. A place where we're safe, and happy, and good, until we aren't. Until someone barges into our fantasy with a bang. Bang bang bang.
"Mama!" I cry out, little arms extending for my mother. "Mama, don't go!"
But she's being pulled away. She reaches out for me, and then there's a loud noise, bang bang bang, again and again, over and over again. Rosettes of deep scarlet bloom on my mother's chest and she stumbles back, having never quite reached me, her last chance of comforting me being cruelly ripped away. She utters my name, but no sound comes from her lips. They open to shape the letters of my name and then darker red, almost black liquid spills from her lips.
I don't know what's happening, but I know something's wrong, and I start to wail. Mama falls to the floor and I crawl closer to her, watching her gurgle blood, trying to speak and tell me something that could save my life. But there's nothing. No words come out. She reaches out for me, but her hand falls midway, her arm brokenly lying on the grass and her eyes lifeless, staring into nothing.
"What's wrong, Mama?" I ask, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "What's going on, why won't you talk to me?"
I'm too small to understand, too young to comprehend it's over, it's done. She's dead, and I don't know it, so I keep sitting there, absentmindedly picking daisies that grow in the grass around her unmoving body. I tuck them in her hair, filling her dark mane with flowers.