Peep Show

by Starling, Isabella

  Miles taught me to speak out. Miles taught me to help others. Miles told me to stop being fucking selfish, sugar, and see all the broken souls out there, and give them a piece of me that will make them feel less alone.

  Miles and Bebe’s story consumed me for four months, and I’m surprised I got it done in that time because it was a hard one to write. I couldn’t be happier that I did it though, and I’ve let myself open up about things that are difficult to speak about.

  I know we all have our demons, our secrets. I am hoping that Miles, Bebe and I have taught you it’s okay to speak about them. It’s okay to say you’re hurting. There are people who will help you. There are people who care.

  And you know what?

  There is a happily ever after for you.

  Now go chase it.

  Isabella xx

  Join Isabella’s Facebook reader group, Good Girls Love Bad Boys

  It was an oppressively warm summer night. The hot air was making my white T-shirt stick to my skin and droplets of sweat run down my spine into my panties. It was too hot for a proper outfit, so I made do with just a threadbare shirt and a pair of pink silk panties. I’d wanted to go out tonight; my friend had invited me. But there was no way I’d bear the heat on a day like today.

  Instead, I walked around the apartment with my feet bare and a glass of ice water in my hand. The ice had melted long ago, and the glass made my hand slippery. It was unbearably hot.

  I put the glass down on the kitchen counter and lifted my long black hair off my back. I fanned the back of my neck and enjoyed the short relief it offered.

  It was late, already past one a.m. And yet I couldn’t make myself go to bed, couldn’t bring myself to catch a wink of sleep. It felt like I was going to be up all night.

  I spent a couple more minutes pacing my house. It was small, but it felt perfect for me. It hadn’t been long since I’d moved into town. After my parents both passed away in short succession, I decided I needed a fresh start. I packed up all my stuff, took my train-wreck of a car and moved to a beautiful coastal city that was sunny as much as it was foggy. It suited my mood swings perfectly.

  My cat rubbed against my leg and I looked down at him affectionately. He was such a big guy, despite growing up on scraps out the back of my house for what the neighbors told me was years. When I saw him, I couldn’t resist. I took him in, and ever since, he slept contentedly in the bay window downstairs, looking out into the garden. I loved cats. They seemed to be as moody and annoyed with life as I often felt. I named him Casper, and he was mine from then on. And that was that.

  Finally, when it was closer to two than one a.m., I made my way to bed. I lay on top of the rumpled sheets and hated the humidity in the air. When I finally drifted off to sleep, it was with my phone in my hand.

  I woke up what felt like a minute later. My instincts kicked in the second my eyes opened.

  There was a palm over my mouth.

  I looked up and panicked, my heart beating into overdrive the second I saw the man above me.

  He wore jeans and a black shirt, and I could barely make out his features in the darkness. There were black gloves on his hands—smooth, buttery, expensive leather. He held me down firmly.

  I screamed into his hand but it didn’t make a sound. The fabric of his gloves was muffling my cries and he pressed me down into the pillow, hard. I struggled against his firm, toned body, but it was a worthless attempt. He held me so tightly, it felt like a bruising kiss. His touch was intense, and his stare was dark. I could barely make out his eyes in the darkness. Two dark, gleaming baubles that took me in like I was an object he was going to use to satisfy himself.

  I screamed again, even though I’d already come to the conclusion that there was absolutely no point in doing it. It had no impact.

  He grabbed my throat with his free hand and my body thrashed on the bed beneath him. He pinned me down with his whole weight, rendering me completely immobile.

  This wasn’t happening.

  This couldn’t be happening.

  This couldn’t be fucking reality.

  He leaned down against me and looked into my eyes. His chin had day-old stubble on it, and he was painfully handsome up close. It hurt to look at him. It felt bad to smell him, because his scent was intoxicating. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Whatever this was, I wasn’t supposed to like it. It went against everything…

  My heart throbbed in my chest. Adrenaline was rushing through my veins so fast that I knew I had a chance of overpowering him, if only I had the nerve to try.

  “Hello, sweetness,” he muttered in my ear, and my whole body prickled. My back arched off the bed and I pressed tightly against him as he chuckled into my ear, a low, threatening sound. “Your body likes me better than your mind. I’m going to have so much fucking fun with it.”

  His gloved fingers ran down my cheek and I gasped as they reached my lips. His thumb parted them gently when he moved his hand away, and I drew in long, labored breaths.

  “Please,” I begged him. “Please don’t hurt—”

  “Shut the fuck up, slut,” he groaned into my hair, sniffing at it. “God, you smell good. Be a good girl for me and don’t make a fucking sound, okay, sweetness?”

  “Please…” I whispered.

  His smack came out of nowhere. He hit me so hard my head snapped back and I yelped in pain.

  “Say thank you,” he ordered, and I stared at him.

  This. Couldn’t. Be. Fucking. Happening.

  I took my chance. I used the adrenaline and pushed him off me. He let me. When I bolted for the door, he merely laughed and stared after me.

  “You can’t run fast enough, sweetness,” he shouted as I stumbled into the hallway. “And you’re gonna regret it once I punish you for it, naughty girl.”

  I kept running. I practically fell down the stairs I was moving so fast, rushing, rushing, trying to get away. Casper appeared between my legs, rubbing against my ankles and making me tumble. I shrieked as I fell to the ground. And then the man was on me again, grasping me by my throat and pulling me up as if I was nothing but a ragdoll. He held me close to his body, his other hand twisting my hands behind my back and making me cry out desperately.

  “I’m going to fucking punish you,” he growled in my ear. “For each step you took away from me, slut.”

  His hand left my throat and tangled in my hair, and he dragged me back up the stairs. I screamed as loud as I fucking dared, so afraid of him hurting me. But there was no one around for miles, and if he had done his research, he would’ve known that. I was the perfect victim. The perfect girl to hurt, and I hadn’t even realized it.

  He dragged me back into the bedroom and threw me on the bed, my whole body reverberating from the fall. And then he was on top of me again.

  He pulled his gloves off and his fingers traced my nipples. I hated my body for betraying me and my nipples for getting hard. He twisted them and I cried out in pain.

  “Time to pay,” he told me sweetly, turning me over on my stomach and pinning me down with a knee on the small of my back. “What’s it gonna be, sweetness? Which hole are you gonna pay me with?”

  “Please—” I started, but he slapped me again. The sound echoed in the room.

  “No more begging,” he growled. “Unless it’s the kind a good slut does. Which fucking hole?”

  This was really happening. This was really fucking happening, and there was nothing I could do to stop it, or him. “Mouth,” I whispered. “My mouth.”

  “Mouth what?” he taunted me. I let out my first sob, a soft little sound that sounded as desperate as it did pathetic.

  “Mouth, please,” I said in a shaky voice. “Please.”

  “See, that’s a good girl,” he cooed, and pulled me to the edge of the bed with my head dangling off. I heard the sound of his zipper and suddenly his cock was out.

  It was huge. It was a cock that was never, ever going to fit inside my mouth, and we both knew it. When he saw my horrifie
d expression, he merely laughed.

  “Don’t even think about running again,” he warned me, outlining my lips with his fingers.

  His hand felt cold as his thumb slipped inside my mouth. I sucked it between my lips and looked up at him, and he groaned when I did. I sucked harder, until he slid his thumb out of my mouth with a loud pop. And then he tangled his hands in my hair and forced his cock inside me. Not even slowly, just forcing it all the way in, all the way down, in one fucking go.

  I thought I would throw up on the spot. I choked right away. But he merely laughed at me and kept going, forcing inch after inch down my throat until I struggled desperately under him, trying to get away. But he wouldn’t fucking let me. He held me by my throat and kept smacking my cheek with his free hand if I struggled too much.

  Finally, I settled down and stopped moving as much. He held me still and let his cock throb so deep inside me it felt like he was violating more than just my throat. I cried and looked up at him with big fat tears running down my cheeks. It made him groan out loud, and for once, instead of smacking me, his thumb stroked my cheek.

  “So fucking beautiful, sweetness,” he said softly. “You’re such a pretty girl for me.”

  I nodded, choking on his length and thickness, and it only made him groan and push deeper inside me.

  “Suck,” he ordered, and I started to, slowly, tentatively.

  It didn’t take long for me to start getting into it. I looked up at him, into those shiny, dark eyes, and I took him all the way down my throat. He groaned and I could tell he was holding back, but after a while he couldn’t anymore. He started fucking my throat, fast, his cock pumping inside my mouth at a breakneck pace. I let him, and I took all of him in even when I gagged and sputtered all over his cock. I just took it, and he smoothed down my hair and told me what a good little girl I was.

  I could feel him getting harder. I could feel his veins throbbing and his fingers tightening in my hair, and I knew from his eyes something was about to happen.

  “Get on your fucking knees,” he growled at me. “I want to fuck you.”

  My whole body shook as I followed his orders, and he made me whimper when he took hold of my arm and twisted it behind me, making me fall headfirst onto a pillow. He climbed onto the bed behind me and I looked over my shoulder and saw him lick his fingers, parting me open for him, and then he was inside me, all the fucking way. I howled at the pain and pleasure combined as he started to move inside me. It felt incredible. I’d never felt so full. I didn’t even get to see if he put a condom on.

  “Dirty fucking girl,” he said, his fingers tangling in my hair as he used me. “I knew you’d love it. I knew you wanted this. Say thank you.”

  “Thank you,” I whimpered, and he laughed behind my back, buried balls-deep inside me.

  “All those hints,” he went on. “All that time spent talking. You wanted me to do this.”

  “Yes,” I breathed. “I did, I did, I did. Thank you, sir.”

  “Good fucking girl,” he grunted, and with a single thrust, he came so deep inside me, not a bit of him leaked out when he pulled his cock free. The sounds I made were embarrassing, and my body flopped down uselessly when he was done with it.

  “Thank you,” I whispered. “Thank you…”

  “You’re welcome, sweetness.” He slapped my ass, out of breath as he pulled his jeans closed. “You were such a good girl for me, just like you promised.”

  6 months earlier

  Check this out. You’re going to love it. She sounds fucking amazing.

  I stared at the link attached to the message, and I got this feeling before I clicked it. An intense throb in my chest that wouldn’t go away, especially not after I followed the message into a part of the web I wasn’t very familiar with.

  It had only been a few weeks since I’d started exploring. There had always been something there, deep inside me. Something lurking in the darkest corners, just waiting for the right moment to break free. I’d embraced my darkness my whole life, but not to this extent. I’d had girls on their knees, with whip marks on their backs, with their asses turned black and blue from my hands and my belt. But not like this. Never like this.

  The title of her post was simple. I stared at it for the long time, looking at her username.

  I’m going to make you rape me, by alittledoll.

  Several minutes passed before I finally clicked on the voice clip attached to her post. Her moans filled the room. Hot, needy, so fucking desperate she had me rock hard the second I heard her whimper. She sounded unbelievable. I never thought the voice of a submissive girl could have so much power; such an amazing, insane impact on my body. My hips reacted to her moans, and my cock grew even harder as she cried. It took me by surprise, and I only realized halfway through the recording that my hand was jerking my dick, long stroking motions trying to get me off, so desperate to come for this filthy little vixen I didn’t even know.

  I came in seconds. It wasn’t even a full minute, it couldn’t have been. And I didn’t particularly want to, either, but her sinful little voice got me off so fucking good. I blew all over my shaking fist, cum leaking through my fingers as I stroked the remains of my orgasm from my throbbing cock.

  I cleaned up and stared at the recording playing out on my computer screen. She was giggling after making me come like that, laughing because the sweet little bitch knew every man who had just listened to her voice got off like never before. She fucking knew it, and she was begging us to punish her for making us come that way. She was begging for pain, begging to be hurt. It was a mind fuck if I’d ever seen one. She was making my head pound and my cock throb, and I didn’t even know what the fuck she looked like.

  There was no question about it—I had to message her.

  I knew she got a shit-ton of messages. The comments and views on her posts were crazy; she must’ve been flooded with unwanted dick pics. But a part of me thought she fucking loved them, so I started a message to her pretty little self anyway. I didn’t give a shit if I was one of many. I knew she’d reply to me. I knew she’d crave me the second she saw my message. She had to feel this incredible connection we had, just like I did. It was already scaring me, and I was a big, grown-ass man. I wondered what the lust I felt listening to her would do to my little doll.

  I shot off a simple message and waited in my seat. There was no way to see whether she was online on the site, but I had a feeling she was one of those obsessive, needy little bitches who wanted attention all the time. I had no doubt that she checked her messages every second of every day, unless she was sleeping. I knew I’d have a reply back in a couple of minutes, and I was fucking looking forward to it.

  I opened my message again, re-reading what I’d just sent her.

  I could be anywhere right now. I could be so very close to you, just a short drive. Maybe I need to make an excuse and pay you a visit. You talk about wanting me to come to your apartment. Unannounced. Forcing you. Taking what I want from you. Maybe I should make it happen. See whether or not it was all talk, how you would really like it if I snuck in, clamped a hand over your mouth, slapped you dizzy and raped that pretty little pussy, leaving you with a womb full of my cum.

  As I was reading it, I saw my own reflection in the computer screen. My hair was messy from having just woken up. Light brown, with a smattering of gray throughout it. I was wearing a simple vest top with tattoos over my forearms—the only decoration on my tanned skin. I knew I was handsome, but I hid my dirty, dark side very well. It was a prerequisite for the job I had. There was no fucking kinkiness in banking, that was for damn sure.

  While I was looking at myself, I saw I’d received a message back. A grin was plastered on my face as I checked what she’d written.

  You’re scaring me.

  Fuck. All those audios, all that talk, and she was scared already. I wrote back.

  You should be scared, little doll. Tell me you’ll beg for me to use you.

  Please, I don’t want to.
<
br />   Then why are you replying to me?

  I got a feeling about you.

  What feeling?

  You’re going to be so bad for me.

  That’s not a good reason to reply, little doll.

  You still there?

  Yeah.

  You want this.

  You want to be used like a little fuckdoll. You want to be raped and fucked in public while everyone watches, don’t you?

  Yes.

  I’ll help you, little doll. Will you let me?

  Yes.

  I got this fucking feeling in the pit of my stomach. A rumble, a tense, tight sensation that made me think this girl might actually be exactly what my depraved mind wanted.

  I’d never really unleashed my true personality on anyone. I’d had girls who liked playing rough before. Nasty, needy little girls who let me do anything to them, much younger than me too. But I never had anyone like her. Never a girl who tapped into the darkest part of my mind and begged me to unleash all the monsters that lurked in the darkness. I never had a girl who was as desperate for that depravity as I was. And I wanted to use her. I wanted to make her submit. I wanted to see what her limits were and if they went as far as my own did.

  We exchanged more and more messages. I asked her about herself, questions she carefully evaded. She offered a tidbit of information here and there, offering a piece of herself, and I felt like a kid being teased with candy. She was giving me small pieces but I wanted the whole fucking pie. I wanted all of her. Wanted to consume her. I wanted to fucking own her.

  The intensity of my lust for her never faded as we chatted more. I found myself so overtaken by the immediate need to feel her, to be inside her, I couldn’t focus on anything else. She’d claimed my mind and my dick in only a few minutes.

  She was mesmerizing, and I was becoming addicted. I knew I was moving too fast, and I knew I’d probably scare her off, but I needed so… Much. More.

  Tell me your name.

  I don’t want to.