My life has never been what one would consider normal. Money and the hushed rumors of me not being my Father’s son have seen to that. There has always been an unbreachable distance between me and my father. Not that my father had been cruel or abusive to me, just indifferent.
I know better than anyone, however, that indifference can be just as intolerable as abuse. My father wasn’t bonded to anyone or anything except his job. Money and social status is a double edged sword and many people are ignorant of their repercussions. Unless you had lived with the realities of it, you really can’t understand. It’s kind of like unless you have walked in another’s shoes, you can’t relate.
There really have not been any people in my life who liked me for me. In my world, there has always been a hidden agenda. Social status and money are the reasons women pursue me… until now.
I determined long ago not to get attached to anyone. I fuck women and move on. Melanie changed all that. There has never been a time in my life that I didn’t want to play the field, but now the only things that matter to me are Melanie and Tommy. I would kill for them. Then again, I am a serial killer.
I have no intention of letting them go and if it means kidnapping her ass and holding her hostage in my basement, then so be it. I know it won’t come to that though. I know she needs me as much as I need her; I just haven’t figured out why yet.
I glance up to see the temp eying me. It’s the same temp I fucked before I moved Melanie in. I want that bitch out of here so she doesn’t cause problems in my relationship. Thoughts of slitting her throat and allowing the blood to run through my fingers invade my thoughts. I rise from my chair and make my way over to have a little chat with her.
I can tell the poor little thing is nervous as I place my hands on the back of her chair and lean down to whisper in her ear. “Listen to me very closely because I don’t like to repeat myself. I don’t need or want you here anymore.
Now, being the gentleman I am, I have arranged for you to be hired on by a colleague of mine. It’s a permanent job that pays quite well. Do. Not. Mistake. My. Kindness. For. Weakness! If you ever breathe a word about our little escapade, I will take you down! Now, get the fuck out of my building!”
The girl scrambles, gathering items and the business card I’ve thrown down on her desk. I’m certain she hears my voice as she makes her way out the door, “They are expecting you there tomorrow at 9:00am.”
Just like any other gold-digger, I’m sure she is reveling in her good luck. Fucking me secured her permanent employment. Who needs love anyway?
Chapter Sixteen
Dr. Ozment
I stand in the stairwell and wait for Dr. Anderson. The nerd always takes the steps for the exercise. It will be the perfect place for what I have in mind. The door opens and two girls bound down the stairs, giggling as I play with my cell phone until they are out of sight.
Once again, the door opens and I waste no time grabbing Dr. Anderson by the throat and literally picking his feet up off the ground.
“You sick son of a bitch, if you ever threaten my girlfriend again, I’ll beat your ass and then ruin your career!”
I let go and Bill slides down the wall resembling an egg that has been tossed against it in a cruel childhood prank.
I exit the stairwell and placed a smile on my face as if nothing had even happened. I learned a long time ago how to deal with issues and leave my professional mask intact. It goes with the job. Always give the appearance that everything is okay, whether it is or not.
The little shit is lucky that I didn’t step on his glasses and break them. If he wants to act like he is in high school, then I can treat him as such.
Even I am surprised by what Selena is bringing out in me—this primal need to protect. I will do anything to keep the woman I have fallen in love with safe… and I do mean anything.
Selena
I sit on the hospital bed, waiting for the nurse to take my blood. Eric had insisted that I be checked for any STD’s. I smile inwardly at how he had brought the subject up.
I have this need to be buried deep within you. You’re driving me crazy, girl. I need to fuck you and after that we will talk about wine, roses, and love making...
He had winked at me and then left me sitting at his desk with instructions on where to go to be discretely tested in the hospital.
The nurse who takes my blood sample never gives away that she knows we’re an item but I assume that she does because gossip runs rampant here in the hospital. I’m certain many hearts will be broken now that Dr. Eric Ozment is off the available Doctor list, but such is life… I don’t feel bad for any of them, just lucky that I’m the woman he is smitten with.
My life is overflowing with a kind of joy and satisfaction I have never before been privy to. I’m so grateful to be out of the lifestyle and away from Diego. I’ll never, ever go back.
Melanie
My heart races as I listen to the gravel beneath the tires and eye the remote wooded area around me.
“I don’t like this, Charles. Where are you taking me?”
The sinister look he gives me as he answers does nothing to ease my mind.
“Why don’t you like me bringing you here, Darling? You, of all people, should know that fear is a wonderful aphrodisiac.”
I slide my hand down to open the car door and I hear the locks click, signifying that there will be no escape.
“Tsk, tsk, where do you think that you are going? I specifically remember telling you that I want you to wear my engagement ring.”
“Well, Charles, I specifically remember telling you that I have no plans of marrying you.”
“We’ll discuss this after I get done licking your pussy until you come.”
He never ceases to amaze me with his sexual candidness. The question is, why does it turn me on?
His hands are turning me towards him and lifting my dress up before I have time to protest. In one swift move, my g-string is moved to the side and, thanks to my thigh highs giving him easy access, he has what he craves. I realize at that moment why he has only purchased thigh highs for me and not panty hose—easy access. I swear the man thinks of everything.
In a matter of seconds, I am leaned against the door writhing as he works his magic.
“Mmm, what if somebody drives back here?” I moan, as my fingers weave through his tousled, copper hair.
He raises his head up long enough to answer me, “I’ll shoot them and call the police. This is my cabin and my property. This is where I’ll bring you to string you up and spank that sweet ass of yours with a cane until you’re marked for my pleasure. Just think, Dear, no one will hear your screams.”
Though the thought that this is his property eases my mind somewhat, the thought of a caning does not. As much as his hand hurt, I can’t imagine what a cane would feel like. His skilled tongue wins me over and I give in to the pleasure he is providing me.
He plunges two fingers into me, licking and talking in between the thrusts of his fingers.
“Tell me that you’ll wear my ring.”
“I don’t have a ring.”
“I brought you here to give it to you. Now, tell me you will wear it or I’m going to tease you all night and not let you come.”
I can see his face in the darkness as he looks at me and speaks again. “Pull a tit out and play with it.”
I slide the v-neck in my dress over and pull out my breast, tickling a nipple with the pad of my index finger as he continues to work his magic with only his hands now. I can tell he is enjoying watching me and I am damn sure enjoying putting on a show for him. He is slowly but surely ridding me of any sexual inhibitions.
“Such a dirty girl, out here in the woods, putting on a show for me. Tell me you’ll wear my ring or you are going to be one frustrated, little, dirty girl.”
“Yes, yes, just let me come, pleeeeeeeze.”
“Well, I aim to please when it comes to you, baby girl.”
Once again, his head lower
s and doesn’t resurface until he has pulled two raging orgasms from my body.
I’ve sold my soul to the devil and I don’t even care. Not seeing Charles Wentworth III isn’t an option. He is in my system and no one else can provide me with what he gives me—a perfect concoction of euphoria produced with the endorphins and dopamine that no one else has the recipe for.
The man is as unpredictable as the weather and I am now an adrenaline junkie who loves flirting with his danger. Charles won’t be satisfied until he has all of me and, ironically enough, neither will I…
Dr. Ozment
Across town, I make love to the woman I have fallen head over heels in love with. I gently play her body, providing her with the two things she has never had—security and love. I am just what Selena needs to heal a lifetime of abuse and pain. The only question is, will I be able to keep her safe? Will I be able to keep her safe from a Colombian thug? Will a visit from Rene be enough to convince him that Selena is not worth the trouble anymore because of the heat she will bring down on him? The threat of police presence is normally enough to keep criminals at bay and I can only hope it works in this instance. There is also the issue that I have no way of knowing that the man I attacked in the stairwell, just hours ago, is a full blown serial killer and his next mark is the woman I’m making love to.
Chapter Seventeen
Dr. Anderson
“Biiiiillllll!”
I cringe every time I hear my fiancée Evelyn’s voice yelling out my name. Her voice reminds me of fingernails going down a chalkboard, but the irritation is magnified. I. Want. To. Kill. The. Bitch.
I haven’t had a good day. Being slammed against a stairwell wall and threatened by Eric has not only wounded my pride, it has ruined any chance of me being able to get rid of that whore, Selena.
I find myself wishing on a daily basis now that I could kill Evelyn. I inwardly smile as I think about the look on her face when I reveal to her that she is engaged to a necrophiliac serial killer.
One word and one word only comes to mind: priceless. Maybe I will do it just for the satisfaction of seeing the shock on her face. Then I can play the bereaved boyfriend and get everyone’s sympathy.
That’s a thought…
Regardless of what I do, someone needs to die. I’m getting the itch and it is getting harder and harder to keep the monster within me at bay.
My mind is filled with intrusive thoughts of blood being shed by my hands. I fantasize about grabbing some unknowing, unwilling woman and choking the life right of her throughout my work day. It isn’t normal to look at a patient and daydream about killing her but, fuck, I’m anything but normal. I am in a rage. A constant volcano of hidden and unresolved anger brews deep within my core. What was safely hidden from public view now threatens to boil over into my daily life. This is not good. It’s not good for me and it’s definitely not good for my next victim.
This is always what happens after a kill. It’s all just a vicious cycle I can never escape. Directly after the kill, the beast within me is sated, but then the anger starts again. It builds and it builds until it’s a rage that’s impossible to control, much less hide.
I’m angry, very fucking angry. That isn’t a good thing for a man who has to put on a front of being in complete control for the masses. Are any of us ever in complete control? No, the only time I feel in control is when I hold a woman’s life in the balance. I need that feeling of omnipotence. I need to vent my anger. I need to kill…
Dr. Ozment
After making love to my beautiful woman last night, I made my mind up that today is the day I’m setting some things straight. I cut my eyes at Evelyn as I speak. I am pissed and I’m tired of her shenanigans.
“Evelyn, I don’t want you flitting around in my office on your quest for water cooler gossip fodder anymore. My fiancée is taking care of any of my office issues from here on out.”
I am certain her thirst for gossip far outweighs any ability she has to be embarrassed of the fact that she has been called out on her behavior.
“Oh my, we have a wedding coming up?” she answers.
I turn to Selena and roll my eyes.
This woman is incorrigible.
Evelyn scurries out of my office and I’m convinced it’s because she can’t take the chance of having some other nurse beat her to the punch with the latest gossip. She does have a reputation to uphold. Yeah, I’ve pegged her correctly. Evelyn IS incorrigible.
Chapter Eighteen
Dr. Anderson
Shanta leans down into the white man’s Cadillac, making sure to show some of her ample cleavage. She smacks and pops on the gum she’s chewing, as she propositions him.
“Hey baby, for twenty dollars I’ll suck your dick, for fifty you can fuck me, and for a hundred, you can do any damn thing you want to me.”
I give her a bright smile and respond, “Well then, Sweetie, it appears to me that you are going to be a hundred dollars richer.”
And what I want to do to is squeeze the breath of life right out of you. I want to watch the darkness overtake your soul as that last, little bit of light that you do have left in those eyes of yours flickers out. You fucking whore!
Shanta wasted no time getting into the car. She was certain that she could get the little dicked white man off in no time and be right back out on the streets to make more money.
Her pimp had been in a foul mood when he dropped her off on the strip tonight and getting an ass beating when she got home was not on her to do list. Going home with three or four hundred dollars ensured her safety and maybe even some dick from Daddy. Yes, it was going to be a good night, or so she thought…
Evelyn
I’m lying in the empty bed, crying. Nothing, and I do mean nothing, is going right. Bill is out until all hours of the night and I am certain he must be seeing another woman.
I need to get him down the aisle and then I don’t give a damn what he does. I’m marrying him for prestige and money, not love. To top it off, now that beautiful, dark haired, exotic beauty is marrying Eric and their wedding is the talk of the hospital.
Well, Bill is going to have to let up off his wallet because I have no intentions of being outdone ceremony wise. I let out a loud wail just thinking about it as I flood the pillow with tears and snot.
How dare those two steal my thunder. My wedding is supposed to be the talk of the hospital, not theirs. Why in the world did they have to decide to get married now?
Nothing is going the way it’s supposed to. I spent all that time manipulating circumstances to my liking and now things aren’t going as projected. I just need to put a rush on things. This is nothing that a few black credit cards and some serious conniving can’t fix. With the way my soon to be husband is already ignoring me, it shouldn’t be too hard to keep him in the dark.
My life sucks, this is just awful!
I beat the mattress in frustration as a fresh wave of tears soaks the pillow. This is just so not fair…
Black Rose
I’m sitting in nothing but blue jeans, unbuttoned at the top, straddling my woman’s half nude body after I throw her skirt and g-string across the room. I have been tormenting her by tickling her. I continue the torture each time she tells me that she won’t become my new wife.
“I’m an independent woman, Charles. I have no intention of marrying any man.”
“Oh, come on. Marry me,” I tease her, “and then you can’t testify in court about any of my depraved behavior.”
“There isn’t anything criminal about your sexually deviant desires.”
“I can assure you, my little innocent one, there are criminal elements to the man who is fucking you.”
I wrap my fingers around her throat until they are touching at the back of her neck. Her eyes fill with the terror that makes my cock hard and I lean down and whisper, “Get those fucking knees back by your shoulders.”
She can feel her breath being controlled by my large hand that has begun squeezing. I pull at my
zipper and tug at my pants while my hand remains around her neck.
I waste no time thrusting my hard cock into her soaked pussy as I stare her down, choking her enough to cut off some air, but not all of it.
“I don’t like ultimatums, refusals, or denials. What I like is control. You and I are headed down to the courthouse to elope tomorrow. Isn’t that right, Dear?”
She quickly nods her head in acquiescence, just to get the air her body is so desperately in need of.
I rise up, glaring into her eyes as I rotate my hips. My simultaneous pumping and grinding give her the friction of a good fucking while, at the same time, my cock is stimulating her clit. When I see she is going to come, I clamp both of my large hands over her throat. I choke her until she almost passes out right as she climaxes.
It is the best fucking orgasm she has ever experienced. The puddle beneath her is evidence of her squirting all over the sheets. The liquid cries out in testimony against her; she is just as kinky as I am.
Agent Turner
I wake up to the sound of my phone ringing and groan. Two hours of sleep isn’t sufficient for anyone; this had better be good. My Mistress had me up until all hours of the morning, subjecting me to her special brand of torment that I now can’t seem to live without. She is a drug and I am her willing and eager addict.
“Alright, I’m on my way.”
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Rene growls from the other side of the bed.
“I thought you were asleep.”
“Yeah, David, you just never know with me. Now answer my question.”
“It appears our serial killer has struck again, or tried to.”
I watch as she gets up and throws on the standard black and white the FBI is known for. I just shake my head. She doesn’t permit her property (me) to be out of her sight now. She is very territorial and a real bitch about anything concerning me… and I fucking love it. I have no time to argue with her right now. I am probably safer keeping her close to me anyway, so that I don’t get myself into trouble. The bruises on my backside from last night confirm what I already know—a happy Mistress is a safe and sane sub. If she wants to monitor my every fucking breath, it’s fine by me. The woman is obsessed with me and I am obsessed with her obsession of me. I’m her willing boy toy, connected to her like an enamored, star struck fan.
Black Rose Page 10