by Marni Mann
I couldn’t promise the last part. There were lies.
Maybe there would always be lies.
Just as I worried he had picked up on it, he moved on top of me. And, just as I thought he was going to bring it up, he plunged his dick straight into me.
Seventeen
Kyle
“Wake. The. Fuck. Up.” Following each of Breath’s syllables was a lick across the outer edge of my ear.
The odor from his mouth was enough to wake me up. Definitely enough to pop my eyelids open. Undoubtedly enough to cause my entire body to shake. His tongue was sharp and putrid. It felt like a razor slicing my earring hole through the bottom of my lobe. When I tried to move away from him, his palm drove into my cheek, which slammed the back of my head into whatever was behind it.
I tried lifting my hands. I tried kicking my legs.
I was tied up.
Again.
“Have you missed me, Kyle?”
Through the pitch-black that surrounded me, I saw stars. Sparkling little bursts of silver from hitting my head so hard. Then, there was the drip, drip, drip of my wet hair onto my naked back. The soaked strands clung to my cheeks and lashes. Every time I blinked, it felt like sand was scratching across my eyes. With my hands tied behind my back, I couldn’t pull the hairs out of them. I couldn’t rub them to make them feel better. I couldn’t even shake my head with his hand gripping my throat.
He’d taken my clothes off again. He’d bathed me.
“I’m just going to use you as a landing pad for my cum.”
My stomach churned as I thought about what else might be on my skin.
“No,” I finally said. “I haven’t—ow!”
Something clamped down on my nipple. It wasn’t sexual, like Garin’s fingers, or titillating, like his teeth. This was spiked like a barbed wire, and the points were piercing my skin.
“Why are you hurting me?” I cried.
“Wrong question.”
“What—”
He slapped my face so hard that my front teeth bit through the end of my tongue, and my mouth filled with blood. The copper taste didn’t mix well with my stomach, and I gagged. It was just enough of a heave to stir the acid in my stomach, and as it rose to my throat, he pushed my face to the side, so it wouldn’t get on him.
The heartless fucker didn’t even give me a break while I purged. He slapped the back of my head, like it would make the vomit come out faster.
“I’m done!” I yelled, my stomach empty, the back of my throat feeling as though he were holding a butane lighter to it. I licked the wetness off my lips and spit it out.
“I should make you swallow that.”
I wouldn’t taste it. My throat burned too badly, the fire masking all the flavors that were in my mouth.
He clasped something around my throat. It was as cold as ice, and it felt as though it had teeth, taking small little bites of my skin.
“Do you want me to make you swallow it? Scoop up everything you just puked on my floor and shove it down your fucking throat?”
I wasn’t sure I could give him an answer. Whatever was around my neck was squeezing tighter, wringing all the air out. Biting. Pinching.
Freezing me to death.
“Puta, do you want me to make you—”
“No!”
He laughed.
The sound made me never want to laugh again.
“It’s time.”
There was no warning. No flash of movement. Just his breath swishing through the air, past my face, and suddenly, I was in the air. He’d lifted the chair by the legs—this one obviously not bolted to the ground, like the other one had been—and as he roared, he threw me. I couldn’t scream, the vise on my throat was too tight. I couldn’t reach out to stop my face from hitting anything, as my hands were tied. I couldn’t see what I was headed for; it was too dark. So, I closed my eyes and tried to prepare myself for the fall.
Bang, bang…bang.
The chair banged against the floor. Each time it hit, the landing shook my body, made my muscles throb, sucked even more air out of me.
Kyle, breathe.
“Just how I want you—on your back with your legs spread.” He straddled my waist and sat on my stomach. “Puta, puta, puta, it’s time you ask the right question.”
My nostrils flared as I tried to breathe. With all of his weight on my belly, he was constricting even more of my air.
“Prove to me that you’re more than just a pretty face.”
“What do you want from me?”
I cried out as his fingernails stabbed my cheeks. They pushed in so far that my mouth opened, my tongue hanging past my bottom lip.
“Before you say another word, I want you to think. Stop fucking rambling, and think.”
He tightened the clamp on my nipple, but because of the way he was holding my mouth, I couldn’t scream. So, I whimpered and groaned and dripped tears down his fingers. None of it helped.
“You know why you’re here. You know why I put you in a cell with Garin.” He leaned forward and bit the end of my tongue. It was already so sore from when my teeth had stabbed it earlier.
The smell. The sensation. The pain.
I couldn’t take it.
I couldn’t breathe.
Just as the silvery stars started to return, he let up. But he didn’t release it. He wrapped his lips around my tongue and sucked it back and forth, like he was giving it head.
“Mmm,” he moaned, filling the air with a stench that made everything hurt even more. “This is what your cunt is going to do to my dick. It’s going to squeeze the fuck out of it just like this…” His suction tightened. “And its hotness and wetness and tightness is going to drain every bit of cum out of me.” He laughed again, his lips moving to my ear. “And then I’m going to give you to my boys. Do you know what my boys do to pretty girls like you?”
I grunted even though I knew the answer would make me feel worse.
“They’re going to gang-bang the living fuck out of you. And when you’re covered in all their cum, they’re going to cut you.” He moved to my other ear, pressing his lips so close that they touched the inside hole. “Like throwing a piece of meat inside a cage full of dogs. But these dogs have knives, and they like to butcher.”
Silence.
I was sure he was letting me ponder the terrifying reality of what was to become of me, and that was…I had no chance of getting out of here. I had no chance of surviving this. I was going to die in this prison, raped by however many men Breath employed. Filled with their cum.
And…
I couldn’t even wrap my head around the rest.
“You’re making me wait, Kyle, and I fucking hate it when people make me wait.” He stood and lifted the chair, so I was back to a seated position. “I’m going to show you just how much I hate it.”
His hands weren’t on my body anymore, his smell no longer in the air. But I heard him. Steps on the concrete, clothes swishing as he moved.
“Come here, babies. Come to daddy.”
What were his babies?
There were high-pitched sounds. Lots of them. I couldn’t place it, but it was all I heard, and the noises continued to get louder as each second passed.
“Come meet my friend.”
“No,” I cried.
I didn’t want to meet the source of the noise. I didn’t want more pain. I didn’t want—
“Ahh!” I screamed as the most intense burning seared through the ends of my toes.
I didn’t know what his babies were doing, what they were using, what the hell they were, but it felt like the skin was being sliced off. I couldn’t kick them away. I couldn’t move my legs. I couldn’t…
“What do you want?” I sobbed.
“Shut up.” The back of his hand slapped my mouth. Then, he squeezed my lips and pulled them until it felt like he was going to rip them off my face. “Don’t make another sound.”
The tears fell even faster—not just from the pain and
the fear, but also from the question I already knew he wanted the answer to. What didn’t make any sense was why he wanted this information. I couldn’t piece that part together. Everyone was dead.
Oh God…
The babies had moved up to my ankles. I wasn’t sure if I had any feet left. It felt like they had finished off the skin and were on to my muscles and bones.
“I’m losing my patience with you, Kyle.”
I shook my head, snot and drool flying off my face.
“When I release your lips, you’re going to ask the right question.”
The right question.
“Babies, stop!”
After his command, the gnawing on my toes immediately halted. The noises quieted. Then, his fingers left my mouth, my lips smacking back into place. But the hurt…the hurt stayed. I knew, if he flicked on the light, I’d see I was a bloody mess with wounds that may never heal.
“Don’t keep me waiting, Kyle.” A warning that he could make the babies start up again as quickly as he had made them stop.
My lips parted, spit dripping down both sides. My tongue burned as it hit the inside of my teeth. I swallowed. Whatever was wrapped around my neck hadn’t let up one bit.
“You want to know who killed Paulie.”
“Finally. The right fucking question.” His voice was more sexual than it was commanding. “You just made my dick hard.” He straddled me again, but this time, he didn’t sit.
I heard a zipper. A button popped open. The stench…if I had anything left in my stomach, it would have come out. It was so much worse than his breath. Molded cheese and decayed meat.
He pressed his dick against my cheek, running it up and down my skin, as though he were wiping off the drool. I wanted to turn my face and bite the fucker off. But I couldn’t do that. If there was even the slightest chance of me getting out of here, I would ruin it.
“Yes. I love how your tears feel against my dick.” He pressed his weak erection against my other cheek. “Say those words again, Kyle. My dick wants to feel them.”
I only opened my lips a tiny bit, fearing that he would stick his cock between them. “You want to know who killed Paulie.”
“Fuck,” he moaned. “That sounded so fucking hot. Now, make me harder, and tell me who did it.”
I didn’t know where the courage came from. I hadn’t felt it when I woke up in the darkness or when he was hurting me or when the babies had been eating me. But it was raging inside me, and it stirred on my tongue before I could stop it. “You might as well kill me because I’ll never tell you that.”
“You fucking cunt.”
His dick stopped rubbing against my cheek. All noise in the room was silenced. There was only breathing and his odor.
And pain.
So much of it. And so much blackness. Blackness that didn’t just come from the room.
Blackness that came from…
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Eighteen
Garin
One Month Ago
My cell vibrated from the inside of my jacket pocket as I walked down the hallway to my bedroom. Shitty fucking timing. Had it been one minute later, my cock would have been in the ass of one of the twins. They weren’t identical. I wasn’t even sure they were sisters. But, hell, they both had blonde hair and light eyes, and they responded to the nickname. That was easier than remembering their names.
I’d left them in my bedroom a few minutes ago to get us some drinks. They were naked, kneeling on the bed. I was sure they were still in the same position, just waiting to suck the cum out of me. Those filthy mouths couldn’t get enough of my cock. They pumped that fucker with every part of their body until they got what they wanted—every goddamn squirt of it. Then, they ate it off me. They swapped it between their mouths. And they swallowed that shit down.
I fucking loved it when they came to my place.
But Billy’s name was on the screen of my phone, so they were going to have to wait a few more minutes before I joined them.
I walked to the doorway of my bedroom, set the glasses down on the floor, and held up a finger to let them know I’d be back. Then, I went into my home office and shut the door behind me. “What’s going on, Billy?”
“I met someone that said she used to do side work for my brother.”
I took a seat in the chair, shifting my pants to make room for my hard-on. Seeing those two bare pussies again had made my dick throb. “I thought you were going to take a break from this shit?”
“I was.” He exhaled a mouthful of smoke. “But then I came across this chick, and my search picked right back up. She said Paulie owed her money when he died.”
“That tells me nothing.”
“She’s a hooker, Garin.”
I shook my head, knowing this was just going to lead to more needles and black tar. “So, Paulie liked to get his dick wet with hookers. How the fuck is that going to help us find out who killed him?”
“Because he didn’t fuck her. This chick worked for him, and the money was for some tricks that he never paid her for.”
I pushed the chair back and leaned on the desk. “What are you talking about?”
“She said she wasn’t his only hooker. He had others, and none of them got paid.”
“Paulie wasn’t running a prostitution ring. We would have known.”
“Maybe we were wrong.”
Nah. I wasn’t fucking wrong.
Paulie ran drugs for the bosses. He didn’t work in prostitution. Prostitution was street level, and the bosses didn’t mess with it. The profits were risky because the girls OD’d faster than the guys could hire them.
When you worked for Mario and his crew, you didn’t have a side job or another source of income. The bosses owned you, and they gave you a small piece of your total earnings. If you tried to hide money, they found you…and they killed you.
The bosses hadn’t killed Paulie. We’d determined it was an outside job back when the murder happened, and the bosses knew nothing about the killer. But, if information was just now surfacing, there was a chance they’d heard about it.
“I’ll talk to the bosses,” I said. “But don’t expect this to lead to anything. If anyone knew what Paulie was up to, they were smart enough to keep their mouth shut. Do me a favor; keep yours shut, too—at least until I talk to the guys and get a better idea of what’s going on here.”
“Too late.”
Fuck.
“Who’d you talk to?”
“Guys on the street. You know, the dealers who worked in the area at that time.”
Those dealers still worked for the bosses, so I was sure word had spread. I was surprised Mario hadn’t said anything to me about it.
“Did they know anything?” I asked.
“Nothing. Not even one of ’em had a clue on what Paulie was up to.”
He sounded deflated. I knew it wasn’t just from searching for Paulie’s killer.
“All right,” I said, “I’ll take it from here, but I want you laying low. If rumors start flying that Paulie had a side gig, the bosses are going to be pissed, and it’s not going to look good if you’re the one spreading them.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“While you’re laying low, how about you get some sleep? You sound like shit.”
I checked the screen of my phone. I’d been talking to Billy for almost ten minutes, and the girls hadn’t made a noise. I hoped one of them was still on her knees, her tongue running over the other’s cunt. I fucking loved watching them eat pussy.
“I’m fine.”
It made me crazy whenever he said that. He wasn’t healthy. He wasn’t rested. He wasn’t eating. He definitely wasn’t sleeping. He was shooting as much heroin as his body could handle. Every time I spoke to him, he sounded worse than the last time.
“You’re not fine. We both know it.”
“Don’t fucking worry about me. If you lecture me every time we talk, I’m going to stop calling you.”
If he stopped cal
ling me, I’d have one of the guys track him down and shadow him, sitting with him every minute of the goddamn day. Telling him that would only start a fight. And fighting with Billy meant he’d only use more.
I couldn’t be the reason he cooked up more dope…considering I was the reason he’d started using in the first place.
“I’ll call you when I know something.”
He chuckled. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow then.”
“Yeah, tomorrow.”
I hung up and set the phone on my desk, knowing I’d call him whether I knew something or not. Maybe if I could get some answers or at least a little resolution, Billy would go to rehab for me.
I shook the mouse beside my computer, and the monitor lit up. I clicked on the feed for the master bedroom security camera, and a full-angle shot of my room popped up. I zoomed in on the bed. One of the twins was on her back, her head on my pillows, her knees bent. The other was buried, face-deep, in her cunt.
Just how I wanted them.
I exited the feed, left my phone on the desk, and walked to my bedroom.
Nineteen
Kyle
The lights flipped on. I could almost feel the electricity running through the wires and into the bulbs. It was like the current was running through me. It drove my eyes open, made my head thrash back and forth; it forced me to scream. It felt like I’d been electrocuted—not just pain, but an excruciating amount of agony pounded in every part of me.
And I was still here…in the torture chamber. Still tied to the chair. Still naked.
When I tried to speak, my tongue ached from where I had bitten into it, where Breath had chomped on it. My cheeks hurt from where he had squeezed and slapped. My toes…
I looked down, and the ends of my toes were raw. The tops of my feet looked like a dog’s chew toy. My ankles looked like they had been painted red. The babies hadn’t just bitten me; they had fed on me. And the blood wasn’t just on my body; it was all over the floor.