by Marni Mann
It’d all begun when I was back in San Diego, during a weekend off from the prison. I’d flown home to spend some time with my father. He was short-staffed and had asked if I would help out.
So, I was in the Gaslamp Quarter, dropping off a few bags of pills to one of the bar owners, and that was when I saw Toy. He was outside the bar I was at, feeding pigeons the ashes from his cigarette. It was one of the hottest things I’d ever seen.
But Toy was somewhat of a mess. It was a cool day, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. His jeans sagged low on his crack, and there was a chain hanging out of his pocket with nothing attached to it.
What fucking guy wears a chain with no wallet?
A broke-ass one or one who doesn’t give a shit.
My Toy was both.
I stood inside the bar, watching him, until he ran out of ash. Then, he stomped out the cig and started walking. Something, I wasn’t sure what, made me follow him, and I stayed a few feet behind as he headed down the sidewalk. I was hunting him, like I had done before I built my playground, and it was the biggest turn-on.
It didn’t seem like he had anywhere to be or a destination in mind. He never stopped to catch his breath, never checked out a menu from one of the restaurants, never spoke to anyone he passed.
He just walked.
And I followed.
I had no fucking idea what I would say to him whenever we ended up speaking. I just knew I couldn’t leave without hearing his voice.
The chance happened sooner than I’d thought.
On the other side of the crosswalk was a bench. As soon as Toy made it across, he stopped behind it, leaning against the backside of the metal armrest. I paused at the entrance of the sidewalk, my feet balancing on the curb.
Only his profile showed, his eyes focused on the ground, as he said, “I must have something you want because I shoulda lost you by now.”
“You interest me.”
“Why’s that?”
“Maybe it’s the chain. Or the ass crack I’ve been staring at for the last ten blocks. Or the scratches on your back.” They were red and deep, and I could tell they’d come from a human. “I want to leave my own set of marks on you.”
He finally turned around, and we made eye contact. “What kind of marks?”
Jesus, he’s fucking hot.
His looks wouldn’t scream at someone who was searching for perfection. Toy’s face was far from that. The scars on his cheeks told me he’d been in several fights. His nose had been broken and never properly healed. But what made him so goddamn sexy were his eyes and the lightness in his expression. Toy looked at me as though he already trusted me, enough so that he’d first spoken to me without even turning around.
No one did that.
At least not someone who valued their life.
Nothing about me was trusting or carefree. I thrived on control, and so did the men I worked with. I needed to spend some time with someone like him. Someone light. Someone who didn’t need anything from me.
“I want to take two metal hooks and pierce them through your flesh, right over the top of your shoulder blades,” I said. “Then, I want to clamp you to a set of wires and raise you into the air. While blood is dripping from the holes in your back, forming a pool on the floor, I want your dick to be in my mouth. I want your cum on my tongue. I want to swish that shit between my teeth like it’s fucking mouthwash, and then I want to spit it into my hand and wipe it onto my face. I don’t care if it stinks, if it peels, if it irritates my skin; I’m not washing you off. Before I let you get dressed, I want to mark you by biting Ss all over your body.”
I expected him to take a swing at me. I didn’t even know if he liked cock or if he was only into pussy.
But he didn’t raise his fist at all. What he did next made me want to bend him over the bench and shove my cock in his ass, bareback.
He said, “I’m ready. Let’s make it happen.”
He then started walking again. Only this time, I led.
That was my boy.
He didn’t need to think; he just knew.
And it made my dick even harder for him.
For a while, I would only see Toy when I came back to San Diego on my days off. That lasted about a year, and then the prison started getting busier, and I wasn’t able to fly to the States as often as I had before. In the time between our visits, I found myself wondering what the hell he was up to, where he was sleeping, who he was fucking. I was getting angrier, more violent than I already was. My father, the shrink, told me it was my mind’s way of missing Toy.
My father was probably right.
I just knew I didn’t like having those feelings.
So, I explained to Toy what I did when I was out of town—a topic I’d avoided until now—and I offered him a job.
He took it immediately, and he became one of our sweepers, meaning he cleaned out the cells after the prisoners were executed, he prepared food when the guards were too busy, he tossed the limbs into The Pit once they were severed off. He did all the bitch work, and he never complained.
When he wasn’t working, he was in my bed, constantly trying to please me.
And I found myself with the strongest desire to nurture him.
Toy had been on his own since he was sixteen. He’d learned to fend for himself, to survive on practically nothing. It was time someone spoiled him, and that person was going to be me.
Things were smooth for a while, but they didn’t stay that way.
Toy had a rough time handling what went on at the prison. He drank a lot and took a shit-ton of pills. They made him feel carefree again. They made him forget. They made all the death tolerable.
The cocktail almost killed him.
More than once.
But there were times when the combination of the liquor and pills made him so carefree that I took things extra far, like the night he told me his teeth got in the way of sucking my cock. If Toy wanted his teeth out, I’d make it happen.
And I did.
I took a hammer and knocked out the two front ones. Jesus, he gummed my dick like nothing I’d ever felt.
It wasn’t enough for him.
He wanted to feel my flesh between his tongue. The only way to make that happen was to saw it in the middle, stopping halfway down. He said it was for him, so he could please me in a way he couldn’t before. But the torture I put him through, the blood that drained from his mouth, was all for me. I covered myself in it. Coated it over my cock. Then, I came right in the pool of it.
It made me so fucking happy, and I hadn’t even killed him.
I’d ripped out plenty of tongues in that prison. I’d just never split any of them, so I didn’t know how long it would take to heal. Within a few weeks, he was able to test it out. Now, both sides could move. They could wrap; they could rub against my shaft.
Nothing had ever felt better.
I loved it.
And I loved him.
Fuck, I still do.
Twelve
Huck
“Sir,” Lawan said as I held the phone up to my ear.
“I hope you have news for me.” I closed the spreadsheet I had been working on and pulled up the live feeds from downstairs.
Lawan’s backup was sitting at the front desk, which told me Lawan was with Arin, like I’d asked. There were two men in the lounge and at least ten girls in the museum. Things were running just fine with her gone.
“Arin’s out of the shower, sir. She’s in her room now.”
“Where are you?” I clicked on the icon that brought up the footage of Arin’s room and watched her stand by the doorway, wearing only a towel, looking at the clothing Lawan had set on the bed.
“Headed to the desk, sir.”
“I want you to make sure she eats.”
Arin still hadn’t put anything but broth in her body. That wasn’t enough to get her stronger or to get any weight on her. She needed something solid to do that.
“I’ll bring her some bread in a
little bit.”
Arin’s towel dropped to the floor.
“Lawan, give her at least an hour,” I said, my hand grabbing my cock, trying to get it to calm down.
“No problem, sir.”
I disconnected the call and blew up the feed, so Arin took up my entire screen.
Fuck.
She had tits that would rest perfectly in the palms of my hands and an ass that didn’t have that much extra to squeeze. But her lack of fat wasn’t what made my teeth grind. What did that were the bruises that covered her flesh. They went across her stomach and around to her kidneys, and there were several more on her ass. Bite marks spanned the tops of her tits.
Those bastards had beaten the hell out of her.
Arin moved over to the bed and slipped her arms through the tank top. She didn’t bother with the bra or the panties. She didn’t even put on the shorts. Instead, she dropped all three items on top of the nightstand and then walked over to the wall where the picture of the snake was hanging.
Most of the chicks around here were scared of my snakes. They didn’t appreciate the slickness of snakeskin. The softness of their tongues. Their slithering sounds.
Yet snakes reminded me so much of women. They both had delicate, silky bodies, and they shared the same behavior right before they ate. They even rattled when they were stroked.
Women just couldn’t see past their fear of snakes. They would make a face when they glanced in their direction. They were too afraid to look them in the eyes. They backed up before they got too close.
Not Arin.
She at least didn’t act that way as she stared at the picture. And it appeared she couldn’t take her eyes off of it. She almost seemed…
Fuck no.
She can’t be—
Touching herself?
Jesus.
She was.
Her hand had lifted from her side and landed on her tit. I heard myself hiss as she circled around her nipple, squeezing it between two fingers, tugging on it like she needed it to hurt. Her other hand stayed low on her body and looked like it was moving toward her cunt. From this angle, I couldn’t get a good view of her, so I pulled up the second camera’s feed and zoomed in.
She was rubbing two fingers up and down her clit.
She’d been abused, her body was hurting, she was in a stranger’s fucking house, and she was masturbating.
There was no stopping my dick from getting hard now.
She took her hand off her nipple and pushed it against the wall to steady herself. Her fingers spread across the paint at the same time her legs widened.
Having a woman touch herself while she looked at my snake was the hottest fucking thing I’d ever seen, especially with someone as beautiful as Arin.
If she was going to come, I’d be right behind her.
I unbuttoned my jeans, pulled at the zipper, and dived in. Lifting the elastic waist of my boxer briefs off the middle of my shaft, I pushed all the fabric down to my thighs, spit on my hand, and gave myself a few strokes.
It felt good.
It felt even better as I watched her head lean back, her lips open, and her eyes close. I wished I could hear her sounds. I imagined they were similar to the whimpers from when I had carried her up the stairs. But, now, I bet they were longer, deeper, drawn out until they went straight into the next moan.
I wanted those noises vibrating over my cock.
She turned her face toward the camera, her chin resting on top of her shoulder just briefly before she bit herself. She was like one of my snakes right before it attacked its prey. She bared her teeth, she launched, and she held the skin and didn’t let go.
I was going to come, so I squeezed my crown to stop it.
By the way her elbow bounced, I could tell she wasn’t being gentle. She was pounding that goddamn cunt with speed and power.
I liked knowing she enjoyed both because it was exactly what I would give her if my cock were inside her. Except in there right now was her finger, another on her clit, and the image of that was so fucking hot.
I stroked my dick even harder and felt my balls start to tighten.
When she stopped biting, I could tell in her expression how close she was. I wanted her nails digging into my back with the same intensity as she was pushing against the wall. I wanted blood. I wanted fangs, and I wanted them to hurt.
Fuck, that pussy would feel so good.
Her body began to quiver.
So did mine.
Her hand moved even faster.
And so did mine.
I twisted around the tip of my cock, getting ready for the cum to drain, and after a few more thrusts into my wet palm, I shot my load. Waves of pleasure continued to pass through me as I slowed. Just as I caught my breath, Arin’s hand left the spot between her legs. She took one final glance at the snake and went over to the bed, sliding underneath the blanket and covering herself with it.
On the way out of the bathroom after washing my hands, I came to the door that led to my apartment. There was no reason to go through it. I still had so much work to do, I had nothing to say to Arin, and within the hour, Lawan would be bringing her food.
But something caused my feet to head in the direction of her room, and once again, I found myself at her door. Just before I knocked on it, I felt my cell vibrate from my pocket, and there was a text from my friend, Uel, on the screen.
Still haven’t heard a thing.
Fuck that, I thought to myself.
Instead of knocking and waiting for Arin to open the door, I just walked right in and went over to her bed.
She looked at me with eyes that were so goddamn wide and skin that was so flushed. “Do you want something?” she asked.
I scanned her body, pausing over her stomach where her hands were resting. I wanted to smell her fingers. I wanted to stick them in my mouth, so I knew what her pussy tasted like.
But, if I told her to give me her hands and I put her fingers into my mouth, she would know I had seen what just happened. I wasn’t ready to give up that secret. Because, if Arin touched herself again, I sure as fuck wanted to watch.
“Huck?”
I glanced at the nightstand where her bra, panties, and shorts rested, and then I gazed back at her. “Are you naked under those covers?” I knew the answer. I just wanted to hear her response.
It took her several seconds before she timidly said, “Mostly.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“I’m wearing a tank top.”
“So, your pussy’s bare?”
She yanked the blanket up to her chin, and her hands rested right underneath her nose. “Yes.”
She could smell herself, and I was fucking jealous.
“Why, Arin?”
“I…was hot.”
I walked over to the center of the room and pulled the cord of the ceiling fan to turn it on and then again for the highest setting. “That’ll cool you down.”
She looked more than hot.
She looked satisfied.
But she would have been much more satisfied if my tongue had given her that orgasm, and I wouldn’t have stopped there. My cock would have given her a second one. I would have then rubbed her clit, put a finger in her ass, and made her come a third time. She’d have had a freshly fucked face with a body that was fucking exhausted.
Now, at least, she had some color on her cheeks, and there was some life in those gorgeous eyes.
But those eyes were waiting for an answer, and I didn’t have one to give her. Nor did I have a reason to be in here. Nothing good would come of it or with me standing so close to her. All it would do was lead to more thoughts of her body, of an aching need to touch her, especially knowing that her naked pussy was underneath that blanket.
Not just naked but hairless, too.
And it had looked so tight and delicious.
“Huck?” she called as I walked to the door. I turned around to face her, and she said, “Don’t go.”
Thirt
een
Arin
Huck stood in the doorway, a hand hanging over the top of the wooden frame, another in his pocket. On his way out a few moments ago, I had told him not to leave my room. Now, he was waiting for me to tell him why.
I just wasn’t sure I could give him that answer.
Besides the short visits from Lawan, I’d been alone since the moment I arrived here. I was tired of the silence, the sleeping, the loneliness.
Before he’d come in, I’d taken a shower in the bathroom across the hall. Lawan had escorted me in there and gotten me a towel and a razor. I’d told her that I was weak, so she wouldn’t leave me. But, as soon as I’d gotten out, when it was time to put my clothes on, she’d said she would give me some privacy and disappeared down the stairs.
I missed familiarity.
I missed home.
I wanted something to make me feel normal again.
So, I’d walked over to the wall where the picture of the snake hung. There was something so sexy about its long, thick body. The shape of it reminded me of a man’s dick. Its skin made me think that, if it rubbed across my breasts, it would roughen up my nipples, just the way I liked a man to touch them.
God, just the thought of that made me wet.
I needed to feel like myself again.
Desired. Satisfied.
My hand had gone to my nipple, and slowly, it’d moved to my clit.
It was the same way I’d touched myself the last time I saw a snake. Of course, that reward hadn’t come until after I shot its head off. Its body had coiled right in front of me, its fangs had shown, and it’d looked like it was going to attack. But the snake hadn’t stood a chance of hurting me, not when there was a gun in my hand and my finger on the trigger. Seeing the blood and skin shoot into the air, hearing the pop as its body blew up, had all been such a rush.
I had gotten the same kind of rush when I stared at Huck’s snake, my trigger finger sliding between the lips of my pussy, rubbing myself until I orgasmed.