“Thomas,” she whispered feverishly, “I'm ready now. Give me that dick. I can't bear another minute. I want it. I want it now.”
Thomas smiled impishly, “Very well, my love.”
And with that, their love making commenced. With Alyssa on her back, Thomas parted her legs and stuffed his cock into her. She shivered with excitement. He then began working his hip, giving the walls of her vagina the workout of a lifetime. He was big and powerful and all that she wanted. Her eyes rolled back as his dick hit the edge of her pussy. It was fantastic.
“Do you love this cock?” Thomas asked as he pumped her furiously, “Well do you?”
Alyssa struggled to reply; her body melting from satisfaction. She was overjoyed by the fuck, “It's the best. Yes! Yes! I love it.”
“Say 'yes, Master.'”
“Yes, Master! I love your wonderful cock. Give me more! Don't hold back. Just keep fucking me like that!”
Thomas smirked and complied with her wishes. He was her first and only, and he had exclusive rights to her pussy. The fact that he had gotten her to associate him with the high of cocaine also helped to bewitch her. She needed him the way she needed food. Thomas' pace doubled when he felt he was about to cum. Finally, he ejaculated vigorously inside of her, leaving her sprawled out, sweaty and thoroughly well fucked.
They lay there for a while, feeling the warmth of the pool’s heat lamps on their bodies, murmuring sweet nothings. Later, they clothed themselves and went inside to have dinner. It was a love spread of the most tender steak, stuffed potatoes, asparagus and salad; perfect for restoring their much needed strength. They talked a bit, but Thomas noticed that Alyssa's mind seemed to be some place else.
“What's the matter?” Thomas asked, sounding worried.
“Oh, it's nothing. I was just wondering if you had any more coke. It's been a while since I had some.” She looked up at him nervously.
“Oh I see. Come over here, Alyssa.” She went over to him and Thomas turned his chair from the table. “I do have some left, but you'll have to work for it.” At this point, Thomas unzipped his pants, causing his dick to protrude. “I want you to suck me.”
Alyssa gulped, “Suck? But, Thomas, I've never done that before. I'm no good at it.”
Thomas sighed and reached into his pocket, revealing the white powder. “You'll get better at it. Now get on your knees and begin.”
Alyssa did as she was told. She got on her knees, held the base of his cock and put the tip in mouth. She began sucking his spout faster and faster, generating as much saliva as she could. Soon his cock completely filled her mouth. She felt her cheeks being suffused with redness.
“A-Ah, Alyssa. You're actually not too bad at this. Keep sucking.” He looked delightfully down on her submissive figure and smiled with superiority. “Now tell me. Do you love how my cock tastes?”
Alyssa paused her sucking to look at Thomas. “Y-Yes,” she answered.
“Yes, what?” he demanded sternly.
“Y-Yes, Master.”
“Good girl. I'll reward you once my cock is satisfied.”
Chapter 7
June, 1994
It was not a good time for twenty-three -year-old Thomas Winchester. His separation from Megan had left him in a quandary. He still could not believe she’d broken up with him. He had spent weeks replaying their relationship in his head, trying to figure out what, if anything, he had done. Why had she made her sudden and uncalled-for decision? He could think of nothing he’d done wrong, and concluded that the love of his life had just been a two-faced, self-centered little bitch. His loathing sustained him for a short while, but soon confusion and the need for closure re-arrested him. His downward spiral told him just how much Megan had meant to him.
He started to hang out with his buddies once again, some of whom he hadn’t spoken to since he and Megan had become serious. Seeing how devastated he was, they were sympathetic and welcomed him back to the fold. Once they became more comfortable with each other they could even tease him about it.
One night, five of them gathered for a game of poker. The chips were low but everyone was starting to raise their bids as if they had all suddenly drawn perfect hands simultaneously. Thomas looked at the face cards on the table and the pocket deuces he held in his hand; he didn't feel he could bluff his way to winning this round:
“Fold,” he announced with a heavy, disappointed sigh.
The four other players looked at him, mildly surprised. Suddenly, Huey, the tallest member at the table started chuckling.
“Why so glum, Thomas? You only just lost a hand at poker. It's not like you lost a hand at marriage.”
At this, the other young men joined in the bittersweet laughter. Even Thomas cracked a stoic little smile, showing he was okay with the wise crack.
“But seriously, Thomas,” said Greg, another friend, “did Megan ever explain the real reason she left you?”
The atmosphere suddenly grew cold. Huey immediately used the back of his hand to slap Greg's shoulder, “Hey, man. Not cool. Leave it alone.”
“But come on, you guys,” Greg continued, “aren't you all the least bit curio—”
“Knock it off,” Huey interrupted with finality. “If Thomas wanted to discuss his love life, he would have done so. Now grow a dick and stop with the gossip, all right?”
The room became quiet, broken only by Thomas' own voice:
“Thanks, Huey.”
“Anytime, bud. Now on with game.”
Surprisingly or unsurprisingly, Huey won the round.
*
Thomas sat at the park moping. He was oblivious to birds chirping, and the warm wind rustling softly through the trees.
“Um, excuse me. Thomas?”
Thomas looked around at the sound of his name. A short, slight, pretty girl was staring nervously back at him. He’d seen her before, he thought, but he couldn’t remember where.
“Can I help you?”
“Y-Yes. I don't know if you recognize me, but I'm Betsy, Megan's friend. Do you remember me?”
Thomas looked intently at the young woman, searching his mind for her image. Fortunately, one memory did surface of Betsy walking with him and Megan to the plaza.
“Oh hi, Betsy. I remember you. What's up?” he asked almost dryly.
Betsy approached and sat next to him, “Well here's the thing... I hope I'm not being too forward, but I've always sort of had a crush on you.” She paused to acknowledge Thomas' mild bewilderment. “I know, it sounds weird, but Megan was well aware of my feelings for you. I don't want to put you in an uncomfortable position but... would you maybe... like to go out some time?”
Thus, their brief tryst began. He invited her back to his apartment and listened to her spill her guts out. Soon a vindictive urge set in. Mostly to see what she’d do, he asked her to take off her clothes. Though he half intended to take back his words and claim he was joking, he was surprised when Betsy promptly embraced her naked form. Though she wasn't as hot as Megan, she had some sexuality oozing from her.
Thomas began testing her will, trying to gauge just how much her unrequited love would allow her to submit to him. He made her bend over and he fingered her pussy. He watched as she grew more and more aroused; viewed the dripping splendor of her vagina. He tested probing her with two fingers and learned that it pleased her greatly. He slapped her ass and listened to her hungry moaning. He had complete control over her emotions and he liked that. His own erection surprised him, and so, he sought to relieve the sexual tension. His cock entered her, and he could hear her struggling to contain herself. Betsy was actually tighter than Megan. This made Thomas put more into fucking her than he had originally intended.
Thomas wasn't sure why he had sex with Betsy; he only knew he wasn't completely against liberating himself by sexual means. When he did cum inside of her, it gradually dawned on him that he had overreacted to his break up with Megan. After all, Betsy made him realize that there were plenty of other fish in the sea. Ther
eafter, Thomas regained a bit of his self confidence. He felt pretty great, that is, until he ran into Megan at their favorite coffee shop.
Suddenly all his angst came rushing back, and he found himself begging Megan to give him another chance. This made things all the harder.
“I'm sorry, Thomas, but I've moved on. I'm happy with Shane. He makes me happy.”
“But you were happy with me; I made you happy! Didn't I?”
Megan sighed and looked away, “Not in the same way, Thomas. You... you just knew how to push my buttons. You knew how I operated. Our love was mechanical. Shane and I are... more natural. I love him.”
Thomas felt a pinch in his heart, “Isn't there any way we could still—”
“Thomas,” she interrupted, “I'm already pregnant. Shane and I are expecting a baby girl. Look, I have to go. I wish you all the best with your life.” With that, she left.
Thomas stood there, shaking like a leaf. Any sense of power he had derived from sleeping with Betsy was gone. How could this have happened? His ex-fiancée, who had told him she didn't want children, was now pregnant with some other guy’s child. This revelation was like a dagger to Thomas's heart. So great was his shame that Thomas entered a bibulous state. But all the alcohol in the world could not save him from the unbearable truth. Megan was happy without him, and he was completely miserable.
But Thomas had grit and a strong survival instinct. It wasn’t long before he channeled all his anger, all his energy and all his talent into business; becoming unscrupulously richer every day.
Chapter 8
April, 2015
When Alyssa began to dress more boldly and to become more social, everyone around her noticed, but no one knew what to make of it. She had always been sweet and a bit shy; always seeming to wait on others to lead a conversation. But suddenly, she seemed... different; confident, and at the same time, less adorable. Her friends welcomed the change. All, that is, except Michael, who kept his distance. Her parents tip-toed around it. Even though Alyssa now had an outgoing personality, there was only one man reaping the benefits of her flirtatious attitude, and that man was none other than Thomas Winchester.
Mr. Winchester sat in his large, modern kitchen, reading the editorial of his favorite newspaper. He had a cup of tea near him on the table. Without taking his eyes off the paper, he picked up the cup and sipped it with such gentility, one would think he was the king of England. He sipped slowly. He could afford to wait; he felt as if all he had been hoping for would soon come to pass. His plan had played out perfectly, and today he would see just how successful he had been.
Thomas' servant, Daniel, approached him at the table and whispered into his ear, announcing the arrival of his guest. Thomas smiled cunningly and told Daniel that his instructions from earlier were to be carried out. He intended for his guest and himself to once again secure the complete privacy of the east wing. As Daniel left the room, Alyssa walked in. Thomas looked at her and massaged his chin. She had on a tight tee-shirt and a short skirt. Thomas got up and signaled her over, leading her into the adjoining room. Neither spoke; they stood looking at each other.
Thomas stepped toward her and placed his hand beneath her skirt. She wore no panties; he was pleased. She was learning. He tugged on her tee twice and, as expected, she stripped off all her clothes.
“Good,” replied Thomas.
“Sit,” he commanded like a pet owner. Alyssa got on her knees without question. Thomas then tapped his crotch twice, and Alyssa reacted by unzipping his pants, taking out his erect penis and putting it into her mouth. She worked her tongue seductively, showing him how good she had become. “Good girl.” Thomas looked down at his large cock being anxiously devoured by this young girl. It rejuvenated him and validated his grand ambition. “I could fuck your mouth for hours, my dear.”
Thomas held her head and began to fuck her face, ramming his cock into the back of her throat. Alyssa hummed; pleasing him was her only immediate goal. In a way, she took pride in her blow-job expertise. She loved his dick; it was the gateway to more invigorating drugs. Thomas had conditioned her well! He felt his orgasm approaching fast, so he pulled out and sprayed his sticky love juices all over Alyssa's face and into her mouth. He watched as she cleaned his dick with her mouth.
“Very good, Alyssa. I'm proud of you. I know you're a bit horny and... a bit needy, but you'll have to wait until after dinner. Clean up first.”
And so they dined together. Alyssa sat naked at the table as he requested, and the two talked as they always did. When the meal was finished, they returned to his bedroom. This time, Thomas placed a leash around Alyssa's neck and set her on the floor on her hands and knees. He then removed his belt, dropped his pants and got behind her.
“Say it,” he declared suddenly.
Alyssa looked over her shoulder and muttered to him, “Fuck me, Master.”
With that, Thomas, with his left hand, gripped the leash around her neck and pulled as his cock went inside her. With his right hand he struck her on her back with the belt as if she were a horse.
“Say it again!”
“Fuck me, Master.”
“Louder!”
“Fuck me, Master!”
Thomas pounded her pussy from behind, commanding her to push her ass toward him. The clapping sound of their bodies filled the room. This was perfect. He had her just the way he wanted her; in total submission and eager to be fucked by him. This aroused him further. He ended up lasting an hour and filled her pussy with his manly semen. Finally, he made her clean his cock with her mouth.
“You've done well today, Alyssa. Here's your reward.” He tossed a bag onto the floor, and watched her scurry over to it like a starving mouse. He relished her state of uncontrollable addiction. Perhaps his plan was nearing completion.
*
Alyssa sat at her desk in her room, snorting cocaine. Then she flung herself onto her bed as she waited for the fullness of the effects. Thank god Thomas didn’t find fault with me and cut me off! She was so happy! Sure, her performance at school was gradually dropping, and she had, in fact, lost some weight. But it was all worth it if she could maintain her high. She had never been a sad person, so her newly found depression surprised her. Luckily she had her “presents” from Thomas to smooth her over.
For a moment, her past and future obscurely flashed before her eyes, and suddenly she felt the need to cry. So she took a little more of the drug, until finally she felt peace. She lay sprawled on the bed, her vision slowly going dark.
Two hours later, her mother approached her door and knocked. When there was no answer she entered. “Alyssa, dinner's ready. Aren't you coming down?” She looked at her daughter's strange alignment on the bed, and then noticed the bags laying next to her. Suddenly her motherly instinct kicked in. She rushed over and began examining the bags. Startled, she shook Alyssa, trying to wake her.
“Alyssa, wake up. Alyssa, can you hear me? I said wake up!” Panic set in. Was this the reason Alyssa seemed so different lately? She was doing drugs? Impossible! There was no way she would succumb to peer pressure and discard her future like this. And yet the evidence lay right there on the bed. A stream of tears rushed down the mother's cheeks. How could this have happened? Where did she go wrong? What if this was a lethal overdose? This thought alone sent a shiver down her spine and reminded her that she had to act fast.
“Shane!” she shouted, causing her voice to reach every room in the house, “Quick! Call an ambulance!”
Chapter 9
April, 2015
Megan sat next to her daughter's bed in the hospital room, struggling to keep her tears in check. Watching Alyssa's unconscious figure devastated her, and her mind swirled with torturous thoughts and self-condemnation. She sat alone for now. Shane had taken a walk; the debilitated state of his only daughter had been too much to quietly sit and watch. This was the first time their little family had been faced with such an unsettling crisis, and all they could do was to pray and hope that Alyssa w
as strong enough to pull through this.
Megan, now a weary mother of forty-three years, looked at Alyssa’s phone in her hands. I guess I should call some of Alyssa’s friends and let them know she’s here, she thought. She began scrolling through the list of contacts, trying to figure out whom to call. Suddenly she spotted something familiar. Thomas Winchester. Megan paused for a moment in wonder. What were the odds that both she and her daughter knew someone by the same name? Suddenly, memories of her breakup with Thomas surfaced, making her anxious.
With her heart beating quickly, Megan decided she'd check her daughter's text messages, hoping to find a clue. She found more than she could have hoped for. There, glaring back at her, was a lengthy conversation between Alyssa and Thomas Winchester. She began reading, and the more she read, the more her heart sank. The messages were graphic and disturbing. Could her daughter have really been involved in these kinds of behaviors? Drugs and ravenous self-deprecating sex acts? There had to be a mistake. She felt the wind knocked out of her, and tears streamed down her cheeks.
Annabelle's Angst: NEW ADULT CONTEMPORARY SUSPENSE ROMANCE Page 10