The man grins. “My friends call me Good Boy.”
I chuckle at the bizarre nickname. What is it with the people I attract to The Red? I raise my shot glass, gesturing him to do the same with his tumbler. “Well then, be a good boy and cheers me.”
This gent is as dumpy as they come, the kind that may have taken copious amounts of hallucinogens at some Woodstock or other in the past. He’s definitely not my type. There’s something about him I still can’t quite shake, but then again, I don’t have to. Because tonight, he has one purpose, and one alone.
“If I catch the scent of another man on your skin, I’ll kill him. Mark my words. You belong to me. Always.”
Sir may not love me, but he certainly hates it when I defy him … and if he ever found out about what I have planned with this innocent fool this evening … he’ll want to tear him apart. The old man could be the perfect bait, because who says Sir isn’t spying on me now as he’s always done? And if he were to burst in on this gent and I getting hot in bed with one another, he’d be too distracted beating Good Boy to a pulp to notice the knife I’ll be hiding underneath my pillow.
Even if he’s not spying on me and is AWOL for good … nothing gets me harder these days than disobeying Sir’s orders it seems.
The two of us clink our glasses and I silently make a toast to enjoying the first move in what could possibly be a long road to getting over Sir. But it’s one I’ll relish every step of the journey.
Because, as they say, the best way to get over someone … is to get even.
THE END
Aberrant Desires
Emery LeeAnn
Prologue
Chaos
I am Chaos,
and he is my King,
He twists the knife
simply to hear my screams.
* * *
His darkness is raw
and brutal at best,
My love for him is unwavering,
Like the beating muscle in my chest.
* * *
My death is inevitable,
it is part of the grand scheme,
Feeding my soul to his depravity,
it’s a never-ending orgasmic dream.
* * *
'More' I cry
as he withdraws his touch,
He chuckles and walks away leaving me to bleed out,
alone still needing so much.
'You are not worthy'.
* * *
He whispers across the room,
The slamming of the door solidifies my knowledge,
I will forever be locked in this torturous doom.
* * *
Love him I still do,
and hate him in equal parts,
As the sounds of my screaming echoes the walls
in this dungeon where he broke my heart.
* * *
This fucking dream was killing me. I've had it again and again, no end in sight. Langley was my king. I would die if he ever left me, breaking not only my heart, but my will to go on. What would be the point to live without him?
Chapter One
I remember when we first met. We were both at the same party, just by happenstance really. He was dressed in his usual threads, tight fitting dress pants, button up shirt, tie, and vest. His polished shoes accentuated the rest of his attire, turning everyone’s head as he walked, making a point to notice no one. He had an air of dominance from the moment he strutted in. Very few of the men or women could look him directly in the eye.
I glanced at him when he came in, not really looking for anyone, but searching for the perfect one. It was my brother’s shindig, the only reason I was there. He said it would be good hunting grounds. I had my ripped jeans, tight white tee, black leather jacket, and shit kickers on. In contrast, we were complete opposites. I didn’t pay attention to him, because I was looking for someone who wasn’t as social, someone who wasn’t really being seen at the party, an invisible prey.
My brother Edgar, and I learned how to hunt from our father. He used our mother as our first target. He kept her chained all the time, no freedom, no will of her own. When he deemed us ready to start the hunt, he let her out of her shackles and told her to run. He promised her freedom if she could escape us. She didn’t come even close. We caught her pretty quickly, strung her up, then used her as target practice. Edgar and I still argue over who had the kill shot. We are technically twins, though I was born a day later. She gave birth to Edgar, and thought she was finished.
My father thought she was being dramatic when she said she was in miserable pain. He threatened to beat her when she swore something else was still inside of her. The next morning, I was born. My father said I caused a lot of Chaos, so he named me that. I was born somewhat bluish in color, but once I came out into the world, I started to thrive which was good, because he wouldn’t allow her to go to a hospital.
At one point I think she may have loved us, but eventually she started to resent us because we were free to run around while she was locked up like an animal. Marseilla would try to talk to us when father was gone, however we had no respect for the woman who bore us.
She had enough length on her chain to use the restroom, clean the kitchen, cook us meals. Really what she had to complain about I was never sure. We didn’t torture her, well until the end. After she was gone, my father hunted in other territories, then would bring the frightened prey back to our land, all with the same promise, if they could outrun us, get off of our land, he would set them free.
We were never really sure if he would hold up to his end of the bargain, no one ever made it out. Not even close. Our property was heavily wooded, and we knew it like the back of our hand. After mother, father started to get more complacent. I think he was lonely, although I’m not sure. He was never much of a talker unless he was giving us a lesson.
Edgar’s party had been the first social gathering I had been to since cancer had taken dad away from us. Descending from the darkness was hard for me. He was our everything. Edgar was able to move forward. At that point, I hadn’t found that in myself yet. He convinced me to come to his gala, said it would help me come out of this depression I had fallen into. Hunting would shake me out of the funk, at least, that was the theory.
I stood off to the side, glancing at the wallflowers. I wanted someone who no one would notice was there but, more importantly, no one would notice was leaving. I found the perfect mark. I could feel my adrenaline pumping. It was like my blood had woken up and was finally coursing through my body again.
The man had khaki pants on with a white polo. He was medium build, not really athletic. I saw him as he stood there gazing around the room, realizing this wasn’t his scene, and then the final look of deflation set in as he glanced at his watch, and must’ve decided it was time to go.
Waiting for just a couple minutes before exiting, I slipped out the same door he had. He was walking dejectedly down the sidewalk, past the parked cars that lined the front of the building Edgar’s condo was in. Increasing my speed, I walked up right behind him, grabbed his neck with my hand, and whispered to keep walking in his ear. His sharp intake of breath let me know he was scared.
“Who are you?” His voice, shaky at best.
“I’m your excitement for the night. Don’t say another word. Understand?” I pushed him harder to let him know I meant it. In fairness, he didn’t know if I had a weapon of any kind. He only knew I had hold of his neck and seemed to be stronger than him. However, he chose to not fight it. A part of me was hoping for a struggle.
I wasn’t really sure what I needed more that night: to cure my demons, the hunt or the kill. Bringing the gun out of the inside of my jacket, I let go of his neck. “Turn around.”
He turned slowly, only from the streetlamps could I see the color had drained from his face, and the fear had set in his eyes. I waved him towards an alley. He backed into it slowly, looking around, hoping someone would protect him.
“It’s just you and me tonight.
” I smiled at him. “You waited for someone to notice you the whole night at the party, yet you never noticed me watching you.”
I let that sink into him. He started to cry. “Please let me go. I will do anything.”
“Yes, I suppose you would.” I chuckled. It was what everyone said. “So this is your chance to get away.” I pointed down the alley with my gun. “I am parked at the very end of this alley. If you can outrun me, you win. I will let you go. However, if I catch you, before we make it to the end of the road, well then, I guess you lose.”
He looked at me like I’d lost my mind. I wasn’t sure he understood at first. It didn’t seem so hard to me. Really, I almost rooted for them to win, since no one ever had, it would be a nice change of pace. His face had a forlorn look on it. He simply nodded, then took off towards the end of the road.
Brilliant! I thought. Here we go. I waited a couple of seconds, took a few deep breaths, then took off after him. It was like taking candy from a baby when I found him doubled over gasping. Most people, unless they were active runners, were not ready for an all-out sprint, even if their life depended on it. “P-please don’t hurt me.” He begged.
“Now, now. Those aren’t the rules. You must always follow the rules. You lost fair and square.” I shrugged, pulling out my large serrated knife I had in its holder on my belt. Stabbing him in the fleshy part of his stomach, his eyes opened wide with shock, as I repeatedly stabbed him again and again, making a wide gaping wound with him oddly never uttering a sound.
As I was reaching inside his stomach to celebrate the kill by pulling his warm intestines out, I heard clapping accompanied by a, “Bravo. Truly. That was a work of art.”
I was crouched down in front of the body, knife in one bloody hand, gun in the other, when I turned around and pointed them both at my voyeur. It was the gorgeous guy from Edgar’s party. We stood there looking at each other for a couple of minutes until I dropped my eyes from the weight of his stare.
“Can I help you?” I asked, cautious but curious about this enigma standing in front of me.
“Well you could drop to your knees and suck my cock but I’m assuming we aren’t there yet.” He laughed.
I raised my eyebrows. I had blood dripping from my hands, not to mention a dead body I needed to dispose of. Yes, I wouldn’t deny this man made me hard as damn brick, but I had shit to do.
“Let me introduce myself first. My name is Langley,” he continued, “and I intend to fuck you. What’ll happen next, well, we can discuss that later.” He smirked.
That fucking smirk. It was my doom. I looked the devil in his eyes without even knowing. “What makes you think I want to fuck you? How do you know I won’t gut you too?” I asked him.
“Well, one, because your dick is straining against those tight ass jeans so hard, it is about to pop the zipper, and two, if you wanted to try and gut me, key word being try, then you already would’ve.” He shrugged. “What is your name?”
He wasn’t wrong. My cock had been so hard it was throbbing in time with my heart beat. “Chaos.”
“Unzip your pants Chaos, pull them down, and get on your knees over the corpse.” He commanded.
For a reason even I couldn’t understand, I did exactly what he said. I knew how dangerous it was to stay here with this body, but I couldn’t stop thinking about him inside of me.
“Good boy.” He said from behind me. I heard his zipper come down, then felt his weight as he came down over me. He fisted my hardness, stroking it at a steady rhythm. I was lost in bliss when I came all over his hand and the dead guy. “Fucking hell.” I growled as the crescendo crashed down from my high.
“Indeed.” He said close to my ear. “I don’t have lube so I will use your come.” I felt his sticky fingers part my crack, slipping one sloppy finger inside. I was tight, so he needed to stretch. He added another finger, I tried to spread my legs open wider to help. “Please.” I begged. I just wanted to feel him.
“Just try to relax.” He ordered. I felt the absence of his fingers when he pulled them out. The head of his cock making its way into my entrance caused me to growl. I needed him with a fierceness I never knew I had. He went slow, pushing in inch by inch until my body became accustomed. Moaning openly now, I met each of his thrusts with pure wantonness.
My once flaccid cock which was squishing inside the gaping hole of the dead man, was now becoming erect again. As he pounded deeper into me, he was whispering in my ear what a dirty boy I was, a good fuck slut for him, turning me on more and more. I pushed back into every thrust meeting him, him grunting, me moaning like a street whore, knowing I was going to come again, inside the dead man’s stomach.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I chanted.
He growled out his last hard thrust as he filled my ass. I could feel the come leaking out when he pulled out. “Stand up, we’ve made quite a mess.” He laughed, holding a hand out to pull me up.
The front of me was covered now in the corpse’s blood mixed with my semen. It truly was a mess, but the only thing I could think about was this man in front of me.
“Let’s get this taken care of and get cleaned up. Shall we?”
He helped me dispose of the body, said it was the first time he had ever seen a dead body. He seemed to be really impressed with it, even more impressed with how I had killed him. Taking the body to my family’s cabin in the woods, we went to shed, put it on the chopping table, and got the saw. Cutting him up in several pieces made it easier for the wildlife to eat. Our family didn’t believe in wasting meat.
Langley took me to his place after, then we showered, talking half the night. He wanted to know how I learned to kill. I told him all about my father, and our hunting lessons. He was enthralled. He told me about his family. I felt safe with him, like I did when my father was alive. That was probably the best night of my life.
Chapter Two
1 Year Later
I never really knew what a Dominant/Submissive relationship was. Really never thought about having a relationship with a man or woman. I never had normal urges. If I actually felt the need, I would either rub one out, or use the body of whoever I had just killed before I disposed of them.
Never had I thought I would meet anyone like Langley. He truly was a unique individual. He loved watching me kill, even would occasionally taste the meat, but made sure I knew I needed to be punished for my misdeeds.
At first, I thought it was a silly sex game like spanking or something. I soon learned spanking was the easy way out. Our first year was one of finding each other. I fell helplessly in love with this courageous man who took on the role as my lover, friend, and confidante. He had some rules he wanted me to follow, but for me, it was all worth it.
He taught me the fine art of oral sex. How to give it, and how good it was to receive it. He showed me various positions we could have sex in. I guess I was more sheltered than I had thought.
When he was displeased, if I did something wrong or did something without his permission, I received a punishment. It made sense to me, because besides the sex, he kind of took my dad’s place.
The punishments were meant to bring pain, but mostly they were meant to teach a lesson. I didn’t mind them, not that they didn’t hurt like a bitch; they usually left blood all over me, leaving me with nasty scars. The first time it really started to bother me was when he did it in front of a group of people at his house.
He had invited friends over from a local club he frequented. All of the submissives were required to wear no clothing for the evening. The owners were all drinking, when one of them teased him, saying his submissive looked like he could kick his ass.
“Chaos come here.” Langley had a point to prove. “Get on your knees.”
I looked at him confused, because he had ordered me not to come into the room with the other Doms but did it so as not to embarrass him. “Bend over.” He said coldly. I was confused. Had I done something to upset him?
He took a cat o’ nine tails off the table swingin
g it hard across my bare back, then across my ass. He kept lashing, I lost count at twenty. My back was a bloody mess when he finally contained himself. “Go take a shower before you get that mess all over my carpet.”
“Yes Sir.” I replied tightly.
“Alright, you proved me wrong.” The man said laughing to Langley.
“I assure you; I will always be the Master in this house.” Langley replied.
That should’ve been my wake-up notice. It should’ve opened my eyes. Should’ve, would’ve, could’ve – I didn’t listen to my gut. Things only went downhill from there.
From that point on, Langley started hanging out with a darker crowd. For me to think they are dark, well that says something. He laughed when I brought it up and said, “You slaughter people. How can anyone be worse than you?” Then walked away with a disgusted look on his face. I never mentioned it again.
Chapter Three
3 Years Later
Shivering naked on the floor, I keep wondering why I’m here. Why am I waiting for him to punish me? I do his bidding, kill marks of his choosing which he revels in, then he pays penance by whatever perverse way he can on my flesh.
Why do I stay? Because, goddammit, I love him. I love him more than the need for oxygen in my lungs. And I fucking hate him. How is it possible to love and hate someone in equal measure?
As the door opens, I see he has the whip today. It will add more marks to my already marred flesh.
“Get on your knees, you filthy swine.” He ordered.
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