Текст книги "Wrenched"

Автор книги: Emma James

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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 11 страниц)

I think his neck is no longer properly attached to his spine, and I can smell the strong scent of alcohol coming off him. I place his head back down the way I found it, careful not to have caught any loose hairs between my fingers.

I flop back down on the bottom step, placing my bound wrists on my knees. This is a lot to take in.

Master William.

Is.

Dead.

I’ve waited for this day for an entire lifetime. I honestly didn’t think it would arrive during my lifetime, and here it is.

I. Am. Free.

But am I?

I feel so disconnected from the scene in front of me.

My mind doesn’t feel free. Maybe it’s the drugs still leaving my system, but I don’t feel excited. I don’t know how to explain how I feel, other than I’ve spent my life without any freedom, any happiness, a social life, a caring, nurturing family, or any friends. I’ve lived from day to day without an opinion. My mind has witnessed cold-blooded murder and lived with the constant threat of violence. I’ve had things done to me without my consent. Those things I won’t label. My life has been constantly monitored.

My mind has been abused.

I should be excited about his death. I should be smiling, laughing hysterically over how I won.

I fucking won!

I survived Master William.

But my happiness had flat-lined years ago.

I don’t know how to be happy. My life has never been happy. I can’t switch happy on. I don’t know where my life goes from here.

I could still have heartache waiting for me around the corner. What happens if something worse than Master William is out there lurking in the shadows?

I shake my head to stop these negative thoughts.

I’m free.

I’m fucking free.

I get this sudden urgent crushing feeling to be out of these binds immediately. It’s all-consuming and intense, and I react by starting to pull at my wrists...hard. It isn’t doing anything other than hurting me more, and yet this feeling won’t let go of me, which makes no sense. I start yanking and twisting my arms about, trying to get out of these binds like a crazy person.

All I’m doing is crying out in pain, but I can’t seem to purge myself of this feeling. I yank my feet up and push with my bare toes, trying to will the rope to push over my wrists and release me, while my small grunts fill the ever-present silence.

I feel too anxious to be rational. I’m determined to damage my wrists even more, and that’s when out of the corner of my crazed eyes I see the knife laying on the floor.

He always cuts my dress off, but he never got around to doing it this time.

The realization dawns on me and I stop wrestling with myself, doing some weird worm wriggle over to where the knife lays, and I pick it up clumsily in my fingers and collapse back on my haunches.

I’m normally a very contained person, showing no outward signs of distress because it’s all hidden on the inside.

I’m robotic. I’m on remote control because I have to be.

Now, I don’t. Now I can shout and scream and swear at the fucking bastard, who can no longer touch me. He can’t lay a finger on me. There’s this wildness inside me wanting to escape, a black fog of rage taking over me.

I stand up, take a step closer to him, and stomp down hard using my bare foot on his head. I put as much strength as I can into it. I stomp with my heel until I’m breathing heavily with rage and a guttural wounded animalistic noise is leeching out of me. I want to fuck him up. I want to hear the crunch of his skull as I smash the bones under my feet.

I know he can’t fight back, but wasn’t that what he did to me? He was a bastard coward. I want to smash his evil brain until his eyes pop out of their sockets. I want to...

A sharp sting forces me to look down, and that’s when I realize my fingers have clenched around the knife blade and not the handle. Blood is oozing out like a flowing creek, and I was making that horrible noise. The pain brings me to my senses and I quickly let go of the knife. I realize I have been lost in my own dark, manic, fictional thoughts, and I hadn’t touched Master William at all.

My mind was playing tricks on me.

I move my body so I can use my feet to sandwich the handle between them, making sure the blade’s facing up, and I start rubbing the rope binding my wrists over it vigorously. I wince at the pain in my limbs, but I keep going, watching as each piece frays away until my hands spring free. I’m dripping blood everywhere, but who’s here to punish me?

There’s a bloody, raw mess waiting for me underneath my bindings, but my mind has switched off. I’m an outsider looking in. It’s always easier to put things into boxes as quickly as possible and seal them up.

The pain will come back in full force, eventually. It always does, but for now, I’m thankful to become the robot girl.

I cut strips off the bottom of my dress with the knife and do my best to tie them around each wrist, using my teeth to secure the knots. The cuts on my hands need to stop bleeding; they are making a mess. I hack off some more strips and bind my fingers and palms roughly. It’s enough to hold the wounds together until...

Until...I don’t know.

I walk over to the far wall and slide down it until I’m sitting with my knees bent. I look around me and try to piece together what happened. Master William must have tripped and fallen in a drunken state; it’s the only explanation.

I look over at the window. The sun has almost closed up shop for the day. I so could do with a friend right now, somebody to share this burden with. I was happy he was dead, but I did not know how to rejoice.

Because I am so alone.

It can’t be this simple, his death.

It can’t be this simple, my freedom.

Do I bury him out back?

Do I leave him here and just walk away?

Nobody will come visiting the house to check up on Master William. Nobody ever visited. He can just rot away and I’ll be long gone. I look up to where I know a camera is hidden, recording my every move. My innocence will be sitting on that tape. I didn’t kill him. I couldn’t have. I could just disappear.

But how would I live?

There are too many questions I can’t answer, but I can’t stay in this house with a dead body any longer—I know that for sure—so I haul my ass up and make myself climb the stairs to my room.

I strip out of the dress, which symbolizes so much I want to forget, and hurriedly change into my jeans, a simple sweater, and put on my black Converse.

I make my way around to my bathroom and up-end the little bin, dumping the contents onto the floor, and take the plastic bag and quickly walk back around to my bedroom. I pick up my copy of Wind In The Willows off my bedside table, placing it carefully inside the plastic bag. I look over at my bed and see Jenny, my ragdoll, sitting there. I can’t abandon her because she’s my only friend. I remove my pillowcase and put her inside it. I look around my room for anything else that means something to me, but there isn’t anything that’s worth more to me than these two things.

Now I need to find some money, and the only place it could possibly be found is Master William’s wing of the house. I have to hope he has left his main door unlocked.

If it’s locked, the key will no doubt be on his body. My stomach lurches at the thought of feeling around in his pockets for it. I grab the pillowcase and the plastic bag, then take a chance and head around to his wing.

It’s open. Of course it is. He would have felt secure leaving it open, knowing I was bound to the banister. I scurry through to the library. It’s been a few years since I have been in here; things have changed. It takes me a few moments to find the clearly labeled hard drive and I place it inside the plastic bag, as well.

I run around to his bedroom and look for any money. There are a few bills and some change sitting on his bedside table. I grab them and stuff them inside the plastic bag, throwing it into the pillowcase.

I’m not dressed warm enough for the night, so I reconsider, grab a jacket out of his closet, and put it on. It envelopes my body and is far too baggy on me, but it will do. There’s a big pocket on the inside, so I stuff the pillowcase holding my few things inside it and zip up the jacket.

I take a moment to look around and can’t think what else would be important enough to take with me. I command my feet to walk back down the stairs and out the back door.

I have never been able to use the front door, and I didn’t want to now. My mind was geared to what I was allowed to do, and that was what was going to get me out of this house. Rules are important at this moment, or else I fear I would stay here purely because I’m petrified of the outside world and the unknown.

I start walking down the back of the property, away from the big majestic oak tree with its twisted and gnarled old branches, which curl toward the house as if in worship. It’s a beautiful tree in its own way, but I always thought it also possessed the power to change into something creepy at night, with the moonlight silhouetting its dark, twisted branches.

I keep on walking, never looking back, until I eventually come to a fence line, climb over it and onto a dirt road.

And then I keep right on walking without a clue of what the night will hold for me. I don’t even want to think beyond this point in time for what my future holds because that is too frightening. Fear could so easily devour my courage.

I try to calm my wayward thoughts by hoping there are people right now in this moment who are enjoying themselves and are safe and cared for because I have to believe it exists.

 

I had felt it in my bones that somethin’ was goin’ to be comin’. I didn’t know when, but dem bones of mine never lied to me. They always gave me a warnin’, a feelin’ in dem that left me to work the rest out for myself. I hadn’t had such a strong feelin’ seepin’ into them in a long time.

There was nothin’ much to be done but sit here in front of my comforting fire in my cozy livin’ room with my crochet until I be called upon.

 

Cyn, the long haired, raven beauty with the mile-long legs and lips that were made for sucking my cock, greets us at the door in a little black silk robe, which doesn’t quite cover her bare ass as we follow her inside.

I met her at a bar a couple years back. I was intrigued to know more about her, and she was a hell-of-a-good-fuck. She went and fell for the wrong guy, and her dreams got swept away. A daughter was born out of that short-lived relationship.

Short-lived being the operative words.

Every kid should have the chance at having a parent who would be there for them. We have an agreement; I pay her enough to get her through the month for exclusive sex when I require it¸ and the rest of the time, she’s there for her little girl.

This is purely a business arrangement. I keep her fed and safe from the dangers of other men, but I do have a fondness for her. I want her to be a mom to her daughter foremost, and then she’s available to me when I want to fuck hard and rough, so this arrangement works for both of us.

Until she tells me otherwise, or I end our agreement, she’s mine. Cyn knows she only has to tell me and I’ll walk away.

Simple as that.

I have no deep connections.

Drill and I are now both naked as the day we were born, our dicks hard and hungry, ready to grunt and sweat out the killings.

I call Cyn over, yanking the sash on her robe undone as she turns her back to me, letting it glide over her naked body and fall into a puddle at her feet, exposing her round ass and the glint of the fake jewel I can see nestled there. My dick went crazy at the sight of it. Cyn really makes it worth keeping her around.

“Fuck, Cyn,” Drill growls out as he moves straight to the round table, which has everything we will need.

There’s always a price to my soul for taking another’s life. I know that, and one day I’ll pay for it because karma will be coming for me, but for now, I’m gonna spend a few hours in fucking Heaven.

I look down at Cyn. She’s eager to get this fuck party started, and I’m happy to oblige. She’s grabbed a hold of the back of the couch on either side of my hips for support, and I’m already on board, working off my adrenaline by pumping into her luscious mouth like a steam train. You can almost hear my dick singing out loud, ‘Choo-choo!’ the way she’s sucking me off.

Drill’s suited up, because he isn’t wasting any time, and he comes prowling over like a lion, fierce and ready to be the king of her jungle.

She senses he’s behind her and spreads her long gazelle-like legs wide, baring herself and preparing for him to penetrate her, but she hasn’t missed a beat sucking me off.

Drill’s stroking his dark red beard, eyeing up the jewel that’s tempting him already. It’s flashing at him like a neon calling card. He knows she would have gotten herself drenched the minute she’d inserted it, so he grabs hold of her hips and starts thrusting inside her saturated pussy while Cyn voices her pleasure deep in her throat. The vibration only adds to my dick’s excitement.

We’re all lost in our own thoughts and sexual sensations with Cyn, getting the bonus pleasure of that jewel in her ass being pounded every time Drill thrusts inside her, when he suddenly pulls out, heads back over to the table, and lubes up. He can’t wait and she knows it too.

He struts back over and rubs his thumb slowly over his bottom lip as he eyes up that sex toy. He knows he’s keeping Cyn waiting impatiently because she’s rolling her hips, trying to find him. He grunts at her little aggravated display then gives her a hard spank on her ass for her impatience as she moans for more, so he slaps her again, hard, leaving a matching red handprint.

He can’t wait any longer, giving the jewel a little tug and drops it to the floor while receiving an expectant deep fuck-me noise of desire from Cyn. Her ass is wiggling about in need, so he massages her wet pussy from behind, thumbing her juices over her rim as her teeth graze along my erection, making me hiss in a breath. Then he pushes two lubed up fingers, one at a time, inside her, stretching her for him.

She’s pushing back hard on his fingers in pulses while still bobbing her head on my cock. She’s ready for him. A quick lick of his lips and Drill enters her on a heavy sigh as he lets his head drop back. She can’t help gasping out loud through a mouthful of my cock because Drill’s a big boy. She stops sucking long enough to take him all the way in, then he starts thrusting and grunting like a caveman.

He’s pounding her so hard I think she’s gonna swallow my dick.

Fuck, these two are hot together. I’m feeling like a third wheel tonight.

My eyes are about to go all hallelujah on me and roll back into my head, because Cyn knows how to work a cock over like she was born to do it. I white knuckle the back of the couch as my own arousal floods through my veins.

My eyes can’t stay levelled out anymore, and they go all vertical on me as I let my head drop backwards and my mouth drops open, letting out a deep growl of warning. “Drill, slow it down. I need my cock.” Without having to look, I know Drill’s grass green eyes will be trained on me, full of expectations. His mind will be visualizing it’s me that he’s pumping into like a demon, and I just shake my head from side to side.

Drill wants to fuck me, and he wants me to know it too. He has his own set of neon signs flashing in each eyeball, inviting me into the mother of all threesomes. His eyes don’t lie, but I’m not going there.

I’ll sandwich a female between us, but that’s the closest we are gonna get to our dicks touching. A bit of skin and our balls slapping and sliding across each other from the positions we get Cyn in, but no closer. He knows not to cross that line with me.

I get back to concentrating on where I am, letting the thrill of the kill leave my body as my release shoots into her mouth, hitting way down the back of her throat while she tries to keep up, gulping it down expertly as my eyes roll back into my head and my body reacts with a little shaky leg action.

Christ, she’s good at that.

I slowly slide out of her mouth so she doesn’t choke while her tongue glides all over my dick in appreciation, lapping it all up. Only God knows how she gets the whole thing in there so deep, but she does.

I take a couple steps to the side and I let her finish off with Drill. Leaning against the couch, I watch these two go at it with a whole lot of appreciation for voyeurism. My long, thick penis must think so too, since it decides to stand right back up, commanding attention, still slick with Cyn’s saliva.

Drill’s hammering her and she takes every pound with a hum while her full and firm breasts jiggle about excitedly. She straightens up a little so he can touch her, spreading her long, lithe legs in those fuck me red heels she wears, which stretch her legs even longer, inviting more from his touch as she pushes her tight ass further into him. He takes the hint, wrapping an arm around her, sliding a finger over her sensitive bud, back and forth until she is writhing against him. Then he slides it inside her. Her head falls back against his shoulder as he keeps pounding her, and she winds a hand around the back of his neck, bringing him closer by his army issue cut hair so he can suck on her ear. She loves her earlobe being sucked on and gasps at the little bites he gives her, then whimpers when he takes it inside his mouth as his beard sandpapers her shoulder.

I could go again watching these two, so I palm my rock-hard erection and start moving my hand up and down its length, catching Drill’s eyes reverting back to me, with that neon sign ring-a-ding-dinging. I meet his intense gaze. I didn’t say I don’t like the look in his eyes. I like the appreciation he has for me and my body. We’re both big, strong, muscled men sporting a lot of tattoos. We work hard at it.

“Fuck, Edge,” he grunts out. He’s upped his game, his hands and fingers sliding all over Cyn’s body while he watches me. I’m particularly horny tonight; it’s been a while since I’ve shared a female and gotten to watch a couple go at it hard.

Drill’s as tough as he is good-looking. The fucker knows it too. That’s why I agreed to bring him along to watch my back tonight. They see the pretty eyes and don’t think he’s as dangerous as me, but he’ll have you handcuffed and incapacitated before you know what’s hit you.

Cyn has eyes for Drill. I saw the way she looked at him when he followed me through the door. The thing is he’s too busy on the business end of her ass to notice. His sexual appetite is more diverse than mine. He didn’t get the road name Drill for shits and giggles. He knows how to work a woman over, as well as a man.

I’ve brought him along as my guest a couple times now, and he can’t see what’s in front of him. He’s an all-out intelligent guy, whose IQ is off the charts, but he’s blind to Cyn’s desire for him.

The faster I pump my hand, the more excited Drill’s eyes get. He’s sweating from thrusting and Cyn is delirious with ecstasy. “Drill...God....” Her scent is invading both our senses. She likes to be ridden rough until she can hardly walk, and she smells so fucking good.

I walk up to Cyn and grab her jaw roughly with my hand, pulling her mouth to mine, biting down on her tongue, tasting myself as I draw blood. I release her tongue while palming her breasts, spitting on one and rubbing my thumb over the hardened nipple, while dipping my head to bite down on it, which leaves her arching into me as I slowly let it pop out of my mouth.

I’m still fisting my dick, and I’m close as I thrust two fingers inside her wet pussy, pulsing them in and out, her body consumed by the avalanche of sensations Drill and I are assaulting her body with.

I move away again, eliciting a small whimper of disapproval from Cyn, so I can watch these two some more. The show is half the turn-on for me.

When you share, you can only move so much. When one of us gets off first, the other then gets the green light to move with more freedom. I make sure Drill gets off second. It’s a quiet agreement we have.

“Fuck, Cyn, you need to come. I’m about to blow,” he growls into her neck. If Drill pounds her any harder, she’s gonna break. Skin’s slapping between them, tits are bouncing, and she’s making all the right noises you’d expect from a female you’re nailing hard, while my hand’s just about strangling my cock.

Fuck, these two are such a turn-on to watch.

I grit my teeth and work myself faster, then slide back over in front of Cyn when I know I’m close to lift off. I spread my legs and she lets go of Drill to grip my shoulders while I shoot over her stomach and breasts on a loud shout, while Drill swipes a hand over her stomach, rubbing my cum all over her. Then he slides two fingers dripping with me into her mouth so she can suck on them before she cries out at the same time as he explodes on a roar.

Christ, I needed that. I think we all did.

And the night is still young.