Day 259 – Stolen – Short Story

“How many times has it been since your father died, that you’ve found yourself here, in my arms?” She says softly, as she runs a hand through his hair.

He presses himself up against her, their naked body’s squish together, sweat, saliva and other bodily juices coat their flesh. “Too many times to count,” he says as they kiss, she bites down into his bottom lip, piercing the fleshs, and he lets out a yelp, as he pulls away, pressing a hand to him mouth.

“Careful for christ sake!” He says, she smiles wickedly.

“Come on Coleman, it’s a bit late for that isn’t it, we pasted the pleasure and pain shit ages ago,” she says.

“Pleasure and pain shit? What the fuck are you going on about? This has all been about thrusting our naked bodies together, smashing out an orgasam, then going back to our lives, not taking chunks out of eac….” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as she drives a hard left hook into his face, knocking him to the floor, she dives upon him and drives another and then a right, and then, grabs him by the cock and squeezes it.

“Don’t be shy all of a sudden, you know how I like it,” she says, as she licks his face, he drives his head into her nose, smashing it across her face, blood pours instantly from it, as she reels back in pain, he shoves her off him and drives a boot into her stomach, and let’s out several long, desperate breaths as he stands over her motionless form.

“Fucking bitch, what the fucking hell is wrong with you?” He says as he grabs her by the hair and pulls her to her feet, they lock eyes for a few moments, his, filled with rage and confusion, while hers, are filled with a calmness, and in that moment, he realises, all too late, that sometimes, when you ask for something so wrong, it will end up bring that which devours you, and as she slips out of his wreaking grip, she drives a open hand into his throat, he gasps for air, as a knee smashes into his groin and he falls helplessly towards the floor, into unconsciousness.

He doesn’t know how long he was out when he finally comes to, but the bindings that hold him down, onto the bed feel as if they are cutting into his flesh, his eyes search the room frantically, only, to see her standing, waiting.

“Welcome back,” she says with a smile.

The End

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