“Want to come?”
“Mmm. Yes?”
“That was a yes?” I stuck my fingers in her again, pretended to fuck her ass and held her there in limbo, helpless, impaled and locked between the bar of my arm, my fingers in her cunt, and my very hard dick.
“Oh.” A sharp intake of air. “Yes. Yes, yes. Please, yes.”
“Even though I belted you so hard the strikes have left these beautiful…” I leaned away and admired the marks on her back. “Bruises and red stripes. These welts…”
I bit her shoulder, squeezed her poor abused butt. She yelped but recovered after a spate of panting.
Red nodded, wildly.
“Bad luck.”
I pushed away, backed off and left her teetering for a few seconds, until she recovered her footing.
Red leaned into the tree and said soft words I could not understand.
“What?”
“Please?”
“Not today. Not. Today.”
“Isak?”
“No. Hell, no.”
“Fuck.”
What matters is what you create in this life. Got it.
I was creating something wonderful. Then, I hesitated.
I wanted to whip her again, to make her cry and whine for dick, then I would fuck her stupid and watch the splatters of come run down her welted skin.
Something… stopped me.
I was messed up as to why I was doing what I had done to her, wasn’t I? I frowned at myself.
The medication had derailed me. Creating a fucked-up Red could not have been my main aim today? I mean, I had already done that, in spades, so many, many times.
I let her stay there while I admired this disheveled, panting female.
A piece of art, even so, in my opinion. Worthy of being hung in an art gallery. One day I must do that.
Red, swinging nude, tied up, and red from my welts, in an art gallery.
Goals.
I untied her and let her down gently, laid her on her back on the pile of her clothes. I spread her wide and shoved myself into her, listening to the music in that drawn-out muffled groan as I slid in and stayed there, balls squashed to cunt. I fucked her face to face, driving in hard, knowing I was going soft on her.
Too gentle. This was almost shameful, except that I liked this. The flutter of her eyelashes. The huff of her breath as she took me. The jiggle of all her soft bits as I rammed in.
How her lips felt and gave beneath mine.
The feel of her body accepting my presence inside her.
Sex made us one thing, one creature, one panting sliding, grunting animal.
The whole time I fucked her, I was aware of the pain I caused with every thrust as her back and ass were driven, back and forth, across the ground and the cloth.
Before I came, I held her throat and pinned her wrists in the vice of my grip. I stared into her half-closed eyes, with her spine curving hard and her heels scrabbling for a hold on the earth. She wanted release; she wasn’t getting it.
Her last bit of penance.
“No,” I grunted, before I speared into her one last time and crested that explosive wave of ecstasy.
Her clenched internal muscles seemed to suck more come from me than was possible, but I pulled out and jetted the last spurts onto her belly, watched it pool and run off her as she frowned up at me, whining and searching within herself for that elusive orgasm.
“No.” I smiled then thrust into her again. She wasn’t going anywhere until I was fully done with her.
CHAPTER 14
RED
“Where are we going?” I asked this as casually as was possible, considering the hurts he had inflicted earlier, in tandem with memories of the unreached joy. Blue balls? I had a blue pussy, and even now I ached.
While I gripped the wheel, I wriggled and shifted my sore ass on the seat.
One cannot be without the other. Not with him.
There were bruises, he had told me.
Not surprised.
After the punishment, he had left me churning with unrequited need, but he’d also taken the time to help cleanse me of all the icky mess. I might still need a shower, but he’d seemed to care for my wellbeing.
He was more unpredictable than ever.
His aim of learning how to be human felt flimsier by the hour. The longer I was unmuted, in the real world, the more my thoughts repeated a chant – you need to get away from him.
“Why?” He stretched his arm between the seats and caressed the dog.
Banjo had nudged his way forward. That big, boofy head seemed characteristic of these Aussie cattle dogs – maybe they head-butted the cows that trotted the wrong way.
“I need a plan.” Daring of me to say so, I guess. Though his attitude was still as scary as a Chucky doll on Valium, I was getting used to the new, medicated Isak.
He could be talked to… with, so long as I didn’t accuse him of being a child molester.
The murder and torture of adults was apparently fine and dandy. Go figure.
“A plan.” His parroting of the word gave me nothing. “Why?”
“This…” I gestured through the windshield at the road. “Is aimless and likely to find trouble. Truthfully, I just feel we are going about this the wrong way.” I’d mildly stressed the we to remind him I was supposed to be his helper and not his piñata toy. “We’re leaves on the wind, as Wash said in Firefly. People need roots. If I am to show you anything, we should find a place to stop so you can learn to ummm
