They Call Me Teddy: (Enemies to Lovers Horror Romance)

by Ella Burns

✽✽✽

  I look down at him sleeping after our night of fun, a smile on my face as I take in my hard work. His body is covered in tiny scabs and cuts, and even a stick figure burnt into the flesh on his shoulder. I look at his lips, cracked and bleeding, his naked body filthy.

  It’s been two weeks since he’s been off the chain, two weeks of pain and fun.

  “Good morning, Pet!” I exclaim, ready to start again. He immediately scrambles up from his place on the ground and sits at attention. I frown, cocking my head to the side as I make my way over to him. His eyes watch mine, the usual animosity gone.

  “Good morning, Teddy,” he says, and my eyes widen a fraction. He’s never once willingly called me Teddy before. I watch him, not sure what to do with this turn. He’s listened well enough, but there’s always been that defiance underneath. Until now. After a few minutes, I grab a blade off my side table and hand it to him.

  “Cut yourself.”

  Without hesitation, he takes the knife and looks up to me. “Where?”

  ✽✽✽

  At first, I was ecstatic until I realized how fucking boring it was. Jane loves it, of course. Having her own little fucking slave. For the last six months or so, she’s been taking him with her everywhere like a fucking puppy. I know who she really envisions Branson as, though. Like controlling him and turning him into a puppet will make up for what happened to her.

  Jane only gets more erratic by the day and I find myself spending more time on my own, away from her and the fucked-up thing she turned Branson into.

  After learning so many techniques, I began to recognize Jane’s manipulation better. I always figured her for a psychopathic narcissist, but it isn’t until more recently I’ve managed to really see. She thinks she can control me, but she has no idea.

  I make my way upstairs, only to hear some thumps coming from Jane’s room. When I get there, she’s putting things into a bag, a picture of calm as opposed to only minutes ago.

  “What are you doing?” I ask incredulously.

  “I need to leave for a few days, a week at most.”

  Frowning, I step into the room.

  “What are you talking about? Where are you going?”

  She shakes her head. “Not important, we’ll talk about it when I get home.”

  “Seriously, what the fuck is going on?”

  She doesn’t answer, and I take a breath in preparation for this gamble.

  “Is this to do with your mom? With Robert?” I ask.

  She turns quickly, stepping right up to my face, and I hiss instinctively at the sudden approach. Her black eyes stare into mine with warning.

  “I don’t know what you think you know, child,” she says patronizingly, “but stay out of my business. I’ll be back next week.”

  My jaw clenches, and I watch as she finishes packing, my brain rolling over everything.

  ✽✽✽

  “Do you think Jane’s been acting weird?” I ask Branson while I absently pick at the pasta in front of me. The fucker’s gotten good at cooking, so at least there's one bonus to his new dull self. Jane left already, so it’s just us for the week. Even Bud won’t be around, so no victims either, unless I want to get one myself.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” he says, and I groan, tossing my fork down.

  “What do you mean, you don’t know what I mean? Fucking hell! Have a fucking opinion or something.”

  He looks at me for a moment, seeming to consider my words.

  “She talks to herself more,” he says finally, looking at me with hopeful eyes. I sigh and let my mind wander, thinking about how she was years ago when I first arrived compared to now.

  “That she does,” I agree with a sigh. I poke at the food on my plate before dropping my fork and looking up at him.

  “Did she ever tell you anything about her mom? Her dad?”

  Branson shakes his head. “I know they used to own the house and antique business.”

  “Clean this up, I’m heading into town for a bit.”

  He nods and grabs the plate.

  Fuck this place. I need something to play with.

  I head upstairs and look down at my outfit, a lavender apron dress I sewed myself. Though I love my dresses, I know from experience they make it hard to blend in. I’ve seen what the average teenage girl wears, and they dress like women—whores, mostly. I laughed the first time I sat by a high school and watched the girls pass. Clothes that let their bellies and tits hang out, no subtlety or class at all. Men leered at them openly because those women made it easy.

  I, on the other hand, enjoy the sneaky watchers. The ones who watch me in my little girl dresses from the corner of their eyes, and I know that they would hurt me if they could. Not that they ever could.

  The power of turning a man who thinks he’s powerful into a sobbing pile of shit is one that I relish. Jane taught me that. The dresses are just another tool. There are few things better than bringing a man to his knees, except humiliating them while wearing little girls’ clothing.

  But today, I don’t want eyes on me. Not if I am going to bring a new victim back.

  Moving quickly, I make my way to my room and throw on my old victim hunting outfit from the city. The dark jeans and top do an excellent job at keeping me hidden at night, but during the day it just looks like a normal outfit.

  Excitement courses through me as I make my way to the extra car sitting in the barn, an old station wagon. It took me ages, but I managed to get Bud to teach me to drive last year, and thank fuck I did. Making sure I have everything I need, I head to the city for some fun.

  Chapter Three

  Branson

  I’m almost done cleaning up dinner when I hear Teddy leave, heading down the stairs. I look over to see her dressed all in black and my heart beats faster. I will always tell her she is beautiful whatever she wears, and it’s true, but there is something about seeing her clothed in black.

  Over the past months I’ve come to understand her so much more, accept her. I get it now, why she was so bitter at me for so long. Teddy has a darkness to her that can’t be tamed, and I never accepted that. Now when I see her in her element, I revel in the beauty of her passion.

  I think back to the times she wanted to play, to touch me, before and how I told her I’d never want her. I regret those words more than anything now. I want nothing more than her.

  Her eyes meet mine, and she sneers before leaving out the front door. I feel a stab of sadness at the thought of her absence. I wish I could ask her to take me with her. She must know by now I’d never run, never try to leave her, but I know she’d just say no.

  Sighing, I continue my chores.

  As I clean, I let her question about Jane run through my head and try to think harder about how she’s changed since I was young. It’s strange for me to think that I’ve been here, with Jane, for over fifteen years now. I wonder how much better my life would have been if I had just properly submitted earlier. It feels incredible to not have to think, to worry about things. Just listen, follow the rules, and do as I’m told.

  I push the niggling thought of my own weakness aside and let images of Teddy churn through my mind.

  Chapter Four

  Teddy

  By the time I get into the city darkness has fallen, but the streets are alive. It’s still strange to me, the bustle and crazy of the city compared to the quiet calm of the country. I grew up in the silence, the solitude, and will always love it. There’s something about the dark of night away from the city. The darkness permeates in a way it just doesn’t in the never sleeping city.

  Even still, the depravity and darkness of a city alley is something else, almost equally as fun.

  Dressed in black, a small smile stays on my face as I walk through the streets unnoticed by the crowds passing me by. What dull lives they all must live. Though I watch the faces as I pass, they don’t interest me until I see a flash of red ahead. My eyes narrow and I weave ahead, moving until I’m a few feet behin
d the woman in the stunning dress. She doesn’t notice as I slow my step to follow her, cocking my head to the side to take in the details of her outfit.

  Unlike me, she is dressed to stand out. The crimson dress, the killer heels, and dark makeup all designed to attract attention. Men’s eyes follow her as she walks, and for the moment, I revel in my own invisibility.

  In no real rush, I continue to follow her as we make our way to the edge of the downtown district and into the seedier areas. The further we go, the fewer people there are around us and I have to slow down to avoid attracting her attention. I haven’t decided if I’ll kill her yet, but the adrenaline and thrill of stalking courses through me, the blade strapped to my back like a sweet caress.

  After twenty minutes, the woman turns down an alley and I watch from the top as she knocks on a side door and is let in a moment later. My eyes go to the front of the building and I let out a laugh.

  Perfect.

  As I step into the Black Rose’s Club, the heavy bass pumps through me, setting my body alight. The deep red light of the club creates shadows that dance across the room, whiffs of some kind of smoke or fog adds to the effect. It looks full, but the darkness reveals no faces, only shadows and silhouettes.

  “Fifty dollars,” a voice says from beside me and I blink before turning to the man at the counter who is staring at me less than impressed. The music starts up again and my attention is brought back to the stage, which has just darkened.

  “Fifty? What is this place? Isn’t this a strip club?”

  The man snorts. “If you want a strip club, honey, you can head down to Baby Doll’s down the street. If you want our kind of show, it’ll be fifty dollars.”

  My brows knit into a frown and a familiar urge to stab the rude man strikes me, but my curiosity has been piqued. I absently reach into my pocket and pull out a crumpled bill, tossing it on the counter before stepping in. I close my eyes for a moment and let the smells and sound take me over. Sex, sweat, leather, and alcohol all combine in a heady mix. When I open my eyes, there is a grin on my face and I make my way the rest of the way in, finding a solo table just as the stage lights turn on.

  “Please welcome, Cinnamon and Steve!”

  I watch as the woman in red steps out and onto the stage at the same moment a slow beat starts. I feel my face heat up, my lips part as she begins to move. I can’t keep my eyes off her as her body sways to the beat, the fabric of her dress flowing around her.

  “Pretty amazing, isn’t she?” a woman's voice says beside me. I turn and see a blonde in a dress that actually looks really similar to one I own, if not a bit more revealing. She’s holding a tray with a few shots on it, and I assume she works here.

  “She is,” I agree, turning my attention back to the stage where Cinnamon is still moving slowly with the music.

  “Can I get you anything?” the girl asks, and I shake my head.

  “I’m Lola, let me know if you need anything.”

  On the stage, Cinnamon starts to pull the dress down and even my breath catches as the sight of the stunning corset beneath, red and black leather leading down to matching garters, all with small straps attached in seemingly random ways. My heartbeat picks up as the music changes and a man—who proves that men in leather pants is definitely a thing—steps out. Cinnamon turns to him with a grin, pulling out a small crop and slashing it across his chest.

  My smile grows and I feel heat build at the apex of my thighs as I watch her circle him, hitting and teasing him to the beat. Even though I know it’s all part of a show, I’m completely entranced. The power she holds over such a strong and powerful man, standing there completely submissive to her ministrations. My thighs rub together, eager for friction.

  “Hey,” Lola says as she approaches, and I frown.

  “I don’t want….”

  “On the house,” she says, sliding a drink across the table. I open my mouth to object before a cry from the stage has me whipping my attention back. My jaw drops as I watch Steve grab the crop midair, twisting it around until she’s wrapped in his arms.

  “I thought she was the Dom?” I say to her, using the terminology I am pretty sure suits this place.

  In a quick and seamless motion, he grabs the straps of her outfit, pushing her from the waist down and clipping them together quickly.

  “Just watch,” Lola whispers beside me and I find myself nodding at her words, unable to take my eyes off of Steve and Cinnamon. Her ass is in the air, clipped as she is, as he paces behind her. She struggles against the bonds and I watch her face closely as he moves in, striking her bare ass with the crop. She cries out in pleasure and the sound of the crack makes my clit twitch. I’m glad it's loud in here because I’m pretty sure I’m panting.

  “It’s all about power,” Lola says, reminding me she’s still standing there. “It’s a give and take. She has the control of the room and him, but only as long as he allows.”

  “They’re incredible,” I basically whisper as the pair continue their sexual and raw show. “She likes it?”

  Lola nods, coming a touch closer to me. “We all do. Like I said, it’s about control.” She pauses a moment before leaning in, breaking my attention. I look to her, noting the dilated pupils and parted lips. “My shift is almost over, I’d love to show you more of what we do.”

  My eyes trail up and down her body, the slutty girl’s dress so like my own, the blonde curls, and sultry expression. A slow smile spreads on my face and I let my teeth peek out to bite my lower lip. I’ve never had someone like her before, and already my mind races with ideas.

  “Yeah, that sounds great.”

  Chapter Five

  Teddy

  “Tell me again,” I encourage, poking her side and eliciting a small squeal.

  “Just let me go,” she sobs, and I roll my eyes, pointing a scalpel in her direction rather than repeat myself. Lola’s makeup runs down her face in black rivets, but she chokes in the sound, her lip quivering.

  “You know, that really isn’t very attractive,” I tell her, crinkling my nose as a bubble of snot pops from her nose. “I thought you said you liked this stuff?”

  “What the fuck’s wrong with you?” she sobs. I dry my hands on the stained towel and look down to see a big red stain on the front of my dress. My mouth widens and I look up to glare at her.

  “Look what you did! You ruined my dress!” I poke her and she shrieks again, making me laugh. Leaning down, I pick up her discarded dress, inspecting the lace on the edges.

  “This is quite poorly made,” I inform her, “but these, these are great.” I tug on one of the leather garters still around her thigh. Angry red marks puffed up behind it causing her skin to swell against the material. My hand trails down her thigh, enjoying the softness.

  “So, are you ready to try this again?” I ask with a raised brow. Lola chokes another sob but nods even as tears run down her face. I smile, grabbing the chain and attaching it to the collar at her neck before releasing the leg and arm restraints.

  Stepping back from the table, I hold the leash and wait, watching as she tries to sit up even while shaking like a leaf. When her feet touch the ground, her legs buckle and she drops. I giggle and poke her with my foot as she rises shakily to her knees.

  “Good girl,” I coo at her. “Now, lie down.”

  Her bottom lip quivers as she looks up at me, but she obediently lies on her side as I showed her. My smile grows.

  “Now, lick my shoe,” I tell her, pushing a foot out toward her. Lifting her head, she sticks her tongue out. When it’s only inches away, I kick my foot forward, relishing the crunch of her nose and the fresh swell of blood.

  “You’re right,” I say as I kneel down beside her. “It is about power, isn’t it?”

  “You don’t understand any of it,” she sobs, her voice muffled through the snot and blood running down her face. “You’re a psycho bitch. You don’t understand. This isn’t right, it’s about fucking consent, you cunt!”

  I l
ean forward so my face is only inches from hers, enjoying the way her breath hitches as I approach.

  “I hate that word,” I whisper. “You can call me Teddy.”

  Her screams are all the consent I need.

  ✽✽✽

  A wave of pleasure and relief washes over me as I watch the last of the light leave her eyes. Leaning over, I click play on the small speaker I brought with me and let the song wash over me.

  “You don’t have to put on the red light,” I sing along, closing my eyes and letting my body sway and move to the rhythm.

  I hear a sound behind me and stop dancing, turning to see Bud standing in the door watching. What the fuck is he doing here? I narrow my eyes and growl at him.

  “Fuck off, I’m busy,” I tell him, turning back to the table with a frown, my moment now interrupted. Oh well, guess I’ll get Branson to clean this shit up. I lean over to grab my knives; cleaning those has always been something I enjoyed. A moment later something brushes against my foot and I whip around to see Bud standing right there, grinning down at me.

  “Back the fuck off,” I tell him with narrowed eyes, picking up a scalpel and pointing it toward him. His grin only grows as I stand up straight. It's been years since he gave me crap. I’m a bit surprised he’d try now.

  When I was no more than thirteen, he tried to come after me, and the memories of Jane’s punishments still make me smile. I’m a bit amazed he’s forgotten that lesson, even if it has been years. One thing that Jane thought important, though fucked if I know why, was my virginity. She let me have all kinds of fun, but when Bud tried to steal my innocence, she almost killed him and spoke to me about it.

  “Teddy, you are going to be a beautiful woman. Men, men are idiots and only want one thing. Never give them that one thing. Take your pleasure but promise me you’ll not give that up.”

  I open my mouth to say something, to put Bud in his place, but before I can, his hand whips out and grabs my wrist, making me drop the small blade.