Prisoned: A Dark Twisted Erotic Standalone

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Prisoned: A Dark Twisted Erotic Standalone Page 15

by Marni Mann


  More red. More…

  Breathe, Kyle.

  “He’ll come to my house,” I finally said, “and when he realizes I’m not home and I haven’t been to work, he’ll come looking for me.”

  As Breath laughed, the knife wiggled on my neck. “Puta, your brother isn’t going to find you. We left no trace of your kidnapping. He can dig and search every fucking crevice of North America, but you and Garin simply”—he breathed a puff of air into my ear—“vanished.” He walked around to the front of me and straddled my legs. “Do you know what my boys do to punks like your brother?”

  “He’ll know I’m missing. That was all I was trying to say—”

  “We gut them.” He pointed the knife to the middle of my forehead. “We start here, stabbing right through the sinuses. Not hard enough to kill, but hard enough to paralyze with pain. Then, we use a chainsaw and run it down the middle of his face and cut off his nose.” He smiled, showing me his rotted teeth. “Who needs a nose anyway, right?” He licked mine, slowly rimming and flicking each nostril. “We skip down to the legs, tearing through the muscle, shredding the tendons, snapping the bones. Do you know why we skip the chest?”

  I shook my head as his erection pushed against my stomach. Death got him hard; gutting innocent victims turned him on. He was a monster—much worse than I’d thought.

  And I was at his mercy.

  “Because slashing through his chest would kill him right away,” Breath said, unbuttoning his pants, his dick falling through the hole of his boxers. “We want him to feel the sharpness of the blade as it rips him apart. Then, we let him scream until he dies. Once his heart finally stops beating, we slice open his chest.” He shifted on top of me, pushing his dick up toward my ribs, holding the back of my neck so that I couldn’t move. “Maybe I’ll have one of my boys go to Florida on the first and bring your brother here.” He moaned as he rubbed his dick over my stomach, pushing hard enough that my skin gave him friction. “Because I want to gut him. I want to gut anyone that tries to save you. And I want you to watch while I do it.” The way he rocked his hips and groaned reminded me of a rabid raccoon. Spit shone across his blackened smile. His eyes spread wide and his pupils dilated. “Look down, puta. I want you to see what you do to me.”

  I didn’t want to look down. I knew what would happen if I did…and I knew what would happen if I didn’t. Just as I glanced at my lap, thick streams of cum shot over my stomach, reaching as high as my breasts.

  He grunted my name, “Kyle, Kyle, Kyle,” with every pump of his hips. His seed smelled worse than his breath.

  “You’re sick, you know that? You’re fucking sick and twisted, and I—”

  “And you love it. That’s why you’re not telling me the killer’s name. You want more of my sickness. More of my cum. And I’m going to give it to you…”

  “No!” My eyes caught the white glob that was slowly running down the top of my breast. I couldn’t take any more of his cum. His breath. I had to get out of here. I had to grab Garin and flee somehow. “I don’t want this—”

  The knife was back. He belted me across the face with the handle. I screamed as blood squirted from my nose and sprayed across his chest. It dripped to my lips. When I opened my mouth to take a breath, I tasted the coppery flavor. And plastic.

  There was always plastic.

  He wiped the blood off my cheek and smeared it all over his. Then, he scooped up more and smiled as he painted it across his neck. “I’m going to cover myself in your blood as I cover you in my cum.”

  “No!” I screamed as he shoved the tip of the knife into my bicep. “You just stabbed me.”

  As blood poured from the hole, he leaned forward and rubbed his face in it. “Mmm,” he moaned. “And I’m going to stab you again.”

  The roughness of his whiskers scraped across the wound, and I shouted from all the pain. I shouted as his tongue lapped my skin. I shouted from the burning I still felt in my feet. And I shouted from the look in his eyes. It was one I’d seen only once before, but it hadn’t been this intense…this delusional.

  “Blood gets me all”—he glanced down as he jerked his erection against my stomach—“hard and fucking horny.”

  When he smiled again, I shivered.

  “Stick out your tongue.”

  I knew this was only going to cause more pain since he’d grabbed ahold of my tongue before, but I didn’t think I had another choice. There was a knife in his hand, and he got off on the sound of my cries.

  I slowly parted my lips, and as my tongue came through, he clamped his fingers around it. My eyes watered, and my stomach churned from the gagging.

  “I want you to ask yourself how much your tongue means to you. Because there’s a good chance you’re going to wake up, and it’s going to be gone. I’m going to rip it from your mouth and use it to paint your blood all over my body, and then I’m going to use it to jerk off.”

  He finally released my tongue, and I sucked in as much air as I could.

  “You must be hungry by now. I could feed it to you.” He bit into my cheek so hard that I thought he was going to take a chunk out of it. “Your cum-covered tongue, piece by piece. I’ll even cut it up for you, so you don’t have to swallow it all at once. You can take your time with it. Really chew it.”

  I couldn’t hide the emotion on my face, the anxiety that caused my whole body to shake, the fear that was gnawing as deeply as the babies had chewed my feet. He was getting what he wanted, and I was sure he could see it all over me.

  How long could I endure this?

  Was it even worth it?

  Not if I didn’t get out of here alive.

  “I have work to do.” He reached behind him, his hand returning with a syringe.

  “What kind of work? What are you going to do to me? Are you going to take my tongue…” My voice drifted off as he shot the liquid into my body. I no longer felt my mouth. Or my tongue.

  I felt heat.

  I felt each ray wrap its toasty light around me.

  And then all I saw was black.

  Twenty

  Kyle

  “Kyle.”

  The sound of Garin’s voice started to break through the fog. I couldn’t decipher his words; I could just hear the different tones that came out of him. And I could feel him—the warmth of his skin on mine, the smell of his air. His presence.

  Kyle.

  It took several blinks until I finally heard what he was asking.

  Wake up, Kyle.

  He wanted me to wake up. So, I tried to liven my body, wiggling my toes, pressing my knees closer together. They hurt, much more than I was prepared for. I stretched out my fingers and my arms and my shoulders, and those were really sore, too. I opened my eyes last.

  “Hi.”

  I was greeted by green. Garin’s green. So deep, so perfect, so gemlike that it almost made me squint. They stared into mine and didn’t move. Neither did his face as it hovered over me. Close. So close I could smell him…so I knew. I knew it really was Garin. Not Breath. No torture chamber. Just Garin and me.

  And our cell.

  “Hi,” I whispered back, groaning into my palm as the hurt started to really spike. My tongue ached like it had been sucked through the hose of a vacuum for hours. But it was still attached; that was the important part. I did a quick shimmy to make sure all of me was still attached. I was naked, but I was all there.

  “I’m going to lift your head, so I can stand, but I don’t want you to get up, and I don’t want you to move.”

  I looked at his face again. “Where am I?”

  “On my thigh. That’s where you’ve been sleeping.”

  He moved gingerly, sliding out from under my head, gently resting a blanket in its place. He was treating me as though I were broken. Foggy, stabbed, achy, yes. But I wasn’t broken. At least not yet.

  The way he had me faced didn’t have a view of the toilet or sink, so I wasn’t able to see what he was doing. But I heard the water running and the toil
et flush. I smelled the sweet scent of the soap. Then, there were footsteps and a rush of air as he knelt down beside me.

  “The water is as hot as I could make it.” He lifted the blanket and tucked it up to my knees. “Tell me if it hurts, and I’ll stop.”

  He dropped the soapy toilet paper onto my toes, and I jumped. “It’s okay. Put it back,” I said when he lifted the paper off me. “It was just hotter than I thought it would be.”

  “Your toes are in pretty rough shape.”

  I didn’t want to tell him about the babies. The less I talked about it, the easier it would be to get it out of my mind. I hoped.

  “You’re making them feel more comfortable,” I said.

  He left the clump soaking over my feet and moved up to my face, holding another clump of heat against my cheek. “Did someone bite you?” He ran his thumb over the mark on my bicep. “And stab you?”

  “I…don’t know. I think I blacked out.”

  A lie.

  Another one to add to the growing list. I just didn’t want him to worry or to get violent the next time Beard came in to give us food. The gun Beard continued to flash at us every time he came into our cell made it impossible for us to try and escape or to win a fight if we tried to start one.

  “Tell me what happened to you, Kyle.” His stare was so healing, so nurturing. But so helpless in this horrible place.

  “It looks much worse than it feels. Like I said, I blacked out. I don’t remember much, besides waking up a few minutes ago.”

  You lied. Again.

  As he tended to my wounds, I relived it. There was no hope of forgetting it. Snapshots of how each mark was born—the torture, the threats, the promises. How every part of Breath’s body had been used to abuse me.

  Every time I was taken from this cell, I returned in worse shape. I had to come up with a plan before there was nothing left of me.

  “How long was I asleep?” I asked.

  I didn’t know how many clumps of toilet paper he’d brought over, but there were now several on the ground. All of them were tinted a dark brown, but at least my skin was clean.

  “You were gone for three days, I think. I counted how many times the window turned light and dark. And you’ve been back for at least one. You’ve been asleep since Beard dropped you off.”

  All of that pain because I was unable to answer Breath’s simple question.

  “I’m not going to let it go, Kyle. I want to know what he did to you.”

  I lifted my hand to his face. The bruises were almost gone. The scrapes had all but healed. “Did they take you?”

  “No.” His hand circled around my fingers and squeezed. “Answer me. I know you remember.”

  Everyone wanted answers.

  “Garin—” My voice was cut off by the look in his eyes. There was so much anger in them. I was worried about his fists, and what he was going to do to the cement walls. “I survived. That’s what matters. Recounting the details isn’t going to help my breathing. It isn’t going to help you. And it certainly isn’t going to help us.”

  “I want to kill them.”

  “Shh.” I stuck my finger in the air, signaling him to come closer.

  He wanted to protect me, and I loved that about him. He wanted revenge, and I loved that even more.

  When he gave me his ear, I whispered, “They can hear you. There’s a microphone somewhere in here.”

  It wasn’t on any of the walls or the ceiling. I’d looked at both of them so many times. I’d memorized them. Every bump, every rock, every dent in the concrete. It had to be somewhere I couldn’t see.

  I pointed at the windowsill.

  He moved over to it, gripping the ledge to pull himself up. He was only up there for a second before he lowered himself back down.

  Camera? I mouthed.

  Microphone, he mouthed back.

  He returned to the wall that I was now leaning against, and he sat next to me. He wrapped his arms around me, and when he pulled me into his lap, I winced. I regretted the sound the second it came out of my mouth.

  “Fuck.” His arms dropped. “I’m sorry; I wasn’t even thinking.”

  “No, Garin, don’t stop touching me.” I wiggled in between his legs, pushed my back into his chest, and locked his hands over my stomach. “I’m fine. I may not look it, but I am.”

  He tucked his face into my neck. I could tell by his breathing that something wasn’t right.

  “Tell me what’s on your mind before I take control of your lips and don’t release them for a very long time.”

  “Jesus, Kyle, I thought they killed you.” There wasn’t anger in his exhale. It was pain. “I heard you scream. For two days, I heard it, and I just sat in this goddamn cell. Beard didn’t bring any food, so I couldn’t even attempt to get out. Your screams…they fucking destroyed me.”

  I had to see his face, so I pulled my body off his and turned around. I held in the gasp, but it wasn’t easy.

  This whole time, I hadn’t even considered that Breath would out me. If Garin had any idea that I knew who Paulie’s killer was…

  “Did you hear anything else?”

  “No.” His eyes narrowed. “But I was going to murder the next person who came into this cell. The next person ended up being you.”

  I should have felt relief. I should have turned back around and snuggled into his chest again. But I couldn’t move. Something inside me was making my chin quiver. Was making my lips shake. Was making tears well in my eyes.

  My body was paralyzed with guilt, and it showed all over my face. I had to try and hide it. He couldn’t know. He couldn’t…

  “You saved me,” I blurted out.

  “No, I didn’t, Kyle. I couldn’t get my hands on them.”

  “But, in my mind, you did. You were the happiness I felt when he was torturing me. Your face and presence. You got me through it. You told me to breathe.”

  “You stopped screaming after the second day. A whole day went by, and you still hadn’t returned. I had nothing, not even whispers to hold on to.” He ground his teeth together. “Do you know what that did to me? What it made me think?”

  “I’m here now.”

  He nodded, as though he were reminding himself of the same thing. “Come here.” He tapped his leg with the back of his hand. “Lie down right here.”

  “I don’t want to lie down.”

  I watched him tug at the corner of his mouth, and I was jealous of his teeth. Jealous that they got to bite into the flesh that I wanted to sink into.

  “You need—”

  “I need you, Garin. I need you to make me forget about those three days.”

  He shook his head. “No fucking way.”

  He had washed everything off me, but he hadn’t cleansed the memories.

  “I need you to take my mind to a different place. My body…take my body, too.”

  “You’re too sore. You’re cut.”

  “I’m fine. Please.” I dug my nails into his thighs and looked at him through my lashes. “I need this. I’m begging you.”

  It took him a few seconds before he responded, and then I slowly started to see the change in his eyes. The dominance was back. The control. The need.

  “You don’t want it soft.”

  He didn’t phrase it as a question. I loved that.

  “Or slow,” he continued.

  “No. I don’t want either.”

  His growl tore through the entire cell as he moved on top of me. He stripped his clothes so fast that I was sure they had ripped. I expected him to slide between my legs, for his lips to be somewhere on my body, his hand on my clit. I expected the memories to sink into the cement below me.

  But all I got was a stare. A lick across his bottom lip. His fingers giving his erection a few pumps. I was thankful there wasn’t a video camera inside our cell. Breath probably would have punished me for his insecurities when he compared his pathetic hard-on to the length and girth of Garin’s.

  “How far can I take it?


  He had all of me. He had to know that by now.

  “There are no limits.”

  “You’re sure?”

  I spread my legs wider, so my feet pressed against the outside of his thighs, and I dipped my hand between them. As I found my clit, I gently rubbed it. “I’m definitely sure.”

  “Fuck,” he moaned. “Do you know how sexy you look, touching your clit the way my tongue would?”

  Touch me.

  After three days in the torture chamber and another day fully asleep, I had an idea of how I looked, how I smelled, how desperately my body needed a very long soak in an extremely hot tub. But I wouldn’t have known that by the way he was staring at me.

  “How does it feel, Kyle?”

  “Ahh,” seeped through my lips. “Not as good as you.”

  “Do you want my fingers?”

  I nodded, lifting my hand off my pussy.

  He licked his pointer and middle finger and dropped them between my legs. I felt one on my clit, rubbing much rougher, much faster, than I had and it caused me to buck against his palm. But I really started to scream when his other finger moved to my ass. He didn’t tease the hole, like he had last time, or tickle between my cheeks. He drove straight inside. It took a second for my body to adjust, for the invasion to turn to pleasure, but I was quickly reminded of how good this could feel.

  “You look like you’re about to ask for something. What aren’t I giving you, Kyle?”

  “You.” I reached out, but his dick was still too far away. “Come closer, so I can touch you.”

  Touch me.

  “You’re going to get plenty of that in a second.” His hand slowed, but his power increased, pulling out to the ends of his fingers and driving back in. He did it several more times and then flipped me onto my stomach. “You want more?” He leaned into my back, his erection pressed against my cheeks.

  “Yes.”

  “No limits?”

  “No limits.”

  He parted my cheeks, his dick pressing against my hole. “I want your fucking ass.”

  I could feel the bead of cum on his tip that was soon going to mix with my wetness. In anticipation, I reached over my head and gripped the blanket, digging it between my nails to prepare myself for how this was going to feel.

 

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