Dirty Bad Savage

by Jade West

  “That isn’t what this is!” I hissed. “I promise.”

  He lunged from the shadows, pinning me like he’d done on the very first day we’d met. His body was a wall of hot iron against mine, chest heaving with every raspy breath. I stared up into hollow eyes, faint orange streetlight the only illumination in the night. Callum was magnificent in his anger, arms rigid as they caged me, jaw clenched tight with rage. “Wanted it rough, didn’t ya? So fucking rough. Posh guys don’t fuck like me, do they? Too much to lose, too much to give a fuck about to really scare you.”

  “That isn’t right,” I said. “It isn’t like that.”

  His teeth pressed to my cheek. “You used me.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “You don’t fucking want me, just my cock.”

  “No!”

  “She looked at me like I was a piece of shit, and you didn’t say a fucking word. Not a fucking word. You threw me back onto the street like a used rubber.”

  “I wasn’t throwing you out!” I screeched. “I just needed some time.”

  “YOU THREW ME OUT! Just like me fucking mam did. Ain’t nobody wants a monster like me, do they? I ain’t worth fucking shit!”

  I flinched as he kicked out at the wall, landing his foot right between my legs and only just missing my knee. “I didn’t throw you out, Callum, I swear.”

  “Didn’t want me no more, did ya? Not when she was there. Judged me like her, didn’t ya? Ashamed.”

  “I’m not ashamed.”

  “YOU WERE!” He took my wrists in one hand to hold them high, clamping his fingers tight around my throat. “Don’t follow me,” he growled. “Stay the fuck away.”

  I rubbed my neck while he retreated, my hand on Casey’s back until she followed.

  I hobbled my way along after him. My progress was slow and awkward, breath loud in my ears as I tried to follow in his footsteps.

  A doggy whine alerted me to their location. It rang out just once, from my left, down by the bin storage.

  “Callum?” I croaked. “Are you there?”

  A security light glowed dull as I stepped into the trash yard. It was a stinky shithole, black bins pilled high along the walls. A couple of wheeled bins had been tipped on their side, spilling recycling waste across the tarmac.

  “Callum?”

  “You must have a fucking death wish.” The light here suited him, caressed the hard lines of his face.

  “I won’t give up,” I said. “I love you too much.”

  “Love my fucking cock, you mean.”

  “I love more than your cock, Callum.”

  He circled me like a lone wolf would hunt deer, eyes heavy and considered. “I’m a savage,” he said. “That’s what you want from me.”

  “No.”

  “You don’t know where I’ve been, what I’ve seen. Don’t know what I’ve done, Sophie. What I had to do to survive.”

  “Stop it,” I snapped. “Please, Callum. Please let’s just go home.” I held out a hand but he didn’t take it.

  “You wet for me? I bet you are. You like it fucking dangerous.”

  “I like it at home,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  “Wanna play hard, is that it?”

  “I want to you to come home!”

  “Home? Here’s my home, amongst the shit and the piss and the trash. Here’s where I belong, Sophie. Wanna see who I am?”

  “I know who you are!” I hissed. “And I know I hurt you, I know that. I didn’t mean to!”

  He pulled his hoodie off over his head. His chest was so fucking beautiful in that light. The darkness played with his tattoos, casting orange shadows over the plains of his chest. I sucked in my breath. He was so fucking beautiful. His abs rippled as he moved, the V of his hips trailing away under the low hang of his jeans.

  “Run,” he growled.

  “No.”

  “You’d better.”

  “Never.”

  “I’ll hurt you. Tear you apart. Take what I want.”

  I dropped my bag, shrugged off my jacket to leave me in just a flimsy blouse and a short skirt. “I’m yours.”

  “You ain’t mine. Never have been.”

  “I’ll prove it,” I rasped. “Do whatever you want, you’ll never get me to leave.”

  “That a fucking promise, is it?” he seethed. “Wanna make it up to me now? Too fucking late.”

  “Do it, Callum. Make me yours.”

  “SHUT UP!” he boomed.

  Casey whined again from the shadows and he hissed her to be quiet. My clammy fingers fumbled with the buttons on my blouse, “You want this?”

  He stopped pacing for a moment, dark eyes roving my skin. “Don’t.”

  I slipped out of the blouse, let it drop to the floor. “What do I have to do, Callum? Tell me?”

  “Fuck off,” he said. “For your own good.”

  “No.” I stood proud, with my shoulders back and head high. “Show me your worst.”

  I backed away as he lunged, but only for a moment. His grip was savage at the nape of my neck, twisting my head and driving me down onto all fours. He dragged me along by my hair as my knees grazed along the floor.

  “This is who I am,” he spat. “This is where I come from.”

  He pushed my face into the stack of rubbish bins, burying my nose amongst the stink until I retched. Only then did he let go, turning attention to the mounds of trash instead. He tore up the bags like a lunatic, spilling armfuls of filth and crap onto the tarmac. I heard the smashing of glass, the rattle of tin cans, and all around me the slop of residue filled my nostrils like an acrid soup.

  Callum dropped to his knees at my side. His hands were rough as they hitched up my skirt, and rougher still as he tore into the flimsy lace of my panties. He bunched them up in his hand, then stuffed them into my mouth, shoving them in all the way to the back. I gagged on the fabric, my own taste ripe on my tongue.

  “Keep fucking quiet.”

  The slime on the floor was cold around my knees. I groaned into my gag as the rancid sea reached my hands.

  “Smell that. The scent of fucking survival.” He sniffed it all in, revelling in the stench. “Never had to look through other people’s leftovers for your dinner, have ya? Wouldn’t have the first fucking clue. Don’t pay to be picky when you got a belly screaming for food.” He slapped his hand in the mess, then stroked my face, running liquid filth down my cheek. “You can be Queen of my world, if you like. Queen of the fucking streets. Better to be my dirty Queen than Daddy’s little princess, don’t ya think?”

  I closed my eyes, desperate to block out the stench. “Let’s paint you pretty, my new piece of art. Living art.” He wrenched up my bra up until my tits hung freely, then daubed them in filth, rubbing it all around my nipples. “Fuck yeah, dirty bitch. Hurts to be degraded, don’t it? Hurts to be fucking nothing.”

  He rooted around some cartons at his side, emptying the shit out until he found something to his liking. I daren’t look. “You’ll like this, Sophie, it’ll really fucking suit you.”

  I screamed into the gag as he dumped a bottle of liquid on my head. Milk. It was milk. I forced back the vomit as milk dripped from my hair, sour and festering and fucking disgusting.

  His laugh was bitter. “Run home to your nice world, leave us here where we belong, rich girl.”

  Tears welled over as my eyes met his, but still I didn’t move. I didn’t run from him.

  “Not enough for ya yet?” he seethed. “Oh, I get it. You want more. You want me to decorate your pretty little cunt.”

  My stomach lurched.

  “Let’s see what we’ve fucking got here.” He held up a scrappy box of cereal. “I’d have saved this for later as a kid, keeps longer, you see.” He scooped up something that looked like baked beans, all clumpy on his fingers. “This, though, I’d have had to eat this straight away.”

  I shuffled away this time as he came for me, squealing as my knees crunched on something sharp. He pulled the panties from my
mouth and I choked in relief but only for a second before his fingers were wrestling with my tongue, the putrid taste of stale food pounding my senses. I hacked up onto the tarmac, retching with everything I had. “Ain’t no dessert if you don’t eat your main,” he sneered. “Ain’t no place to be fucking picky.”

  I sobbed onto the floor, sobbed for me but mainly for him, the reality of life on the streets hitting harder than any of his filthy demonstrations. “I’m sorry,” I wheezed. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Why be sorry?” he hissed. “Made me the man I am today, the man whose cock you want so much.”

  “I love you,” I cried. “I made a mistake, that’s all.”

  “You made a mistake coming here.”

  “No.”

  “Still want cock, do you? After all this?”

  “I want you.”

  “Such a trooper for cock, you are.” He slid his greasy fingers between my thighs, thumbing my clit as my tears fell. “This making you wet? Dirty bitch.”

  I shook my head, but his grip was good, circling my pussy in perfect motions.

  “Gonna tear you down.”

  I nodded. “Do it.”

  “Want my big fat cock? Want me to fuck you?”

  “Please,” I cried. “Prove I’m yours.”

  “You like playing with the savage, don’t ya? Like being fucking scared.”

  I didn’t bother with words this time, just moaned in invitation.

  “Let’s see how scared you get before you fucking break.”

  He flipped me on my back in a heartbeat, amongst the dregs of sour milk and rotten food. I didn’t fight, just took it. Breathing heavy as he loosened his jeans. I reached up for him, roving my hands over his chest, his stomach, all the way down until I found his cock waiting for me. It was thicker than my wrist, pumped stiff, veins bulging. The beautiful purple glans glistened in the darkness. He lowered himself onto me, slamming me with one savage thrust.

  “I hurt you,” I wheezed. “Hurt me back.”

  “Don’t wanna hurt you,” he groaned. “Wanna send you back where you fucking belong.”

  “I belong where you are.”

  “No you fucking don’t,” he growled. “Gonna break you.”

  My pussy felt so good with him inside me. I moaned as he fucked me, bucking to reach his thrusts. My hair was slick with grease and sour milk, my face sticky with fuck knows what, and still I bucked for him.

  “Yes...” I moaned. “Fucking take me...”

  “Fight me,” he hissed. “Fight me and go home where you belong.”

  “Never.”

  “Fair enough,” he snarled. I wasn’t prepared for the hands around my throat. My eyes flew wild in shock as he cut off my breath, fingers scrabbling for his as he choked me. He leaned down, his mouth in my ear, his cock buried to the hilt and his weight all on one arm as he fucked me and stole my breath in unison. “Fight me. Fight off the savage and run away.”

  I took my hands away from his, reaching up gently to stroke his face. I felt him flinch. My eyes were filled with nothing but love as he took my breath, my pussy still wet for him, still hot for him, still desperate for him.

  Casey whined, confused. Jumping around us and growling softly. I would have soothed her if I could.

  There was panic as my body began to fight, a flailing against the pressure as I tried to gulp in air. I could hear Casey more frantic, barking and growling and whining in circles all around us. The world began to fade, but it felt fucking good. I felt Callum’s lips on mine and managed a smile against his mouth.

  My body took over as he freed me, coughing and spluttering and gasping for breath until my lungs recovered.

  “Are you fucking mental?” he said.

  “Something like that,” I rasped.

  My mouth was starving for his, hands in his hair desperate to force him down to me. He gave in to the urges, burying deep inside and fucking me the way we usually fuck.

  So fucking dirty.

  So fucking bad.

  So fucking savage.

  I thought I’d got him, pulled him back from the edge of pain, but as he approached climax his eyes turned dull again.

  I felt him leaving me, disappearing back inside his hurt.

  He got up without speaking, pulled his clothes on.

  “Don’t come here again,” he said. “Ever.”

  “Callum...” I started, but his eyes stopped me dead in my tracks.

  “Ever, Sophie. I never want to fucking see you again.”

  He called Casey, and she followed reluctantly, looking back at me with sad eyes. It jolted me into action and I jumped to my feet.

  “Please, Callum, please don’t do this.”

  “It’s done. You don’t love me.”

  “Yes, I do!” He didn’t answer, just fastened his jeans. My hands were in my rancid hair, struggling for words. “What about Casey?” I hissed. “Please!”

  “What about her?” he spat.

  “She’s not a stray anymore, Callum, she’s an indoor dog now. She loves cuddles on the sofa, and a warm bed, and proper food every night.”

  “Don’t we fucking all.”

  “Please,” I begged. “Please let me take her.”

  He seemed to consider it, but again the shutters came down hard, eyes full of pain. “NO!” he boomed. “She’s all I’ve fucking got!”

  I covered my face with my hands as he stormed away, just to hide the tears.

  His next words came with a crack of emotion, his voice wavering for just a moment.

  “You’ve ripped my fucking heart out, Sophie! Ripped it fucking out!”

  And mine.

  I’d ripped mine out too.

  ***

  Callum

  I was lost. Casey was edgy, lagging behind and whining all the time I circled the block. Just walking. Walking to nowhere.

  I should’ve known, right from the beginning. Should’ve known a loser like me wasn’t good enough for someone like her.

  I don’t know how I ended up at Vick’s. I was at her door before I realised it, hammering so hard I nearly broke the fucker. She came to the door in her dressing gown, peering out through the crack.

  “Jesus, it’s you!” she screeched. “You scared me, thought it was the bloody Stoneys coming for me.” She flung the door open wide.

  “You were right, Vick. She weren’t real, weren’t serious.”

  “Shit, Cal.” She pulled me into a hug and I didn’t fight her. “Fucking hell, that’s shit, babe. I’m sorry.”

  “Ain’t your fault,” I rasped. “You warned me.”

  “I was just being a jealous bitch.”

  “Nah, you were just saying it out loud. I ain’t no good for someone like her.”

  “Wanna talk about it?” Her hands rubbed my back.

  I shook my head against her. “Nah, just don’t wanna be alone.”

  “You ain’t alone, Cal. You’ll never be alone, not with me and Slay around.” Casey jumped up at the pair of us, nose snuffling.

  I pulled away, and we stood in silence to smoke. The night was quiet, so fucking quiet. Too fucking quiet.

  “Come inside,” she said. “I’ll get us a drink.”

  I shut Casey in the shed, and she grumbled a good while before she settled down, poor little sod. It would be hard on her, just like it would me. Vicki made us a cuppa and I perched on the sofa, brain fucking reeling. She sat down close to me, her hand on my knee.

  “It’ll be alright, Cal. We’ll be alright.”

  “Aye.” I didn’t believe it, though, didn’t believe a word of it. That fucking lump in my throat started up again.

  “I’m here for you,” Vicki said. “She ain’t worth no upset, stuck-up cow. She ain’t like us, Cal, we’re different. We stick together, we get each other, from the same mould.”

  I nodded, not really sure what I was agreeing to. I hadn’t got any fight left, just letting her yank my head to her chest. She nestled my face against her tits, arms wrapped round me, stro
king my hair.

  “I love you, Callum Jackson, even if she don’t.” I made to pull away but she held on tight. “Relax, Cal, let me hold you a minute. You need love, that’s what you need. Real love this time, someone who really cares.”

  My nose pressed tight against her soft tits, and she kissed my head.

  “Never really got chance to show you how much I love you, Cal. Can show you now, though, babe.”

  Guiding hands, teasing me backwards, my head on her thighs staring up at her smile. She loosened her dressing gown and pulled it open, her neat little tits on display. Her hands felt nice on my face, stroking me.

  “That’s it, Cal, just relax.”

  I was getting fucking hard again, horny over Sophie Harding on her knees in the rubbish. I forced the memory away. She was fucking gone now. Gone from me.

  Vicki was stroking her tits. “Most relaxing thing in the world,” she soothed, just ask Slay, sends him right off. Not you though, Cal, I’m gonna make you feel good.”

  A nipple flopped against my lips and I sucked it in. It tasted like baby lotion.

  “Yes...” Vicki moaned. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted for this, Cal... so long...”

  I tried to lose myself in her. Maybe she could love me, maybe she was the only one who ever would. I put it to the test, clamping my teeth fucking hard.

  “Fuck, Callum, ow!” she hissed. “No wonder they say you’re fucking rough!”

  Her hand moved down my stomach, coming to rest at the bulge in my jeans. She was gasping, little snatches of air, her greedy palm rubbing at my cock through the denim. I sucked her little tit right into my mouth and gave it all I got.

  “Stop, Cal, stop!” she rasped. “Can’t take no more of that. It really fucking hurts.”

  Hurts? She should be fucking moaning for more. Nah, she weren’t the one for me. Not even close.

  I hated her for it, but not as much as I hated myself for not loving her back. I slapped her hand away, sitting back up as she gawped at me, rubbing her teeth-marked tit.

  “Sorry, Vick. This just ain’t me.”

  She looked so hurt. She could join the fucking club.