by CJ Roberts
I propped my elbows as I watched her, trying to figure out her secret but I came up empty. She stood still for a moment with her back turned toward me before slowly turning around, half her face cast in shadows while the rest of her body was bathed under the moonlight.
Olivia took a deep breath before she untied the ribbons on her dress with shaky fingers. I felt bad to see her terrified face. I wanted to hug her and scoop her back to bed and fuck her senseless, but I knew I needed to see this, whatever it was.
“Behold, the circus’ finest freak,” she muttered. As the last ribbon was untied, her dress unravel itself and pooled to the floor.
I jolted out of the bed, ignoring the pain on my back as I stared at her in horror. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Her pale skin glowed under the moonlight, making her look like she was from another world. Her long waves of jet black hair tumbled over her delicate shoulders, just barely concealing her pink nipples and perfect breasts. She was perfect. She was exquisite, the finest creature I’d ever seen.
What was horrifying were the marks on her skin. They started from her crotch—hundreds of tiny butterflies—they grew bigger and more spread out as they traveled across her abdomen, breasts, and shoulders. I saw the perfectly winged shapes marking her creamy skin. They were stunningly beautiful, a work of art. But they were horrifying because the butterflies weren’t inked on her skin. They were carved out of her flesh, as if she was a piece of wood and someone carved out these butterflies on her skin. They were scars. Beautiful, horrifying scars. Olivia was a living, breathing sculpture. A work of art.
“What happened to you?” I said in aghast.
She looked at me from her thick heavy eyelashes and smiled painfully.
“My father was a carpenter. We were very…poor. My father’s work didn’t sell well, and it caused him to stress a lot and became abusive. I remember my mother and I huddled together when he came home every night, angry like a demon raising from Hell. He was like a time bomb ready to explode. Then one day, he grabbed me and took me into his shed where he kept all his tools. My mother tried to stop him but he locked the door. I still remember the way she pounded her fists against the door screaming at the top of her lungs. But my father ignored her and strapped me on the table. He spent days carving me. Sometimes he got angry and stuffed my mouth with dirty cloth to shut me up.”
“Oh, God,” I whispered in horror. I couldn’t breathe when she told me her tale. I felt like I had jumped into her memories and was living inside her skin, experiencing her pain. I suddenly felt violent, angry at the man who had hurt her. I wanted to break him with my hands and give him a slow death. How could he do that to his own daughter?
“Anyhow, I was his most prized possession. He sold me at an auction. I wasn’t purchased for half a million like you. They paid twenty-three million for me. I was a living doll and everybody wanted me. To taste me. I’ve been a whore all my life, until my father bought me back after he was successful with his dealings in the Underground.”
I jumped out of bed and wrapped her in my arms. I knew Livvie was my tormentor, but in my arms, she was just a small, frightened woman. She was someone I had to protect. I felt a fierce need to cocoon her from the world. From her father. I vowed to save her. I vowed to save us both. We needed to get out. I racked my brain, figuring out how to escape with my captor. The captor who I fell in love with.
One thing was for sure—we needed an escape plan.
About the Author
Aimi is an aspiring writer living under many identities. If she’s a supernatural creature, she’d be a vampire who feeds on emotions. She has a wicked tendency to break into people’s minds and paint their world with her universe.
She was born and raised in the United Kingdom and is currently twenty-two years old.
Aimi can be reached through her tumblr page: contrite-sinner.tumblr.com
Rotten Jealousy
By Ariane Solal
Honorable Mention
CJ’s Thoughts: This was an assault in the best way. It made me wonder what Livvie would be like if she’d been more fragile, weak, and broken by her ordeal with Caleb. What if he fostered such co-dependency in her that she became…mush. Though short, I enjoyed the idea and it really took their story in a new direction. I adored the fragmented sentences that were reminiscent of my style in the book. Very nice portrayal of obsession. Great job!
I wake up, I breathe, I smile. I think about him. I smile even more.
I breathe, I live, I think about him.
“I love you.”
I still remember those languid words he pronounced, the blood running around my body to come knocking at the door of my heart. I shiver. My heart shines and warms up every fragment of my existence. I breathe, I live, I think about him. And sometimes I come. Alone or with him.
I love him. I want to curl up in his arms, feel his skin brush past mine. Electrify myself. It’s thanks to him that I breathe and that I live. I want him, for me, only for me. When his hands go all over my thighs, I approach elation. His warm lips on mine, his velvety tongue in my mouth… Orgasm overcomes my body and my heart.
When I wake up and he is not there, I still can smell him on his pillow. I smile as I hug it. When I walk, I like to impersonate the way he walks. Left foot, heel to toes, and then the right foot. It makes me smile. I feel silly. Silly to copy the least of his moves as if they were on some music paper I know by heart.
I think about him, I live, I breathe. I exist, even if everything in my life stops until he comes back to me.
Time goes by. I imagine him thinking about me. How much does he miss me? Can he feel my impatience? Today, it’s our anniversary. What a day to celebrate! When I met him, I thought he was going to be the death of me. But instead, he brought me back to life. I bought some candles, his favorite champagne, even some sexy lingerie. He loves me in black.
He loves me tied up to the bed. And I cannot refuse him anything. Because he owns me. Body and soul.
My phone rings. It’s him. Text message. Sorry, meeting with Reed. I’ll be late. What?! No, no, no, no, not now! Not today! Today it’s our anniversary, today is important, today it’s him and me! He can’t do that to me! He’s not allowed! What I’m going to do?! He can’t just let me alone! My tears blur my vision and my thoughts.
I call him. Once. No answer. Twice. Still no answer. I call him again and again. He doesn’t answer. I’m alone with his voicemail. I cry, I shake, I scream.
Calm the fuck down! Why do you always to that? You need to stop and think rationally. He told you he was busy, he’ll come home later. No big deal. Just calm down.
My throat feels tight. I can’t breathe properly. It’s not the first time I do that. So why doesn’t he answer me? I call him once again. He has turned his phone off. No! No! I don’t know what to do. I don’t feel fine. My heart…my heart beats like a crazy drum. Too fast. I’m dizzy. I don’t know if I live anymore, I don’t know if I think about him anymore. The only thing I feel is my blood under my skin. It’s boiling. Like me. I’m wearing one of his shirts. I like wearing his clothes. Always smell like him. As long as I got that, he can’t leave me. He won’t leave me without leaving a small part of himself. It’s love. I know it. I lie down on the floor. I still can’t breathe.
And then, the phones rings. It’s him! It has to be! My lungs burn. I need some air. I have to answer the phone or Caleb will think something terrible happened to me!
I hope it’s him.
“Olivia!”
I sob.
“Livvie, I remind you every time. You need to stop harassing me.”
“But you said you were going to be late… I was scared…”
“For fuck’s sake, Olivia, I’m at work! I have to stay there, do you understand? Reed needs me to find others slave drivers. DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND? It’s not only you anymore. »
I can’t speak out loud. I whisper. “You don’t understand, I was scared.”
“Scared of what, Olivia? Why are you alwa
ys scared? It’s not healthy, Kitten… You can’t react like that every fucking time I’m late!”
“But…”
“But what, Olivia, damn it?”
“I’m scared you’re cheating on me…”
He doesn’t say anything else. Why doesn’t he say anything else? He should tell me I’m ridiculous, that I’m the only one, that he loves me and he couldn’t leave in a world where I didn’t exist.
“I don’t cheat on you Livvie… But, Kitten, you need to know…”
“What? What do I need to know? Tell me, please.”
“You suffocate me…”
It happens. A sword pierces through me. My body aches everywhere. I hear a scream. My scream. I didn’t know I was screaming. I drop the phone. In the distance, I hear Caleb shouting, “Olivia! Olivia, are you still there? Fuck, baby, answer me, please, Livvie!”
My face is dripping with tears. I taste their saltiness on my dry lips. I tear my shirt off with my hands, with my teeth. I’m biting myself. I’m bleeding. I hurt. Buttons bounce on the wooden floor. A floor where we already fucked after a day of teasing. I love to tease him. I love when he can’t control his strength and can’t wait to be on the bed to fuck me. He bruises me with his hands. I’m his to do what he wants to do.
“Olivia! Olivia! Answer me!”
His voice… It resounds in my head. It will always resound, even if I put his white shirt on my mouth and on my nose to prevent me to breathe.
The End
Trading Places
By Jessie Ceilidh
Honorable Mention
CJ’s Thoughts: Soo cute! And smexy! At one point I actually said (aloud) “OH NO, HE DIDN’T!”, and then I giddily giggled for way longer than is proper. You had it right - if Caleb ever allowed for this - he would DEFINITELY try to top from the bottom. This was also kind of beautiful in its way, because I imagine that Caleb was feeling very vulnerable and hiding it the way he usually does, and STILL he went on with it, gave of himself to the person he loves most in the world. Wonderful!
You took me to the most expensive restaurant in town. You were so elegantly handsome in your dark suit with your brightly patterned yellow tie. It always amazes me how I hunger for you when you’re in your suit. Even though I’ve seen you dressed thusly a thousand times, my body melts at the sight of you. I always pretend your tie needs straightening, and when I lean close I breathe you in. Oh, god, musk and man—things clench deep.
Dinner was stoic, you were unaccustomedly quiet. Usually you tell me in brutal detail what you have planned for me later, or dessert, as you call it, enjoying my blushes and sexual discomfort as I scissor my legs. You’ve even gone so far as to command me to remove my panties under the table and hand them to you, where you unobtrusively smelled my scent and then placed them in your pocket. You’ve ordered me to unbutton my silk shirt so my lacy covered tits are teasingly revealed to your heated gaze.
Tonight you sit there, intensely staring at me with your jaw ticking. You attempt to start a conversation, but you are obviously at a loss for words. Abandoning said attempt, you attack your food, ignoring me. My stomach drops. I’m getting more nervous as the dinner continues, chewing my lip and just pushing the delicious food around on my plate.
My mind is working overtime, this behavior so out of context with your nature that I’m ticking off things in my brain that I could have possibly done.
“You’re not eating, baby?”
Your voice jars me out of my reverie. I look up at you and I guess my expression showed you how totally lost I was feeling. You toss an insane amount of money on the table and are instantly at my side, pulling me up and against your chest. Lips to my forehead.
“Let’s go home.”
Placing your hand on the small of my back, you expertly weave us through the restaurant. You give the valet our ticket, and as soon as he leaves to get our car, you’re pulling me into your arms, your mouth devouring mine. Your hands are on my ass, pulling me up against your raging hard on. Oh. My. I return your ravaging of my mouth with some savagery of my own, biting and nipping as your tongue recedes. My hands undo your belt and are inside your pants palming your cock when we hear an embarrassed cough behind us.
I’m still giggling at caught like two horny teenagers as you practically push me in the car. You buckle my belt and attack my mouth again as your hand slips under my skirt and you find me soaked. Growling against my lip, you slide two fingers deep, not caring if the valet is getting a show.
Moaning, “Oh fuck!” into your mouth, I ride your fingers.
I feel bereft and empty when you leave to get behind the wheel. Your two fingers are still glistening with my juices and I watch you suck my essence off of them. Oh my fuck. My need is palpable in the air, hazel eyes slanted towards green and hooded with a lusty stare at you while you expertly pull out into traffic and start to speak.
“Last night was a night I never wanted to end. You have always let me possess your body in any way I want or need. I’ve never experienced your willingness to let me ‘own’ you with any other.” You pause for a minute and look at me, chuckling. “You may touch yourself if you want. You may come. It would please me.”
I hesitantly slide my hands between my thighs and work my clit as you requested.
You groan but continue, “When you surrendered your ass to me, when you trusted me to handle you with care, to go slow, and of course I did, until you were thrusting that sweet ass onto my cock and begging me for more, you were wild beneath me. When I felt you come, your ass squeezing me tight and contracting around my cock… I’ve never heard you make sounds like that before, and I can’t wait to hear them again.”
Your words are pushing me to the edge. I’m circling my clit, sinking two fingers deep, watching as your jaw ticks and your nostrils flare. Your voice is deeper and gravelly when you continue.
“You knew I hadn’t come yet, the throbbing evidence of that was buried to the hilt in your ass. You changed yet again, becoming the seductress, telling me how fucking good I felt in your ass, and then you rock that sweet ass up and down my throbbing cock, you whispered when you ask me if I liked the view, if I liked to watch my cock disappear balls deep inside you. You were begging me to fill your ass with my cum. Oh my fuck, baby, did I fill you! I came so hard and for so long that you came for me again.”
Oh. My. God! That fucking does it. I’m coming all over my fingers!
“Good girl,” you whisper.
When I’ve come back down to earth, you continue, “I’ve purchased a few things for you and they are in a box on our bed at home. I’m going to surrender to you, I’m going to give you my trust.”
I must look somewhat confused. You say that it will soon become crystal clear.
We travel in silence the rest of the way, me practically purring from my release and the words that pushed me over, you lost in your thoughts. We pull into our driveway and you tell me to go inside and fix you a drink and to go open my gift. You say you’ll be waiting for me.
You’re still in the car while I fix your drink. I leave it on the dining room table and go inspect my gift. I hear you come in as I lift the top off the box. What I see shocks me, but only for a moment. Then I’m overcome by a wave of tenderness. My strong, totally dominant man is about to let me “own” him. You trust me enough to surrender to me. I remember teasing you a few months back that if you wanted to fuck my ass that you had to be willing to let me fuck yours.
I pull out the harness and set it on the bed, finding edible massage oil in cherry flavor. Underneath is a cup-less black lace eyelet bra with matching garter and stockings. Of course, the matching panties are MIA. I quickly change into the lingerie and pull my curls into a sexy ponytail on top of my head. It takes me a minute to figure out the harness. The dildo is about an inch around and maybe five inches long, made out of that expensive, almost fleshy feeling silicone.
I’m sure you hear my stiletto heels echo on the wood floors as I search you out. I walk into the stu
dy and find you gloriously naked in front of the full length window, the moonlight peeking through the trees and leaving the most decadent shadows on your body. I know you’re letting me get my fill of you, the perfection of you.
Finally you turn around. You seem relieved that I had on your gifts and the oil in my hand. You walk up to me and kiss me deeply. Your hands are everywhere, as are mine. We make out for a bit, fanning the desire. I finally break away, grabbing your hand, and lead you to the bedroom.
I push you down onto the bed, my lips starting at your neck and working my way down to each nipple. Tongue swirls, teeth nip, and lips suckle one while a hand pinches and tweaks the other. I’m greedy for the taste of you. I have to have you in my mouth. Stealthily, I work my way down to your gorgeous cock. I have you gripped in one hand and settle my lips on your head, letting them slowly slip over just the tip of you. I stroke my tongue right under the hood of your mushroom head, dipping my tongue into your slit to coax out the precum that I love. Oh, God, I’m so fucking turned on by you. I swallow your cock, press my nose to skin, and inhale your sexy man and musk smell. I swallow against your head and suck hard while I stroke my tongue up and down under your base, making slurping noises and drenching you with my saliva. From the sounds you’re making I don’t think you care… I work my mouth up and down your cock for a few minutes. I release you with a loud pop and huskily whisper, “Turn over, baby. Surrender to me.”
You turn over on your hands and knees, looking at me over your shoulder. I liberally apply the edible cherry massage oil to my hands and I have one hand pumping your cock as the other hand massages your ass cheek. I lean in and run my tongue from the base of your balls all the way up to your ass. I rim your puckered hole with my tongue. Oh, God, the sounds that you make as you press back. I dip my tongue into the forbidden. Mmm mmm…again…oh, God, you’re moving on my tongue. Oh, fuck, my thighs are weeping. I fuck your ass with my tongue and pump your cock until I sense you are in a lusting frenzy. I liberally put oil on your ass and all over the dildo and I place it at your eager asshole, teasing you with the tip. You press back.
