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 a place of blood and ties

Discussion in 'Roleplay Execution' started by reverse, Jun 21, 2018.

  1. reverse

    reverse crusher rusher Member

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    Marlon hadn't stood a chance against the red-feathered bird that flitted across his vision. Board games in the park with her friends. She'd laughed like she was being tickled maliciously, like she didn't have any control - like Neda when she was younger, and he'd run his fingers quickly over her ribs, making Ariela became jealous. The oldest son of the Caswell clan was allowed any freedom from their home, and he'd fly far, sometimes, under the guise of finding supplies. It was a thin, worn excuse, but the men wouldn't challenge, and the women couldn't. Marlon had found himself one city over, and liked the well groomed outdoors in the middle of the rising buildings. Teija was from here, and her moods reflected the transient souls and the artists that tried to live like their muses, he supposed. To think the city had engraved into her personality already.

    That day he'd not been undisturbed, enjoying his privacy among strangers. She beamed her light on him while horribly loosing whatever toss she attempted. He'd stayed away from home a few days longer, then, and learned her name and where she liked to play cards online. It was a simple matter of chatting her up after that. He listened well, and presented as lacking in any of her boyfriend's flaws. She'd refused to send pictures at first, and then given him her social medias. Now and then he'd get his own images, if she felt confident. He liked to think her heart was wavering, and that Laurent had simmering competition for her affections.

    It was supposed to be the scratching of an itch, talking to her. But exposure breeds possession, and greed is the default modern sin. He replied when she did, and followed her every documented movement. Handsome boy, up all night learning how she liked to play her digital hand. Sometimes he'd make other accounts, sometimes he was all her opponents in a session. In the private chatrooms he was proud to learn she didn't open up to anyone as she did MlonAce. Soon he was in too deep, deeper than his frustration at father's iron hand and mother's refusal to see him as man. He had taken to imagining Emma's expressions on Teija when he maimed her, hip to hip, for skipping out on chores to drink.

    She was young for her beauty, but too old for his village. That should have been that. Lovers unmade by time of birth. But he was an obsessive, proud man, and she was meant to be with him, belong to him. Lay exhausted in his bed with her cunt sore and her breath salt. It was a little matter, taking her, since her webcam had let him know about her habit of leaving her window open, so the city sounds could chase away her solitude when Laurent didn't spend the night. A limber boy raised among an abundance of women has a light footfall, and her room was on the first floor. He'd stolen her the night before her birthday, and she'd struggled against his hands. Light birds can't fly from the clutches of grown wolves.

    She said his name when he left her tied in the backseat and he looked back at her in the mirror to assure her. He liked to think there was some hesitation on her quivering lips after that, from how pleasing he was on her violet eyes. She pleaded prettily, and had her panic as she was driven from her home to his. It took quite some time, and he made sure to feed her along the way. He spilled her water down her chin, to her breasts on purpose, and he thought she might know. Eventually he came into the town with her, proud despite the wondering looks of his people.

    He carried her easily into the house, and kept her quiet with a rag on her pink tongue, until they were by the enforced door with the latch and the little invincible iron lock. She was tired of struggling after the long ride, but she found new powers then, with the promise of long-stretching privacy.

    "Now you wake up." he joked and shimmied the door open with his shoe so he could carry her bird bones inside. She had a mattress, of course, and bucket. Emma breathed through her nose like she would drown otherwise, knees on the mattress where he placed her. He put his forehead to hers and closed his eyes, drinking up her desperation with his hands on her temples to keep her frantic shakings still. He sighed in contentment and started undoing her ropes. Every time she tried to claw the cloth out of her mouth he slapped her wrists away.

    When she was free - he always made sure he was between her and the door - he finally claimed the gag from her eager lips. "You're going to stay here, Emma, aren't you?" With an admittedly picturesque man who stole you from your home and bed, and looks at you like you belong in his stable, and touches you freely and without question, and has no qualms in holding you down, binding you up, and now might leave you to your worst fear - solitude.
     
  2. TQRiver

    TQRiver Well-Known Member Member

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    It was supposed to be the year that her life started, the year where she became an adult. Instead it turned into the worst year of her life and a birthday she would never forget.

    Emma Carter lived an average city girl life. She grew up with loving parents and a younger sister, still at the ripe young age of fifteen. She was the first person in her family to be accepted into university, her parents were proud and her sister a little jealous at all the attention she got. She had a boyfriend of two years from highschool that she had only begun having sexual intercourse with. She had made him wait for two years, not wanting to have sex until she had graduated highschool. Her aunt had had her cousin while still in highschool and it ruined her life. Her mother never let her forget. Still, her and her boyfriend were that couple, the couple you hated but also loved because they represented something pure and lovable.

    It was the summer before university would begin, she had quit her highschool job to enjoy the last bouts of freedom and childhood. She spent days playing games in the park with her friends, attended those new board game café’s and saw the latest movies in the theatres. Laurent still had his job, opting to take a victory lap of highschool. It annoyed her, his decision. They were supposed to leave high school behind, to grow up together and begin a new chapter in their lives. Instead he had given in to the easiness of highschool, where he was popular and lacked for nothing. So on the days he worked, she spent them with friends and it was through these daily interactions she met someone new. He was an odd character, one her friends giggled about when they were alone, but he was intriguing. He was different, he didn’t care about highschool and the drama that came with it. He was mature, confident but not cocky like Laurent, he didn’t go on about the sports game the previous night nor did he seem distracted when they were together.

    It didn’t take long for him to gain her trust, to become her friend and confidant. They began exchanging pictures, talked online to all hours of the night and in the short time they knew each other she thought she felt a little spark. That spark and connection that she hadn’t felt with Laurent in the last few months, since he decided to stay behind.

    The night everything changed had been a normal one. She had played several games of online poker on her laptop in her bed while Netflix spoke to her from her tv. She hated silence, hated the feeling of being alone and so there was always some kind of voice or noise in the room. The night grew late and her game came to an end, losing. It wasn’t real money so nothing was really lost save for her pride. She closed the laptop and set it on the end table by her bed. Laurent had to work the next morning so he didn’t stay over. The girl wore a simple grey tank top and stripped girl boxer shorts. She wiggled under the covers and watched out the open window. She could see the tree in the yard rustling its leaves as a breeze blew by. The sound of a car horn in the distance made her smile and close her eyes. The city buzz lulled her to sleep. It was her birthday tomorrow, but there wouldn’t be cake or presents or even loved ones.

    Emma woke with a start, a hand around her mouth and another firmly gripping her body, pulling her from her bed. She struggled, how she struggled, though she couldn’t understand what was happening. Was it a dream? The feeling of his warm skin against hers couldn’t be imaginary. She was forced from her window, the image of her dark bedroom laying disheveled and empty etching into her mind. It was her home and she was violated in it. It was only in the car that she saw the person who was doing this. Sweet Marlon, her sweet Marlon. He took her from her bed, the late nights of their talks and games flashed before her eyes. The entire time, had this been his goal? Betrayal crashed around her as she struggled in the backseat, screaming and wriggling like a worm held between pincers.

    For awhile she fought but the girl grew tired, hopelessness settling into her chest like a rock. She laid down on the back seat, stretched across it as she stared up at the roof, watching the lights of the cars passing them dance off of it. Emma didn’t eat when he first began offering food but the hunger set it and she soon began playing a different tune. The thirst, she grew angry at him when he spilled water down her chest, making her tank top cling to her breasts like a skin layer of skin. It was cold, sitting in the car in a damp shirt only to produce goosebumps down her pale arms.

    When they got to their destination she knew and sat up, feeling the car slowing down and the cement road take on the grumbles of gravel. She looked out the window at the almost quaint village that sprawled before her. Emma fought him as he tried to take her out of the car finding safety in the moving vehicle rather than some unknown town she had the dreaded feeling she would never be leaving. He had forced a rag into her mouth that tasted of sweat and picked her up like she weighed nothing, her body squirming in his grasp. The eyes that followed them were left undisturbed, her attention focused on the man that wrapped his arms around her.

    She had seen this episode before, seen the movie. She knew what the farm house meant, knew what the enforced door meant. She struggled, boy did she struggle, her body screamed at him, her muffled terror doing nothing to convince him to let her go. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, feeding her energy and desire to escape, to not let him take her into that cellar. Her nostrils flared as she struggled to breath through the gag, the cloth soaking through with saliva. The cool air hit her skin like a crashing wave as he descended down the steps, the darkness swallowing her as she watched the dim sunlight fade.

    He placed her down on the mattress and grabbed her face, placing his warm forehead against her sweaty one. Strands of red hair clung to her forehead and neck, beads of sweat prickled at her skin. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest, threatening to push through her ribcage and fall to the floor between them. His calmness unnerved her, made her feel the vibrations of fear rippling through her body even more. She didn’t understand how he could be so calm.

    As soon as a bit of slack in the rope occurred her body began struggling again, wanting free of her bound and to remove the salty rag from her mouth. Each time was met with a slap of her hand and she simply looked at him, unsure what to make of his actions. He was treating her like she was a child after a cookie from the cookie jar, not a kidnapped woman with a rag in her mouth. When the ga was finally removed she gasped for breath as if she hadn’t been breathing the entire time. Her hand went to her chest, feeling the quickened heart beat as it pumped adrenaline and blood through her body. She felt like she could run a marathon, to escape and run the entire way home. At the sound of his voice she looked up at him, her body still sitting on the mattress. Emma sprang up and charged, attempting to run past him towards the door. No fucking way she was staying obediently in that cellar, alone and scared. As she ran at him she screamed, screamed at the top of her lungs in the hopes someone would hear her cry for help. She had seen people, they had seen her. They had to come help her.
     
  3. reverse

    reverse crusher rusher Member

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    Her erratic reached out for his stoic like the thread tentacles of jellies, trying to make sense and plead to his better nature. The nature that had coaxed her to share with him, and trust him. It was a bit cruel, perhaps, that there was nothing for her nerves to hold on to. Marlon was completely and heart-searingly inlove with the Carter daughter, but her mood's value was not measure by its strains now. He'd not planned this for so long to give in to a couple of tears. How would she learn he was her new star if she didn't see the universe dark and cold, first? After a while his consistent forbidding of her hands to her own mouth and the rag parting her jaws elicited the most adorable befuddlement on her beauty. Endearing child, to be a woman tomorrow.

    There is always a heap of eroticism billowing out when a girl gasps, and he felt it deeper when it was from his doing. He kissed the soaked cloth before discarding it somewhere to the side. To make herself sweeter, she touched her sternum, as though to remind him there was a heart there for him to steal. Marlon had not forgotten. There was a moment between them that didn't adhere to time. She would be allowed the attempt at escape. Emma flickered upright, stronger legs than she had weight on her body, and barreled toward him, hoping to get by. There were very few lines for her to follow if she wanted to avoid him and find the door.

    Marlon stood and inhaled when she filled the room with her scream. Passionate girl. An arm the length of forever shot out to hook around her stomach and halt her in her freedom scramble. He smiled quietly to himself and pulled the livid girl back. The toss back onto the mattress was stern, and so was his landing on it. "Listen, Emma. You're not being very reasonable. I'm just trying to acclimate you." His hand moved to her mouth and flicked her upper lip smartly, a trick that would usually get Ariela's attention and gratitude. It should atleast communicate to the new girl that she should be quiet for this lesson. He gathered her ankles after that, and lifted them as though he was going to change her, toes to the ceiling.

    Marlon started to pull her boxers up, relieving her legs from the stripes. he was ravenous to see the split mound of her sex between her thighs. He'd not worked fast enough to have her send such pictures when she still thought she was with Laurent. And when her bottom was bare, Marlon wrapped those legs around his hips, her apex meeting his clothed one. Hand on the throat, to keep her head where it was, in the bonfire of her exclusive hair. Omnious quiet from the giant that had dragged her from her little post-highshool paradise. "You don't want to leave me, Emma." he corrected and put his hand under her top, still damp from her drinking water. Her struggle was going to fuel his want for her, but it was more important that she learn her lesson quickly than he give them both satisfaction. Fucking the daylight out of her now, and making her cum her anxiety away would just confuse her heart. He still helped himself to one of her breasts firmly, but not to bruise.

    "You're going to like it here. You don't ever have to be alone if you're with me." he assured her and quieted her if she was still using her voice to drown the room in her useless screams. He held her breath for her, and felt her heart try to rush by underneath. A stone man, holding on like he'd been built around her. She would calm down eventually, and he could wait. Adrenaline burns oxygen faster, and soon her blood would be wanting. When her jaws were lax he stuck two fingers in her mouth, feeding her the taste of her own breast, as he petted her tongue just before he let go of her throat to give her air back. She would gasp around his fingers as he pulled them out.

    "Now," he asked as he looked down at her, without any real physical hold on her body. "Are you going to be good?"
     
  4. TQRiver

    TQRiver Well-Known Member Member

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    The girl watched as he kissed the saliva soaked rag that had been her bane for what felt like days. There was something disturbing about that simple action, like he was somehow taking something from her with the press of his lips. It made her feel shallow inside, hollow and mentally cold. It was like a lover’s gentle kiss to something that had been special to her, but foul and wrong. Her eyes briefly followed the throw of the rag, watching it soundlessly fall to the ground before her eyes snapped back to him, taking her chance of escape.

    The wind was knocked from her lungs as he shot his arm out around her stomach, her body folding over the length ever so slightly as she made impact. Immediately she struggled against his grip as she was pulled back and then tossed on the mattress. Her body bounced on the mattress as she fell back, laying down as he joined her on the soft, dirty surface. When he flicked her lip her head reared back in almost shock, her eyes widening at the odd chiding. “What are you talking about?” She managed to yell out at him before her ankles were taken into his hands. Her legs kicked out, trying to free herself from his grasp, her fingers went to his as she felt his touch against her boxers. Her body squirmed like a worm out of the safety of its dark home. Her lips parted again as she began to scream in protest, her hands working to free his fingers from the few articles of clothing that made her feel safe.

    She felt the cool air prickle at her skin as her buttocks and mound were exposed to the damp basement air. Her body was pulled toward him, her hair creating a ring of fire around her pale face. Her hips reared against his, bumping and thrusting to try and free herself from the iron grip that held her. Only when that hand coiled around her neck did the screams finally come to an end in a stifled gasp of air. Her hands went to his, fingers prying at his firm grip as she struggled for breath. Eyes were wide as she stared up at him, his face forever imprinting in her mind. His fingers gliding under her shirt felt like fire on her skin. She knew what he was doing, knew what was in the near future for her. Every little touch felt like flames licking at her skin. Her skin prickled with sweat from the heat and adrenaline yet she felt cold and afraid. The grip on her breast made her gasp, her neck trying to stretch out of hand.

    The veins in her neck throbbed, her face began going pale as her breath struggled to fill her lungs. Her fingers fought with his hand as her body wriggled under him. She forever stared up at him as if she couldn’t believe what was happening to her, that everything was just a nightmare. The wide eyed doe look becoming morbid as her body began screaming for air. Several seconds ticked by with only the sound of her gasping for air filling the room. Red dots began filling her vision, distorting his face and making her struggle seem sluggish. Seconds continued and her struggle subsided, her limbs feeling heavy as her heart struggled to keep oxygen flowing through her body. Her legs slid down his hips, resting limply around him.

    As her body relaxed she felt his fingers insert themselves into her mouth, tasting the salt from her own sweat and the flavor of his skin as he rubbed his fingers against her soft tongue. The release of his grip was sweet and she gasped for air, the rush of cool air around his fingers tainting it before it went into her lungs. Emma coughed when he removed his fingers, the dots fading from existence. She could still taste him on her tongue, feel the lingering pressure of his fingers rubbing the muscle. Her body was loose, as if the fight had left her when the air did. Her chest rose and fell heavily as she gathered as much air as possible through her parted lips. One hand went to her neck, fingers tenderly touching the bruise that was already beginning to brand her. Her throat hurt so she didn’t speak. She wasn’t even sure if she could speak at that moment, but her head did nod. Emma would be good, good enough to not get herself killed. Good enough that she could escape.
     
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  5. reverse

    reverse crusher rusher Member

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    It was a good sign of a healthy woman, the way she went for the exit. And he felt her well against his arm when it stopped her dead. It would have been strange if she didn't try to flee, initially. Adorable surprise, when he flicked her. What did she expect? A jab? She was his. He wouldn't be such a brute on their first night together. His beautiful Emma wouldn't need to be pummeled, would she? She was a good girl. Like a game, she targeted the fingers that had lifted her legs, a cat, and exactly like a game, he was enjoying himself. It was as if she thought the article he freed her from was her last chance at escape. Her last chance was spent when he noticed her in the sunlight, that day.

    The Krause monster was red-eyed when he uncovered her privacies. He'd fallen inlove with her laughter, but he'd liked watching her too. It was quite a reward to get this view. She didn't mourn her modesty long, bucking against him like she was trying to entice him further. He laughed darkly at that, and let her have her little dance against him. Was she terrified when she felt her struggle awaken a hill for her to rub against? The intake of air, one of her last in a while, when he took her tit, was beautiful. It was unfortunate for the beautiful girl that she was so stunning in her distress. Marlon already knew she would be.

    It was just a matter of savoring her after that. Her valiant fight was fading, her kicking legs and bared sex courting his through his jeans, like she really did want to make this their wedding night. Fire hooded bride. But what shot extra blood into the density he was nurturing for her, against her, was her expression. In response he had some love in his eyes, even though his expression was mostly stern still. She was misbehaving, no matter how expected, and he couldn't encourage that if she was to grow into a good member of their family. He wouldn't humor her by responding already. Perhaps that's where he'd gone wrong with Teija.

    As she treated him to her beautiful decline, her sensual legs giving their all in ever softer motions, like treading water around him and then sinking, it was hard not to have at her right there. She was gorgeous with death creeping into her lungs. How was he supposed to resist seeing this to her end? It might have been worth it too, all this patience, if he could just sit here and squeeze her until she and her surprise froze in a tribute to his decision and strength forever. So she got a kind pet on her tongue, so he could celebrate the return of oxygen with her. She didn't have the sense to bite him when his other set of fingers mourned their departure from her lithe neck.

    Vivid in her new chance at life, Emma drank at air beneath him, her legs still where he'd put them, hugging him, while she erupted in pulls of air and coughs. Grateful lips are the best. Already, she was understanding. He smiled his pedigree face and stroked her cheek with the moist from her own pink tongue. A dapper captor, with enamel cheekbones, gaunt and pretty, and poisonous, full lips. "There's my Emma." he praised, and nodded in tune with her. He lifted her again, to sit, she was already in his lap, and held her head to his. His hand cupped her bare ass, and the fingers crawled closer to her now exposed mound, simply resting there, tips licking at her entrance as he looked into her eyes. He was still excited, and she would be able to tell.

    "We're going to be together, Emma." he said. "I'm not going to ignore you like Laurent." A promise. She would have his attention. "But you have to be a good woman. My woman." He would be lying if he tried to sell their commune as leisurely for the wives. The other hand let go of her head and ran a thumb over her lower lip. "I want you to try hard for me, okay? It'll make you happy and fulfilled. It's what you're born for." And that too, was the belief of their commune. He was sure she'd protest, even if he hoped she wouldn't. "Now, I'm going to leave you to think about all this. Don't put your panties back on."

    She had already confessed her greatest fear to him. Loneliness. She'd have no control down here. She couldn't open her window or turn up her music. She could call for him but he'd only come when he chose. This room had been made for when the new girls wouldn't stop screaming. The house had eaten her calls so far, never reaching out the front door, but once he closed this cellar room, there'd be quiet even on the first floor. She'd be here alone with her demons, begging him to come back. Emma seemed particularly susceptible to this kind of treatment. It seemed Emma was going to be compliant, choking will do that, be needed to cement his place over her early. She had such potential, and the commune needed to understand his value.

    "Would you like to kiss me, goodnight?" he offered as his hands started to leave her, and gently scoot her back - a gentle but final-feeling sign that she was indeed going to be locked up by herself. He'd like for her to try affection to keep him, but he didn't know if she was cunning enough for that. Either way, it was bound to upset her.
     
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  6. TQRiver

    TQRiver Well-Known Member Member

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    The hill that formed from her buckling protests was gone unnoticed, the frantic thoughts that buzzed in her mind moving too quickly for her to notice something so minor. His hands on her body were the focus of her attention, how his skin felt against hers, the strength of his fingers around her neck as he squeezed her tender throat. All the while he strangled that delicate throat, she watched his eyes. Those cold, dark eyes that seemed to penetrate her soul and make her feel naked. The softness and kindness she had once seen them had vanished, or perhaps that was simply her opinion of him now. He had stripped away her high opinion of him and desire to be his companion the moment he snuck into her bedroom and like her boxers she was left with nothing.

    As those wet fingers pressed lightly against her cheek she jerked her head away, silently forbidding his touch. Still, he had managed to touch those wet digits to the warmth of her reddened cheek, the saliva maintaining its grip on her skin even when she jerked from his grasp. At his words she stiffened, her thighs readying around him as if she was about to begin fighting once more, the muscles, albeit not at all those of an athlete tensed. His Emma, she was not his Emma. She was Laurent’s, if she had to choose, though preferred to be considered no one’s. She wasn’t property, something to claim, although he seemed to have a different idea. He had taken her from her bed, dragged her across God only knows where and clung to her like she was a prized toy.

    Emma winced as if his touch hurt her when he lifted her to sit in his lap, her legs around his hips and her groin bare for all. Her neck resisted the pull as his hands brought her head to his, her forehead pressing against his own. She could feel his body heat, smell his breath and feel the warm air run over her face as he breathed. The intimacy the position brought was uncomfortable, awkward. She felt sweat dripping down the small of her back, her own breath hitching in her throat as she watched him, his eyes taking up her entire vision. It was wrong, all wrong. She was all too aware of those prying fingers slithering down to her sacred spot, the tips resting just close enough to make her heart beat faster. One slip, one movement from either of them would allow his finger to graze against her entrance, to invade her.

    Nostrils flared as he mentioned being together and how Laurent had ignored her. That was told in confidence, to her friend. Not this monster who looked like him. The fact he brought something up in which he was privy to because of their friendship only made the betrayal worse. It stabbed at her wounded heart, remembering the hours they had spent talking, the long nights that turned into early mornings as she clicked away on her keyboard, eagerly waiting his response. She hadn’t told him, he had no right to use that information, to make like they were friends still. The urge to spit in his face had saliva gathering in her mouth. The release of her head felt like he had taken a large pressure from her shoulders. Her head turned away as he attempted to run his thumb across her lips, preventing the loving touch from making contact.

    His words had her jaw tensing, though her lips remained still. She stared at the wall until he spoke of her boxers. She looked at him again, careful not to move her hips in fear of those fingers that prodded near her entrance. “Okay.” She lied. Her voice was hoarse from his rough treatment but it was the only word she spoke to him now. The only thing she allowed past her lips. Compliance. She watched enough Criminal Minds and crime shows to know it was the easiest way to get to a psychopath. In some way, he had done her a favor, choking her. He had cleared her mind, forced the instinct driven adrenaline from her body and making her think. Emma had a good indication he would take her boxers if she tried to protest, to put up a fight. If she went along with his sick game, as long as he didn’t hurt her, she might be able to get through it. To win a game one had to bluff. She was a good liar, a good bluffer. She knew games and she forced herself to think of this as a new level. It was the only thing to keep her sane in that moment. If she lied about the boxers there was a chance he wouldn’t take them. But was that really the most concerning thing at the moment? It was the little things in life.

    With the threat of his department, she saw it as a silver lining. She didn’t want him to stay, she wanted him gone from her sight, her touch and her mind. The thought of eerie silence and depressing loneliness in the dark cellar didn’t cross her mind, not yet. All she wanted was to be rid of this bastard and he was giving her just that. The hatred and disgust she felt for the betrayer was enough to forget the fear of loneliness, to forget what came after he left her. Emma was eager to escape his lap when he began scooting her from him. She slid back on the mattress, away from the monster that asked for a kiss. Emma shook her head at his request, her eyes glancing at the stairs that led to freedom, though she made no movement to run. She was a fast learner.
     
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  7. reverse

    reverse crusher rusher Member

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    After the intimacy of her narrow throat in his hand and her terrified blues truly seeing his darkness for the first time, he was almost disappointed to when she turned away from his touch. It was to be expected, he supposed - even perfect Emma would require some adjustment. Wouldn't it be a fairy tale, though, if she saw her place at once? It was laughable, but it was also a very attractive thought. More obstinate now, but at least she wasn't livid. Emma who'd made a fortune in imaginary chips on imaginary games knew to play along.

    Despite the hardness of her ready muscles, she let him handle her. Her skin was warmed from her struggle, and he could feel the heat and condensation on it where his hand was, below. He'd rather try her right away, sample his bride now, but that would be a disservice to both of them. She would be misserable and exhausted, which would take her through the night without the full weight of lonliness and despair, and he would give her the chance to pull a ruse over his eyes. No. He wouldn't be a very good husband if he indulged without giving her the chance to learn. At least he could savor her tautly drawn self when tensed at his fingers so close to her virtue.

    At this null distance she looked hurt, and that was touching - a proof, if he needed one, that he'd been effective in opening up her heart before tonight. The room filled with eventualities, and sliding-door instances where he might have lived somewhere else, and her conventional choice of romance might have had a chance, after he'd stolen her from Laurent and his lack of apprechiation. Marlon let her go despite the beautiful testament on her features. She didn't allow him to reach her lip, and he allowed her that choice. He'd soothe her soon enough.

    The attitude that flared in her with her eyes averted burnt something dark in him. This was the kind of rebellion he'd have to switch out of Teija sometimes. This was exactly the kind of thing she should not indulge in. He had to let these fires over his nerves run their course. It would be out of place to bend her over his lap now. Still, his fingers tugged a little to the side, spreading her intimate folds just a little, so she'd know there was a reaction to her behavior. He felt new belief in her wash that anger away when she gave her verbal agreement. It was a pretty image, the one of her here alone, and still not wearing her underwear. That kind of obedience is a badge.

    She was in a hurry off him, and his hand felt cold without her. This night couldn't have ended in any other way. No kiss for you, Marlon. He smiled like a disappointed father at the foot of his sulking daughter's bed. Too often that likeness was accurate. He'd have to lead her for quite some time yet. Some amusement lived in his eyes then, when she looked beyond him at the corridor. She didn't require another catch, and stayed where she was on the mattress because his Emma was smart. Worth all his efforts to train her.

    "Very well." he said and then touched the collar of his shirt. Denim, because it was easier to wear around the commune, but black, because he had flare, even when his environment didn't. The way he kept his eyes on her, and the suggestion of her being taken here, would she think the worst? Would he have pretended at being fair only to change his mind and pry her legs apart and have at her, after all? He'd not shown his worth as her owner yet, she was allowed to have those doubts. Marlon moved closer on his knees as the denim parted over his chest and stomach, revealing svelte muscles and a broad frame in a narrow design. He had been told by other's wives that he was beautiful. He believed he was handsome enough to turn someone unwilling into a moaning mess. He was assured he fucked better than any male in their collection. But that wasn't for tonight.

    Whethere she dreamed nightmares on what this all suggested, he pulled his shirt off completely, and rumpled it in his hands as the sinew drew hard on his arms. Then he exstended the article to her. "Take it." he ordered. His scent, like she really was an animal that he was coming to own. In the colder hours, when he'd pull the temperature down in the room, even if she did wear her boxers, this would be her only refuge against the chill. Humans need a little more finery, but they are animals, too. If she did not relieve him from the shirt, he'd simply move forward, like a storm from the sea, and loom over her and repeat his neigh suggestion. It would be the last chance the beautiful girl and woman-to-be had before his hand would be around her taunting throat again. And Emma would be too smart to refuse to take it, then.

    "Goodnight." he'd say, but it would be all the same in this room without stars or moons. A last look of his bare chested designs before he stood and left her, locking the door thoroughly. He left her with all her ghosts and all of the uncertainty of her situation. And the lamp above, protected by bars. He did not plan to check on her for at least half a day's worth of hours, but would listen to her complains if he felt like it. If she said his name.

    He'd find Teija in whatever room she chose to lounge in. Full of dominant dreams and without a shirt, he might be rousing, even to the usually empty-hearted addict. He'd never thought Teija lacked in glory, the way she looked. It was fast becoming his tastes, actually, the ones who wore their damage in their eyes and in their ragged. When he did come across her in his house, he'd roll his eyes and wave her over, unbuttoning the first thing on his jeans, and expecting her to come and help. "I see you've given fuck-shit about cleaning again." he muttered, not really caring, shadows under his eyes and an intent to have her without much ado. "You want some pills?" he asked, to give incentive to his useless pretty. Like a father indeed, with the lock to the candy cabinet. He half-wished she wouldn't be amicable about listening. There was a lot of violence in him today, and Ariela was most likely sleeping close to Neda. Teija and her working nerves would have to do.
     
  8. TQRiver

    TQRiver Well-Known Member Member

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    Eyebrows wrinkled together slightly as she felt his fingers tug against her entrance, making her folds spread just enough to be noticeable. He was teasing her, playing with her body and they both knew she wouldn’t be able to stop him. She wasn’t strong compared to women, let alone the muscled monster that sat before her. Of course, she wouldn’t let him get away with anything easily, a fight would be given and she would at least try to take a piece of him with her. If she were to go down, he would go with her.

    Eyes flicked back to him, noting the amusement that flooded his gase as he watched her. The fact he was enjoying this, taking thrill in her discomfort and capture only proved to make the situation worse. It wasn’t like he felt remorseful for what he had done with her, that he had gone too far and didn’t know how to get out of it. He was taking pleasure in it, he wanted to hurt her, wanted her to stay in that cellar and be his toy when he got bored with whoever lived above. Whether that was his mother or not, she couldn’t say, though if Criminal Minds taught her anything, it was most likely his mother. His type of problems always stemmed from mommy issues. His touch to his collar drew her eyes to his neck, taking in the fair skin beneath it. Her shoulder shifted uncomfortably, feeling his gaze lingering over her half naked body. Her knees pressed together, hiding her virtue without drawing attention to it.

    As he leaned closer she leaned away, keeping a healthy distance between their two faces. She watched him pull his shirt off to reveal a rather attractive body. It wasn’t like his impeccably good looks had been lost on her and maybe before she saw him in a different light, one that she might have thought about naked, but that had changed the moment he stole her from her bed. He wasn’t a fantasy anymore, a mystery she may have wanted to solve if she had been available, he was her nightmare. The monster under her bed and she had no desire to solve him anymore. When the shirt was held out to her the tip of her tongue licked at her lips, eyes glancing from the shirt to his face when he spoke. Nostrils flared in irritation from his command, not liking the tone but knowing better to comment on trivial things.

    He moved forward, looming over her and making her almost lay down, her hand pressing into the mattress to hold up her aching back. Her free hand snatched the article from him, not wanting him any closer to her than he had to be. She didn’t know why he had given it to her, though part of her presumed he wanted to show off his body. Asshole, cocky fucking asshole. Like she would swoon from the view of his chest and muscles. Silently she watched him leave, shirt still in hand. She watched his feet disappear up the stairs and the creaking door open and then close, only to finalize her situation with a heavy click of a lock. Still, that didn’t stop her from running up the stairs to try the door herself. The girl went back down the stairs, each creaking step filling the silent room. She stood at the base of the stairs, looking at her prison with his shirt still in hand. It was then she began to cry and threw the shirt across the room.

    -----

    Teija had slept the night and morning away. She hadn’t even noticed that her husband had been gone for several days. He had given her treats to occupy her mind while he was gone and so time was nothing more than a blur. The house was little more than a slobby mess, the only house in the commune that was allowed to get grubby and disorganized. All the women were trained from their very first night that they kept the house clean, that they maintained order in the house and made things perfect for their master and husband. Teija never cared. It was just a house to her, one that served for comfort and leisure. She didn’t cook, clean and sometimes even had to be encouraged to bathe herself. They had no children, the alcohol and drugs she constantly bathed her liver and organs in made it hard for anything to survive more than a few months. Nameless children lay in their memories, no more emotionally attaching than a bad grape amongst the pure colorful ones.

    Teija had taken advantage of the treats he had left her, which was evident in their living room. Bottles laid scattered across their coffee table, a few on the floor toppled over and what looked like a stain on the rug from a turned over rum bottle. The dark haired girl laid across the couch, one leg extended over the headrest, her bare foot dangling in the air. One arm was lolled above her head, hand over the armrest and the other crossed over her eyes, blocking that nagging sunlight that shone through the crack in the drawn curtains. The room smelled or booze and body odor though there was no question where the latter smell came from. She was still clad in the clothes he left her in several days ago, a black tank top that clung to her braless breasts, nipples poking into the fabric. Loose fitting sweat pants that looked too big to belong to her hung off her hips, the pants familiar from his closet. The only clean article of clothing was her panties, it was the one thing she usually changed, disliking the smell of old sweat clad panties. Her hair was greasy from going unbathed though it was pulled back into a bun atop of her head.

    Hearing the voice of her husband she lifted her arm and lolled her head to the side. It pounded like someone had thrown it against the wall, the several day drunken stupor now coming to an end. She greeted him with a grunt, eyes traveling along his shirtless body. “I see you lost a shirt.” The girl sat up with a grunt, using her fingers to pull her body up into a sitting position as if it was the hardest task in the world. Her feet fell silently to the floor with her legs spreading, elbows resting on her knees. “My head is killing me.” Her head fell forward into the clinging grasp of her fingers that pried through her greasy hair. Teija dropped her hands from her head and looked at him, back hunched over as her weight rested into her knees and elbows. She looked at him with heavy eyes and a drained expression, watching his buttons pluck open from his fingers. “Ya.” Teija stood up and went over to him, her eyes watching him almost like a predator, if that predator was hung over. Dark make up had stained her eyes, giving a more raccoon look. She wandered over, none to quickly or eagerly. Her arms draped over his shoulders, her hips pressing lightly to his pelvis as she used his own body weight to hold hers steady. “Everything is gone.” She murmured, her breath that of alcohol and lack of dental brushing since he had been gone.

    The amount of alcohol that had been emptied in that room had been more than he had given her. He had left her a few bottles, not the many that laid empty or spilled on the floor. Teija had found his stash, where he hid the treats from her. She had more than enough time to look for it and in the drunken desire for more she had found it. The house was turned over, if he had a chance to look through their rooms. The box that he had hidden away was open beside the couch, half hidden under it as if she attempted to hide it and forgot half way through. The lock was broken open and if he took a closer look at the room he would notice two pieces of it on the floor. She had pried that fucker open and won her prize. One side of her lips tugged into a cocky grin, as if she had outsmarted him and won. “I will suck your cock though, because everything is gone.” No one would sell alcohol or any other kind of treat she desired to a woman, not in their commune and she wasn’t allowed to leave to the cities like he was. He was her dealer, her treat bearer and husband. She would provide sexual gratification in return for treats.
     
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  9. reverse

    reverse crusher rusher Member

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    With Emma's expression and her bare legs and the humming heat from her little pink truths still on his fingertips Marlon went about a less encouraging environment. His home was in an unusual state of uproar, which was always neglect. The resident house elf had gone for merriment instead of duty, and the build-up was clear through any door he peered. Despite stalking through the corridors with vast shoulders and healthy bones, Marlon did not feel very physically inspired. That was, until he found her, and felt her scent greet him to celebrate.

    He had ground his teeth and touched his temple with the ball of his palm, rolling it onto his eye. To Emma it would have been a signal to flee into a corner, but Marlon knew better than to expect household behavior from his wife. His swing in mood did energize him though. If Teija noticed the thunderclaps muffled in his chest she made no sign of it. He laughed to the side, a cloud of spittle marking his frustration with the disgusting and beautiful failure she'd let herself become, strewn on the now abused furniture. He frowned at the remains of her bounty. She was as she had been when he'd gone to get her replacement, only layered in more of herself.

    It was painful just to see her sit up. Marlon breathed through his nose and looked around, adapting some of her life-fatigue as a way of coping with her uselessness. It was the face he wore when they were alone, anyway. His broken woman. She'd not grown up like this, but she'd never been a stellar girl's girl, either. "It's killing me too, beautiful." he answered about her headache. He still wrapped his arm around her waist to keep her upright. This wasn't the first time he'd been her dancing partner in standing. He wondered if she really did wear her dirt well, her smudged paint, or if he'd just gotten used to her, and that she simply looked like home. Marlon didn't lean away from the billowing proof of how she'd lived in his absence.

    "I can see." he added when she laid out her woe about having spent what had been in the chest. Crafty raccoon, too. Octopi can get into bottles and were celebrated as intelligent. His fingers brushed her forehead as he looked her over, like a master searching his pet for ticks. He'd not often admit to her intelligence. His lips lifted to mirror her victorious grimace. "Oh you will?" he prodded as he moved against her. Suck him. She had no real say in where they went, not when she was sober, not when she was hungover. "Will you get pretty for me first?" he asked, voice even, unengaged.

    The sunlight burnt the room and got stuck on specks on the way. Teija loved the dust, and it was a consensual affair. His long legs took a stride which bumped the back of hers against the couch that had surely housed her for a disproportionate amount of time compared to what was common in the other commune house. This was an unusual house, after all. He hadn't meant for her to shower or change her clothes. He'd been lugging a princess around and watched her learn her place so quickly - he needed release. A roll of his finger signaled she should drop her top, at least, as he sat down on the cushions that smelt like all stages of her. He was somewhat looking forward to her inventive mouth, while she was wearing his pants.

    He sighed. For the excitement of whisking Emma away, it had been without physical reciprocation. He had half a mind to go down there and see what else her poker mentality would let her agree to. Marlon looked his wife in tatters up and down. Teija wasn't bad. "But if you're not good, I won't give you anything." If you're not a good girl, there won't be any presents. A finger ran over his eyebrow as he waited. He thought he was just going to take the gratification and go to bed, but there were volatile energies in his shoulders and limbs. When she got him out of his jeans he'd have his cheek to his knuckles, looking down on her. "Beat yourself in the face with it. And thank me."
     
  10. TQRiver

    TQRiver Well-Known Member Member

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    His arm around her felt secure, safe, like home. No matter how many tiems he hit her, or beat her, she would always love him. Love the things he gave her and love to hurt him. He physically made her ache but she always got her revenge. The neighbors were keen to bed someone who wasn’t theirs. It was an odd thing, having multiple women at their disposable but they still desired someone who they couldn’t have. Maybe it was some male primal instinct, to take a woman that didn’t belong to him. To spread his seed as far and wide as he could. Hell, she just enjoyed it because it was Marlon’s punishment. He didn’t know about it, and she would never reveal her secrets but it was the thought that counted. Her secrets gave her control and power she lacked in their relationship.

    Her eyes closed as he brushed his finger over her forehead, the familiar touch making her miss him. She opened her eyes when he spoke, dark orbs searching his. He was calm, too calm. He should be yelling or hurting, not gingerly touching her and enlisting in playful banter. Teija nodded her chin slowly, warily watching him as if he could attack at any moment. She felt his body press against hers, releasing a smile from her lips. “Do you deserve it?” She asked with a coolness in her voice that suggested she was trying to maintain some control. The little slack on the reigns from her destruction of the treat chest and no punishment had given her a desire for more. There was never enough, she was never satisfied and often pushed too far.

    When he bumped her legs she fell back onto the couch, the cushion making her body bounce ever so slightly. She slunk to the floor onto her knees, watching him take his place on his grungy throne. At his request she pulled her shirt over her head, her decent sized breasts bouncing from her shirt as the material released them. The dark areola sat on handful sized breasts. A line of old sweat ran down her cleavage where her breasts had been kept together while she laid in her own filth. Her stomach was flat and would have been perfect if it wasn’t for the numerous small scars and a few fresh bruises that licked at her ribcage from his goodbye present. The tank top was tossed on the floor before she shimmied on her knees to between his legs. Her palms ran up his thighs, feeling the muscle that ran the length of them. Her face leaned down with her nose gliding up along his inner thigh to his crotch, taking in his scent like a primal dog would her mate.

    Teija looked up at him from her kneeled position, fingers working on his remaining buttons as he spoke. “You doubt me?” She mused, a coyish grin electing her lips. Her fingers coaxed his shaft from his pants, his smell filling her nostrils and making them flare. Her nose glided along it with her fingers stroking the other side, silently worshipping his tool of pleasure. Eyes flickered up to him at his command and her eyebrows rose. “That’s no way to treat it.” She almost purred out, her warm breath tumbling over his member. Teija didn’t listen to what he wanted, ignoring his desire to see her being beaten with his tool. Instead, her tongue snaked out from her mouth and ran up the length of him, starting at the base and up to the head before her lips descended on him. She closed her eyes, savoring the taste as if it was an expensive steak. She let out a purr of enjoyment, the vibrations of her throat lightly vibrating his shaft as her lips drew down, taking him further into her mouth. Fingers gripped the base of his shaft and began to stroke him. Her head rose again, tongue following and coating his member in her saliva. As she came up she sucked on the head for a moment before releasing him with a wet popping sound, letting a string of saliva pearl between her lips and the tip of his shaft. Teija looked up at him, disobedience and fight in her eyes. She knew what she was doing, disobeying him but doing so by giving him pleasure. She silently taunted, tested him in what he would let her get away with. Teija was his but by no ways a broken soul, at least not in the ways he wanted.
     
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  11. reverse

    reverse crusher rusher Member

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    The way she took to his body was one of the only real affirmations he'd ever get from her. There was a draw between them, something starcrossed. There were so many ways his wife was a beast, but this part of her was at least charming, somewhere in the animal she'd become. He didn't kid himself when she reveled in the touch from his hand. Caresses have value to animals, too. His eyes narrowed as he watched her move. He was attached to her, as any owner is his pet, but he knew what he could trust and what he should be weary of.

    He smiled lazily when she questioned his value on the matter. "Aren't I always?" Like a good, agreeable husband. Marlon was taking his time with this game, the tension pooling between them while she followed the trails toward her chemical reward. Her leash. His quaint, stepford smile drew shadows like fangs under his eyes, that had been open for quite some time, acquiring a new woman all night. He still wouldn't relent the act. His wrists were electrified with the impulse to hurt her, out of tradition if nothing else, but he was not an animal. Abuse could be well crafted, too.

    She had the same kind of glory as nature itself. With her tits revealed, he looked her over, weighing what he owned to see if if it was still worth keeping. It was always inherently precarious to see her between his legs. A volatile thing that behaved, sometimes. There was blood to his flesh when she clawed up his jeans. Teija wasn't a bad lover, she was just bad at love. The way she took in his scent hardened the member all the way to its slit. What a whore she was, running her nose over it like that. He'd long since learned to savor her filthy quaint. It held on to the dew of her breath when she denied his request cleverly. Vicious tongues are good when they're not speaking, and his cock was thriving under the slick care. Only Teija could eat a cock like this, like it was the best she'd ever had. Once she'd painted it, and connected with it with a string of her spittle, he held her eyes.

    "I've missed you, wifey." he said to the admittedly pretty face over his swollen cock's head. His shaft still rung from the moans it had been subjected to inside her mouth. He'd rather just get off and be done with it. But Teija had some time to rest and store up her little rebellions, and what kind of husband would he be if he didn't to answer in kind. Her little refusal now, already, had accumulated to something that warranted his attention. He was playing a waiting game with the lovely girl downstairs. Teija was good for exorcising frustrations, at least.

    When he barreled forward, palm to her forehead, it was for laying down when she should have greeted him. He shoved her to the floor and stood, the very image of something primal, cock out and shirt off. The jeans stayed on, somehow. The foreplay of his game was over. She'd gotten to play her coy and hope to overstep without reprimand. It was an easy task to drag her by her hair toward the bathroom. "That chest wasn't for you, darling." he said, monotone, as the threw her into the side of the tub. The ring echoed against the tiles. He didn't even bother to turn on the lights, with the morning coming in, it had enough illumination for what he meant to do.

    He came down with her on the floor, long enough to take her arm, and bend her over the edge of the enamel vat, ass up. He pulled down his pants from her waist and inhaled at the sight of her stained underwear. She was a beautiful mess, wasn't she? When she tried to get up, he'd wrap the tube of the showerhead around her neck to keep her in place. She could have her fit if she wanted, as he rolled her panties down. He'd pull it tighter if she fought too much. He'd pull it all the way to her loss of consciousness if she made him.

    Marlon kneeled behind her, and bent over her, cock pressing up against one of her asscheeks. His face rested against her middle back, like he was in prayer. He still held the hose to keep her where she was as he bit down, sinking teeth deep into her skin. It was a kind of meditation for him, digging for muscle. His free hand shoved two fingers into her cunt, as though to skewer her and keep her in place. He had always suspected Teija didn't shower because it woke you up.
     
  12. TQRiver

    TQRiver Well-Known Member Member

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    Teija snorted in disbelief. He did not always deserve it but she would never voice that opinion. However, that didn’t stop her from physically showing her disagreement. Teija has as much control over her emotions and body language as she did her addiction. She held his gaze, feeling both trapped and loved in those dark orbs of his. They stared at her, looked into her soul and without a signal word he made he feel vulnerable. And yet… They kept her staring, trapped within the gaze as if she couldn’t look away, didn’t want to look away.

    A smile etched at the corner of her lips at his words, desiring the warmth they gave off. It was the small things he said and did, the gentle touches, words of adornment that may have seemed like general statements that one made to a wife or even a dog. They were the little parts of him that made her believe she would wake up the next morning, that he wouldn’t, couldn’t go too far that her eyes would close and never open again. They kept her coming back for more, attached to him even though she hated him.

    Lost in her own mind she didn’t see the smack to her forehead, sending her back onto her ass and tailbone with pain shooting up her spine. Her palms broke some of her fall though they did nothing to aid in it. She was caught off guard, lost in those eyes and the words he spoke. He missed her and she had misbehaved while he was gone. It was only fair, she deserved this. Teija looked up at him, surprise and acceptance both in her eyes. Surprise for she thought he wanted to get off, acceptance for she knew she deserved it. Besides the treatment she knew she was about to receive, she couldn’t help but admire his gorgeous body, his cock hard from her attention stood out as if begging for more of her.

    She felt his fingers entwine within her mound of greasy hair that sat atop her head. He didn’t give her enough time to get to her feet, his hand dragging her on the floor. Screams of pain erupted from her lips, hands clasping around his to try and elevate the stinging sensations as strands broke from her scalp. Her feet scrambled for the ground that eluded her for several feet. Torso twisted and lips screamed before she was able to get ahold of that elusive floor. Below said floor, Emma’s head snapped upward, hearing the faint cries of pain from a woman. She stood, having found her way back to the mattress. With her head turned upwards she went to the stairs, her voice hollering for help. Unworked hands jostled the locked doorknob as she screamed. Her fists began banging on the door, allowing the cries from the other woman to melt into her own.

    Teija slammed against the side of the tub, her ribs jabbing into the side with her body crunching over it. Teija cried out in pain, her hand going to her ribcage that was only just beginning to heal from her last punishment. “You shouldn’t have made it so easy!” She shot back at him, teeth clenched through the pain. The words were barley out of her mouth before she found herself beginning flung over the tub like a ragdoll, her arm clasped in his iron grip. Her free hand went into the bowl of the tub, holding her chest and head up before she pushed upward, wanting to free herself from the humiliating roll as her pants were carelessly pulled down. “Marl-!” She cried, almost angrily as she tried to get up. His name was choked off, finding the cool coil of metal wrapping around her neck and cutting the word off. Her hands went to the metal rope, fingers trying to pry the choker from her neck, only to have it tighten more. Her throat gurgled and she gasped for air, though she made no attempt to get up again.

    She felt him press down against her back and ass, feeling his bare chest against her hot skin. She felt his breath caress her skin and a part of her felt loved. The pain came next. Her lips screamed again as her flesh was caught between his teeth, digging to find that the few muscles she had. Blood prickled into his mouth as his teeth dug through flesh. Her hands began to flail, one holding herself from smashing her face into the other side of the tub, the other trying to pry his head from her back. He was like a leech painfully attached to her body. Her throat gurgled, cutting the scream off as the coil tightened. In the moment it tightened he impaled her, her breath gasping but coming up short and making her mind flutter black for a split second. Her hand slipped in the second she lost consciousness, her chest falling forward with her head lolling down, smacking her forehead off the soap dish that protruded from the wall.

    She was dry, it stung. Her virtue felt like it was on fire, the skin dragged around his fingers and her hips buckled toward the tub, wanting to escape his digits. Her forehead felt warm, her head pounded, a droplet of blood trickled down between her eyes, sliding down the right side of her nose and onto the corner of her lip. She could taste the copper, inhaling the scent and taste as she gasped for air. Her palm slapped against the bowl of the tub, the sound ringing through the bathroom and echoing down into the basement. It was like she was trying to tag out.

    Emma heard the slap that reverberated in her prison. She stopped pounding on the door and looked at the ceiling, her heart beating in her ears. It had only been a few moments since that man left. Someone was in distress up there. How many women did he have? From the looks in his eyes it wasn’t the first time he took a woman. The memory of the cold, almost enticing look he gave her sent shivers down her spine. “Is anyone there!?” She screamed, looking at the ceiling as if the banging was meant to grab her attention. Emma went back down the stairs, hollering once more.
     
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  13. reverse

    reverse crusher rusher Member

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    His wife had good expressions, and he was prouder of what he did because he knew his abuse could never catch up to what she really deserved. She fell gracelessly, and her tits waved at him during her uncomfortable impact. He'd given he a chance, hand't he? She came alive like a bouquet of snakes as he dragged her, but she was wholly inefficient in helping herself. Her struggle kept the cock she'd tasted and sniffed hard.

    As the confirmation of her slam to the enamel faded in the bathroom, his head tilted to the side when he saw her hold her ribs. He remembered putting a knee there, when she was simply mouthing back too much. It had stopped her in her tracks back then too, and she'd sailed to the floor to eat the filthy rug. He couldn't wait to see what kind of home Emma would keep, once she'd been taught the right things. His dark eyes took up some of the sun's fingers, stacking them in concentric springs in his irises as he moved closer to Teija. As though the inside of his head was full of splintered lights for her.

    She pleaded her case like it was his fault, and then tried to protest with half his name said into the tub. She folded well over the edge and he could sense the softness of her neck on how it gave for the metal-clad cylinder he collared her with. It made his member twitch with anticipation. When he bit her, and her blood tasted familiar and welcoming, he couldn't help but pull at the hose. He could sense her heartbeat in his teeth, and the impact of her head in her back.

    He didn't expect her to be anything but full of friction for his fingers, but he still liked it inside her. His insistent stabbing followed when her hips tried to flee. Useless, but it entertained him. It felt like he was going to pull her inside out with his fingertips. With her life around his mouth, he lifted his head to look at his work. Her back had that round wound, and he could see little drops making a constellation in the tub, too. With a turn of the hand controlling her make-shift leash, he could also shift her head so he could see the damage on her forehead.

    "Look at you." he said, and touched his fingers from her cunt to her cut. It was sure to sting, but the gesture was affectionate. He didn't think he'd done that too her. "Well, we cant really show you off outside like that." he offered, and hooked his arm under her, easily lifting her into the tub. With his foot on the pulled down sweatpants, she ended up naked in the bowl. He still held on to the house to bring her head under the faucet over the drain. She was free to look at him now, despite her containment. His smile wasn't acted. He still had hope for her, but he couldn't let up now when she might learn something.

    Teija hated being sober, and few things were more sobering that icy water. Her leash drew harder around her, to further restrict movement, his fist close to the rightmost column of her throat where he'd twisted the hose. "Thanks for welcoming me home, darling." he said as his other hand turned the bulb marked with blue. The water sprayed first before the bulk of the liquid found its purchase in the pipe, and a thick ray of stupefying cold shot down uninterrupted onto her mouth and her nose. He'd fantasized about what Neda might do if this happened to her, given her relationship to depths. He didn't owe the same courtesies to Teija.

    His other hand found her pelvic hill, and pressed to keep her right there, lying in the tub, two fingers hooking into her again, as though to further secure her in the inefficiently draining tub. The water line got taller slowly, since the drain started choking on the hair that had come loose from her tie. It was an intimate moment for husband and wife. While he enjoyed that she was learning the hard way, he didn't do this entirely out of malice. The hulking man looked at the woman he'd married, and he felt strangely warm between his cold hands. He'd missed this a little, being on the road.
     
  14. TQRiver

    TQRiver Well-Known Member Member

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    A wet gurgle sound was produced from her throat as he pulled on the hose, her air getting increasingly hard to find. The pain in her back had her mind rolling and threatening to grow fuzzy around the edges. The release of his teeth had her gasping for air, the pressure that he had kept between his jaws releasing to a stinging sensation that radiated from the clear bite marks that decorated her skin. Her head jerked upward and to the side as he pulled the hose, her neck tethered to it like a ball on a string.

    Wide bulging eyes looked up at him as he spoke, his fingers stinging as they touched the small mark on her forehead. She could feel the warmth from her own body, smell herself on his fingers. Before she even had time to scream she was flipped over into the tub, her legs sliding free from the pants. Goosebumps prickled at her legs from the sudden cool air exposure and the cold enamel on her behind as she flopped none to gracefully in. The sound of dry skin sliding against the tub filled the small bathroom as she tried to adjust herself, her fingers tugging at the metal coil that nestled into her neck. She could feel it tearing at her skin, each individual nook in the metal rope pricking at the soft flesh.

    Teija looked up at the faucet, seeing the brown rusty interior, knowing what was going to rush from its opening. Her eyes flicked towards him, her feet kicking out at the edge of the tub, producing that skin on enamel sound that radiated down into the basement. The faucet urinated on her face, making her cough and splutter with surprise and shock. The cold water prickled her skin, spilling down her neck and breasts. Nipples stood erect as goosebumps prickled her arms. Teija struggled, her body twisting to try and remove her face from the water. One hand shot out towards his face, fingers prying at his features to try and make him stop. The girl gasped as he inserted his fingers again, hooking her like a fish and in turn forcing water down her throat as her lips opened. She took a startled breath and sucked in water through her nose, making her panic with the feeling of drowning. Only a small portion of her hair remained in the bun that flopped near the base of her skull, no longer on the top of her head and most of the long dark locks being sucked down the drain.

    There was a knock on the door, several rhythmic knocks that announced the arrival of his favorite sister. “Marlon!” Came a high pitched, almost child like innocent voice. Neda had heard the man had come home from his neighbor and she had seen the car parked outside of his house, telling her the neighbor was truthful. “Marlon!” The woman came into the house, closing the door behind her and pausing for a moment. The stench that filled her nostrils was almost unbearable. Her home was perfection compared to his house, though with her pregnancy things had gotten a lot harder. One hand pressed lightly to her belly as the little human kicked at her bladder. The heavily pregnant girl waddled into the house, eyebrows furrowing as she ventured into the living room. “Oh Teija…” She felt sad for the girl, her mind being broken and unable to cope. She had hoped Marlon would help her, though she supposed the poor girl was left alone for several days. The evidence of which was laying on the floor.

    The blonde had her hair loose around her shoulders, the wavy curls making her face look more innocent and young than it really was. She wore a long flowing green dress that attempted to hide her belly but only made her look larger. Her feet were clad in simple sandals she could slip on without having to bend over, the simple task seemingly impossible now.

    Below the family home Emma heard someone’s voice calling for Marlon, it was quiet but she could make it out. She ran back up the stairs, hoping this woman would hear her. Her fists pounded on the door, her throat screaming for attention in desperation. Neda heard the banging and the faint screams, her head cocking slightly to the side. The heavily pregnant girl waddled towards the noise, her curiosity and lack of boundaries forcing her through his home towards his secret.
     
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  15. reverse

    reverse crusher rusher Member

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    Teija was a special kind of animal. While he didn't have much hope left that she'd change in any good direction, she could still have a purpose to him. Because she didn't learn in any capacity that helped him, she would always provide him with opportunities to punish her. It was not the give and take he'd chosen, but it wasn't without its benefits, either. Despite her pension for doing wrong, she'd not become apathetic to reprimand. That infused value to her plights, which he dealt out at his own leisure. He'd missed her, missed this in a way. The rattle of saliva and involuntarily contracted cartilage rings in her throat from his make-shift collar was quaint. It was her way of welcoming him home.

    The relief in her breath when his teeth unclasped made him feel good about the pain he could deliver, and because she neglected herself so well, there was no real challenge in gathering her in the tub, sans her dirty panties and his own leisurely pants. Her fingers were as successful at freeing her neck as her expression was at earning her mercy from him. Teija's emotions were beautiful when they were squeezed out of her. The temperature of the liquid did what it does to anyone, and her intakes were glorious. He leaned into her hand when it came to plead and claw, as though she was petting him. It underlined the futility in her struggle, but also showed his appreciation that she'd try. Upon insertion, she started drinking water with her nose and wide lips, like he'd opened her face up from the opposite end.

    He was becoming very enamored with her, and the things she let him have. Instead of dinner on the table, she served this up - her desperation, and the primal responses in her biology to his torture. All the flighty responses blossomed in her wriggling self when she was inhaling too much of the icy cold blanket. As the waterline tucked her in deeper, he set her free from the hose and even his fingers inside her. Teija could have all the breaths she wanted for a few seconds, before he lowered her by her neck again, this time with his fingers alone. Only the best for his wife. He was bent over the tub, and staring at her, her face now submerged as his other hand wrapped around the length she'd worshiped. She couldn't know how long he intended to make her his nordic nymph in the lake, but she would likely experience the juxtaposition of burning lungs and freezing skin.

    Marlon was already feeling the reaching pleasure hold on to those familiar places below his stomach and electrifying his cock when he heard Neda's announcement at the door. His face wrinkled in annoyance and he took his cock-hand to his mouth, crossing his lips with a finger so Teija would know to be quiet when he finally let her go. "If you're good, I'll give you something special." he promised when she broke the surface on her own. The change in situation had already rendered him soft enough to be tucked back into his jeans.

    He jogged out of the bathroom, leaving his pet-wife as sober as she'd been in days, he was sure, only to discover where Neda was going. She was quite the opposite image to Teija, with her idyllic way of dressing and waddling gate. His hands were still cold so he made sure to touch the low of her back when he lead her into a turn, away from the basement, back toward the couch where Teija had knelt. "Neda!" he said and hugged her. The bend of his body was necessary, not only because of their difference in height, but because he'd rather not brush his still showing state against her swollen belly.

    He picked up one of his sweaters - likely a blanket for Teija when she slept wherever she wanted - and pretended to be in the first stages of putting it on, holding it over his tented crotch. "I told you not to come here." he said, warning but with the usual affection he reserved for her. One hand draped the sweater while the other, which had Teija's flavors and the scent of his cock still on it, moved her toward the sitting cushions.

    She was usually so small, and now someone else had mixed himself with her. While she was beautiful like this, her brother honestly hated it. He was reminded of her belonging to someone else every time they talked, these days. He loved her deeply, but had been moved to wonder if she should somehow be taught how wrong it was that she'd be with anyone outside their direct family. Or him specifically. A little adventure like the one he'd given Teija would surely get her attention. He shook that out of his head.

    "How are you? How's the baby?" he asked, still wearing the beads of playing with his wife on his long muscles. He was almost ready to lift the sweater. He tried to hold her attention, and fill the air with their voice, so Emma's pleas couldn't reach Neda. With all the things whisking up inside him metastasizing into a storm-system of sordid wants, he felt somewhat confused over what to feel about Neda here, with her swollen tits and glow. He felt violent, and he wanted to act on it through his brotherly smile.
     
  16. TQRiver

    TQRiver Well-Known Member Member

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    The uncoiling made her gasp, her hands pushing her body up in an attempt to relieve the deepening water from around her ears. Her naked chest rose and fell heavily as she gobbled up the air and only once she was beginning to regain her startled mind did she feel his cool fingers wrap lovingly around her neck. The water came up past her ears, tickling at the insides before her face submerged. A nose full of water fell streamed down her throat as she tried to make that last breath of air but found only water instead. She struggled, bubbles coming out of her nose as her lungs emptied the air they had stored. Her hands went to his wrists, finger nails clawing at his flesh, even nicking at his skin to draw a thin cut. Her body struggled, water coating the walls and floor of bathroom in her fight. His own pants grew stained with the cold liquid she flung out of the tub.

    Teija looked up at him, eyes wide and glossed over by water. Her lungs began to burn as if a fire raged within her body, they cried for air. Everything was silent, it was almost calming. The cold water bit at her skin, keeping her mind sharp. She could see his arm dipping down on the other side of the tub, knowing what he was probably doing to himself. He had the look of lust in his eyes and knew he was getting off on seeing her drown. Her body ceased struggling, calming as red dots prickled at her vision. Her fingers held his wrist but no longer cut him, it was like she was holding his hand to her neck.

    His finger to his lips had her confused on what he wanted, what he was trying to get across but the release on her neck had her flinging up from the water with a long gasp of water. Liquid drippled down her mouth as she drew a hand over her face, wiping the water from her eyes. Black hair clung to her neck and shoulders, the tie barely attached holding on anymore. Still breathing heavy she looked up at him from the tub, the water draining with fervor now that her hair was freed. Teija nodded but didn’t say anything and looked down at her cold naked body. Her body hair stood on end with goosebumps littering her skin. She didn’t watch him leave and instead sat in the tub for several seconds after the door was shut. Her head raged with the lack of alcohol and air, making her feel slightly dizzy as she stood up. Her numbed fingers grabbed the towel off the rack and wrapped it around her bed. Still wet but uncaring she left the bathroom to pad towards their bedroom.

    Neda stopped in her tracks when she heard footsteps coming towards her. She looked up at her brother and smiled, allowing him to turn her from the door. She wrapped her arms around him, her belly keeping his body at a distance but she kissed his cheek all the same. The girl let him lead her to the couch, her body aching to sit and get off her feet. She glanced back at the door, still hearing the pounding coming from the other side. “Who is in there?” She wondered if he had taken one of the boys for their coming of age ceremony and a particularly difficult girl was being allowed to cry it out. She had never been involved in such a ritual, having been born in the commune herself. A part of her was jealous of those girls, of Teija. They had been specifically chosen out of millions of girls. She had not.

    Neda sat down on the couch with a sigh of relief, her feet stretching out before her swollen belly. “Like I was gonna listen to that.” She smiled at him, innocent in her disobedience. Neda looked around the tattered living room with obvious dislike. She was never one to hide her emotions or thoughts. Her gaze came around to him when he spoke. “Oh I’m good.” Her hand gingerly stroked her swollen belly with the love of any soon to be mother. “She is good.” Neda had no idea what gender the baby would be, the commune didn’t have that kind of technology nor were the women allowed to leave for prenatal care but she had a good feeling. She wanted to raise a daughter, to braid her hair and put her in cute little dresses. She would be the perfect mother to a girl. Neda’s eyes followed down his bare chest to his wet pants then back up at his face. “Did I interrupt you with something?” She asked, all innocence in her voice. Her mind wandered back to the door. “And who is down there?” Her free hand gestured towards the door down the hall.

    Teija got to the bedroom and dropped the towel, the streams of light flitering through thin curtains licked at her damp body. The girl went to their closet and looked at the few items that had remained hung, everything else laid about on the floor. A black bra was picked up and hooked around her breasts, keeping them firmly in place. She picked up a plain grey long sleeved shirt from the floor and sniffed it. It smelled fine. She pulled it over her head, the fabric tight around her torso. The neckline went down to her cleavage but nothing indecent. She grabbed a pair of rumpled jeans and pulled them onto her body, forgoing panties. The buttons and zipper were done up after several attempts. The tie from her hair was pulled with a few long strands of black hair sticking out of it. They were plucked from the band before she just dropped the tie on the ground, letting it get lost among her other possessions. From the bedroom she could hear Neda’s squeaky voice, making her teeth clench. Leave it up to her to have the most annoying voice. Teija went back to the bathroom and opened the cabinet, not caring about the water on the floor. She grabbed her black eyeliner and streaked it around her eyes before she ran a brush through her knotted locks. Finally, Teija made herself known and came to the living room. She almost looked normal, save for the wrinkles in her shirt and the obvious haste in putting on her make up.

    “Teija!” Neda waved at the girl and got a smile in return. “Come sit.” The blonde invited, patting beside her. Teija looked at Marlon for a long second before she shook her head. “Nah, going out. I need to pick up some groceries if I’m going to make dinner tonight.” Teija looked at Marlon with a silent gaze that she expected him to feed her with something other than food. “I need money.” She went to Marlon with her hand held out. “Have to make a special dinner to celebrate my husbands return.” Neda beamed and looked at either of them. “What are you going to make.” The sister asked, eyes watching the two. Teija leaned down to Marlon, her hand running through his hair in a loving manner. “His favorite.” Lips pressed lightly to his cheek. Teija couldn’t cook, she had never once cooked him a meal and both husband and wife knew that.
     
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  17. reverse

    reverse crusher rusher Member

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    Marlon adored his sister, of course, and knew to enjoy her beyond the offending belly. Her hugs were always honest, and the heat of her body was a blaring contrast to Neda's, especially since he'd been washing her in the now icy tub water. He didn't answer at first, when she asked who might be calling. It wasn't so unusual. The room was made and reinforced for just that purpose. While Neda had been a good kid, he and Ariela had found themselves behind locked doors on occasion. She forgot about her question by the time he sat her down.

    He smiled in defeat and shrugged whens she insisted on her self-invitation to his home. Admittedly, it was odd not to welcome her here. He picked her foot up into his lap, so he could start massaging it. It was only then that he noticed the cut Teija had left on him. The memory of their game was fresh, and it made him smile. The curls of his lips strained to deepen when she talked about the baby. He wanted to love anything that came from her, but this child was a mistake upon conception. Still, he needed to pretend for her sake. The hand not tending to the sole of her swollen foot reached to brush the infernal round of her stomach. He was also trying to hike her dress up. "A niece, huh?" he mused, playing the part of an excited uncle.

    He laughed smartly at where her eyes went next. The hill hadn't flattened completely. Marlon wasn't embarrassed by this kind of thing, and only ever hid for the sake of propriety. He wouldn't mind if Neda saw him now - his proportions had thrived during the years when it was improper for brother and sister to jump naked into the lake together, anymore. Not that Neda was prone to bathing since the mishap. "I just came home and Teija was happy to see me." It wasn't a lie, not entirely. He always saw his wife's disobedience as a call for his attention, even though he didn't always appreciated it. The boys of the commune were raised to have tremendous egos.

    "Just a new girl." about the ruckus in the basement. He supposed he was grateful for the change in topic. "How's your husband?" he tried, also, squeezing her foot harder, suddenly. Jordan was a sweet man. Marlon had practically raised him. Blond lad with a closed-lipped smile. Not a threat. At least not until he'd asked Father to marry Neda. Marlon was torn on that, since he'd always seen it as a betrayal, but also considered Jordan a better fit for her than anyone else in the commune. He'd liked to think he didn't touch Neda in private, but she'd carried proof of the opposite for seven months now, which had somewhat soured his relationship with the man. Jordan was none the wiser.

    His head turned when Neda announced Teija's return. She had put some effort in, he could tell. He had come to like the way she dressed - it was reminicent of the city she wasn't ever allowed to see - even if he'd rather have her in more traditional clothing. Still, she'd made an effort and he wanted to encourage that. She earned a crooked smile for it. They shared what they'd done in the bathroom between their eyes. She knew to be quiet about it. Her lie made him warm with sentiment. It pleased him when she helped with their facade. He liked it even more when his wife held out his hand for him, it of course gave him more power over her.

    Instead of leaving money in it, he pulled her down to sit by him. His favorite was mother's pot roast, but there was no possible way his wife would know that. He closed his eyes for the kiss, and the hand not tending to Neda's toes stroked the back of Teija's neck, where it had squeezed her and kept her below water, not long ago. "You spoil me." he said. There was a hardness to his tone. She had been so beautiful in her icy bed, enveloped by chills and the enamel she never polished. She hadn't even made a ruckus because he'd told her to. And here she was, prettied up for the day. It had all made him feel almost proud of her, and loving, certainly, but after Neda's look around the house and her rotund reminder of Teija's inability to give him children - perhaps because of his own abuse of her - she was again a failure in his eyes.

    His hand trailed down her back to find the mark of his teeth when she kissed his cheek. He put the pressure of two fingers against the shirt, to awaken the nerves in the broken skin there. "Teija here likes cooking." In the sun, meth, my mood. But never food. Neda didn't need to know. He was sure she didn't need to be told. His home didn't exactly project the image of a homemaker woman. "Does Jordan cook for you?" Preposterous, a man cooking for a woman, even when she was heavy with child. It was a joke and he expected laughter, dug his fingers deeper into Teija so she'd laugh. He didn't excuse her. She usually knew to stay put if he didn't let her go. The times she'd failed to at least uphold that much of their front, his punishments had been unholy. She liked what he supplied more than to be actually spiteful, in that regard. Of course, there'd be a first for anything.
     
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  18. TQRiver

    TQRiver Well-Known Member Member

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    Neda allowed her foot to be picked up, the sandal slipping off easily enough. It was the design after all, shoe buckles and laces were just too hard over this swollen belly. She leaned back into the soft cushion, letting her head rest back as his fingers began to rub the aches and tiredness from the soft tissues of her feet. She let out a groan of satisfaction, watching his fingers work against her pale skin. Neda smiled when his hand moved to touch her swollen belly, not noticing the hike in her dress that revealed a glimpse into the dark shadow that her belly caused over her virtue. Her hand went over his, her warm skin gingerly pressing his hand to her belly. “Yes. I know it is.” She smiled at him, warmth and innocence barely in the stretch of her lips.

    Cheeks blossomed red as he mentioned his wife being happy to see him. She didn’t like talking about such things, the intimacy of wife and husband relations. “Oh.” Her eyes averted from him towards the cellar once more. When he answered her question she looked at him again with a cocked eyebrow. “Does Father know?” She asked, unsure whether or not she should hold that precious secret for him. Her foot rose to press her bare toes into his gut near his belly button. “What will you give me if I don’t tell?” Her voice took on a cheeky tone, one that was playful trying to con their parents into buying them a new toy. Her foot fell back into his lap gently, toes wiggling to urge him to continue the stroke. “He’s good.” She grunted as his fingers squeezed at the soft tissue. “That hurt.” She scowled him, warning him to be gentle. “He told me to leave the house.” Her hand stroked her round belly. “He says I should be with my mother during this time.” Genuine sadness filled her voice, missing her husband. She had all but been kicked out of her own home in the last few days. “But that is just until I give birth. Then I can go back with his child.” She smiled at Marlon as if that was alright, that she believed she should be with her mother. That it was for her own good and not the dislike of pregnant women that her husband carried.

    It was then she caught sight of Teija. The hung over woman caught the smile of her husband, looking at him strangely with furrowed brows. He rarely offered her such grins of pride. Teija let out a startled yelp as she was pulled down beside him instead of given money. Neda grinned, thinking this was rather cute. He wanted his wife to be with him. Teija winced as his fingers brushed her neck where the bruise was beginning to bloom. Teija looked at him, hearing his words but noting his tone, her eyes searched his with a coy grin tickling at the corner of her lips. Teija looked at Neda as the other girl asked if she was alright. Teija shrugged, her mind set on the trail of his fingers as they worked their way closer to the spot on her back. She let out a wordless gasp as his fingers pressed against the wound, her muscles tensed and her back straightened, causing Neda to look at her oddly. “Are you alright?” The blonde girl asked. Teija made to stand up, wanting to be rid of those painful digits that riddled her skin with stinging sensations.

    Neda took her foot from Marlon’s lap and slipped her sandal back on. She giggled at his joke, Teija awkwardly joining in through clenched teeth, her chest arching slightly away from his fingers. Teija suddenly stood, unable to stay under the control of his fingers. Every simply pressure he applied seemed to fuel her headache. She didn’t leave and instead the hung over girl went to sit beside Neda, her hand resting on the girl’s swollen belly, a clever way to hide her retreat from her husband. “When is the baby due?” She asked, Neda’s hand touching Teija’s with a smile. “In a few months still.” Teija nodded, eyes focusing on the rounded belly and avoiding her husband’s gaze. Neda took this obvious avoidance a different way. She sighed and took Teija’s chilly hands into her own warm ones. “You’ll have one soon. I know it.” Neda looked from wife and husband, pitying them that they had yet to conceive.

    With no one coming to help her, Emma sank down the door to the cold ground, her fits still resting on the door as she began to cry by the entrance. Her tears were gone unheard, her sorrow unfelt by anyone that could save her. The door kept her emotions locked up, her body unseen and her mind numbing to the solitude that collapsed into her. It had only been an hour, if that and she felt alone, static in the silence.
     
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  19. reverse

    reverse crusher rusher Member

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    It was hard for the affectionate brother not to see his sister as a woman when she made sounds for his massage. He supposed he only had himself to blame, knowing full well he'd put either of his sister's faces over Teija's sometimes, when he was relieving frustration into his less-than-elegant wife. Daunting, following her inner thighs with his eyes until the darkness provided by her belly stopped him from seeing more. Her certainty of the gender was touching. Neda has always been a good bet for a good mother. Marlon wondered how she might do if she didn't get to raise the baby.

    The brother almost laughed when she reddened for the subject that she had started. Her change of focus was not as endearing. His eyes narrowed slightly at that. "He doesn't. And he doesn't have to. This is my girl." Marlon said about Father. It was important to him that Neda didn't think of Father as that much higher in the hierarchy than himself. People relied on Marlon, and most other men here fell in line when he wanted them to. Too often, though, he was reminded the respect ingrained in all of Father's children ran deep, like the rootwork of their veins. The son was of course as bothered by that as he was jealous.

    Perhaps Neda noticed his drop in mood, and remedied it with her usual games. The world had been kind to Neda, and her personality fit well into the Commune, it had helped her be a rather cheerful person, if a bit naive. He smiled when she pushed her toe against him, and resumed his spoiling of her foot. "How about I don't tickle you?" he asked, hand not clutching her foot sliding past her knee quickly to grace and tap deeply on her inner thigh. It used to have her in loud laughing fits when they were kids. These days, he found himself wondering if she'd be so distressed by the forced laughter he could make her do unseemly things in exchange for him to stop. If he had the choice right now, he should like to try her full tits, and see what flavor her milk was. That'd be quite delicicious.

    Marlon did treat his sister's foot gentler, but that didn't mean he liked Jordan any more than he had at the beginning of this. He frowned at the husband's behavior to his pregnant wife. He'd picked up on the man's dislike of women with child. It was offensive that it would extend to Neda. While Charlotte was good at caring for her children, she shouldn't be a replacement for the child's father. "I think you should be where you want to when you're carrying his child." Marlon didn't often miss a chance to discredit Jordan, even though he tried to be subtle about it. His child. The wording made Marlon sick.

    Teija was a welcome distraction and he liked playing with her. He even abandoned his attention to Neda's foot so he could look at Teija's reactions. Her sound upon sitting was beautiful, and her tension was picturesque. For all the things that Teija denied him just by being the filthy addict that she was, she'd never been the kind of substance roadie that lost herself into the fumes and chemicals to the point where she couldn't give good anguish for his punishments. He had to apply himself not to laugh loudly when she giggled with Neda. It was almost touching.

    With some well-crafted scheming, the cold-washed girl sat herself down on the other side of Neda, and he watched her circle the life inside his sister. He felt a little suspicious then, as though she was threatening his niece. Neda's kind words to what she assumed was Teija's greatest regret did strike a chord with the man. "Sure. She's not really fulfilling her role as a woman and wife otherwise." he replied to that and placed the foot back on the floor, sure to throw a quick glance up her skirt when he took the other and started working on it. He was worried Emma might have other sensibilities, she certainly had expressed as much during their talks, but had also seen genuine interest in becoming a traditional woman. She could not be worse than Teija, at least.

    "Have you seen Ariela?" he asked. Emma's silence hadn't gone unnoticed. He was sure her pathology was getting the better of her now. It was usually their stillness that preluded their break. She hadn't had the last of her loud phases, though, even if he would like that. She needed to suffer so that she would know only he could save her. Emma was a good woman. She was meant for this kind of life. He just needed to be patient so he didn't spoil her.

    Marlon decided he didn't want Teija that close to his sister right now, despite her good behavior, and pulled out a few bills from his pocket. They were damp after their bathtub games, but seemed to be wrapped around something. Teija would likely recognize it as some of the contraband she dealt with. He shook the cash for his wife to see. In their messy house, and with the light in his back, did he look like some kind of dark savior? "This is what you wanted, right?" he asked and touched the bills to his face, so she had to look at him.

    "Would you like me to help you with this?" It would be mystifying to Neda as to why a grown woman like Teija, nomatter how unruly, would need help with putting money on her person. The pills in the little bag between the cash were a variety that did their best work on the bloodstrem if they were deposited through the back door. In the past, his wife had let him play like that if it meant a quicker path to her highs. It seemed she might have plans to leave, though, and he wanted to gauge which she'd rather.

    She could have the money in her hand, if she wanted that, and if she'd for some reason choose the other option, he'd follow her into the other room and help her out, excusing them from Neda.
     
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  20. TQRiver

    TQRiver Well-Known Member Member

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    Neda looked at him with furrowed eyebrows as his mood changed. The girl giggled as his fingers teased at her soft thigh, her hand moving to push his away. “Hey, you can’t do that anymore.” She told him with mock irritation. “I’m not a kid anymore.” One didn’t tickle adults and she was thoroughly not a child anymore, her rounded belly stating the obvious.

    “Well…” Neda scratched the side of her head awkwardly. It wasn’t like she got a say in anything. If he didn’t want her in the house, she couldn’t argue. She was his wife. “I’ll be able to go back in a few months at least.” Her shoulders shrugged, trying to make the best of a bad situation. Her fingers gingerly traced along her stomach, thinking that she should be able to live in her home, but she didn’t voice that opinion. It wasn’t her place.

    Teija met Marlon’s eyes as she rubbed Neda’s belly, her dark make up giving her an almost sinister grungy look with her deshelled hair and pale skin. At his words her eyes left his, looking down at Neda’s belly before she withdrew her hand. Neda looked at Teija, seeing the hurt that Marlon had just caused in those lack luster eyes. “Marlon….” Neda whined on Teija’s behalf. Teija shrugged but said nothing, not wanting to get into that argument again. It wasn’t Neda’s place to comment on the duties of a wife but he had been rude, calling Teija out for her inability to conceive, in front of guests to boot! When her foot was placed back on the floor she covered her knees with her skirt, sitting up straighter.

    Neda sighed with he asked about Ariela. “Yes, she has been meeting with the butcher’s son the last few days. I think they might begin courtship.” Neda said, an excited tone in her voice. “It isn’t who I would have picked for myself but Ariela seems content.” Her shoulders shrugged, hand caressing her swollen belly.

    Teija looked up as Marlon moved, pulling out a few crumpled bills with something wrapped inside. Was it an apology? Was he trying to make nice for his harsh words in front of Neda. Teija never wanted kids, she loathed the little bastards, but pointing out her short comings and her inability to perform a woman’s sole responsibility and duty was embarrassing. Especially to Neda who was fulfilling her dutiful role as wife and now mother. Teija’s gaze followed the bills as he touched them to his face, a clever way to make her look at him. “Yes.” She stood up, the attention to Neda’s belly gone. Ned watched the two interact, eyebrows raising in confusion. “Help?” Neda asked, unable to mind her own business.

    Teija looked down at the blonde girl then at Marlon. “Yes.” She agreed, her neck stiffly nodding only once, trying to obscure her enthusiasm in front of Neda. Neda sighed. “I can take a hint.” She grabbed Marlon’s hand and used his weight to help her get off the low couch. A groan escaped her lips as her large belly made it difficult to stand. Her hand caressed her womb before she leaned up and kissed Marlon on the cheek. “Glad you’re back.” She mused before moving to give Teija a hug. Teija expertly dodged it, pretending to cough and holding her hand in front of Neda. Neda stopped moving forward, arms outstretched before they fell to her sides. “Don’t tell me you’re getting sick!” She covered her mouth, not wanting to catch the illness while pregnant. Neda looked at the other apologetically before leaving the house, her waddle of pregnancy slowing her movements.

    Teija watched the petite woman go. Even seven months pregnant the girl looked small from behind, carrying the full weight in the front. Her gaze slowly turned back to Marlon. The girl punched his shoulder, hard enough to make him feel it but not aggressively. “That was mean!” She growled at him, anger boiling up for his comment earlier. It was like those little words were harsher than his physical treatment of her, that his words were the worst thing he could do to her.
     
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