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Prisoned: A Dark Twisted Erotic Standalone by Marni Mann (21)

Twenty-Two

Kyle

“Ahh!” I screamed as something freezing and sour-smelling splashed onto my face.

My eyes snapped open and immediately closed again. The mysterious liquid stung my eyes something fierce and burned the hell out of my tongue. It was inside my nose, running down the back of my throat, so potent that I gagged.

“Air,” I gasped. “I…can’t…breathe…”

Something was squeezing my chest, constricting my airflow. I opened my eyes to see what it was, and tears poured from my lids. I tried to blink out whatever was burning them; it only got worse. My vision was blurry, and the light in here was dim, but I was able to see the ropes. They weren’t just on my wrists and ankles. They were circled around each breast, meeting in the middle and weaving into a braid that traveled down my stomach, under my pussy, through the slit of my ass, up my shoulders, and met again at my breasts.

It was a jumpsuit of rope. Tight, scratchy, unforgiving rope. And, every time I moved, the rope tugged against my clit, squeezed my breasts…and prevented me from taking in any air.

“I’ve missed you,” Breath whispered from behind me, his lips pressing against the back of my ear. He tugged my hair, so my neck flew back, my face now pointed toward the ceiling. “I heard you while you two were fucking. You sounded so good; you made my dick hard.”

He rubbed his erection across the back of my head. It was a pathetic hard-on. Disgusting. And it smelled revolting.

“I hoped you were using your fingers. Sticking them into that sweet cunt of yours. Balling them together, so you were giving yourself your whole fist. That’s what it sounded like, so I had to see it for myself. I had to see if I could fit my entire fist in you.” He wrapped his hand around my hair and pulled down even harder. “You know what I found, puta? I found Garin’s cum in your ass…and I didn’t fucking like it.”

His nails dug into the backs of my ears, and it felt like he was piercing my lobes.

“Did you hear me? I didn’t fucking like it. I’m going to make sure my cock is the only one that will ever be inside your ass again.”

He was going to make sure?

“Did you do something to Garin? Where’s Garin? Don’t—”

He yanked the rope until it tightened against my pussy and around my breasts. I felt my skin start to split. When I opened my mouth to scream, he slapped his hand over it.

“I’m going to give you the biggest load your ass has ever gotten. And, while I’m coming in your ass, you’re going to get my fist in your pussy. How would you like that?” He moved to the front of me and straddled my waist, blocking me from looking at anything but him.

The pressure on my thighs tightened the rope. My clit was about to burst.

“Don’t you dare scream,” he warned. “If you want the pain to stop, then you’d better start obeying me.”

I shut my mouth and screamed on the inside instead. I blinked away the tears. I tried to find the tiniest bit of air to fill my lungs. And I searched for the memories of Garin—his face, his eyes, his presence, whatever would get me through this.

Breath leaned forward, his rancid tongue tracing the outer edge of my mouth. When he finished the second lap, his scent stayed on me. It was the only thing I could smell. It felt like I was stuck inside a toilet. No air, just his tongue and the foulest stench.

He grabbed his dick through his pants and rubbed it. “Are you ready for me, Kyle? Ready for me to be inside your ass?”

I shook my head.

“No?” He laughed. “Then, tell me what I want to hear.”

Telling him the truth would only get more people killed. I was sure he was going to kill me, so why not just take the punishment and die with the secret? Why get more people involved? I was as guilty as the murderer anyway because I hadn’t told anyone what he had done.

“No.” I knew the consequences of giving Breath that answer. I knew things could probably get much worse. But as long as he was only hurting me, then I’d take it. I’d take it to my grave, and I’d save Garin. I’d die without anyone else having to die, too.

“Wrong answer.”

His nails stabbed the top of my nipple. I felt him go through the skin. I felt the skin snap open. I felt the blood seep out.

“No!” I yelled. “I still won’t tell you.”

Garin was there, behind my lids. That scruffy beard that tickled my cheeks as he kissed me. Those hands that gripped my face, not allowing me to look at anything but him. Those beautiful eyes that held me with a type of strength I’d never felt before. I didn’t know where the air came from, but it huffed through my nostrils as I breathed through the pain. And the scream stayed inside me. It simmered, it festered, but it didn’t come through my lips.

Paulie hadn’t screamed. In those seconds it took him to die, he had held it in.

I’d hold it in, too.

“Tough girl, huh?” Breath hissed.

His hand dipped to my pussy. I didn’t think it could do any more damage, and I didn’t think the rope could squeeze my clit any tighter.

I was so wrong.

“Oh, puta, this is going to feel really good.”

He pushed the lips of my pussy against the nylon, so the sensitive skin on the inside ground into the roughness of the rope. I was raw. My clit felt like it had been chewed off. And just when I thought it couldn’t hurt any worse, he shimmied the rope back and forth as though he were trying to start a fire.

The memories of Garin were gone. The air…gone.

I couldn’t keep the screams in. They shot up my throat and shouted from my lips, spit pooling in the corners, tears falling in my open mouth.

“I knew it would feel good.” He stopped and looked down at my lap. “You’re bleeding. But you’re not bleeding enough. I want more of your blood. I want to know you’ll never feel pleasure again. And anytime something touches you down there, I want it to hurt. I want it to always hurt.”

“Do-don’t do this to me-me.”

“Why? Because you’ve been such a good girl? Because you’ve given me everything I’ve wanted? Because you’ve answered every question I’ve asked?” His hand disappeared behind his back and returned with a knife. “You haven’t done any of those things. So, puta, I’m going to make you my own personal coloring book.” The tip of the knife stabbed into my breast. “I’m going to try real hard to stay inside the rope.”

As the knife pierced the skin at the top of my breast, blood squirted from the small hole and sprayed him in the face.

“Stop,” I begged. “Please…stop.”

He stuck his tongue out and caught the drops as they fell from his lip. “I’m just getting started.” His eyes were demonic as he dragged the blade across my skin. Sick and beyond demented.

“I can’t…” It hurt so badly. My tongue didn’t want to work. My voice was gone. My courage and my hope were slipping with each drop of blood that poured out.

When he reached the bottom of my breast, half of it now cut, he smiled from his handiwork. “I’m headed for your pussy next. Do you want to know what I’m going to do to it?” He moved to the side, so I could finally see what was across from my chair. “I’m going to make your pussy look like this,” he said.

When I realized what I was looking at—who I was looking at—I screamed with every bit of strength that was left in my body.

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