Lover jammed the rubber ball gag between her teeth so hard, Alicia worried one of her teeth had chipped. Lover secured the gag in place. She knew better than to scream or fight, though she did give a little squeal. Lover would only make the punishment worse if she struggled, but it didn’t stop the tears from trailing down her cheeks.
Her flesh was still tender when she felt something burn across it like a hot quill. Pain seared her skin as Lover made deliberate marks that were so sharp, they took her to the edge of her sanity. She felt the warm trickle of blood, and only then, she realized she’d been stabbed a bit too deeply. By then, she couldn’t move. Lethargy had set in, and her muscles had no control or function. Something had been in the drink, perhaps something to ease her pain? She still refused to think Lover would do anything to harm her.
The carving continued, and she struggled to scream, her voice a choked whisper behind the gag. The knife pierced deeper in some places, again and again. Blood stained the white cotton sheets, and black spots formed in her vision.
Finally, Lover was done. Through the pain, Alicia prayed the punishment was over and it would be time for the soothing and aftercare that made it all worth it. Somehow, she was still clinging to hope that it wasn’t as bad as she thought, even as the bed grew wet around her.
The room went quiet, as did the beating of her heart.
1
Darek
Darek stumbled through the dark woods. His feet snagged on every exposed root and fallen branch, but he was determined not to fall and even more determined not to drop the heavy weight in his arms. Run. Run. Gotta keep going. Keep moving. Run!
Something jarred him from the dream, and he woke up in his bedroom with sweat beading his brow. He stirred and grunted, opening one eye to glare at Megan who lay beside him.
“Was that necessary?” He rubbed the tender spot where she’d kicked him.
She made a sound of disgust. “You’re sweating like a fucking pig, and you’re making that whimpering sound again. It reminds me of a panting dog.” She gave him another kick beneath the covers.
“So, I’m a pig and a dog? Nice. Love you too, baby.” He rolled over and scrubbed his face with his palms. She could be so mean at times, and he longed for the days when she saved that attitude for everyone but him.
“You’re in the doghouse for sure.” Megan gave him a pouty look, but even though her side-eyed look was full of anger, he felt challenged to make her smile.
He reached out and poked her side, tickling at her through the sheet she’d wedged between them. Beneath it, she was naked. His cock responded immediately, giving a twitch. “I’m horny as a dog, too.”
He turned over, and she rolled away, but that only left the perfect opportunity to slip his cock up against her ass. He ground against her, wanting to bury himself deeply. His cock hardened with each slight thrust.
Her elbow connected with his ribs. “I don’t think so.” The laughter in her voice spoke more to his audacity than her humor. “You missed your window. If you’re not going to do this on schedule, then I’ll never get pregnant.”
“Nothing saying we can’t try now.” He kissed her neck and shoulder and rose up in an effort to go down on her.
She slapped him away like shooing a fly. “No. What’s the fucking point?”
She got up and slipped her robe on. It wasn’t that the two of them were having any sort of fertility problems, but for some reason, her friend told her about an ovulation app on her phone, and now she was all about testing its effectiveness.
“Because it feels good? I didn’t realize I’d been turned into a baby making machine. I thought I was your husband.” It wasn’t like she was gung-ho about the whole baby idea, and he was sure she was only using the app excuse to have things her way.
“I did too, but apparently, the only thing you’re married to is your badge and a few too many beers.”
Her robe fell open, exposing her breast which was veiled by her long, honey hair. Her anger narrowed her eyes, making them even more sultry. God, she was gorgeous. He wasn’t a slob himself, but sometimes, he wondered how he’d gotten so lucky. She was beauty-queen gorgeous and had the crowns to prove it. He’d always known she was like playing with fire, but lately, he couldn’t help but feel burned. He snapped out of his haze and opened his mouth to protest, but she put her hands on her hips.
“Don’t deny it. I can smell the stuff in your sweat.” She shut herself inside the bathroom.
He raised his voice through the door. “I didn’t realize having a beer here and there was such a big deal.”
It seemed like everything had become a big deal. He wasn’t doing anything dishonest. In fact, other women didn’t interest him much. Sure, he’d look—he wasn’t dead—but he’d remained devoted to Megan the entire year they’d been married, and even the two they hadn’t been. It had taken him a lot of work to get her to marry him, and there were days now he wondered if the battle between him and her father wasn’t one he should just wave a white flag at. That was all the marriage had felt like, one big “fuck you” to her father, and mostly on her end. She’d liked jerking both her daddy’s chain and Darek’s cock in the process. He sometimes thought she got off on having them both on their leashes.
She opened the door. “It’s not a big deal, but I wanted sex, Darek, and not the kind I need to buy batteries for.”
“No, you just want the kind you can chart on your fucking phone like we’re some kind of experiment.” He got up as she breezed past him to leave the room.
He’d barely gotten his morning rituals out of the way when Max called. “You need to get down here, man. We’ve got a live one, and by live, I mean dead. I hear it’s pretty gruesome.”
“Where do you need me?” He tried not to get too excited about the demise of another person, but this was the opportunity he’d been waiting for. As a homicide detective who’d recently applied for a position in the FBI, he needed the perfect case to get some attention.
“Meet me at the station. We’ll ride down together.” Max’s usual chipper voice was never fazed by the horrendous scenes they worked. The guy could eat a four-course meal at a week-old body dump.
“Sounds good, man. I’ll be out the door in five.” He hung up the phone and raked his hands through his dark, wet hair. He’d have to go with the stubbled look, and he considered growing a beard to turn his wife off even more. She hated it when he had stubble and had made sure he knew about it. She was the only woman who’d ever bitched through getting her pussy eaten, but find a nerve, and he’d hit it. His face had been shaved every morning since.
Megan was lost in her phone and sipping a cup of coffee when he went into the kitchen to say goodbye.
“Are you still going to see your mother this weekend?” she asked.
“Yes, are you going to come with me this time?” Sometimes he felt like they were always having the same conversations.