What You Got
Konvict, Konvict
Oooh Oooh Oooh Oooh
Oooh Oooh Oooh Oooh
Didn't want to wait too long before updating.
Happy 16th Birthday to me! With much love and admiration to my reviewers/fellow writers.
Disclaimer: Rated "T", but let me off this hook this time, Ok?
I peeped you on the phone
Just showin' off ya stones
And notice that that pinky ring is bright enough baby
I know you're not alone
But I could just be wrong
The way them fellas houndin' and sizin' you up baby
Yeah those guys wanna come treat ya right
Cause you're sweeter than APPLE PIE
Everything that you want you got
Girl you know that you need to stop
Most beautiful thing in sight
Always takin' on the spotlight
Always in the club lookin' hot
Girl you know that you need to stop
"Huntsgirl...its alright, its alright," came an urgent voice. Still, she continued struggling against the bonds holding her, knowing there was no way to escape from Jake this time...
"Get off, you bastard!" she yelled, finally freeing her foot to kick him in the face.
A heavy clunk followed as her foot connected .
"What the hell was that for?" he gasped. It wasn't Jake's voice.
"Huntsmaster? Where am I?!" she demanded.
"Easy, Huntsgirl, you're right where we...left off. You were just having a bad dream," he soothed, taking her head in his lap.
She used to think it was cold how, despite their relationship, he refrained from using her real name. That was until one day he sat her on his lap, and explained that "Huntsgirl" sounded more...sexy. She couldn't argue after that.
"Bad dream... thats right..." she muttered, an involuntary shiver rippling down her back.
"Are you going to be alright?" he asked, clearly concerned about her mental health, as she sat curled in a fetal position.
"Here, Huntsgirl, go clean yourself up, and get dressed," he said, collecting her scattered clothes. She blankly received them, walking into the bathroom.
"Get out of my way, man!" hissed 88, knocking both himself and 89 down, just as the bathroom door flew open.
"Oh mother of-"
Huntsgirl stood looking down on them, frozen. 88 let out a sound in between a whimper and a shudder, while 89, coming to his senses, scrambled to the door.
"Get out of here!" she screeched, on the verge of hysteria.
"Pussy," finished 89, as he made it out, with 88 on his heels.
Slamming the door behind them, Huntsgirl sank down into the tub, letting the water flow over her body. All she had to recall of the previous night was a sharp, irritating headache, and the indistinct memory of feeling drowsy while making love...in fact, she couldn't even remember getting from the floor to the bed.
It was troubling, to be at loss for so much of the past night, but her headache eased as the soothing sounds of high-pitched screams erupted in the room nearby. With satisfaction, she concluded 88 and 89 would be in no condition to remember anything they had spied on.
And I like the way you take advantage of every man you love
I see, I seem to know your game girl
But I don't mind if ya come and play ya thug just don't talk too much
I see, I see it so you don't have to say a word
"Huntsmaster, did you leave last night?" she asked shortly later, dressed in a spare uniform he kept for her, when the night got "rough" on her wear.
"No, I had business to attend to," he answered stiffly.
"Um...well, I can't remember anything that happened after-"
"You were drunk, Huntsgirl," he said bluntly and disinterested.
"You let me get that intoxicated?" she demanded sourly.
"You did it to yourself. And why are you complaining?" he asked, bagged eyes narrowing.
"No, I'm not," she said decidedly, standing up with an effort.
"Then lets go, we both have places to be." Walking out side by side, they made their way through the rec room, already crowded in the early afternoon.
"Hey, Huntsmaster, the game is half over, and the Gators are in the lead!" shouted a tall man with a goatee.
"What? Florida winning? Impossible," muttered the Huntsman, angrily.
"Come see for yourself! Or are you too tied up in the bedroom?" asked one of the younger Huntsmen.
"'Bout time somebody scored around here", said the one with the goatee, wagging his eyebrows like a villain in a vaudeville. His innuendo was met with good natured punches, and a round of chuckles, until one glare from the Huntsman silenced the humor.
"Just clownin', Huntsmaster", he added quickly.
No matter how hard the man hold back he'll end up callin' you baby
And they never really know what to do once you expose that thang you do
Ya had him crawlin' on hands and knees and ya find a way to get him out that cheese
And why ya thinkin' that you the only dude she off in the mall livin' off of you
Lettin' errbody know she got you- but now you feel like a fool
Hours into the night, Huntsgirl wandered the deserted halls by herself, not even considering sleep. She wasn't tired anyways, and not ready to face the nightmares again.
Rolling herself a cigar, she carefully packed the shredded tobacco not too tightly, but not too loosely, as the Huntsman had showed her how.
He hadn't invited her to his room for the night, and wasn't even in his quarters.
The smoke was working a feeling of ease into her system. She decided she had had enough pacing, and would return to her room for the night.
"Fuck", she muttered, slamming her shoulder against the jammed door, it wasn't opening.
All of a sudden, the object jamming the door slid down for her to reach. It was a key, wrapped in a red bow. You know what to do, said the message attached, and there was really only one person she could imagine behind this.
Storming back down the hallway, she pounded on his door.
"Try the key", came the suave voice from inside.
She angrily shoved the key in the lock, twisting and shoving the door open with unnecessary force. The room was completely dark, as earlier, only this time, he was waiting for her.
"Huntsmaster, what's the meaning of this?" she said, not bothering to control her tone.
"Happy Birthday, Baby girl," he whispered into the dark. She was glad it was too dark for him to see the look of surprise on her face- she had forgotten her birthday? Well, that was easy to do around here.
"I thought you would be in need of more...access...to my quarters, Huntsgirl."
"Huntsmaster, I thought that our relationship was to stay... low-profile," she said, lowering herself onto the bed in the dark. She could feel his warm body next to her.
"Ah, but the secrecy is quickly losing its appeal," he said, rolling on top of her. "Its quite a hindrance, anyways."
"The others will never accept this, though," she said firmly. "We were going to wait a few years..."
"Huntsgirl, I don't want to wait a few years. I've already had you for years, why should I wait to have more of you, just for propriety's sake? I want you to marry me."
The words didn't register for many long moments. Finally, she sat up.
"What did you say?"
"Marry me," he whispered in the dark, though a faint glitter could be seen through a crack of light in the door. He was holding a...ring.
Sucking in breath, she concentrated on keeping her heart beating.
"No, master, we can't...not yet."
"Yes, yet, Huntsgirl, I want you to marry me now," he said, grabbing her wrist.
"No! I don't want to wear it now, I'm not ready!" she yelled in protest, yanking her arm back.
"Yesss," he hissed in the dark, "You will marry me!" He grabbed her, pulling her to him. Then she stared into his eyes.
"Jake!" she gasped, holding in a scream. Struggling, she tried to pull away, but the walls were dissolving, in place of bare concrete, and once again, she was lying down, bound.
Worst of all, Jake was there, next to her as she struggled. Rolling his tongue around her mouth, despite her moans, he forcefully shoved her back to lying down.
Getting up, he fumbled with something on the bedside table. Turning back around, she could see he was holding two small syringes. She thrashed, but he grabbed her arm, sticking the needle in her vein without hesitation. She saw him inject himself, then lie down next to her, as she slipped back into demented dreams...
Yeah those guys wanna come treat ya right
Cause you're sweeter than apple pie
Always in the club lookin hot
Girl you know that you need to stop
Always talkin' bout what you got (Eh)
Always talkin' bout what you got (Eh)
Always talkin' bout what you got (Eh)
Girl you know that you need to stop
Well, thats it for now.
Question, for my reviews: What is 8D? Please explain, especially the one who keeps using that (that means you, YFWE)
Reviews are the only profit I make off this thing, so please, drop one in the hat, if you'd be so inclined.
Happy 16 to me.