AN: I would like to dedicate this next chapter to my parakeets, Nokia (AKA
Mr. Zebra) and Starling (AKA the Bad-ass FBI bird). And to my dogs, Casey
(AKA Riff, and strangely, he looks the part) and Molly (AKA Janet, just
those blank eyes).
I moaned in pleasure as Riff kneaded the muscles in my back. I had just come back from Frank, and as always, I was exhausted, angry, and frightened. Whenever I returned from Frank's bedchambers, Riff-Raff was always awake and waiting for me. He would hold up the covers for me as I crawled in. There was no sex on these nights, he knew I couldn't. But he always made the night pleasurable. He would rub my back, and stroke me, like a kitten. He whispered things into my ears, things that would have made me blush, had I any sense of modesty towards him. Sometimes, he would draw a bath for me, and help me wash off, washing off all the ill I had experienced on those nights.
This night was no different, and he was just getting started massaging my neck, when a painful yelp can from outside. I sat straight up in bed, listening for more noises. Riff would pull me back down, coddling me in his arms. He always made me feel like a little child in his arms. A baby, instead of a lover. (Eww, what AM I writing, that's. . . Ew). He nipped on my shoulder, causing me to gasp in pleasured pain. His hand cupped my breast, and his mouth moved up to my neck. He continued to bite, harder and harder, until I could stand it no longer. I shrieked, and as I did so, I heard again the yelp. I jumped out of bed, and without so much as a glance at my brother, slipped on my robe and padded downstairs, and out the door. I found, its leg caught under a trash can, a mangy and quite feral pregnant dog. I bent down to lift the trash can, and after I did so, quickly ran behind a tree, in case she came after me. She didn't move. I cautiously walked foreword, and saw her leg twisted out of shape, lying where the trash can had been at such an odd angle, it looked unconnected. I gently picked her up, then placed her by the door, where some of the heat from the house would reach her. Stepping back inside, I took off my robe as I walked down the hall, eager to get back to Riff. As I entered the room, I knew something was off. Riff sat up in the bed, his arms crossed. As I approached the bed, he stood up. He placed his hand under my chin, lifting my eyes to his.
"Magenta, don't do that again. When you are with me, when I am touching you, you belong to me. Do not leave until I say you can. I'm your older brother, and I know what's good for you, all right?"
I nodded, internally confused. It seems there was to be a sort of pecking order here. Frank commanded Riff, and Riff commanded me.
"Now then, where were we?" Riff pulled me down on top of him. His skin felt so hot against mine, still fresh from the midnight air. I could tell he felt the difference to, he shivered as our flesh met.
"You're cold. Lets cover you up before you catch ill." He rolled over on top of me, then pulled the covers up over us. He was pressing me flat against the bed, while the bed pressed me against him. He pressed his lips to my neck, bringing them up until he reached my lips. Before his lips met mine, he looked at me.
"Who am I Magenta? Why do I care for you?"
"Because you are my older brother, Riff," I whispered hoarsely.
"Good," he sight, pressing his lips firmly against mine.
I moaned in pleasure as Riff kneaded the muscles in my back. I had just come back from Frank, and as always, I was exhausted, angry, and frightened. Whenever I returned from Frank's bedchambers, Riff-Raff was always awake and waiting for me. He would hold up the covers for me as I crawled in. There was no sex on these nights, he knew I couldn't. But he always made the night pleasurable. He would rub my back, and stroke me, like a kitten. He whispered things into my ears, things that would have made me blush, had I any sense of modesty towards him. Sometimes, he would draw a bath for me, and help me wash off, washing off all the ill I had experienced on those nights.
This night was no different, and he was just getting started massaging my neck, when a painful yelp can from outside. I sat straight up in bed, listening for more noises. Riff would pull me back down, coddling me in his arms. He always made me feel like a little child in his arms. A baby, instead of a lover. (Eww, what AM I writing, that's. . . Ew). He nipped on my shoulder, causing me to gasp in pleasured pain. His hand cupped my breast, and his mouth moved up to my neck. He continued to bite, harder and harder, until I could stand it no longer. I shrieked, and as I did so, I heard again the yelp. I jumped out of bed, and without so much as a glance at my brother, slipped on my robe and padded downstairs, and out the door. I found, its leg caught under a trash can, a mangy and quite feral pregnant dog. I bent down to lift the trash can, and after I did so, quickly ran behind a tree, in case she came after me. She didn't move. I cautiously walked foreword, and saw her leg twisted out of shape, lying where the trash can had been at such an odd angle, it looked unconnected. I gently picked her up, then placed her by the door, where some of the heat from the house would reach her. Stepping back inside, I took off my robe as I walked down the hall, eager to get back to Riff. As I entered the room, I knew something was off. Riff sat up in the bed, his arms crossed. As I approached the bed, he stood up. He placed his hand under my chin, lifting my eyes to his.
"Magenta, don't do that again. When you are with me, when I am touching you, you belong to me. Do not leave until I say you can. I'm your older brother, and I know what's good for you, all right?"
I nodded, internally confused. It seems there was to be a sort of pecking order here. Frank commanded Riff, and Riff commanded me.
"Now then, where were we?" Riff pulled me down on top of him. His skin felt so hot against mine, still fresh from the midnight air. I could tell he felt the difference to, he shivered as our flesh met.
"You're cold. Lets cover you up before you catch ill." He rolled over on top of me, then pulled the covers up over us. He was pressing me flat against the bed, while the bed pressed me against him. He pressed his lips to my neck, bringing them up until he reached my lips. Before his lips met mine, he looked at me.
"Who am I Magenta? Why do I care for you?"
"Because you are my older brother, Riff," I whispered hoarsely.
"Good," he sight, pressing his lips firmly against mine.
