"The nightingale sings. A scarlet letter burns upon our lives and snatches it away…
"But what can we do? Look toward the light, and find your answer."
The clapping of hands, "That was motivating as usual, m'am! Now, for our next entry… by 'Germaine'. Let's give her a warm welcome"
The Beret Girl made her bow towards the packed audience and slipped out of sight while the next contestant got up out of her seat and got on stage. Down the steps, she turned around to see her competition before being rammed headfirst into a damp cloth—
The introductory applause drowned out a horrifying scream.
The young woman felt herself surrounded by burly animals—Crazed eyes snapped from face to face, "Out the back," a calm hiss.
The last thing she could perceive was the visage of her most current nightmare looking down upon her with a wide smile, deprived of sanity.
Eyes fogged out, and then everything went black.
"I've read that novel."
The arms wandered on silk. Stirring in forced sleep. Cool. Comforting. As in a dream… Lips parted and searched for air…
"Ohh.."
The dark eyelids took forever to pry open. Opening, closing. Reds and golds. Velvet. Heat awash on every part of her body—
Too warm.
"What happened?" When a hand supported her delicate frame and when the focus sharpened into clarity, the Beret Girl realized something.
Immediately wrapping her exposed arms around her unclothed self.
The only cover was lace; obsidian hiding away her feminine treasures.
"No." Pink became crimson when her wild orbs made contact with a silhouetted figure, lounging around in his regal seat, like that of a pharaoh, amidst the flames of his grand fireplace.
Bradley Uppercrust the Third was in nothing but his red, black lined robe.
"Have a good trip?" Incisors glimmered within the shade.
The girl saw her discarded clothes at his feet. She bolted for them, but felt the garment being pulled away. His breath like ice in all this intense heat,
"If you want them back, you're going to have to entertain me first."
Thin brows came together in disdain.
"Oh come now I'm not all bad! I can be nice, if you want me to be… Of course,"
Suddenly bringing out a dagger behind him, "I can always use this as a last resort." Brad threw it over his shoulder and across the room. It landed in the middle of a soft, lush carpet.
The girl nearly fainted on the spot, bleach white.
"Ha ha ha!" Delicate fingers touched the cheek, "Pity. You're so beautiful…"
"Why?"
"What's the question again?"
"Why me?" Licking his lips, he brought her forward in her kneel,
"Are you insinuating you haven't the slightest clue?"
Bradley's eyelids drooped as his brows came together, and gave a feather's kiss on quivering lips. Sudden chills went coursing through the woman's body. The junior took his chance and slid a gentle hand down her back, "Sit with me."
The Beret Girl stared in disbelief. The usual wackiness to his character was replaced by some Don Juan. Dark, persistent, yet gentlemanly in this request… She couldn't bring herself to "entertain" him willingly. The glint of silver on the carpet snapped her out of her trance and into deep blue pools. "Please, sit."
He put his lean, toned legs over the edge of the seat and helped her to a stand. The woman's body on silk nearly put her in Lust's spell, had it not been for the fact that this was the trash that had taken itself out…
"I—" Holding her close, a grip on her waist, then on her voluptuous curves, the jock went in for another deep kiss, giving just the tip of his tongue to hers. For a split second, she thought that his voice was growling incessantly in her mind, "join me". His strong arms under the liquid fabric wrapped all around her unstable frame. The woman found it hard to breathe when the wet muscle cleaned her neck and shoulder blade, "You…"
"What about me?"
"You're so shy when you're not up onstage… Cute." The predator's gaze went away for a second to give a child's smile. This only made the girl quite unsure about these actions, "Can't you give me just one kiss?"
It sounded as if he wanted the chocolate wrapped in foil.
The random image in the young woman's vision made her giggle suddenly.
"What's so funny?" playing along—touching his nose to hers. She couldn't stop herself from getting another hot rush to her cheeks—still giggling like a little girl. A side never seen in that café, "Nothing!"
"Nothing?" Bradley regained control of the situation and slid his whole tongue into dew-kissed lips… She fell. Within his embrace, his scent, and sweet nothings whispered in the back of her mind. Their exposed muscles greeted one another. At first Puppy Love, transforming into a crazed sinful necessity. The heat of the flames against silk caused a single bead of sweat to roll down her neck and side of her collarbone, lapped up by a desperate man. The hands finally found the clasp behind her and opened the brassiere, taking a caring hand between the woman's shoulder and her strap, leaving the thumb to remove the lace…
"You… will be the best one yet."
Yet?
Deep green eyes were all of a sudden up in shock, "What?"
Petrified as he took her right leg to his hip and leaned down upon his seat once more, with the Beret Girl on top,
"Maybe you weren't paying attention." She couldn't grasp what he meant,
"You should know that you're not the first, nor the last—
"Are you saying—?" hollow whisper.
"You're just another. Is there a problem with that?"
That was a big problem. When the words processed, her intoxicated gaze turned into a leer,
"Bradley."
"Miss Mochaccino." The same dark laugh from the confines of the dressing room…
"No. I don't want to do this
"anymore." Finishing her sentence, "But you wanted to, and that's all that matters."
"I changed my mind!" The junior was far from impressed at her protest—
"When love is conditional, that isn't love at all. But I know you want this." lowering his voice to a hiss before opening the robe and exposing his chest, "Now come here" motioning with his finger. She shook her head and tried to tear away, both legs held down by rough hands,
"I said— Fingers went behind her head and pulled her down before she could yell. The other hand traveled to a snow white hill and rubbed feverishly despite her squirming, trembling. She went hard at the nip. He had to trail out of her mouth just to see her reaction—
"Stop!" He flashed a devilish smile and sat up, letting his robe slither down to the middle of his torso. More licks to her ghost's face before sucking hard at her breast and teasing her with his bared teeth, with the jaw never clamping down—
"Please stop!" Then the other one, leaving a mess of hot saliva and sweat from his damp chest. A rushing of blood to his other head made him remove the robe completely. She didn't dare look down,
"But I'll make you."
He pinned her down to the lower end of the long cushion so that her hair was nearly touching the floor, neck barely supporting her skull, "Hold them together."
"What?!" An abnormal high pitch to her usual sultry voice.
"Hold them together." A stern tone. The atmosphere went cold, but the fire silhouetting their figures blazed on for what seemed like an eternity.
Tiny yelps escaped as his erection went in between her coarse pair. At first slow, then pushing a little faster—faster still, beginning to throb to his moans…
"That's always a good alternative to masturbating."
His straightforward commentary was sickening. The Beret Girl shut her eyes to his lust-shot expression, but she didn't notice—
"Ah! Ah!" Strong, thin fingers pressed harder into the lace mesh. The spot was touched, "Ahh—" Again. An appendage went through the black panties and only went in further in spite of the woman's sudden shrieks. Now two were inside, rocking and giving her a high degree of forced pleasure, muffled by another kiss—no longer caring, but wanting to eat her alive-!
"You want more." Spreading them out in front of her face, strewn with vaginal liquid. Soft pants answered his observation.
Uppercrust got up and lifted her, cradled in his arms.
At this point the girl didn't know what to do. This guy went from polite to dangerous in just a short amount of time. Whatever satisfaction she felt couldn't drown out the fact that she was just another sex doll to this aged demon, ensnared inside a 20-year-old body.
"You're so beautiful; I want you tied to my bed…"
Dark hands ran forever through flowing keratin as she was placed into the scarlet sheets, "just to see how long you would last." A slight scowl formed when he said this.
Nothing good could come out of this. Beret Girl's leer turned into a glare, "No chance of that."
The difference in height made it hard to even sit up—Uppercrust kept his body all over hers, feeling her up, massaging her legs, hips, behind—going in between to find her sheath again, hooking onto the hem of her cover. The poet's hands were powerless even as she put up a determined struggle, trying to wriggle away from this steel trap. Incisors bit down on her hill's peak and began to savor the rest of her. Bite marks shone red on white—he, growling like a wild animal—
"Br—Bradley!" His name echoing off the high walls. Going into overdrive when the lace was removed and about ready to go inside-
"I'm not happy. Are you?" Suddenly calm.
"Go to hell!"
"I'm already in it!"
A blood curdling scream rang as he broke through skin, going all the way in—heavy thrust upon heavy thrust. The man's features darkened. This wasn't just another woman…
"Go on, little lady: Snap your fingers." Bradley let out a horrid, sadistic, childish giggle and delved in again. The woman let out another shriek, at last realizing why he had brought her here… Against her will, the girl began to shed crystal.
"Ohh!" Strong legs began to shake under the tension.
"Please! Stop—"
"I'm not through with you yet!" whispering harshly in her ear before nibbling the lobe. A few more thrusts were all he needed, "Ah!" pulling out just in time to let his dew sprinkle over an empty womb—"You're not worth having a child with."
Her brows furrowed despite the suffering and pitiful sobs. Miss Mochaccino had enough.
"I have more respect for the common whore than women like you. You. The way you act. The way you move. It screams, 'fuck me!'"
All she wanted to do was cover her ears; the jock had them wrenched to her sore sides.
"I'm just fulfilling your wishes. Your innate desires…"
It was as if she were made of glass, he seeing right through her very being. Her heart ached as her mind cried out, "That's not true! That's not true!"
"It is. Don't deny it. It's within all of us." Glowing red eyes pierced through her own; his lips were sealed shut.
"Now tell me," now speaking, "if you don't mind... What's your real name, little Miss Mochaccino?"
The woman spat in his face.
"Oh. You shouldn't have done that."
Violated. Where only a lost soul would go. Sodom and Gomorrah.
Bodies entwined, locked together. There was no love.
No love at all…
Yelling, screaming and cursing from each partner. Once or twice did he have to raise a dominant hand—
"Shut up Shut up SHUT UP!"
"No!" The weeping only got more flagrant.
The noise pounded in his eardrums. He couldn't take it anymore. Bradley was going hysterical. She wasn't bleeding. Only bruises near the areas of her once sacred femininity after his corruption—
A poisonous thought jolted through his brain—All of a sudden he wanted the Beret Girl dead, even if it meant having to strangle her with his bare hands—
But that's not what I want!
He exploded within her, and the twisted fantasy died with it.
"Agh!" Burying his face and screaming into her bosom, before he burst into tears.
Like a child that had lost its mother.
I'm tired! So tired… So tired.
They slowly distanced themselves from one another. In excruciating pain, emotional turmoil, and a confused, scorching hatred. The junior collapsed—a dead man trying to get off the bed.
Bloodshot eyes could never understand what this creature knew, what he went through to get himself in such a damned place as this, cold and shivering on the ground. And how she, a woman that meant no harm, only living to express her deepest thoughts, fears and desires in the guise of pretty, sensual words—ended up being dragged down with him…
This Hell on Earth.