Page 5 of Savage Behavior

Sweat beads dripped down my abdomen, and my chest was heaving. Something like emotion was bubbling up in my throat, but I didn’t let it. I snuffed it down. Unless it was Krista, my feelings remained off. They made me weak. I was a savage, and savages didn’t have feelings. Krista was my one and only exception. I know that loving her so fiercely gave me a weakness, something that people can hurt me with or take away. I noticed a dark shadow in the corner of the mirror to my left, so I veered away from my routine, pretending to skim my right hand down my thigh. I was really reaching for my weapon. I turned and threw in some random dance moves, pulling my attention toward the figure, but it was gone. There was nothing there.

I searched the room discreetly as I danced, prepared for anything at this point. If the Grim Reaper was coming for me, I was not going down without a fight.

A door slammed, pulling my immediate attention in the opposite direction. The music changed, and I turned to face the speakers to make sure they knew I noticed, but I shrugged and kept dancing like I didn’t care. Someone was fucking with me, and if they wanted to play with a black widow, they could get bit. There must have been more than one person because there was no way to get to the opposite side of the room so quickly undetected.

I kept moving, keeping my RBF in place. Even if I felt scared, I wouldn’t let anybody see it on my face. I stayed on my P’s and Q’s—no fear, ever. I would look death straight in the eyes as its hand was around my throat and smile. There was nothing in this world that could scare me. I had seen things right before my eyes that people on the dark web would cower to.

The music stopped, and I looked to where I had left the remote, and it was gone.

“What the fuck?” I questioned out loud, turning to make my way to where I left it on purpose. They were so predictable, of course; they moved it so I would come to check, and then they would attack me. I’ll play.

I walked over to the table and touched where I knew the remote had sat. I pretended to look under, moving some things around. “I know I put it right here,” I stated.

I heard steps behind me but didn't turn to face them; they were trying to be quiet, so I pretended not to hear them. Arms wrapped around my waist, lifting me up, and one hand covered my mouth. Gross. I wouldn’t have screamed or made any noise, but I guess if they thought I was scared, they also thought I would scream. I rolled my eyes and started to fake beg.

“Shut the fuck up, or ill slit your throat,” the gruff voice threatened.

I shook my head no, violently.

“Good girl,” he leered, and the hair instantly raised on the back of my neck and arms. I did not like to be called a good girl. Those thoughts were more challenging to block. My foster father used to call me that anytime I would take attention away from Krista so that he would come and torture me with his flaccid cock. He would unlock the closet and swing the door open, his dick already hard and wanting. His breath would smell of stale alcohol and cigarettes.

“Ay mija. You have to share sometimes,” the words rang through my head. Share, really? Sick fucking bastard, she was a child. I would take every ounce of pain for her any fucking day. Technically I was a child too, but, in my mind, I had lost my childhood a long fucking time ago. That wasn’t my first rodeo. When I was done taking him whatever way he wanted, he would rub his thumb over my lips and say, “Good girl.” Other women may like that, but not me. Not ever. Call me a dirty little slut any day but not a good girl. That name turned on a whole different level of fight or flight. I started to buck, fighting him off, making it so he needed both hands to restrain me, freeing up my mouth. “I’m going to fucking kill you,” I spat calmly.

“Sure, you are,” he scoffed. Two more figures emerged from the darkness, and I knew he had help. Such a pussy.

“We’re going to fill every hole in your body; you would love that, wouldn’t you?” he rambled, licking the side of my face. He was going to regret that.

“Blast the fucking music and lock the door, we don’t want anyone to hear her scream.”

Don’t worry, mother fucker. I wouldn’t be the one screaming. Work mode activated.

Music flooded the room, and they rushed back to where he was holding me; I fought intentionally, trying to get them in front of the mirrors so I could have more vantage points. I had two mini daggers on me; I just had to get to them. If that meant taking some dick first, then so be it.

They began to touch my body, invading what should be cherished spaces, but I knew better than that. Take it, fellas, there wasn’t anything you could do that hadn’t already been done. One guy was kissing the mounds of my breast, the one behind me was grinding his pathetic little dick into my ass, and the other was sloppily kissing his way up my thighs.

They hadn’t noticed I stopped fighting or that I wasn’t begging them to stop. Men were fucking idiots.

“Don’t fucking fight me,” he spat, releasing my arms. Oh, I wouldn’t, little guy, I wouldn’t. Please give me a motherfucking reason to spill your blood.

My arms fell, and I lifted my shirt over my head. “Fuck yeah,” one said.

“I knew she was a whore; look at her. She wants us to take her,” the one holding me spat out.

“Fuck, her tits are perfect,” the last one stated as I unclasped my bra. I swished the mini dagger that was hidden there under my palm. Their attention was on my body. They didn't even see their imminent deaths coming.

I moved to unbutton my shorts. And shimmy out of them, letting the denim drop around my ankles. Their eyes widened. No panties, only fishnet tights. My bare pussy was right there in their faces. So, they didn’t notice that I had grabbed the other mini dagger and that it was cupped into the palm of my free hand.

The one kissing up my thighs put his mouth on my pussy, the one behind me cupped my ass, then slapped it hard. His fingers rubbed around the tight hole there. I was not even phased. The third guy is sucking on my nipples like the bitch he was, and I just let them get hypnotized by my goods.

I closed my eyes, preparing to take charge of the situation; I was going to take out the one that was sucking my tits first. Then, the one at my feet. The one grabbing me had to be last because he was still behind me, fingering my ass. I would shoot for quick jabs to the throat. Making sure they wailed around, trying to gasp for air that would never reach their lungs again. I took a deep breath and moaned, so they went harder at whatever they thought they were doing.

I began a countdown in my head.

Three…

Two…

Chapter 5

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