Page 53 of What I've Tasted of Desire

We sat there quietly listening to the music. Tiegan looked around the room awkwardly, before drinking more of his wine as if it would help to fortify his unsettled nerves. I watched him blink a couple of times as the Adam's apple in his throat bobbed up and down as he tried to swallow.

“This wine is… really strong,” he said, slurring the end of his sentence slightly.

“Yeah, it is. It’s one of my favorites. Well worth the splurge. Wouldn’t it feel better if you took your pants off?”

Tiegan giggled. “Al-always-s-s.” He put the almost-empty glass down on the coffee table and unbuttoned his jeans. He stood up to step out of them and stumbled back onto the couch and laughed. “I need help,” he giggled.

I got up and pulled his sneakers off, and then slid his jeans and thong down his thighs, exposing his half-hard dick. He flopped back down on the couch, his head propped up on the armrest. I sat on the other side of the sofa and told him to touch himself. He smiled and picked his cock up in his hand.

“You l-l-like t-t-to watch,” he slurred.

“More than you could ever know,” I replied from my throat.

Tiegan began fisting his cock, which instantly hardened to a full erection as he moaned softly. “I want you to touch me,” he sighed.

“I just want you to touch yourself.”

He purred out a drunken little whine and pursed his lips into an exaggerated pout as he opened his legs. “Pretty please... will you please just finger me? It felt so good last time...”

“Sorry, I don’t have any lube. Just make yourself feel good and let me enjoy the show.”

Once again, instantly annoying.

“I don’t care about lube, I like it to burn.”

Disgust washed over me, potent and hot. I was not aroused by the sight of him masturbating, and had no intention of actually participating in this scene. After the splendor and near-holy pleasure that I’d experienced with Alex, I knew that I’d never touch another man again. Especially not Tiegan, who managed to be both too much and not nearly enough. Too blond, too slutty, too eager, too talkative. Definitely not even a watered-down version of Alex.

“I’d really rather not,” I bit off.

“Daddy-y-y,” he drooled out. “Don’t be mean to be. Fuck me with your big fingers. You can hurt me a little. Like last time. If you t-t-told me that’s-s-s what you wanted, I wouldn’t have minded. I told you that I like pain, Daddy.”

“Fine!” I snapped as I grabbed his thighs and spread them further apart until I could see his pink, bleached, shaved hole. Under my scrutiny, it puckered and winked at me like a filthy invitation. I pointed all of my fingers into a cone shape, jammed the tips of them against his entrance, and pushed as hard as I could. He cried out and began kicking his legs as my dry, latex-covered fingers breached him.

“Ahhh! That hurts! Ow! Stop!”

“Oh, what’s that? I thought you liked the burn?”

He squirmed and tried to pull away from me again. His muscles were weakened from the cocktail of drugs in the wine, however, and it made his movements ineffective and sloppy. He flailed his free leg around, knocking the wine glass off the small table and onto the floor, where it exploded into a thousand jagged shards. The noise irritated me tremendously, stoking my simmering rage like gasoline on a fire. I let go of his leg and punched him in the jaw as I kept pushing my fingers into him. Purple and red bloomed on his skin, and his mouth slobbered in pain. He tried to cry out, but his jaw was probably broken. His eyes were black and glassy, the lids blinking wildly.

“What? Is it not good for you? Am I not hitting your s-spot?” I grunted as I pushed further inside of him, his hole resisting my fist. “I fucking tried to give you a nice peaceful exit from your shithole of a life. I even roofied you and was gonna let you come one last time before you passed out, and I finished the job. But, no! You’re too much of a greedy fuckingwhore!”

I had my fingers all the way inside of him now. Tiegan jerked like a fish with a hook through its lip and batted at me weakly, clawing with his nails as his sphincter muscle ripped open around my hand. I pushed in until all I could see was the edge of the glove around my wrist. He thrashed around and screamed again as I hit his bladder, and his now-flaccid prick began to spray urine like a fountain.

“Oh, that’s just fucking perfect, isn’t it” I scolded him. “A real cherry on top of this shit-show of a day. Now we both get to be covered inyour piss!”

He was only half-conscious from the combination of the drugs and the pain when I pulled my hand out of him. It was slick and covered with blood. His anus prolapsed, and I watched as more blood spilled out of the tears in his gaping ass, sticky crimson smearing across my white couch as he struggled against the drug-induced haze to try and free himself.

“And now you’ve ruined my couch…thanks a lot.”

He tried to roll himself onto the floor. I grabbed a fistful of his hair and tossed him back. “Oh no, you don’t, not the carpet too!”

He opened his mouth to try and scream again, but I closed my hand around his throat and squeezed. His eyes bulged out as he gasped for air, and he brought his hands up around mine, trying to pry it off his throat with his fingers. By now, he was so limp from the high dose of Rohypnol, his muscles like putty, that he had no more force in his digits than a toddler.

“It didn’t have to be like this,” I told him calmly as his body began to thrash around beneath me. “I was going to make it very pleasant for you.”

I tightened my grip around his throat and his arms fell to the side as his eyes started rolling back in his head. He still kicked his legs a few times, but, after a minute, his body went completely slack, and I turned him loose.

I took a few deep breaths and allowed my pulse rate to return to normal. I walked into the kitchen and peeled the gloves off to replace them with a clean pair. I didn’t want to smear his blood all over the place. The couch was a goner, but that didn’t mean everything else in the house had to be.

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