Page 90 of Devious Delusions

She’s always more lightheaded after her ass has been fucked so it doesn’t take long for her to fall limp. It’s one of the reasons she loves it so much. I slowly pull out of her, looking down and watching my cum slip out of her ass.

Perfection.

I lift her off the bed and delicately place her over my shoulder as I whistle and massage the back of her thighs. Her arms dangle and sway as I carry her out of the room, and I don’t bother covering her since we’re still playing.

40

DELILAH

Iblink into darkness with the smell of wet earth clinging to me. My shoulders are numb. So are my arms as they hang above me like a dead weight. The ceiling is only a foot above my face and silvery light filters through the cracks. It’s not enough to allow me to see fully and I whip my head to each side to determine where I am.

My legs are free, and I’m laid on my back in a wood-paneled box, but there’s something tickling my back and I’m naked. It must be two feet wide and only a little longer than I am because my toes touch the bottom of it. Chains rattle around the box as I tug my arms to free them from the cold metal wrapped around my wrists, and the clinking echoes, making me wince. A heavy thud hits the roof. Little flakes of debris slip through the cracks and the voice is one I recognize as the thud comes again.

“Knock. Knock.”

Ghost.

The twisted cunt has locked me in some kind of fucking torture chamber, and I close my eyes to push the anger out of my voice.

“Let me go.”

He laughs and I attempt to appeal to the crazy bastard’s sense of self-preservation as I talk through the planks.

“Ghost, please. The police will be coming because of what you did. They won’t just ignore it. Asher’s family is?—”

“Important?” he finishes for me before his voice moves closer. The thin streams of light are shadowed by what I’m assuming is his stupid fucking head as he says, “I know all about his family, koukla mou. Better than you do.”

If I keep him talking, he might not kill me, so I do that and ignore the fact that I’m not panicking like I should be.

“Okay, tell me. They’re private and I never knew much about them.”

The wood above me creaks as he gently taps his knuckles in a pattern of two. “Did he ever tell you about the tale of two faces?” he asks around a sigh. “Not just mention it. Did he really tell you?”

“No, why don’t you tell me?”

The talkativeness continues as I try to slip my hand free from the restraints, wincing at each clink of the chains.

“Well, there was a secretive family, and they would have done anything to protect their sins, but if I tell you the full tale, I’ll definitely have to kill you.” I freeze at the blasé way he says it and stare at the spot above my head like I can see through it. “Well, let’s just say it was a tradition. One that you ruined and now one part of the mirror is missing.”

There’s another creak and more light streams through the cracks as his booted steps move further away. Stopping at the bottom of the box I’m in, he raps his knuckles against the wood twice as he says, “Knock. Knock.”

I don’t understand his obsession with a fucking knock-knock joke. The weird cunt. His voice turns innocent and childlike as he says the corresponding part.

“Who’s there?”

The freak does both parts, and his voice drops as he menacingly says, “Delilah.”

“Delilah who?” he asks himself in the childlike voice.

“Delilah, who’s going to change your life.”

Cold, damp air floods into the box as the panel brushing my feet is pried off. The wood splinters and there’s enough light to see what the fuck I’m lying on. The soil beneath me is covered in bugs, beetles, worms, fucking spiders. They’re all there, touching me, and I scream.

Ghost’s voice is sharp like a whip as he slams his hand on top of the box. “Shut the fuck up.”

I kick and it pushes some of the insect-ridden soil by my feet out of the hole he’s created. His fingers wrap around my ankle, and I quickly change my mind, choosing the safety of the insect-lined coffin over whatever the fuck he’s planned. But he grabs my other ankle and my back scrapes against the box as I’m dragged down to the opening. The chains rattle and my shoulders burn from the harsh movement, but the chains don’t allow me to leave fully as they’re pulled taut when I’m halfway down it.

My legs are in the open air, and I kick out, attempting to reach the ground but my feet scrape something rough, bark-like. I tilt my head, looking down my body to see where I am, and Ghost’s usual outfit of black fills the full expanse of the hole he’s made until he holds my calf and lifts my leg. I continue kicking to free myself and all I can see is shadowed bark. We’re in the middle of the trees. This is what he’s been doing all this time. Building his creepy fucking chamber.

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