Page 21 of Creep
I contemplate his proposal for a second. I don’t trust him. But then again, I don’t trust a soul, not even my own. But he did say it is a pub, meaning I wouldn’t be alone with whoever this guy is. Plus it will actually be fucking warm inside. I could warm up and maybe sleep for more than an hour at a time.
The man backs up and I move to stand to my full height, five foot eleven at the age of fourteen. My height has definitely helped me out while being a runaway. People don’t tend to question someone my size with a beard too often, but it does happen, much to my fucking annoyance.
He turns around and walks down the alley, expecting me to follow, so I do, keeping myself a few paces behind him. He rounds the corner and pulls open a door with a sign hanging above that says, “Leo’s Pub”.
I walk through and heed the few people scattered about. “Rockstar” by Nickelback plays through the speakers at a surprisingly comfortable level. I’m not sure what time it is, but gathering the lack of people, it’s either really early or really late.
The guy walks in behind me saying, “Go ahead and find somewhere to get comfortable. I’ll be at the pub.” He walks past me to the bar and takes a seat, ordering a whiskey.
Damn, I want one of those. It would definitely help me sleep. Pushing the thought away knowing it’s not an option, I make my way to the corner of the room and take a seat in a booth. I rest my back against the wall so I can keep my eyes on everyone around me. I refuse to let my guard down one bit despite the fact a stranger is choosing to help a random street kid. Trusting people is how you get fucked over and hurt. I’m not stupid enough to make that decision again.
No one pays me any mind and because of it, I find myself slowly closing my eyes, succumbing to the exhaustion which has been begging to pull my body under.
I absently rub my arm where my poppy tattoo is at the thought of my mother and all the shit I went through because of her. I know heroin is derived from the latex found in its unripe seed capsule, but the poppy itself is still a representation of many things, especially for me.
It’s a reminder to myself to never succumb to drugs or to that lifestyle. But, also, it’s ironically in memory of my mother. I say ironically because a poppy was her favorite flower and yet she died from a heroin overdose.
We pull into her high school parking lot and I eventually pull into a space after looking for an open one for over ten minutes. I slam my door as I exit, then round the car to wait for her. We walk into the building together, and she’s still strangely quiet. I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her into me.
“Better wipe the grimace off your face, baby doll. I have no problem taking you into that bathroom and beating your ass so bloody, you won’t be able to sit in the chair you need to be in to get your diploma. You think your ass hurts now?” I whisper, running my mouth along the shell of her ear. “That’s nothing.” She stiffens against me, her eyes roaming the room, but doesn't pull away.Smart girl.
Plastering on a fake smile, she tilts her head up to stare into my eyes. “Oh please, like you would do something like that in a public place, with all of these people.”
Yep, scratch that. She’s most definitely not a smart girl.I guess she’s about to learn her lesson in underestimating me and thinking I give a single shit about anyone or even where the fuck we are.
I grip her shoulders harder against me and steer us towards the bathroom on the other side of the room. I feel her resistance as she pushes her heels into the floor, trying to halt my advance, but I’m fucking determined now.
“You’ve really gotta stop underestimating me, baby doll. You really think I give a shit about being in a high school? About being surrounded by people? That’s your first fucking mistake. Second, you’re about to see about how much I don’t fucking care. As a matter of fact, let them hear your fucking screams. Go ahead. I want them to know who fucking owns you. Tell them who you’re screaming for.”
I shove the door to the unisex bathroom open. Pushing her in, I slam the door behind us and flick the lock. Facing her, I grab her shoulders and spin her around, shoving her face into the cold, white brick wall. I yank her dress up around her hips and rip a hole in her fishnets to give myself easier access to her underwear. I yank on her panties until I feel them give way. Bringing them up to my face, I see a wet spot gracing the middle of her panties and smirk.Little fucking bitch is wet for me.I feel my dick stretch against the zipper of my slacks and I groan.
I shove her underwear in front of her face. “Look how wet you are for me, baby doll. Why’s that?” I taunt, licking the back of her neck. “You’re wet for me and you fucking love it. You may hate me, hell, you even hate yourself, but you can’t make your body hate what I do to you. My little fucking masochist.All. Mine.” I shove her underwear in her mouth, causing a whimper to escape her lips before it’s muffled.
I grab her hips, pulling them back against me until she’s bent at a ninety degree angle, her face still pressed against the wall. I take a step back and admire the view. Her plump ass is still red and her fishnets crisscross over her cheeks. I push my fist into my mouth and bite on my knuckles. This girl does have a fantastic fucking ass.
Her ass still has welts across it from my lashings earlier and it makes me crack a grin around my fist. This is gonna hurt like a bitch. Without further ado, I swing my hand down across her ass, instantly leaving a bright red handprint, mixing with the others covering her ass. My hand tingles from the force.
She screams, though the sound is muffled greatly by her panties shoved in her mouth. I smack her ass two more times before stepping up right against her. The heat radiating from her ass seeps into my slacks and my dick jumps, desperate to be inside of her pussy.
Not yet, but soon.
So fucking soon.
I grab her hair and yank her head up until her entire back is pressed against my front. I snake my arm around her and shove it between her legs. I’m greeted instantly by wetness coating both of her thighs. I groan, my eyes rolling into the back of my head. I sweep my hand up through her wetness, coating my fingers. With my other, I yank the underwear from her mouth and shove my fingers covered in her arousal into her mouth.
“Fucking taste how wet you are for me baby. All I did was beat your ass like the naughty girl you are and you’re dripping for me.For me. For what I do to you.Suck.” She immediately wraps her lips around my fingers and sucks, hard.
“Fuuuuck.” A groan leaves my throat and my dick pushes against the zipper of my slacks to the point it’s painful. Essa keeps sucking, her tongue swirling around the tips. I yank my fingers from her mouth and wipe my hand across her cheek, covering it in her own spit.
“I have fucking told you time and time again I don’t fuck around, Essa. I have no problem teaching you a lesson, no matter where the hell we are.” I pull her dress back down, skimming the tips of my fingers along her skin and spin her around. I lean down to grab her panties and shove them into my pocket.
“Let’s go. I want to get this shit over with.” With that, she walks ahead of me and out the door with her head held high, exuding confidence, but her cheeks are flushed and her legs shake slightly with every step she takes.
I follow her out and we make our way to the chairs in the center of the room. She takes a seat in her assigned ‘Monroe’ chair and I hand her the phone I promised I would.
“Don’t be stupid with it. Do you understand me?” She grabs it, peering up at me when I don’t let go.
“Yes, sir.” She turns away but I don’t miss the roll of her eyes as she says it.
