Page 34 of Creep
“Strip?” she blurts. “Why the fuck do I have to strip?”
Sighing, I roll my eyes. “Do you not see the pole behind you baby? What the fuck do you think it’s there for? I can’t very well have you dancing on that pole, rolling your body to music in those fucking sweatpants. And as hot as you do look right now, your clothes don’t fit the vibe. Besides, I want them off. So. Fucking. Strip.”
She stares at me, flummoxed, as she fiddles with her fingers again. She shifts from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable. I give her a few extra seconds before I step in. I grab the remote to the surround sound, pushing play on the song I got ready while I was in here earlier. “Porn Star Dancing” by My Darkest Days blares through the speakers, shattering the silence suffocating the room. A bellow of a laugh escapes my mouth when I catch Essa’s expression to my music choice.
I keep laughing and it does nothing but piss her off more, but I’m getting tired of waiting so I stand, putting myself right in front of her. She tilts her head up to stare into my eyes, ever the brat. All of the women I have been with knew not to look up at me unless I gave them permission. I don’t have labels on what I like in my sex life. I don’t call myself a dominant, a sadist, none of that shit. I merely like what I like and I make sure all of my partners are aware. Believe it or not, but Essa is the first woman I’ve been with that didn’t start as consensual. And I say start because it sure as fuck is now. She can’t deny how bad she wants me.
Most of the women were only quick fucks and the ones that weren’t, let me use them anyway I wanted. But with her, for some fucking reason, I just don’t give a shit. I’ll take what I want and leave her absolutely fucking ruined afterwards.
I bring my hands to the hem of her sweatshirt and rip it off of her before she can protest. I’m pleasantly surprised to find her completely naked beneath, her small but perky tits jiggling as her chest rises and falls in rapid succession. I bring my hand up to her breast and run the tip of my finger over her right nipple, tracing around it in circles, never quite giving it the attention she requires.
The word she carved into her arm catches my attention, and as fucked up as it is, it turns me on. Seeing how badly she hurt herself, how desperate she is for pain, turns my cock to stone.
I bring my gaze to hers as I continue to taunt her. “Take your pants off. Now.” I bark out, but she doesn’t fucking move.Of course she doesn’t because heaven fucking forbid the little bitch listens. I just want to watch her fucking dance for me.
Glaring at her, I pinch her nipple between my fingers, and it almost turns white from the pressure of my fingers, all of the blood leaving. “I said totake your fucking pants off. Now.” The pain of my fingers must be enough to motivate her because she brings her own hands to the waistband of her sweats and pushes them down. They fall, pooling at her feet as she carefully steps out of them, trying to avoid putting any more pressure on the nipple I’m abusing.
Smirking, which is something I constantly seem to be doing when she’s around, I let go and her blood flows back to her nipple. A strangled moan leaves her lips as she absently rubs life back into her breast. My cock throbs, straining against the zipper of my jeans painfully as the tip leaks precum. Little does she know what her touching herself does to me. I drag my finger from her nipples down across her ribs, tracing each individual one easily because they protrude from her skin.
The song repeats as it ends because I have it on a loop and it reminds me to get my fucking head back in it because as soon as I watch her sweet little ass dance for me, the sooner I can fuck her within an inch of her life—literally.
Moving from her ribs, I circle my long fingers around her upper bicep and drag her to the pole, pushing her into it. She stumbles from the force of my shove so she has no choice but to grab the pole to catch herself.
“That’s it, baby. Wrap those hands around the pole, and then your legs. Fucking dance for me.” I take a seat again, sitting how I was before, my stance relaxed, or at least as relaxed as it can be with my nine inch cock making himself very well known. Adjusting myself through my jeans, I keep my eyes glued to her. She has her back turned still, so my eyes land on her peachy fucking ass. She’s wearing a black pair of cheeky underwear. They cover most of her ass, but leave the bottoms of her cheeks out, still giving me a perfect fucking view, so I’m not complaining.
I mock clearing my throat to get her attention. “I said, wrap your fucking legs around the pole, baby. Now.”
“I don’t know how to fucking dance.” She bites out as she turns around to face me, giving me a direct view of her tits. She doesn’t even bother to cover herself when she catches me blatantly staring at her. I have the sudden urge to do something irrational like cut off her fucking nipple and then sew it back on, just so I can leave another permanent scar on her body. One which insures she will never fucking forget me. Not that I would let her, but still.
“It’s not hard. Just fucking do it already. I’m fucking done waiting.” My words seem to have had some effect on her because in the next second, she’s on the floor, arms wrapped around her knees and tears streaming down her face.
What the fuck?
Shooting up from the chair, I move to her and put my hand on hers as I ask what’s wrong, but the second my hand makes contact with her, she screams and jumps away from me. What she’s going through right now is vastly similar to earlier, only less extensive. But my touch seemed to be the bucket of ice cold water she needed because the fog clears from her eyes and she seems to be back in the present.
“You finally gonna tell me what’s happening, baby doll?” I inquire, genuinely curious. I’m sure it’s some form of PTSD or something along those lines, but now it’s happened a second time and she still refuses to tell me what’s going on. I’m going to snap.
“None of your fucking business. Let’s get this over with so I can go to fucking bed and be done with all of this.”
“You’ll never be done with me, baby doll. Don’t fucking forget it.” I remind her as I take my seat again for the third fucking time, more than ready to finally get this show on the road. If she wants to act like the last five minutes never happened, then so be it for me to stop her. I don’t give a fuck about her.
Sure, keep telling yourself that.
My fingers dig into the arms of the chair, the material digging under my blunt fingernails.
Essa wraps her hands around the pole and slowly twirls herself around it, trying to get a feel for it. I sit quietly as I watch her, waiting to see if she’ll ride it like she was trying to ride my dick last night.
Fuck.
I grab the remote and turn the music volume all of the way up, blasting the song throughout the room.
She continues to twirl herself around the pole, her confidence quickly growing as she loses herself to the music. I can’t help but to watch her, transfixed on every move. She rolls her body along the pole and there is sweat beading across her skin. My tongue begs to lick it off of her as I pound into her tight little pussy while my knife digs into her breasts, blood slipping between the both of us, causing our bodies to slide together effortlessly. I reach down and adjust myself in my pants again, not caring to be discreet about it. In fact, I hope she fucking sees. I want her to know what this is doing to me.
The song begins for what is probably the twentieth time, I’m not sure as I’ve lost count, but suddenly, Essa jumps off of the pole and her tits sway slightly as she lands on the floor. Sweat covers her body and she glistens under the lights. I lick my lips as I drag my eyes down her body. She walks straight to me and stands before me with confidence oozing from her pores.
Let’s see how long this lasts before she crawls back into her shell.
She leans down and puts her hands on the armrests—right above where my fists are still clenched—her face right in front of mine. “Was it good enough for you,sir?”Her words dripped in sarcasm as she flips me a cocky grin.
