Page 44 of Property of Necro
“What did you do?” Rot demands as he storms into the kitchen.
I don’t have time for his shit.
Throwing the useless wad of paper towels in the trash, I skirt by him. Rot tries to grab my arm to stop me, but I shrug him off in search of the one thing that’ll screw my head on straight.
I find her sitting in the chapel by herself. Tiffany.
Marching right up to my guest, I don’t give her a chance to ask questions when I drag her past Necro up to the altar. The same place we welcomed Sola. The same place we welcome them all. I don’t bother with lighting candles or using any of the bullshit we’ve done before. Tiffany doesn’t deserve to be decorated with any of my jewelry.
Picking her up beneath her ass, I set her on the altar and force her to lie down.
Necro joins me a moment later, a brow raised in question.What are you doing?he signs.
Ignoring him, I unfasten my pants, pull this new bitch to the end of the altar, shuck up her black skirt, push her scrap of fabric she considers panties to the side, and welcome myself home.
She moans like a good whore.
She begs for more cock.
I look down at her pussy, and the red hair is gone.
Goddammit!
A frustrated growl rips from my throat as I yankTiffany down and bend her over the aged wood to screw her from behind, so I don’t have to look at her hairless pussy.
“I was a child bride.”Sola’s sweet voice bangs around in my skull.
They took her, and they hurt her, and they married her off. I watched the video a dozen times. I saw her face. I heard it all.
My cock goes limp.
It just dies inside this… whore.
Shame spirals through me like a tornado as I step back and stare down at my useless appendage, wet and red, but goddamn floppy.
I thrust my hands through my hair, tip my head back, and roar.
This isn’t how it’s supposed to be!
They made me take the pills.
Always the blue pills.
For years and years. The old ladies from church. The ones who took me in when my father died. They said they’d take good care of me. They promised they’d be the mothers I never had. The four wenches who lived together abused a young boy for years until they got caught when I told my teacher, and I was placed in foster care. That wasn’t much better. The first house. What a joke. The second couldn’t handle me either.
I look over to Necro and find Rot standing beside him with Sola, blood on her neck and leg, watching me with the gentlest green eyes—the color of grass.
I don’t realize tears are streaming down my face until she comes to me, and I fall to my knees. Offering mekindness I don’t deserve, Sola’s fingers sift through my hair as I hug her, pressing my face to her soft belly, soaking her shirt in anguish.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Why am I like this?
My shaky fingers dig into the meat of her bare ass.
The sweet perfume of her cunt curls up my nostrils, and my mouth waters. Sliding my face down, I nudge the edge of her t-shirt up with my nose and stuff my face against her sex. Audibly inhaling, I get high off her scent and groan.
Damn.
