Page 24 of Property of Necro
Testing the top, I push up to see if it’ll budge.
It doesn’t.
“The asshole locked me in a tomb,” I whisper hoarsely, my throat and neck sore from being choked out not once but twice yesterday. What a way to be welcomed into this new life. For as many times as I’ve run jobs for the club, I can’t think of a single instance anyone put their hands on me like these men have. Sure, they fucked me. They all do. Sure, I got spanked in the heat of the moment and degraded a time or two, but they’ve liked me enough to show some semblance of decency.
Forcing myself not to panic or piss myself from my inability to use the bathroom, I accept what is and breathe through it. Kali would be proud. She’d give me a crystal Idon’t know crap about and talk me through the wave of helplessness. She did that a lot when I first joined the sisterhood.
And that feels like a lifetime ago…
The day I met my first Sacred Sinner, it was a chilly spring morning. I’d run from Ted, not for the first time, but lucky number seven. Knowing what worked and didn’t work from all my failed attempts, I planned my escape weeks in advance. When he went to the store for our weekly grocery run, I broke out of my locked bedroom with a knife I’d hidden under my mattress. Stealing a backpack from his closet, I threw what I could inside, then ran. For days, I traveled back roads and through the woods to get as far away from the demon as possible. I didn’t have a penny to my name, but I was determined to make this time count.
Out front of a truck stop, in the middle of nowhere, sat a big-bellied, bearded man smoking a joint. Between his legs was a shiny blue Harley. He wore a leather cut that readBlimpon the front. A skull and roses emblem adorned the back, which readSacred Sinners, Mother Chapter. I don’t know what possessed me to approach him or ask for help, but he never hesitated. One second, I was cold and alone. The next, he bought me an oversized sweatshirt and fed me a warm meal at the greasy spoon diner across the parking lot. He never asked what happened or why I needed help. He sat in the booth across from me as I ate a plate of breakfast, the first meal I’d had in days, and when I was done, he asked, “Where to?”
“Somewhere safe,” I replied.
Two weeks later, I was delivered to the sisters.
Now, I’m locked in a casket by an emotionally manipulative sadist.
Oh, how times have changed.
I sigh, and as if summoned by a guardian angel, there’s a click and the groan of metal as the casket opens.
A shiver passes through me from toe to nose as Necro comes into view wearing the same as yesterday—jeans with his bare chest and scars out on full display. Even his mask hasn’t changed. I wonder if it ever does.
Not knowing what’s next, I blink at him and remain still, not wanting a repeat of last night.
He waves for me to get up and steps back to give me space to climb out. As my bare feet touch the cold ground, he shuts the lid and pats the top.
I don’t understand.
He pats it again, firmer this time. The noise echoes through the space.
Is he asking how I slept?
Sure, I could let on that I know how to sign and speak to him that way, but I’m not laying all my cards on the table this early in the game.
“I don’t understand,” I croak, rubbing my throat.
Sighing as if I’m a nuisance, Necro grabs my shoulder, spins me so I’m facing the casket, and pushes me forward so my breasts kiss against the smooth top, my ass perched in the air.
Shucking my t-shirt up that barely covers my behind, he kicks my legs apart, and I hear the tear of a lube packet a second before two wet fingers breach my pussy.
“Fuck,” I rasp and bite my bottom lip as Necro works me open, one pump, then two. By the third, he extracts hisfingers and replaces them with the brutal slam of his pierced cock.
All the air punches out of my lungs as he screws me partway over the casket. For balance, I press my hands against the top and push my ass up for him to hit my G-spot just right. It’s been years since I’ve had a good morning screw.
Not giving a damn about their rules, I moan as he fucks me, not caring how awful my voice sounds. Closing my eyes, my legs quiver, and my clit aches as he washes the world away and replaces it with pleasure.
I bend to his will.
When he makes me come, I don’t hold back.
Screaming through the crescendo, fluid squirts from my pussy, bathing the inside of my thighs and my feet. Without touching me with anything more than his cock, Necro doesn’t stop. He fucks me harder. Longer. Deeper. Carving a path into my psyche, where sexual deviants frolic and play.
It’s heaven.
It’s hell.
