Page 92 of Ashes of Sin and Stardust

She tentatively reached her hand back out towards my offering, and I felt my lips twist as I lifted my empty hand and took her wrist, holding it in midair. The piece of food still sat in my other hand, in between us, like a challenge.

She looked at it, blushed, and then slowly leaned forward, opening her lips, and pulling it into her mouth. She looked so scared that I would slap her again.

I tightened my grip on her wrist, squeezing just a little more before I let her go. Her eyes widened at the sensation and she pulled back. Then I bit off another piece of my sandwich, took another sip of lemonade, and ignored her.

She was quiet for a few moments, watching me eat, before she whispered, “Ben, can I have another bite?”

I ignored her for a few minutes, but she stayed still, staring at me, waiting for an answer. I had a particularly cruel idea, and decided I had no reason not to act on it. After all, Savannah kept coming back for more of my torture; who was to say this would be too far?

I bit another piece of my sandwich off, chewed it a few times, then removed the bite from my mouth, and held it out to her. Her face wrinkled in disgust and she stared at me in discomfort, but I didn’t back down.

She can get up and leave if she wants to. I’m not going to shove it in her face.

Awkwardly, she leaned forward, and took my half-chewed, spit-soaked bite between her teeth, and swallowed it.

I smiled, but I tried to hide it. I knew any inch I gave her would just encourage her. But part of me wanted her to keep coming back. Because if I didn’t have her to torture, what would I do all day?

I had nearly finished my sandwich when she asked again. “Can I have the last bite, Ben? I’m so hungry.”

Spoiled little brat can’t help but take it,I thought.What a bitch. What a weak, silly little cunt.Without looking at her, I popped the last piece of my crust in my mouth, chewing it thoughtfully. I heard her sigh in defeat, and she turned to look at the lake, dejected in my refusal.

Then I reached over and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her towards me, and crushed my mouth to hers.

She froze, uncomfortable and scared, but then after a moment she began to kiss me. I shoved my tongue in her mouth and she gasped in surprise, and I spat the half-chewed piece of crust from my mouth to hers.

She scrambled back in shock, her mouth half open, the food still on the tip of her tongue, like she didn’t know what to do with it. I smirked at her. “You said you were hungry.”

She stood and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she backed up. I found myself jumping to my feet and going after her, and I put both hands on either side of her face, holding her right in front of me.

“You fucking asked for it, now swallow it.”

She did and blushed again.

I released her with one hand, and found the fly of my jeans, unzipping it and reaching into my boxers to stroke the throbbing erection I’d gotten from watching her humiliation. When she realized what I was doing, she stammered, her eyes darting back and forth between my hand and my face. She turned and ran.

She looked back once, just in time to watch me come.

Our games got darkerafter that. A few more months went by, and she continued to come by the bar. I eventually dropped out of High School because it was a moot point to even waste my time attending by now. None of my teachers liked me anyway. I slept during the day and worked during the night, and Savannah came by in the afternoons. Sometimes she brought the horrible vegan oatmeal cookies her mom made.

One day I got tired of it and dragged her by the wrist into my mom’s kitchen, and showed her how to make chocolate chip cookies with butter, eggs, brown sugar, and white flour. She sighed and giggled when she bit into the hot heaven of the cookies, and it was only then that I remembered the allergies her mother claimed she had.

“Oh shit, Savannah. I didn’t think... oh fuck.”

“I’m not allergic to anything,” she said, and she put a hand on my shoulder to calm me down. “My mom believes eggs and dairy and gluten are bad for me, so she doesn’t let me eat them.”

“Fucking hell, what a bitch,” I muttered.

She dropped her eyes. “She’s not that bad.”

“If you ever want real food...”

“I know where to find you.” She finished her cookie, stretched up on her tiptoes, and kissed me on the cheek. “Goodnight, Ben.” Then she took another cookie and skipped away, leaving me openmouthed and confused as hell with a huge fucking mess in the kitchen.

The way she disarmed me so easily made me feel like I’d lost control of the situation, so I got mean after that. When she followed me into the woods, I went too fast for her to follow so she’d have to call after me in desperation. When I told her I wanted to show her something, I grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to our destination, usually showing her nothing of interest. Sometimes I drank a ton of water on purpose so I’d have to take a piss, and unzip myself in front of her, shamelessly letting loose directly in front of her so she’d be forced to either watch, or turn away.

One afternoon, she asked me to build her a tree swing. I asked her why her daddy didn’t do it, but she said her mom was worried she would hurt herself. I went out to the store and got a slab of wood and some rope, and hung a swing on our property out of sight of her house, so she could swing whenever she wanted to.

She decided talking my ear off while I worked on it was a good idea. The obvious solution was to tie her to the damn tree and gag her to shut her up, so that’s what I did. I took the spare piece that I’d cut off from the bundle I’d bought and wrapped it around her waist, tying her to the trunk of the tree. She blushed as I did so, letting me tie her without fighting. Then I kicked my shoes off and shoved my socks in her mouth.

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