Page 93 of Ashes of Sin and Stardust

That made her cry. She tried to spit them out, but I used another piece of rope to tie around her face so they would stay in place.

“Shut the fuck up while I do this for you, okay slut?” I said to her, stroking her face as I spoke. I caught one of her tears on my finger and set it in my mouth.

Her eyes dropped to the evidence of my arousal and she slowly met my eyes again. I stood there, daring her to look back down, but she closed her eyes and then turned away, her tears coming more readily now.

“I don’t get it, Savannah,” I muttered as I threaded the rope through the holes I’d drilled in the swing, tying strong secure knots to keep them in place. “You’re a fucking slut who keeps coming back to me for more of my bullshit, and I’d bet my next paycheck it’s making you wet. Do you get wet down there for me, bitch? Do you touch yourself at night thinking about the shit I do to you?”

She shook her head desperately, but her cheeks were bright pink.

“Bullshit, I bet you do. You like it too much. You can’t even look me in the eye and tell me you don’t like it.”

She let out a small whine of embarrassment, and it made it that much harder to focus on a fucking swing instead of on the girl in front of me, because most of the blood in my body was in my dick by now.

“I bet you’d like it if I did even worse, huh? I bet you’d like it if I touched you. You want me to touch you there, baby?”

I didn’t even think about calling her baby. It just happened. But she was my baby. My stupid, shy, humiliated baby who was the only person who had ever paid attention to me, who wasn’t intimidated by my size or my ugly looks, who kept coming back for more even when I was a total asshole to her. She was my baby, and I liked it that way.

I finished the final knot in her swing, and then grabbed my knife, stalking towards her. She saw the knife and whimpered in fear.

“Youlikeall the mean things I do to you, don’t you? Youwantme to touch you, don’t you?” I traced the knife across her cheek and over her lips, but I made sure the sharp part was facing me. Because if I cut her, or hurt her, God knows I’d never be able to play with her again. Her parents would put a stop to it, and she might be upset enough to stop coming back for more. And without her, my life would go back to the same grey and boring torture it was before.

I needed her. And I needed her to need me.

I trailed the dull end of the knife down her neck, between her breasts, and down her belly, watching as her breathing increased and her tears came more steadily. Right as I got to her hips, I pulled the knife away, and leaned into her, pushing my hips against hers and grinding on her.

She felt amazing. Soft and warm and curved in all the right places.

I cut the ropes holding her in place and pulled my dirty socks out of her mouth. They were soaked with spit, and I glared at them before scoffing at her. “Fucking whore,” I muttered, and dropped the knife and the socks on the ground.

I turned away from her and sat in the swing I’d just finished. She stood there, shaking and confused, and probably angry as hell. I expected her to turn away and run home like she normally did after we played. But this time, she steadied herself, approached me, and climbed onto the swing with me, placing her bottom right in my lap and holding onto the ropes.

Together, we worked ourselves high into the sky.

Savannah and I continuedour games in the woods out of the watchful eye of her mother, but I suspected that her mother knew what was going on. There was only so much you could do to keep a seventeen-year-old from experimenting, and she knew her daughter had a crush on the bad boy next door. I made it a point to ignore Savannah and act like a total asshole to her whenever her mother was around, but I don’t think she believed me.

One day, while I tied Savannah’s wrists together and she pretended to try to get away, I grabbed her by the throat, holding her still. I didn’t squeeze, but she froze under my touch, eyes wide and filled with fear.

“Are you telling your mom about us?”

“No way, Ben!” she said. “She’d never let me go outside again if she knew!”

“You need to get better at lying. If your parents find out you’re in love with me, they’ll put a stop to our games.”

She blushed, dropped her head into her shoulder, and wouldn’t look at me again for a long time. I lifted her bound wrists above her head and tied them to a branch above her head, blindfolded her with a tie I’d stolen from my dad’s room, and played with her breasts until she blushed and whimpered. Then I jacked off at her feet while I knotted my fingers into her hair, making her listen to me get off at her feet.

Our games continued and no one was the wiser, until one day I went too far.

I had Savannah tied to a tree trunk in the middle of the woods, her hands by her side, the rope wrapped around and around her body so she couldn’t wiggle around. I was humiliating her horribly for the shirt she was wearing, because she’d unbuttoned an extra button on her blouse to get my attention. She didn’t even have decent cleavage, which gave me even more fuel for her.

“Look at me, Savannah.” She refused, closing her eyes and tilting her head so her face was pointed down. I took her by the chin, forced her to meet my eyes, and then slapped her across her cheek.

It wasn’t that hard, not really. But I was a lot bigger than her, and she was pale and tiny. Her eyes watered and she let out a soft cry, and she finally met my gaze, those sweet tears rolling down her cheeks. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

But a few moments after I hit her, I watched as her skin darkened on the spot I’d slapped. Darker and darker, until a dark red handprint appeared on her face.

My blood ran cold, the fun instantly over. I knew if her parents saw that, I was fucked. “Oh, no,” I whispered, brushing my fingers across her cheek. “Stay here. Don’t... fuck. Don’t call out, okay baby? I’ll be right back.”

“Ben, wait–”

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