Page 56 of Little Stranger

I stand and walk around her—she seems too engrossed in getting herself off, only pausing her hip movements when I step up behind her, parting her ass cheeks so I can watch the chain between them.

I reach forward and loosen the chain, hooking my finger through the links between her ass and moving it over one of her ass cheeks. It’s still against her cunt, but now I have access to her ass.

I spit, the saliva rolling down her back to her hole, then shake my head and walk back to the table. I grab my knife, roll my sleeve up enough to show a little tattooed skin, and cut into my flesh as she gasps.

Behind her again, I let my blood trickle down her back, spreading it all over with my palm, watching it seep into the crevasse of her ass.

My cock is pulsing, and I pull it out, stroking it a few times with a bloody fist before lining up with her ass.

She fights against the chains again, but I don’t hear her cries or moans or anything as I nudge the head of my cock into her back hole. Little by little, it grips me, and fuck, it’s tight. Tighter than her cunt. I’ve never done this before, never fucked an ass, and I assumed it would be like sliding into Olivia’s pussy.

I’m greatly mistaken. This is by far the best thing I’ve ever felt. It hurts with how narrow the tunnel of her ass is, clenching around each inch I manage to push in. She’s crying, begging me—for what, I don’t know. I’m more focused on how glorious it looks thrusting into her hole.

Blood is still trickling from my wrist, and I coat her back with it then unfasten her collar and grab her throat, fucking her while the chains rub against her pussy.

She’s shuddering in my hold, tears sliding against my hand as my blood stains her chest. Fuck, I can’t see properly, and my moans are deep, loud, husky. I think I might need to stay in her ass forever.

It’s official. I, Malachi Vize, hereby swear to be an ass man now. Forever and always, I will gratify my needs by burying my cock in my sister’s tight back hole.

Her orgasm hits, and I can feel it in her ass. It get tighter, so much so I fear my dick might get stuck or snap in half, but that’s fine. I’d gladly die here.

Do you see this, Dad? I’m buried inside my sister again, and there’s fuck all you can do to stop me.

My eyes roll to the back of my head as I fill her ass with my cum. I hold it there—deep, throbbing, pulsing each string of cum from my body—as she sobs her heart out, begging me to stop.

I lean forward and disconnect the chain, and she cries even more when I pull my cock out of her ass. I smile at my handiwork. The blood. The cum. The tears. I’m nearly finished here, and when I’m done, Olivia will swear herself to me forever.

14

Malachi

Momistryingtofucking annoy me.

First, she arranges for Olivia to have dinner with Xander. Now, she’s emailing about setting a fucking wedding date for two weeks’ time.

Maybe I should kill her. Would the wedding still go ahead if the mother of the bride had been tragically ripped apart and fed to a pack of wolves?

Knowing my family, probably.

My tarantula is crawling over my hand, and I watch him explore my scent. He’s new. I bought him a few days ago, and I think he looks exactly like Spikey, my old pet—who Mom had destroyed when I was arrested.

They killed my fucking spider, the assholes.

I still want revenge for that too, because Olivia didn’t even try to stop them—going by her journal, she didn’t do much to stick up for me, only herself. In all honesty, everything I’ve read in that fucking book pissed me off. She talks about me a lot, about how abusive I was to her, yet she liked it. She liked when I was a manipulative dick and forceful.

Then why did you testify against me, sweet Olivia?

Why tell all those people what I did to Daddy then fill my phone up with voicemails of you crying and apologizing; why search for me when I was released?

Why act like you hate me when you miss me?

I’m a hypocrite. I internally rain havoc on any warm thoughts of Olivia, but deep down, I fucking missed her too. Being separated from her was like being thrown into the sea when you can’t swim. Drowning—I was fucking drowning until I set eyes on my Olivia again.

She currently has some spider webs on her. My pet crawled all over her body until he decided to try escape from the basement and made me chase the fucker.

“Ol-ivi-a,” I mutter to myself. I try to whisper it faster and mess up. I sigh and check her phone for any new messages, but even her social media is dead.Where has your exciting life gone, sister?

The chains rattle, and I lift my gaze to see her waking up. “Ah,” I start. “Good. You awake.”

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