Locke dark captive tale, p.20
Locke : Dark Captive Tale, page 20
“Please,” I whispered, terrified. “Please, Locke, don’t—”
“I’m not going to fucking hurt you, Kali,” he cut in, tightly. “I’m just letting you know who’s in control. That when I tell you to strip, you fucking strip. When I tell you to press your ass against my cock, you fucking do it, or this noose grows tighter.”
As if proving a point, he tugged on it once more, stealing a sudden breath from my lungs. I immediately bucked my ass out, pressing it against his hard length, appeasing him.
“Good girl,” he praised me then, and fuck me, I liked making him happy. “Now turn around, drop to your knees, and suck my cock.”
Before he could tug on that damn shirt around my throat, I dropped down to my knees immediately. I barely turned my body to face him when I felt the head of his cock demanding entrance to my mouth. I opened it, welcoming the taste of him in as he gripped my hair in a tight fist and fucked my mouth, his grunts loud, his grip in my hair so tight, it brought tears to my eyes.
Fuck, this was so dirty.
“All of it,” he demanded. “Fucking all of it, Kali, I want your walls down. Don’t fight it. Not this time. Just take me in.”
And I did.
I sensed his urgency, his need, like this was something he needed to happen that ran deeper than before. I surrendered wholly, until I was just a fucking mouth he was using to fuck, but I looked at him to see his pleasure, and I instantly regretted it.
His eyes collided with mine.
Our gazes locked.
And this wasn’t the impersonal man I thought I’d be facing.
This man was hurting so deeply, his eyes were gentle even while his cock felt angry in my mouth. The tears burning my eyes weren’t from the pain of his grip, or how deep he pushed himself down my throat, but for the hurt he was enduring.
One I was slowly beginning to understand, though I wildly resisted to protect my own emotions.
"Perfect little lion," he whispered. "Mine. All mine. Your claws, your lips, your disdain--I want it all."
He pulled out abruptly, our gaze his undoing, and he came all over my face, ropes of it coating me. Down my face, in my mouth, pooling around the forgotten shirt he’d used to strangle me.
“Come on,” he panted now. “Up, Kali, and let me take you home.”
I got up on wobbly legs and he helped me into my destroyed shirt that he used to wipe my face. I didn’t meet his eye, and I looked away when his fingers grazed my jaw in a doting way.
"Kali," he whispered, in that revering way.
I wanted to cry.
Hardly anymore words were exchanged when he led me back to his car, passing people on the street who gave us strange looks because they must have heard our little tryst. His pleasure had been loud, and I hated that they heard it because I wanted the sounds to myself to keep.
We were such a fucked-up duo.
Twenty-Nine
Kali
Confession
I’ve always wondered what sort of victim I’d be in a horror movie. I’ve watched enough old school horror movies and I know the trope: sorority girls were bitchy and bit the dust, vapid jocks followed, and minority people are pretty much fodder to the killer.
But what about a sexy black girl like me?
Come on, a killer will want to be all up in this first, right?
Well, all bullshit aside, there are those fucking idiot girls that go down to the dark basement to buy a cold beer alone, and when they hear that noise behind them, they gasp and go, “hello?” Like poking the bear type of shit right there. These bitches are so infuriating, and you scream at the screen, like, “Bitch, ‘hello?’ Fucking runnnnn.”
Well, I think—god, I can’t believe I’m saying this—but I think I’d be that dumb bitch that goes down into those dark basements alone. And you know what? I think if I heard a noise behind me, I wouldn’t be running away from danger. Oh, nay, nay. I’m the type of lunatic, crazy ass bitch that would go straight toward danger instead.
Because I’ve been there, done that.
And right now, I’ve got danger stalking the shit out of me. He wants to take me again, whatever that means. But he needs me running first. And oh, how I love to run!
This suited monster in the dark lingers in the dark like he’s become One with that bullshit.
He’s destroying me slowly. Ruining my life. He is making sure I am standing in the aftermath of a blazing fire with nothing but fading embers around me.
And despite it all, I…fuck…I cannot for the life of me get this fucker out of my head. I can’t tell you how many times I have stroked my pussy just thinking about him being in my very room, possibly touching my bed. I can’t stop wondering if he inhaled the scent of me, if he got hard doing it, if he liked how I smell, how I look, how I’ve left my fucking diary wide fucking open for him to see.
Are you reading this right now?
Can you see how insane you’ve made me?
Asshole, asshole, asshole.
I hate you.
But it’s the kind of hate that I don’t want to shake.
What have you done to me?
Do you want me this way? Do you want me wanting things I had only desired in the littlest form before? You’ve stoked a fire in me, and now I’m burning alive.
I want you to take me. I want you to cage me, make me feel like a fucking whore for you. I want you to fuck me roughly like you did before—none of that gentle touch bullshit, either. And when I tell you “no” I want you to fuck me even harder. I’ll be scared. I’ll most likely cry. I’ll probably think you’re going to kill me. But I know that’s not what you want—or else you would have done that already.
You said you’re just as hooked as I am.
So come after me then.
Be my awakening.
I’ve been dead too long.
Make me come alive.
*
Kali, due to irreconcilable differences, I will no longer be requiring your services on Sundays. This was a difficult decision that I hope you will understand. Bye *peace sign*
My shoulders slumped at Derek’s message.
Irreconcilable differences like we were getting a divorce or some shit.
This was not a welcoming thing to wake up to. Not that I slept deeply or anything. Last night was traumatizing. And I couldn’t believe the fucking man who was responsible for firing me had forced me to give him a blowjob. Yeah, “forced,” keep telling yourself that, girl. My jaw ached, but nothing was dirtier than the shame I felt, especially because shame turned to uncontrollable desire when my pussy decided to have a say in matters. This bitch was going to be the death of me.
What a mess.
Locke dropped me off in front of the apartment, and I could hardly look at him. But I had felt his gaze the entire way to the front doors, like he needed to see me disappear inside. He wouldn’t know I’d spent ten minutes in the elevator just trying to catch my breath of everything that had happened.
I was absolutely certain I would never see those kids again. I rubbed my face, groaning as I rolled over, hugging the pillow to my chest. My eyes ached as I blinked them open. Part of me wanted to cry, but I couldn’t stand to be a wussy. I just lost two jobs within twenty-four hours, but I had the payroll job, and with that position, I could keep gaining experience before applying for my PCP designation. That would open a lot of doors for me, and I could demand a bit more pay—
The smell of cologne hit me. I tensed, its familiarity causing flutters in my chest. Panicked, I sat up, wrinkling my nose as I looked around the hot room. It was exactly as I had left it: messy as hell.
And then I realized the smell was on me.
My shirt was saturated in Locke’s cologne and musk and come.
I slid out of bed, desperate to unclothe and get as far away from it as possible before my pussy did that flutter/throb bullshit again.
“Kali, you gonna need the shower, babe?” Sylvia suddenly called out, knocking on the door. “You usually rinse before work, but it’s almost 7, and I gotta get ready, too.”
Shit.
I’d massively slept in.
I had to be out the door in ten minutes to catch the bus.
I stumbled to the door, exhaustion plaguing me as I whipped it open. Sylvia grimaced at the sight of me. “What the fuck happened to you? Gross.”
I shook my head. “Nothing. I won’t have time to shower.”
She kept watching me though, scanning me head to toe, probably wondering why I was still in my come-saturated babysitter clothes. “You don’t look well, Kali.”
I tried to play it off. “A bit under the weather.”
She looked past me now, eyes widening. “What happened to your room?”
My head began to pound. I pressed a hand to it, shutting my eyes. “Uh, I haven’t cleaned it lately.”
“I’ll say.”
I turned away and stumbled to the pile of clothes on the floor. I hadn’t folded my clothes away since laundry day, and it was mixed in with some of my dirty stuff. I began searching for my jeans when she said, “Kali, what is going on with you lately?”
I really wasn’t in the mood to get grilled. I was too tired to lie. I just wanted to be left alone. “Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” she pressed. “You’re always wrecked and twitchy. It’s been a little hard being roommates with you lately because I’m constantly cleaning up after you.”
I sighed, finding my jeans. “I’ll make more of an effort, I’m sorry.”
“You’ve been off like this since the shooting at the club—”
“I’m fine, Syl.”
“I think you need to talk to someone—”
“Stop it!” I cut in, frustrated beyond belief as I turned to look at her. “I get it, okay? I understand I’ve been off, but I need you to just give me some space.”
Sylvia’s brows came together, and she looked insulted. “I’m trying to help—”
“I don’t need help—”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she retorted, gesturing to the room. “You’re living like an animal lately—you look like one, too. Something is up, and I’m trying to be a good friend, but you’re so fucking stubborn, you won’t let me in.”
“Because you don’t get it—”
“What the hell do I need to get? Just tell me!”
“I can’t!”
“I thought we were friends.”
I squeezed at my scalp. “Don’t guilt me. I’m just asking for space—”
“Be fucking careful how much space you ask for, Kali!” she growled, her bad side flaring now as she glared at me. “Like your history suggests, you might have no one left waiting.”
Triggered by her words, I stormed to my door and slammed it on her face.
“Bitch,” she cursed before stomping away.
The bathroom door slammed shut, and I was shaking. Holding back my tears, I took my clothes off, and changed into clean jeans and a light sweatshirt. There, I was in clean clothes. I couldn’t put on my make-up because they were in the bathroom, and Sylvia took long ass showers. I didn’t have time to wait around. I needed to catch my bus. I quickly used the mouthwash in the kitchen, tied my hair back, and then went to the front door. I slid my phone into my pocket, my ID and cash into my shoe and then I hurried out of there.
Thirty
Kali
Sylvia: What did you do to the rent envelope in the kitchen???
I’d barely been on the bus when she sent the text. Bumping into shoulders, I hurried to an empty seat before responding back: Nothing.
Seconds later, she was blasting my phone.
Sylvia: Kali, the envelope isn’t on the counter next to the toaster where I left it. You clearly did something to it. Fuck’s sake.
Me: Sylvia, I didn’t do anything to the envelope. Look again. Please don’t swear. I don’t want to fight with you.
Sylvia: I’ve torn the kitchen apart. The envelope I put right here last night is GONE and you were the last person in the kitchen. This is stressful because it’s MY name on the lease, not yours. Don’t lie to me, okay?
My heart raced, confusion growing as I replied: I didn’t touch it. I would never lie. I’ve never lied to you, especially about this. Do you think someone stole it? Did you have anyone over last night?
Feeling a prickle at the back of my neck, I looked up from my phone, nervously glancing around me. No one was staring at me, yet I felt like I was being watched. I looked out the window next, searching for that black car, but there was a red jeep and a taxi and no black cars.
My phone buzzed, and my heart climbed up my throat at her response.
Sylvia: I never let anyone over, and who could have stolen it, Kali? We keep our doors locked and never had any issues before now. And you HAVE lied to me. You continue to lie to me. You won’t let me in, and you’re acting crazy. You’re a fucking mess to live with, and it’s starting to feel like it might be drug related. If that’s the case, I’m giving you this one chance to return the envelope so we can pay rent when Douglas comes around tonight. If you don’t, I’ll never forgive this. It’s fucking low. We worked hard for that, and I don’t have the money to make up for it. Do the right thing, or I’m finding another roommate.
Me: Sylvia, please believe me when I say I didn’t do it. Crazy things have been happening lately, and I’m losing control of my life, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. It’s someone else, but I can’t tell you more than that, or we’d both be in danger.
Sylvia: What the fuck are you on, Kali?!
Sylvia: I’m not buying your bullshit. You have until tonight to put the rent back on the counter, and then you have a month to find another place.
I sighed.
I didn’t even feel anger. I was beyond that. I pocketed the phone, knowing with full certainty that my life was going down the shitter fast. That Locke was fucking me over one layer at a time, and I was letting him. Why? Because his cock was colours in my black and white life, and I wanted every lick of that rainbow.
This was a hard pill to swallow.
By the time I made it to work, I half-expected it to be blown to smithereens. Like maybe the bastard had nuked the shit out of it.
Surprisingly, everything was as is.
The office was on a large wealthy property, separate from the actual house Dino lived in. The office wasn’t huge or anything. It was one large room where three of us worked. Dino, my boss, was the accountant, and his side of the room was closed off by a partition wall. On the other side was the bookkeeper Theresa and me.
I dragged my shoes along the mat outside the door before entering. Dino got pissy if we dragged any debris in. Opening the door, I quietly stepped in. All the lights were on, and the fans were on full blast. I looked up to greet Theresa with a smile but found her desk by the entrance empty. I turned to look at Dino’s office space, and there he was, already on a phone call with a customer. I gave him a light wave when he looked up at me, trying not to linger on his appearance. Weird ass was dressed as a clown. Like full attire with the red button nose and all.
I just—I couldn’t even with this man.
Arriving at my desk, I immediately took a seat, ready to start my day, feeling like this was what I needed. This sort of work was stable, and I’d need to find something else to do on the side. I wasn’t going down the babysitter rabbit hole again, and maybe I could send a few messages to Derek and convince him I wasn’t a threat. I’d even tell him about my past if push came to shove.
“Kelly,” Dino called out just then just as I was logging into the account. No matter how many times I corrected my name, he continued calling me Kelly. It was obviously purposeful. Such a narc dick.
I looked up at him, swallowing another curse because what the fuck, man? His green wig looked ridiculous. “Yeah?”
“Yes,” he corrected icily.
I blinked hard. “Yes?”
“I’d like a word with you.”
“Okay.”
I got up.
Quickly running my fingers through my hair, I made sure it was tame. I crossed the small room and to his desk. By then, he’d shuffled his chair back so that I got to see the entire view of him from across the desk. I grabbed a nearby chair and situated it in front of his desk before sitting down. I was doing what I could not to look directly at him. It was just—fucking disturbing is what it was. I’d take the Batman costume any day of the week, hands down.
Clasping my hands together, I finally looked up, my gaze settling on his round blushing cheeks. He’d gone the full mile, and there we go—he began to manspread those legs, the outline of his junk on full display.
I smiled tightly. “How’s your morning, Dino?”
His red, painted on lips spread into a smile. “Good. I had to get up at 4 just to get ready.”
“Yeah, I bet. It’s…wow, it’s a lot to take in, Dino.”
“I watched some carnival docos the other day.” He let out a sharp breath. “If I wasn’t so up the asshole with this company, I’d have joined a circus.”
“Oh.”
“My father never agreed to it.”
“That’s awful.”
“He told me real men aren’t Carnies.”
“Yikes, Dino. Sorry to hear that.”
He shrugged, the sound of his rainbow striped costume stretching because it was clearly too tight on his giant gut. “He’s dead, and it is what it is. Some other life.”
“Uh-huh.” I looked away. “So, what did you want to talk about?”
“Oh, yes,” he leaned forward, his clown face turning tense. “Listen, Kelly, you’ve been really great here to get along with, and we appreciate how hard you’ve been working. Theresa admires you—”
“She’s not in.”
“I told her I’d like a word with you. Gave her the day off.”
“Oh.” Confused, I frowned. “Gave her the day off just to talk to me?”
“Yes.”
“What about?”
