“Hmmm.” He holds the knife next to the silicone length. “What makes your pussy wetter? A big green dick, or a knife to your throat? Maybe both?”
“Please, I don’t want this.” My voice cracks as I shake my head wildly, my hair sticking to my heated cheeks, a cauldron of emotions bubbling up inside me. “Leave, and I won’t report you. I promise. I haven’t seen your face!”
A snorting laugh this time as he presses the tip of the toy to his mouth, his tongue darting out to flick at the tip.
“Fuck,yeah. That’s how sweet Cindy Lou is for her Grinch master. Here, you taste, tell me I’m wrong.”
He pushes the tip toward my mouth, the knife coming along for the ride in the other hand, the sharp metal scraping along my jawbone as he runs the toy along my bottom lip.
“Lick it,” he orders as waves of shame course through my veins.
This is wrong. So why am I getting so wet? I feel it seeping out of me. Is he a deranged fan? Is that what this is?
I was sure no one could track me down from my author name and the bit of information I shared in my bio on the site, but God, I should know if someone wants to find you, they will.
The Grinch mask is horribly realistic, the flesh around his mouth moving as he speaks and breathes, the red knit cap on top adding a deranged cheerfulness to the façade.
“Do it,” he snaps as I stay frozen, the tip of the blade dragging down my cheek to poke just under the corner of my jaw against my pulse point, where blood hammers against the cool metal.
I extend my tongue, tears stinging my lids as I take a slow lap at the tip, tasting my own pleasure chastising myself because I should have known nothing good could come from buying a Grinch cock shaped sex toy.
“That’s a good little Cindy Lou.” He draws the knife away, moving it to the top of my head and tapping it there, just like the Grinch patted the little girl in the book.
Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion as I lick and then suck the silicone phallus between my lips, drawing it over my tongue before realizing he’s moving the knife down my chest then pulsing the toy deeper down my throat.
“Now, this is just a warm-up. You’re making my dick hard, and that, my little Whoville angel, is going to be the package I’m stuffing up your sloppy little Christmas chimney.”
Tears run in rivers down my cheeks as the tip of the dildo presses between my tonsils, making me gurgle and gag, my fingers curling into fists as he withdraws it only for a second before pushing it back in.
I’m trying to breathe, but the toy is blocking my windpipe, the knife poking at the top of the oversized Montana State t-shirt I put on when I got home earlier, and my traitorous nipples tingle and harden.
Why is my body betraying me? This man could kill me. He’s clearly unstable and dangerous. And yet my core is fluttering and aching in a way that must make me as demented as this stranger forcing a Grinch vibrator down my throat.
My belly turns sour as he withdraws the silicone dick from my mouth, fisting it at his crotch as he hooks the tip of the knife under the neckline of my shirt and pulls forward and down.
I yelp as the tearing sound mixes with my pounding pulse in my ears.
“Let me see those tits, Cindy Lou. What have you been hiding from Santy?” He cuts the t-shirt down to the hem then draws the knife back staring at me.
Saliva drips from my lower lip in warm droplets on my sternum as I stare into his mask, my heart racing like a jackrabbit behind my ribs. I squeeze my eyes shut for a second before my trembling fingertips dance on the edges of the cut fabric, easing it open, the cool air chilling my exposed flesh.
Another wave of heat moves through me as this maniac lets out a low groan, then a long exhale.
When I open my eyes, he’s staring at my tits, the dildo still held out in front of his groin like a bizarre cartoon weapon, the knife frozen in midair in his closed fist.
“Wait until you see what therealGrinch is packing for you. The real thing makes this look like exactly what it is…a fucking toy.” He cocks his arm back, launching the dildo like a glowing green cock rocket across my bedroom.
It slams into the wall next to the window and falls silent on the top of my desk.
“Just leave.” I summon all my bravery, pushing the knife away as he holds it in the air between us. “I know Krav Maga.” Lie. “You might leave with your head still attached to your neck if you backout of here now and go back to whatever asylum you escaped from.”
He shakes his head. “Cute, little Cindy Lou, when you threaten me, it only makes my dick harder. Our Christmas Eve adventure is just getting started. I’m not going anywhere. And from the smell of your cunt, you don’t want me to.”
I’m learning things about myself right now that I am not proud of.
“You’re not going to get away with this. I saw you in town, and so did my family. Someone will figure out who you are.”
He nods, poking the blade right on the tip of my hardened nipple. I wince and squeeze my legs together, not from pain but because it sends a rush of liquid betrayal out of me, soaking into the sheet.
