Don’t
@inherentvice
You’ll have to beg me in person.
I type the word ‘pls’ before my tanked brain understands his last text.
I won’t do it.
I can’t.
If I go to his house, I’ll do something I regret.
It won’t be sucking his dick like he expects. It’ll be far worse. I might just leave him in the same condition I left Ezra.
Because Rooke also touched what’s mine…and he’s threatening to do it again.
My phone rings, and ends up across the room as I hurl it away from me in shock. It carries on ringing, slightly muffled where it landed on top of Rooke’s hoodie.
Only when the ringing stops do I dare retrieve my phone. The app is still open, no new messages. But as I shuffle back to my bed, a new one appears.
Another picture.
“Jesus.” I clap a hand over my eyes, shaking my head. Compared to the previous image, it’s practically SFW.
But it’s not, because it’s Rooke, and itdoes shit to me.
A shot of his hip, a thumb dragging down the side of his gray sweatpants just low enough to expose the V in his muscles and a trail of dark pubic hair.
I swallow down bitter saliva, eyes still closed as I try to figure out if I’m going to puke again.
But it’s not nausea.
The picture of Haven he sent gave my dick ideas. It’s already hard when I crawl onto my mattress and fall down on my back. And it only gets harder when I scroll up, obscuring the last photo in favor of Haven’s.
I didn’t realize Rooke had his phone with him on Friday night.
He had the perfect view of a collared Haven from his armchair at the foot of the bed. Her legs spread, pussy on full display.
In the photo, I’m scowling as I finger her.
With her hands bound to the headboard, the fearful expression on her blindfolded face, and the way I’m pushing down on her stomach to pin her to the bed…
He’s right.
Itdoesn’t look consensual.
And of course the part of me that should be doing five to ten in a state facility can’t get over how fucking hot she looks, all tied up like that.
The part that takes out my dick. That strokes it until my eyes close, and all I can see is Haven squirming and writhing under me as I take what I’ve wanted for so many years.
I buck into my fist, wishing it was her tight cunt.
But the weed’s fucking with my mind, because the image keeps changing, flickering between what I want, and the sinister seed Rooke planted there.
Haven, thenhim.
Her writhing and whimpering in pain as I take what I want in brutal thrusts.
