Page 33 of Volatile Waters

Suggestively, I grabbed my dick. “I bet you do.” Her eyes closed as she looked away, almost as if feeling ill. “Open your eyes.”

When she did, I finger-gestured for her to come to me. With a blank, almost dead expression, she did. I held my wet hand out for the bottle. After reading the label, I told her, “Only two,” and handed it back to her. “I don’t want you to try and overdose.”

Standing before me, she sneered while opening the bottle and popping two pills in her palm. “Who would ever want to kill themselves instead of spending the evening with you?”

Those words sliced a nerve I didn’t know was exposed. With blinding speed, I grabbed the nape of her neck and jerked her close. Leftover cum rubbed from her chest to mine. “Be careful, or you will anger me before training even begins.”

Face to face, I could see tears flood her eyes. “Training?”

“You didn’t think I was going to let you go, did you?”

Her terrified, panting breath brushed across my lips. “Please?”

“Your ride has only just begun.” Her brown eyes started to slide shut again, so I jerked my fingers in her hair. “Did I give you permission to close your eyes?”

Rainbow’s jaw locked. “No.”

“No, what?”

She refused to speak, her eyes defiant, so I pinched her nipple. After a squeal, and a hand blocking any further attack but not breaking free of my hold, she replied, “No, sir.”

“Master.”

She winced but gave me what I wanted. “Master.”

“Good, Pet. Now, open your mouth.” I glared at her until she obeyed. Her tongue was exposed as I pulled her head back by her hair and guided it under the streaming water so she could fill her mouth. After pulling her head out from the water, I tapped her hand. She popped the two pills in her mouth. “Swallow.” After she gulped them down, I pulled her whole body in the shower with me, pill bottle and all. Putting her back to my stomach, I reached around her hips. “Spread your legs.” I knew she didn’t want to be one but loved that she was already a better student. It didn’t bother me that we had to fuck obedience into her.

Cupping her sore core, I spoke into her ear. “One of the worst parts of being my pet is coming on command.” Her body stiffened. “I just fucked you against your will, but I still didn’t make you mine.” I rubbed two fingers against her nub, knowing it would respond, no matter how much she hated me.

After a few moments, I slipped a finger inside her. The moisture spoke of her own betrayal. “There. See? She wants me,” I cooed, positive the sound of my voice was like rubbing her skin against a cheese grater.

She shook her head, trying to gain control I was denying, always would. Her voice now trembled for other reasons than fear. “P-Please stop.”

“I love to hear you beg.”

She fought it, but soon she was panting, her head hanging forward. “I-I don’t want to do this.”

My touch became more vigorous. “Because fucking you is nowhere near as bad as me making your body perform for me.” With her so close to her orgasm, I said, “Your body is listening to me now, not you.” My hand expertly sent her over the edge, against her will, robbing her of so much more than another sexual experience. “Now, it belongs to me.” As she came on my hand, she shed tears of regret and shame.

Before she could even recover, I pushed her out of my shower. “There’s a bed on the floor. Be sure to find it and stay out of mine.” She stumbled to the counter. Not facing me, she held up the bottle by her slumped shoulders, needing permission to leave it. Already, she was learning more. “Leave it in the box.” Her hand lowered as she tiredly nodded before leaving the bathroom.

A towel was wrapped around my damp, naked waist as I exited the bathroom, leftover steam filling the cold air in the bedroom. I had stayed under the hot spray of water until I could barely stand any longer. In America, my stabbing, killing an innocent, and grudge-fucking my new pet had sucked me dry. The only thing I desired at this point was my mattress, not the distant sniffling.

Teeter-tottering whether to go to sleep or get pissed, I turned on a nightstand lamp. “Harry, it is late. Can you please cry tomorrow?” He didn’t answer, nor was he in his chair, so I walked around my bed to see him sitting on the floor, in the corner, with Rainbow, naked, lying limp over the thighs of his stretched-out legs. “Fuck!” I raced to him and dropped to my knees, clamping my palms over her bloody wrist, her inner thighs…

This nurse knew she needed to slit her jugulars and major arteries to create the greatest damage. Blood soaked the carpet, me, and Junior.

Rainbow’s eyes were open, her head facing the young man, but she was far from him now. Her empty stare told me so. I roared, “Why didn’t you call for me?”

Affectionately, his bloodied hand wiped at her hair. “Sh-She…”

“Are you cut?” I grabbed at his hands, quick to examine him.

Harry cried, “No. No. It’s hers.” His eyes were full of confusion and sorrow. “What did you say to her?”

I blinked. “What?” I had never been asked to be responsible for my words by anyone except Mrs. Fucking Thompson, who was still haunting me from across the world. It somehow seemed ironic her son was now asking the same.

“Sh-She…”

“Fucking speak, Harry!”

“I think she wanted me to let her die! Every time I tried to help her, she stopped me!” Gasping for air and reason, his chest heaved.“What happened to her? Why is she hurt?” He stared at the scalpel on the carpet, lying next to us. “She kept handing it to me, wanting me to cut myself.” His terrified stare found mine again. “But I can’t. I—” He started shaking his head “no” as if headed for a mental breakdown.

I laid my hand on his shoulder. “Junior. Tell me.”

His breaths were uneven as if his lungs were seizing. “I couldn’t do what she wanted… because I made Timothy a promise.” Tears and heartbreak burst from this kid. He was holding his second dead body in a matter of days. “I must find Little T! I don’t want to fail him!” On the brink of hysterics, Harry wailed, all while petting Rainbow’s bloody hair. “Timothy is dead, and I have to find her!”

The naked woman in his lap, her blood, snot dripping from his nose, and his utter distress had memories of my murdered mother pelting me and my still forming conscience. Harry was beyond distraught, just like I had been the night that doorbell rang. Harry was young, unbelievably sheltered, considering his upbringing. It made me feel compelled to help him, as I wished someone had helped me the night I found my mother’s naked, butchered body. So, I got up and went to my cellphone on the nightstand, and texted Kirill and Adrian.

Returning to Harry, I began to pull the corpse from his legs. His hands gripped but lost purchase, due to me coldly insisting he let go. He asked me to stop, but I kept dragging her across the room. “Learn to let go, Junior.”

Holding the sides of his head as if to prevent an explosion in his mind, he cried, “Let go of what? I don’t even know her name! Do you?”

My Rainbow’s body stilled as I realized I’d indirectly caused a death, not even knowing the name of the dead body. I remembered Mrs. Thompson in the SUV, in my lap, telling me, “And you don’t even know my name.” In our line of work, names were obsolete. By Junior’s expression, that was a horrid fact that disgusted him.

The young man I had forced to join me in Russia, Harry Thompson Junior, began to mature right before my eyes. His hands rubbed down his face, aging with every passing second. “You said I’m here to learn, to be trained.” His voice lowered as he shifted into manhood with only one unwavering mental step. “To become like you.” His blue eyes filled with determination and promise of future wisdom as they glared at me. “I won’t. I refuse to ever be as cold as you. I have no idea what happened to you, and I don’t think I want to know what made you like this.” He gestured to the dead hand in mine. “But that? You? I will never be.” He rose from the floor, lifting his chin with an admirable might. “I may be no match for you now, so I will train, but I promise to save some young girl someday to make up for all this.” He pointed to Rainbow, who no longer shined with the colors of life. “For all your destructive, reaper ways.”

Time stood still for me as another promise he would later fulfill was made.