“Jesus, how the hell does he put up with your mouth? I’m gonna shut you up now girl.”
I grip my reddened cheek as my body quivers in the corner of the wall where I’ve backed myself. My naked back is pressing against the cold, damp wall; my butt is rubbing itself raw on the old stained mattress without a sheet. There’s nowhere else for me to go. I’m trapped in the oncoming wrath of Snake. My eyes widen as he pulls a rope from the floor. I kick and scream, but my strength is no match for his. I’m thrown onto my stomach, and my hands are bound so tightly that my arms threaten to pull from their sockets. He pushes my knees up and underneath me, locking me in place. I read somewhere that if you’re quiet and don’t fight it that it will make things like this easier, and the attacker will get bored. The last thing I want to do is give this piece of shit any kind of response, but when he slams into my ass with no warning, I scream out in excruciating pain as tears drop immediately from my eyes. I can’t bottle the cries, and this just encourages him to rip through me even harder. It burns, and I can feel my flesh being torn. His hands wrap into my hair, yanking so hard that my body feels as if it might split in two. My cries become muffled groans from my throat being overworked by my blood curdling screams. He’s shouting his release and calling me every name there is, and I’m praying he doesn’t want a round two.
“Fuckin’ dumb bitch; thank f**k I wore a condom, or that nasty ass blood of yours would’ve been all over my dick.” He chuckles, and the sound of his voice puts a fear in me I’ve never known existed.
A door slams, and I fall over onto my side sobbing as I feel the blood dripping down my backside. I thank god for my moment of silence and peace, but it’s shortly lived as the door opens and Snake reenters the room.
“Sit up bitch; it’s story time.”
I don’t move. I can’t and he knows this; he just wants to play games with me.
“There once were a couple of guys who were the best of buddies. They did everything together. They ate together, f**ked together, partied together, and even started an MC together. One buddy started phasing out the other, and soon things started going to shit. He didn’t trust his buddy anymore. You know why? All because he f**ked his girlfriend. It was just a piece of ass. He could’ve gotten any ass he wanted, but he was still pissed off his buddy f**ked his girl. The club voted him out, cutting all the ties. The buddy that got voted out went under a painful tattoo removal process with a scalpel. That process damaged a nerve in his back. He couldn’t get it up for ten years, and when he finally could, he f**ked everything that could walk and thus a son was born. He was so determined to do right by his boy that he started his own MC named the Gunners because he promised himself he would be gunning for every motherfucker that wronged him and his future family. His old MC was living large. Everything right at their feet as his name was entirely forgotten about and all over pu**y. Hell, it wasn’t even great pu**y. It was just okay pu**y. One day, the exiled buddy ran into his old buddy. They shot the shit for a while, and the exiled buddy was pleased to find out the old buddy had a family. A son. The exiled buddy then stalked and kidnapped that son and started his revenge. It was shortly lived as someone interrupted his revenge. He did get one swipe in though. He almost gutted that teenage boy.”
I gasp. He’s the one that gave Braxxon the scar across his chest.
“Ah, the bitch recognizes this scar, yeah? Good, you’re somewhat on track. Let’s continue. The exiled buddy never told his old MC he had a son, and he formed a plan. He used his own son to infiltrate the old MC. But it wasn’t just his son that did this. The exiled one also had a daughter he didn’t know about. I believe you met both of them. In fact, my daughter is the one who got you here. You know Christina?”
That f**king bitch. Even through my pain, I’m boiling with anger.
“I’m sure you’re smart enough to realize that I’m the exiled one and the long, lost daddy she wanted to please. But bet you still don’t know who my son is. Well, let’s cut the suspense shall we. Son you can come in now,” he says jerking my body towards the door.
“PP,” I croak.
Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. This is so much worse than I’d thought.
“She’s all yours, son.” Snake chuckles, patting PP on the back before shutting the door behind him.
“Did I ever f**king tell you I hate that f**king name? I mean seriously, how non-creative could a person actually be,” he says with a voice filled with hate.
I can’t believe my eyes right now. This person helped me so much over the past week. A person I was starting to like. I realize now I should have stuck with my original assessment of him being a f**king pervert.
“You ready to play, Angel?”
Bile rises in my throat, and I gulp it back, refusing to let him see me upset. He called me Angel and that sickens me. He’s doing it purposely.
“My good ol’ daddy told me he already took your ass and since I don’t wanna get my dick bit off that leaves only one hole. I do wish I could feel you bare, but my dad is going on and on about DNA, blah, blah, blah.” He chuckles.
I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry.
I wish I could pretend this was a nightmare, but nightmares don’t leave you sore and in so much pain.
“Up you get,” he growls, pulling me off the bed and standing me up. He reaches for a meat hook hanging from the ceiling of this basement room. I don’t dare look at him; I avert my eyes to the small rectangular window. He bends my bound hands and arms above my head forcing them to pop even more. My head drops to the floor as I grit my teeth from the pain in my shoulder blades.
I grip my reddened cheek as my body quivers in the corner of the wall where I’ve backed myself. My naked back is pressing against the cold, damp wall; my butt is rubbing itself raw on the old stained mattress without a sheet. There’s nowhere else for me to go. I’m trapped in the oncoming wrath of Snake. My eyes widen as he pulls a rope from the floor. I kick and scream, but my strength is no match for his. I’m thrown onto my stomach, and my hands are bound so tightly that my arms threaten to pull from their sockets. He pushes my knees up and underneath me, locking me in place. I read somewhere that if you’re quiet and don’t fight it that it will make things like this easier, and the attacker will get bored. The last thing I want to do is give this piece of shit any kind of response, but when he slams into my ass with no warning, I scream out in excruciating pain as tears drop immediately from my eyes. I can’t bottle the cries, and this just encourages him to rip through me even harder. It burns, and I can feel my flesh being torn. His hands wrap into my hair, yanking so hard that my body feels as if it might split in two. My cries become muffled groans from my throat being overworked by my blood curdling screams. He’s shouting his release and calling me every name there is, and I’m praying he doesn’t want a round two.
“Fuckin’ dumb bitch; thank f**k I wore a condom, or that nasty ass blood of yours would’ve been all over my dick.” He chuckles, and the sound of his voice puts a fear in me I’ve never known existed.
A door slams, and I fall over onto my side sobbing as I feel the blood dripping down my backside. I thank god for my moment of silence and peace, but it’s shortly lived as the door opens and Snake reenters the room.
“Sit up bitch; it’s story time.”
I don’t move. I can’t and he knows this; he just wants to play games with me.
“There once were a couple of guys who were the best of buddies. They did everything together. They ate together, f**ked together, partied together, and even started an MC together. One buddy started phasing out the other, and soon things started going to shit. He didn’t trust his buddy anymore. You know why? All because he f**ked his girlfriend. It was just a piece of ass. He could’ve gotten any ass he wanted, but he was still pissed off his buddy f**ked his girl. The club voted him out, cutting all the ties. The buddy that got voted out went under a painful tattoo removal process with a scalpel. That process damaged a nerve in his back. He couldn’t get it up for ten years, and when he finally could, he f**ked everything that could walk and thus a son was born. He was so determined to do right by his boy that he started his own MC named the Gunners because he promised himself he would be gunning for every motherfucker that wronged him and his future family. His old MC was living large. Everything right at their feet as his name was entirely forgotten about and all over pu**y. Hell, it wasn’t even great pu**y. It was just okay pu**y. One day, the exiled buddy ran into his old buddy. They shot the shit for a while, and the exiled buddy was pleased to find out the old buddy had a family. A son. The exiled buddy then stalked and kidnapped that son and started his revenge. It was shortly lived as someone interrupted his revenge. He did get one swipe in though. He almost gutted that teenage boy.”
I gasp. He’s the one that gave Braxxon the scar across his chest.
“Ah, the bitch recognizes this scar, yeah? Good, you’re somewhat on track. Let’s continue. The exiled buddy never told his old MC he had a son, and he formed a plan. He used his own son to infiltrate the old MC. But it wasn’t just his son that did this. The exiled one also had a daughter he didn’t know about. I believe you met both of them. In fact, my daughter is the one who got you here. You know Christina?”
That f**king bitch. Even through my pain, I’m boiling with anger.
“I’m sure you’re smart enough to realize that I’m the exiled one and the long, lost daddy she wanted to please. But bet you still don’t know who my son is. Well, let’s cut the suspense shall we. Son you can come in now,” he says jerking my body towards the door.
“PP,” I croak.
Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. This is so much worse than I’d thought.
“She’s all yours, son.” Snake chuckles, patting PP on the back before shutting the door behind him.
“Did I ever f**king tell you I hate that f**king name? I mean seriously, how non-creative could a person actually be,” he says with a voice filled with hate.
I can’t believe my eyes right now. This person helped me so much over the past week. A person I was starting to like. I realize now I should have stuck with my original assessment of him being a f**king pervert.
“You ready to play, Angel?”
Bile rises in my throat, and I gulp it back, refusing to let him see me upset. He called me Angel and that sickens me. He’s doing it purposely.
“My good ol’ daddy told me he already took your ass and since I don’t wanna get my dick bit off that leaves only one hole. I do wish I could feel you bare, but my dad is going on and on about DNA, blah, blah, blah.” He chuckles.
I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry.
I wish I could pretend this was a nightmare, but nightmares don’t leave you sore and in so much pain.
“Up you get,” he growls, pulling me off the bed and standing me up. He reaches for a meat hook hanging from the ceiling of this basement room. I don’t dare look at him; I avert my eyes to the small rectangular window. He bends my bound hands and arms above my head forcing them to pop even more. My head drops to the floor as I grit my teeth from the pain in my shoulder blades.
