Ruthless (24 page)

T
he lids of Legend's eyes finally flutter open. And I'm leaning directly in his face when they do. He blinks a few seconds, still dazed from being knocked in his head. There's a deep gash over his eye. His arms are stretched out and bound by rope on either end of his headboard's bedposts. His legs are also spread open wide and tied at the ankles to the posts at the foot of his bed.

“Remember me?” I say real low. “I'm the bitch you heard had niggas begging for this throat. And now I'm about to become the bitch that has
you
begging for your life.”

His eyes widen, confusion and shock, then realization swimming in his pupils. His body jerks, tightening the ropes around his wrists and ankles as he tries to break free.

“Where you think you're going, boo?” I jeer, lightly running the tip of my blade in my hand over his left nipple. “You all mine tonight, sweetie. And I have a special night planned just for you. I'm going to give
you
what you gave me. Remember?” I lick my lips. “Mmm. I can't wait to tear that throat up. Let's see who the slutty cum-slut is after I'm done with you.”

He tries to speak, but everything comes out garbled. A black leather ball gag is strapped tightly in his mouth. He grunts and growls.

I grab him roughly by his face, digging my nails into his cheeks.
“Bitch,” I hiss, bringing my face inches from his, my eyes narrowing to slits. “
Shut
the fuck
up
! You have
no
fucking idea what you and the rest of them grimy niggas did to me down in that basement.” I can smell the liquor and weed seeping from his panic-stricken pores. “But tonight, you're going to find out. And to ensure you do…” I let go of his face, stepping away from him. I quickly glance over at Lamar as I grab the leather case at the foot of the bed. My gaze shifts back to Legend. “I brought along some party favors to make the night memorable for the both of us.”

He lifts his head. His eyes shift from me to the case, then over at Lamar, then down at his body. Fear floods his pupils when he finally realizes he's stretched out butt-naked, his long dick limply resting over his huge, hairy balls.

I unzip the case, then slowly pull out his treats—one at a time. I wave a chocolate-colored, ten-inch dildo in the air. “I brought you some cock, boo. A party ain't a party unless I can run hard cock all up in you.”

Legend grunts, wildly shaking his head, his eyes pleading. He's sweating now. The veins in his neck are bulging.

I glare at him, then cock my head to the side. “You want to know why I'm letting you see what I look like, don't you?” He blinks. “See. Unlike you pussy-ass niggas hiding your faces behind masks, I want you to see me when I fuck your whole world up, like you did mine. You and the rest of them dirty niggas sexually tortured me when you motherfuckers kept me locked down in the basement tied up. So I'm going to give you a little taste of what torture really is.”

I smirk, pulling out a Taser. “And this is for when I need to zap your balls.” I grab at his balls, motioning with the Taser as if I'm about to put the heat to them. “I should Tase these big motherfuckers right now.”

His body wriggles helplessly on the bed.

Next comes the blowtorch, then the bolt cutters. Finally, I pull out a nine-tailed flogger. Barbed wire is attached to the tails. Frantically, Legend tries to flail his arms and legs, each time the ropes cutting into his circulation.

I drag the Cat O' Nine Tails along his left leg, then his right leg; the sharply pointed barbs clawing into his skin. He writhes, groans loudly. A sadistic grin eases over my lips as I run my hand up along the shin of his leg, then over his muscular thigh.

“If you haven't figured it out, yet, I'm going to slowly torture you, dirty sonofabitch…you piece of shit, until you beg me to kill you. You let Jasper get you caught in a fire that didn't have shit to do with you.”

I drag my finger along the frame of his body until I'm back at his side again. I shift my body, swing my hand all the way back, then slap the shit out of him. His head snaps to the left. “You really thought you could put your motherfucking hands on me…” I slap the other side of his face. “Thought you could ram your dick in my neck…” I slap him again. “And get away with it. Didn't you?”

He tries to speak.

“Nigga, save your breath. No one can hear you. You fucked with the wrong bitch, sweetie.” I slide my hand over his stomach, then allow it to linger down over his cock. “You have no idea how long I've waited for this day. How long I have prayed for this day.” I cup his balls, then gently squeeze. “Mmmm. These big balls.” I start rubbing them seductively. “You remember when I tried to bite these big motherfuckers off, don't you, boo?”

I have the nigga spooked.
Good!

He grunts, his chest heaving.

“Oh, don't worry. I'm not going to bite them off. Oh, no…” His eyes frenziedly follow me as I walk to the foot of the bed and pull
out a scalpel from the case. I hold the sharp instrument up for him to see, pointing it at his groin. “I'm going to slice them off. Then feed them to your boy, Jasper.”

His eyelids snap open and close. He rapidly shakes his head.

I glance at my watch. Its 4:20 a.m. I'm consciously aware that I must administer his dose of justice before dawn.

“Yes, nigga. I
am
going to castrate you.” He bucks and thrashes, shaking the headboard. “Oh, don't worry. I've read up on it and watched several videos on how to properly gut your nut sac. The whole process is much the same as castrating a bull or pig. So, you”—I drag the scalpel up the bottom of his right sole, slicing open his foot—“are going to be gutted like the dirty pig motherfucker you.” His body lunges forward in pain. “Then I'm going to sauté your balls.”

I walk back over to him, placing the scalpel beside him and picking up the switchblade. I press a gloved finger in the center of the ball. “Shhh. No need to fight it, boo. It's just you and me, no one else. So you might as well relax and enjoy. If not, I'm going to take the fuck what I want.” I flip the blade open, then press the tip of it into his nipple until I draw blood. He flinches. “Isn't that what you said to me the night you came down into that basement and tormented me, beat me, threatened my life, then forced your dick into my mouth? You take what the fuck you want, right? Isn't that what you said?”

He groans and thrashes, causing the ropes to cut deeper into his skin.

“You wanna live,
bitch?”
He grunts, nodding his head. He reminds me of a Bobblehead. “Then stop trying to break loose. You're not going anywhere.”

I can tell Lamar is getting impatient. If he had his way, he'd
already have a bullet in Legend's head and we'd be on our way. He doesn't say anything. But I can see it in his eyes, willing me to hurry the hell up. He wants me to rush what I've waited, for what seems like forever, to finally do. No. I'm not rushing shit, for him or anyone else.

I have at least an hour and fifteen minutes before sunrise. And I plan on using every damn minute, every fucking second, of it in a slow, sweet, torturous way, all in the name of psychological warfare.

I look over at Lamar. He's standing, gun in right hand, face expressionless. But there's a glint of amusement in his eyes.

I pull out a bottle of Masterjack men's massage lotion.

“See, nigga. Because I'm so forgiving, I'm not going to just fuck you up. I'm going to make sure you get a sweet release, first, before I punish you for what you did to me. I'm going to give you the best and the
worst
handjob of your life.”

I squirt a generous amount of the lotion all over his cock and balls. Something delightfully frightening stirs inside my pussy as I take his meaty dick in my hand and begin massaging it.

As much as he tries to fight it, tries to struggle against it, his dick has a mind of its own. And in deep, languid strokes it gives into the slippery sensations as I bring it to life. Legend writhes and groans, his toes opening and closing.

“Yeah, big-dick motherfucker.” I quicken my strokes to match the sudden throb between my legs. He grunts. I bite down on my tongue. His eyes flutter. Mine narrow to slits. His cock thickens and stretches and pulses in my hand. My clit aches.

“All this big juicy dick and you want to go around stuffing it into bitches' mouths, huh? You like raping bitches, huh?” He shakes his head. His eyes widening as I yank his balls. “Lies! That's what
you did when you forced me to open my mouth, so you could fuck your dick into my mouth.
You
sexually assaulted me, nigga.”

Against his will, his hips begin to thrust as I stroke him. He shuts his eyes tight. Throws his head back. A muffled growl emits from the back of his throat. I reach for the bottle, squirt more lotion over his cock, then resume stroking him with one hand, gliding over the head of his dick, teasing it, while taking my free hand and massaging his balls, rolling them around. He flinches. His eyes pop over.

I smirk. “Relax. I'm not going to bring it to your balls, yet.”

He looks over at Lamar as if he's going to save him. “Muhfucka, don't be lookin' over here at me. She's the one who won't let me body ya worthless ass.”

I inch my finger near his asshole. His head snaps back in my direction. His hips lift off the bed as he attempts to clench his ass cheeks shut. I wedge my finger inside, then ram it into his hole.

Whatever pleas for help or mercy he's making come out mangled and choked. His groans sound like a wounded bear as I stroke his cock and finger-fuck him in his ass.

“C'mon, boo,” I taunt, swirling my hand over the head of his dick, “bust this big dick for Deep Throat Diva. That's what they call me, nigga. The bitch that sucks a nigga crazy.” I ram another gloved finger into his ass. My anger rises like bile. “The bitch you told to either suck, ‘or you gonna die tonight, ho,' remember that?”

He grunts. Horror washes over his face as I force a third finger into his manhole. “Dirty motherfucker, how does it feel to be violated, huh? You like it, huh?”

More pained grunts, more anguished groans. His dick gets harder. I stroke it faster. “Yeah, pussy-nigga, rapist, no-good sonofabitch… let me see you bust that nut…you want me to wrap my slutty lips
around the head of this dick, don't you, nigga…? You want some of this deep neck, huh…?”

Another muffled growl pushes out from the back of his throat. My pussy juices, overheats. His manhole heats and swallows in my fingers. Legend groans and lolls his head back. He squeezes his eyelids shut. Pressing back tears of what I hope are of embarrassment, of violation, of degradation. Ramming my fingers in and out, my own tears begin to surface.

“This is only a piece of what it feels like to be violated, nigga. I am no way near done with you.”

He's sweating. I'm sweating. My knuckles rub the rim of his hole. The nigga's eyes snap open, glossed and practically crossed. Seconds later, his body thrusts. His legs shake. A thread of stringy precum drips out of his dick-slit. His slippery dick becomes harder than the proverbial rock. I egg him on. Goad him. Edging him to an unwanted orgasm.

His head rocks back and forth. He is growling, growling, growling. I have the nigga in a glazed frenzy as I rapidly stroke his dick, finger-fucking into his ass, hitting his prostate each time. He makes a strangled noise. His body convulses.

My pussy is tingling and twitching. I have to fight back my own whorish urge to lean in and swallow down his dick, milk it into my throat. I can feel it. He's on the verge of exploding. Vibrating waves shoot up his swelling dick as my fingers continue to stroke his spot.

Another growl, his body thrashing, ropes slicing deeper into his flesh, a gusher of thick, white nut bursts out of his slit, launching into the air, then splattering down on his shoulders, his chest, his stomach, his face.

“Yeah, motherfucker, bust that dick milk…give me all that hot
nut, nigga…mmmm, that's right…get it all out…because this will be the last nut you ever bust…”

I keep stroking his dick and fingering his ass, talking dirty, calling him names. His dick explodes again, spurting out a rope of creamy nut that hits the ceiling, then over his shoulder, his abs, then finally spilling over my gloved hand. I pull my fingers out of his ass. Legend looks like he's ready to pass out.

I press my ass-scented gloved fingertips over his nose. “You smell that, nigga?” He grunts, trying to jerk his head away. I grab his face with my cum-coated hand. “Stay still and sniff, motherfucker!” I roughly push my fingers all up in his nose. “That's the scent of a nigga who's about to get fucked real deep…”

I smear his nut over his face, then reach for the flogger. “Now it's time to really get this party started…” He thrashes and bucks, his head snapping from side to side as I bring the flogger down over his cock and balls; the barbs clawing into his prized possessions. Lash after lash, I remind him of everything he ever said down in that basement to me. I remind him of how he choked and punched me. Remind him of the pain he caused me. “Motherfucker, you're going to regret the day you pulled your dick out on me!”

His bloodshot eyes plead incessantly.

Lash after lash, the barbs bite into his thighs, his groin, and his stomach, shredding and ripping into him, drawing blood, inflicting pain. By the time I'm done with this nigga, every day for the rest of his life, every time he drops his drawers, he'll be forever reminded of what he'd done to me.

When I am satisfied with my flogging, I reach for the Taser as his head lolls backward, forward, then over to the left. He's drunk with pain. His dick and balls are bloody and stripped raw. I light fire to his scrotum with one zap of the Taser, causing his head to snap back and his eyes to pop open as if he's possessed.