Collateral Damage

C H A P T E R 35

TWISTED DREAMS

Puppet

Play - ‘Nervous - The Neighbourhood’

“ G ood girl Puppet. Spread your petals for me.” Her warmth invades my skin, wet lips smothering my stomach with hunger worse than a starved man, knocking down my foundations until I am a pile of rubble and concrete. She lowers her hand between my thighs until my hips buckle, choking on my dignity, clutching to my sliver of sanity as the Monster feeds, sucking out the piece of me until there is no ME left -

My eyes burst open, glaring at the ceiling in complete disgust, rubbing my thighs together feeling slick heat between my lips.

“What were you dreaming about?” My upper body shoots up, sitting on my elbows in panic as she’s slumped back in the chair, fingers tracing her mouth and I gulp on instinct, imagining how soft they were against my skin.

“Jesus Hayden! You scared me!” I chase my heartbeat, handling my chest like it’s injured.

“Don’t avoid the question, Puppet .” My bottom lip disappears as I pull it into my mouth, desperately trying to push those images out of my mind.

“I wasn’t…”

“Liar.”

“I can’t remember.” It's like she’s purposely trying to tease my imagination, sitting in a tight tank top that accentuates her defined muscles beneath that I can’t seem to stop glaring at. Her trousers hang low on her waist in the seat exposing the V line that travels up underneath the indented fabric of her top.

“Don’t lie to me, Innocence .” She knows. Please don’t tell me I was making noises in my sleep.

“Why were you watching me sleep?” I want to move. Cover myself from her dirty glare that’s stripping me of all my Innocence, feeling entirely too vulnerable in my little white shorts and crop top that feel entirely too tight around my body but it’s because they are stuck to my skin and I’m sure my nipples are pinching the fabric right now.

“It’s fascinating. Listening to your soft whimpers.” I beg for the floor to swallow me whole, tucking my hair behind my ear as I look out the window so she can’t see the deceit in my face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I can't see her, but she stands slowly in my peripheral vision, stalking towards me as my blood runs cold. I’m trying to focus on anything but her looming in my direction, my cheeks betraying me as they sting with blush.

“Yes. You do.” The mattress moves, subtly lowering my feet as she mounts the bed. “It’s ok. You can tell me,” her body encapsulates my legs beneath her, crawling up the bed towards me and all my oxygen fleas from my lungs in fear, terrified to turn my head.

“Why the sudden loss of words, Little Dreamer ?” My flower is pulsating, aching to be watered. This pain is crippling me. “Tell me…”

She whispers to me, leaning into my ear, trapping me against the bed frame as she removes the duvet from underneath us, letting a gust of cold wind to pass through before sliding her knee between my thighs agonisingly slowly. My mouth betrays me, letting a timid sigh of arousal bless her ear, fighting this whirlwind inside of me to break the silence.

…

“You...” Her searing lips engrave my skin, rubbing them gently underneath my earlobe and I realise we haven't been this close since she revealed her devastatingly handsome face to me.

“I what Princess ? Use your words.” Everyday I’m finding it harder to fight her, to resist her. She makes me want to commit the worst kind of sin.

Fornication .

“Touched me…” I choke out quietly, feeling almost ashamed. I have never touched myself. I’ve never understood it or felt a need to explore it. Fornication. Sex . It's always been a myth to me. Something people indulge in out of boredom, but as she sits between my legs, I realise it’s much more than that. It’s intimacy. Lust. Submission . The way I submitted to her in the woods. That same feeling is throbbing against her knee.

“Where. Show me.” I shudder against her mouth as she entices me with faint kisses around my throat. Building up the courage to move my hand, I trail the tips of my fingers between my centre line until I'm hovering over my pelvis, too scared to take that next step.

“What did I touch you with?” Her whispers are sending me crazy. I’m holding onto my dignity, afraid to let her hear me but my hand finds hers, craving to feel what my dream opened up to me.

“You’ve never touched yourself. Have you.” I'm nineteen and I'm embarrassed to say I've never been intimate with myself, let alone someone else. But something most likely naive inside of me is telling me I can trust her. I shake my head, rubbing against her cheekbone. She knew I was lying about my body count. She can read me better than I can read myself. Ripping out my pages to keep as souvenirs. “That ache you feel? It means you need to touch it. To relieve it. Can you do that for me?”

My nod is a miss match of yes’s and no’s. I don’t know what I’m doing. This is ridiculous. But this need . This pounding between my legs is taking control of me like a second heart leaving my mind dormant.

I finally find the courage to drop my fingers lower, until I find the lining of my knickers, already damp with heat and the sensation scrunches my face.

“Good Girl, Alora… ” Her words are like venom, paralysing me, crushing my heart and lungs as her hand creeps over mine.“Then what did I do?” There is barely any space between us as she pins me down with her very existence.

“You- You made it feel, good .” Her hand guides mine, gently rubbing my fingers in circular motion against the saturation, digging for my songs but I exhale through my nose.

It’s there. That feeling. That lust that bucks my hips into her, grasping to that sensation ripping down my walls.

“Like this?...” I could drown in this , letting it collapse my lungs. I’m cracking. I confirm this pleasure between my legs as I nod my head in approval, too nervous to speak.

“Open your mouth Puppet . Let me hear you.”

Her cologne rubs at my nose. Her smell, her voice, her demons. They have all found refuge inside my heart.

My mouth parts, releasing months of unknowing relief and I feel her cheek move mine as she grins, continuing to teach me this hollow addiction growing inside of me. Soon to take me by force.

I twitch like a rabbit as our fingers mould between the crease of my lips. I’m terrified to venture further but my panties are soaked and I want to rip them off.

“Not so innocent now are we Love . So wet for me .” For her . I am. She’s becoming my bone marrow. An essential part of my body needed to function. My strings needed to move. My oxygen tank needed to breathe.

I’m her plaything .

Her dolly .

Hers.

She slides the fabric to the side exposing me and I hitch with sudden embarrassment, feeling my wetness slick against my fingers as I touch it without consent. Soft. Warm. Swollen velvet.

“You feel that?” She whispers so gently it makes my muscles spasm as she applies pressure to the back of my fingers, running rings around my clit, nibbling on the tender part of my neck with temptation before pushing the palm of my hand down against my sensitive spot, curving my fingers as she dips me inside myself.“Is that what you felt, Puppet ?” My head is ringing, pins and needles are attacking every nerve in my body. Yes. Yes, this is exactly what I felt.

“Ye-s…” She pushes once more, revelling in these waves crashing into my body and I feel disgusting, but I also feel relieved until she removes my fingers, slowly pulling them towards my mouth. We have not looked at each other once and I think that was purely to keep my confidence but when she pulls away, analysing the redness in my cheeks, the sweat building around my hairline and my fuzzy eyes, my confidence dissipates, sucking in her accomplishment as I lay here, depraved. Deprived. And hungry for release, eating me from the inside now totally fragile and humiliated.

“Why- Why did you stop?” She presses my tainted fingers against my bottom lip, parting instinctively, like they belong there, pushing them inside my mouth to taste myself and I internally scowl at how sinful this is.

“When you’re ready.” Her eyes are glued to my mouth, inhaling like she’s envious, grazing her bottom lip through her teeth before taking my hand and licking between my fingers as she hugs them with the fork of her tongue, never breaking this eye contact that kills me. My stomach swells watching her intensely as she tastes me, how gentle her warmth is against my skin as she cleans up my mess. Her eyes quiver, like I'm the most delightful thing she's put in her mouth and it's so warm and mellow that my heart is not the only thing fluttering.

She’s right. I don’t know if I am ready. I don’t know what the hell just happened but I feel violated. Unfulfilled and unsatisfied. How do I know when I'm ready? Ready for what? All I can think about is this throbbing between my thighs, calling out to me.

“Coffee?” Coffee ? She lifts herself up off the bed, acting totally nonchalant and I don't know if I’m relieved, so we can pretend this never happened. Or annoyed. Did that mean anything to her?

She kept her word. She still hasn’t touched me and it’s bringing out this girl inside of me that I don't even know. Immoral acts of desire begin to plague my mind, imagining all the ways I want her to have me until I shake them off, closing my legs back up and sinking into the duvet. She’s a mockery and I'm so irritated, lying here staring at the ceiling as she exits the room with a grin so playful I may just entertain it.