Chapter 2~
For just a brief moment, he holds me against his chest; our breathing syncing as we both come down from the high. His forehead rests against the back of my head as he gently slides his fingers down my wretched curves.
I feel myself tense as reality catches up with me and I start retreating back into myself.
Tugging a little, I signal for him to release my wrists. He slowly does, holding his other hand across my dreaded stomach so I don’t fall face-first. Once satisfied that I’m stable, he moves his hand to join the other in massaging my wrists and hands, helping to get the circulation moving again.
My body is still trembling but I force myself to shift on my knees as they scream against the hard ground. After a few seconds, he releases my arms and I feel his heat disappear from behind me. The humid air mixes with the sweat on my skin and I”m silently thankful when a gentle breeze decides to blow under the canopy.
I hear the rustling of leaves and twigs as he cleans himself up and puts his cock back in his pants. Knowing I need to get out of here, I scramble to stand, momentarily forgetting that my pants are still around my ankles. I get caught up in them and start to pitch forward but his large, warm hand reaches out and saves me. “Woah there. Here, let me help you up. I also brought some supplies for aftercare…”
I’m already shaking my head as embarrassment and shame set in. Awkwardly, I shuffle out of his hold; bringing up my soaked jeans as I go. Once they’re secured over most of my flab, I tightly wrap the remains of my shirt across my front and fold my arms. I don’t bother with the dirt or debris right now. I’ll rinse off in the shower before immersing myself in a bubble bath.
Turning towards him, I see that he”s already put back together and he”s assessing me with his head tilted to the side. I don’t need pleasantries. I’m just the big girl he found on the app to explore fantasies with. One of hundreds, I’m sure, based on how forking amazing he was.
I thrust my hand out to pass him back his glove. Almost hesitantly, he reaches out and takes the glove. Though his expressions are mostly hidden under the mask, it appears that he isn’t sure what to say now.
Clearing my throat, I dart my eyes around and smile gently. “Th-thank you, but, I don’t need aftercare. Um-”
“Every sub needs aftercare,” He says vehemently. I can tell he’s scowling by the lines around his eyes and the dip of his beanie.
Shaking my head, I suck in a deep breath and put on my best smile. “I’m good. Promise.”
We stand there awkwardly for a beat. Then, I smile again and move to turn away.
“Can I see you again?” His blurted question catches me completely off-guard and I know it shows all over my face.
“Uh, um, like, you want to play again? I mean, sure. If you really want to. But, you don’t have to. It was…fun.” I say with a shy smile and start backing away towards the bridge that will lead me to the parking lot.
I see his eyes pull down as if he’s confused by my answer. “Of course, I want to see you again. But, it doesn’t have to be a scene. We could…” He coughs and clears his throat, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck. “Like, have dinner or something.”
“Wh-what?” I’m frozen in place as I try to figure out his real intentions.
“Well, we’ve been messaging on the app for a few weeks now and we know that, um, this type of stuff syncs up. I’d really like to hang out. Get to know you.” He shrugs a shoulder innocently; like he’s nervous about asking me. It’s kinda cute, actually. He’s screwing with me. Or maybe this is his first time meeting someone on the app, and he thinks he has to offer more.
“Um. I don’t really have time for stuff like that. I know this was a scene for you and just a kink to explore. And, you don’t have to worry about protecting my feelings; that’s kind of what the app is for.” I shrug with a half smile.
I’m not that girl. I’m not the one guys go after. I’m the good friend, the wing-woman, or the little sister. I am utterly ordinary and have more flab than guys like. Which is precisely why I searched dozens of apps before deciding that, the one E met through, fit my needs perfectly. Apparently, some guys like to explore plus-size kinks, without the embarrassing social norms. So, they get to play out a fantasy, and I get a release. Ok, a full release barely happens but, hey, sometimes a woman just wants to be touched and desired, dang it. I got a full release today, though.
Shaking my head to prevent myself from grinning like a fool, I quickly add, “Anyways, thank you, again. And, if you want to play again, let me know.” I don’t give him a chance to respond as I turn on my heel and make my way back through the forest. I don’t need him feeding me any crap just to make himself feel better for living out a fantasy, then chunking deuce. Big girls may be great friends, but sometimes we need more than toys to play with. After all, that’s the whole reason I joined the app.
I found the app a year ago and have matched with a couple of guys. They do full background checks on every member. Additionally, members have to post the location, date, and time into the app for the other person to consent to. This allows the site to have a paper trail in case something goes sideways. Plus, they require extensive medical checks before and after each meeting.
My rules are front-and-center on my profile bio so there’s no confusion.
One of us has to wear a mask.
No kissing.
No real names.
No humiliation about my weight.
No sharing personal information outside of kink/scene ideas.
I cringe a little realizing that I let him kiss me. I was so lost in the euphoria of the orgasm and my reaction to his body was instantaneous. That man is dangerous in his own right. Tall, sexy, those dang arms, piercings, and tattoos. Good gracious. He’s exactly the type of guy I’d fall hopelessly for and end up with my heart ripped to shreds. I’ve already lived through that enough in my life and I’m no longer interested in all that mess. Besides, I don’t need a man to complicate my life. I have a routine, my snakes, and my books. That’s all I need. Mmm-hmm. If you say so.
A few minutes later, I exit the forest and quickly cross the parking lot to my SUV. The eeriness of this place in the dark is starting to set in, and I’m getting legitimately spooked. Unlocking my SUV, I throw the door open and jump in, hitting the lock button as soon as the door closes. Then, I jam the key into the ignition and start the car.
As I throw it in reverse, I search my surroundings and my eyes latch onto the man standing at the opening of the forest trail. His head is tilted, almost creepily, and I can feel his eyes boring into me. My whole body tightens as it thinks about how he felt against me, inside me. Goosebumps scatter across my arms, pulling me out of my reverie. With a half-wave, I pull out of the spot and head out of the almost empty parking lot.
The State Park usually clears out by dusk, but it doesn’t actually close until 10:00 pm; which worked perfectly for tonight’s little meeting.
Another minute passes before I hit my first stop light, allowing me to find a song to play. I didn’t want to sit in the creepy lot at night and search for a song. I’ve seen enough horror movies to know that’s just dumb.
Pulling up my UnWind Playlist in YouTube Music, I click on shuffle and let the power of music do its thing. Boy Problems by Aston plays through the speakers in my car and my smile grows across my face. I reach over to the passenger seat, swipe the Medusa tee I stashed there earlier, and change out of my destroyed top.
Once the light turns green, I begin shouting the lyrics of the song into the air. I let it filter through my veins, allowing me to regain my balance. It should also help with the sub-drop that I’m sure I’ll experience after today’s scene. But, at least I got more than what I came for; a man ravaged me wholly and helped heal another piece of my broken psyche.
My therapist says it’s normal for women who have been through trauma to act out their feelings. In some fucked up way, Primal Play and CNC help me regain control of my own body after so many others took it away from me.
However, my therapist definitely does not know about the other activities that I engage in. Regardless, I have found what works for me and I don’t see any reason to change it now.
Just over an hour later, I pull into my gravel driveway. The drive from Huntsville filled me with peace and confidence. That man, currently known as “E,” was hands down the best sex I think I’ve ever had. I always knew that “Good girl” was a thing for me, but that man played my body like it was his personal instrument. Too bad I don’t do seconds. I may have told him differently, but that was just to appease him long enough that I could get out of there.
Clicking the button, I open the garage and glide right in; immediately closing it behind me and checking to ensure I wasn’t followed. When the garage is almost completely closed, I shut off the car and flip the mirror down. There are leaves and dirt all up in my hair, reminding me of the fun I had tonight. Grabbing my brush from the glove compartment, I open my door and quickly remove as much debris as possible before brushing my hair into a messy bun. I giggle at the pun and roll my eyes at myself.
Once I’m done, I lean back in, throw my brush back into the glove box, and then grab my keys, phone, and wallet, which I stashed under the seat. Not ready to get cleaned up, just yet, I head over to the door on the far side of the three-car garage. Moving the black, steel shelving unit aside, I push on the wall until the familiar ‘click’ rings out. Releasing it, I wait as the small panel in the wall drops down, allowing me to enter my PIN. Once it turns green, I push the panel back, waiting to hear the locking mechanism click, and make sure it”s flush with the wall. Not even two seconds later, the locks disengage, and a large door behind the hidden wall opens wide.
Stepping through, I turn and close the door behind me. I wait silently until the pin pad on the inside turns red, alerting me that I’m now safely locked in. Turning around, I head down the cement stairs into my basement. Well, basement-ish.
Recessed lights in the ceiling begin flicking on as they sense my movement; filling the space with just enough light that it doesn’t blind me or the man sitting on the left side of the room.
His flabby, hairy self is still passed out in the metal chair I tied him to hours ago. Rick Batesman was a huge pain in the ass to get alone. But, as they all do, he underestimated me and I was able to drug him before he even had a chance to grunt a sound. Thankfully, we were right next to the van, so I just had to kick the sensor under the running board to get the door to slide open.
Dragging him down here was a problem since he’s much larger than my usual targets. At 6 feet 3 inches and roughly 300 pounds of flab; yeah, it was hard. Thankfully, I prepared ahead of time, and he landed, ungracefully, into my van on a bunch of plastic wrap. I didn’t bother to finish wrapping him until I got home since the sedative wouldn’t wear off for hours, so I had plenty of time to slide his big butt in the van and get out of there before being spotted.
Getting him down to the basement was a whole other level of exhausting. I almost didn’t make it to meet E. But, I somehow managed to wrap him up in the plastic I had, shove him out on the flat cart, and roll him to the door. The dirty jackhole slid all the way down the cement stairs; probably gaining a few new bruises and maybe a concussion. Then, I had to use the chains and pulley system I have rigged up to help get him in the chair. It took a lot longer than I wanted, but I still made it out in time to freshen up and then meet E. And thank God I did!
I lean against the light stone wall and take him in. Now that I’ve released my own demons in the forest, I can concentrate solely on this man’s transgressions. His chest moves slowly and evenly as his head hangs forward. His blue basketball shorts hang off the chair, and his white tee clings to his sweaty, hairy body, staining it yellowish-brown. His black hair falls in front of his face, limp and lifeless. Kind of perfect, considering…
A loud snore rips through the room, causing me to jump. Never have I ever…
Rolling my eyes, I shake my head and approach the man who has more body hair than a Saint Bernard. It’s quite gag-worthy if you ask me. Nothing like the man I met tonight.
Flashbacks of his hands on my body, his mouth in my most intimate places, and his dick... Holy fork! That thing should be registered as a lethal weapon.
I feel liquid heat pool in my panties, abruptly reminding me that I need to get cleaned up. But first, I need to deal with this stain on society.
Stepping towards my new friend, Rick, I slap his face a few times. The sedative I pushed into his system should be just about worn off, but he’ll feel like a dirty butthole when he comes to; I should know.
“Ricky boy,” I sing-song as I tap his cheek a couple of times. He mumbles incoherently then passes out again.
Annoyed, and more than ready for a bath, I walk around him and open the top left drawer of the giant Snap-On Toolbox parked against the wall. This thing is my baby. It”s all white with blue handles. But the best part is that it has red LED lights underneath it. I only turn those on when I really have time to mess with these men.
Alas, that is not today.
I peruse some of my favorite knives before picking up my rainbow switchblade; the one without serrated edges. Nope, this baby is perfectly pointed and wickedly sharp. Flicking it open, I let the lights from above glint across the blade and admire the pretty colors.
A sound, somewhere between a snort and a snore, rings out again and pulls me from the peace this knife brings me. Butthead.
Rolling back my shoulders, I wander back over until I’m directly in front of him. Leaning down until my head is level with his, I take a deep breath. Then, I rear back and stab the knife right into his left thigh. The high-pitched wail that comes from his throat causes me to wince but I don’t move.
His chest begins to rise and fall rapidly as his adrenaline kicks in. I wait, semi-patiently, as his brain begins making connections. I know the moment that he registers the knife in his thigh because his body immediately rears back, almost causing him to fall backward in the chair.
“Ah, ah, ah,” I admonish playfully. His head snaps back towards me, and he finally realizes that I’m here.
At first, his eyes are glassy and confused. “Wh-what the. Where…Where am I? What did you do to me?” His confusion only lasts so long as rage begins to filter into his eyes and he spits out his final question.
“Oh, Ricky. You’re in no position to ask any questions.” I chastise him like a disappointed mother. His eyes flare and I straighten back up, towering over him. I can’t keep the grin from taking over my face. I know men like him hate to be belittled or feel weak, so a female standing confidently over him is really going to set him off.
“Get me out of here, you bitch! If you really knew me you’d know I have people. People are going to look for me. And then you’ll pay.”
Clucking my tongue against my teeth, I tsk him again. Pulling my mouth down into a dramatic frown. “Oh! Say it ain’t so.” My exaggerated southern bell voice only pisses him off further. His face is puffy and red like a little angry bull.
Giggling, I lean down to look straight into his eyes again. “Too bad they’ll never find you. Unlike the girls you raped, tortured, dismembered…” I trail off, lifting my brow high in challenge. And, like all the others, his face pales slightly before immediately running his mouth.
“I didn’t do anything to those girls.” He spits with a snarl. “I was already found innocent. This is bullshit.” He starts fighting his bindings. Of course, I let him. I know for dang sure he’s not getting out of my jacked-up, complicated ties.
After a few minutes of me watching him struggling in silence, he finally stops and sneers at me. But before he can spew any more crap my way, I reach over and yank the knife out of his thigh; twisting it just enough to make it rip open. Blood pours down the side of his leg and runs down the drain. His screams echo off the walls as tears slide down his face.
“Aw, what’s the matter, Rick? Can’t handle a little cut?” I bring the knife in the air and watch as his eyes widen in fear. Pointing it at him, a sick sense of satisfaction washes over me as I watch him break. So, dang, easily. Just like I knew he would. Just like they all do.
With a scoff, I turn away and begin walking back to the stairs. I need him to feed into the idea that I may very well be leaving him, bleeding and pathetic and all alone.
I don’t make it far before he cracks. “Wait!” He cries out.
I inhale deeply before pushing out the exhale, then slowly turn to face him. “P-p-please,” he sobs as tears and snot roll down his face. “I’m so-sorry. I c-couldn’t help it.”
“You couldn’t help it?” I growl. My eyes latch right onto his as I step closer to him, pointing the knife at him. My voice starts out low and menacing as I sneer, “You couldn’t help but torture and rape them for days?” Step. “You couldn’t help but dismember each of them while they were still alive?” Step. “You couldn’t fucking help but scatter their remains in the ship channel?” Now, my voice is loud enough that it echoes around the room.
My chest heaves with adrenaline and pure rage. With one last step, the knife is pointed right at his big, fat nose. “You couldn’t help it when you had your buddies at the station make the fingerprints and DNA samples disappear?”
“P-p-please…” He whimpers. The smell of urine fills the air, and I scrunch up my nose in disgust.
“You’re pathetic.” I spit out.
Standing straight, I wait quietly until he has the audacity to meet my stare; making sure I am the last thing he ever sees. “Rest in pieces, Rick,” I grit through my teeth as I hold his shoulder with my left hand and stab him in the right side of his neck. Once the handle is flush with the skin, I twist and yank it out. Blood sprays all over my hand and the side of the room. I step back in time to watch as the light in his eyes vanishes and his head drops forward.
With a deep breath, I let the feeling wash over me. One less vile piece of garbage walks this Earth.
The sounds of the blood draining into the pipes underneath me signal that it’s time to get cleaned up. Turning right, I go to the giant stainless steel sink and scrub my knife, hands, and arms with the antimicrobial soap I keep down here.
Once I’m satisfied, I stride over to the toolbox and gently place the knife back in its place, then slide the drawer closed.
Taking out my phone, I text my friend, Stu, letting him know I need a cleanup, but there’s no rush.
With a final glance at Rick, I enter my PIN into the pad and pull the door open once it turns green. Stepping back into the garage and closing the door, I wait for the lock to re-engage before rolling the shelving unit back in front of the wall. Not that anyone can see it, but I like the extra layer of protection.
I meander across the garage and begin dreaming of a hot bath with lavender bubbles filling it to the brim. Unlocking the garage door, I go to slide off my slip-on Converse and pout when I see the red blood stains screwing up the pretty white laces and sides. “Durn it. Stupid Jerk,” I mumble to myself as I kick off my shoes and rip off my socks.
Shaking my head, I walk into the mud room and throw them in the open washing machine to my right. With an aggrieved sigh, I slide off the rest of my clothes and stuff them in, as well.
Once I start the load, I walk through the kitchen and briskly make my way to my room. This girl needs a shower, a bubble bath, and a good book.