His words opened wounds that scathed her soul, digging deeper with each dagger that dripped from his tongue. Her heart his canvas, she ripped her chest wide, begging him to take what was left. Carnivorous with greed, he slowly picked at the flesh, knowing that the pain he would cause could be the masterpiece she sought. As his night meets the dawn like her heaven meets his hell. Two souls bound together forever, she waited to be once again drunk from his selfish desires.
Slowly and methodically, I crawled across the floor. My ass high in the air as an enticement to the female. She had just come, but I know that her pussy tingled from phantom strokes of my tongue against her swollen lips.
His words scathed her soul, taking what was left inside of her broken heart. Dreams of tomorrow shattered, the shards of glass pelting her face, they dug away the beauty she once possessed. There is no pain like that of a broken heart in search of the reason why. Screams of pain, her voice silent as her soul cried out for mercy. As he finished his novel, her body held the story of his rage.
I had turned 18 and had my first job. Well, it wasn’t a paying job, but I was an intern in a doctor’s office. Since my original goal in life had been to be a Physician, it was only fitting. Old Doc Johnson had been the one to deliver half the people in town, and he was a notorious womanizer. He even delivered me.
Overwhelming laughter fell from my lips, not from his words, but that look on his face. Was he actually going to cry about not cumming for three months? I’ve never in my life heard anything so pathetic. Was he that weak that he couldn’t stand a little pain in his balls? Of course, he was. He was a man, so yes, he was not as strong as a female in the physical sense.
In the depths of nowhere, there is a little madness in us all. Close your eyes and take a step into your own soul. The only way to find peace is to drown the ghosts that haunt your dreams. Alice chased the rabbit, and I chase the pain, is it the madness that consumes us all in the end or the fear of being normal?
Heaven and hell raged in her heart. Lashes on her skin, she wore his welts, knowing that every strike on her perfect flesh was worthy of the screams of rage deep within her soul. His hands wrote the next chapter in her tortured life. He wouldn’t stop until all hope was picked from her bones in his acidic reign of power and greed. Did she deserve his wrath, or was she another victim to greed?