Stupid Dog
2019 Words
Diava began receiving insane slaps of the AC on her skin.
It was as though his last move made her self-aware.
The scent—strong oud.
The aura—deeply unsettling.
The presence—suffocating.
And the voice—rare depth.
She summed it all up and got her answer.
She's in Stupid's car.
She got trapped with that kidnaper again.
Shit has been crazy these past weeks, and it just got crazier now as her face is now sandwiched between his legs.
The worse part? She entered this car herself. She asked for help herself.
She offered herself for this kill, and the consequences? No one needs to tell her it'd be dirty.
This devil doesn't seem like someone who'd do anything without a price.
The car kept moving.
His hand stayed at the back of her head. It didn't lessen in tightness. It kept pressing her down to his length, and her lips stayed there.
Despite his pants, she could feel the veins on the body of the cóvk. She could feel the hardness. She could feel the longness and the warmth.
The titillation.
She gulped, her palms folding on each side of her dress on the floor.
There's no light in the car at all. The lights from the street isn't even flooding in cos the windows of the car isn't the type to let in lights.
So, in the dark, she gagged over and over again, not daring to open her mouth to talk cos who knows when the monster under her lip would jump into her mouth?
Leo kept driving.
He didn't look at the road
His eyes stayed hooded, staring down at her head in the middle of his legs.
So perfect.
So beautiful.
He had so many girls between his legs in University—Ruthie inclusive. Oh, Ruthie sucked like a motherfucker. Her mouth was hellfire. She rode as hard as she sucked, and several other sluts he f****d nightly in the Uni hotel.
But this one came with a foreign kind of thrill. She's not even sucking him, just her lips and warmth indirectly on it, and he's getting harder.
He could feel the veins on his cóvk stretching to his shaft and crown.
He could feel his balls tightening, his cóvk growing bigger. And for the first time ever, his nose caught a whiff of what she smells like.
Like something potent enough to dismantle a villain to ruins, and also potent enough to set a villain's sanity straight. Heaven and hell in one.
Anathema.
Thinking of it that way made his nerves burn more. His imaginations grew to where he saw her on her knees, where her own bra wrapped around her neck, choking her while her mouth swallowed His cóvk, and her breàsts danced for him.
Her p$ssy soaked for him.
Her tears fell for him.
Her ass bounced for him.
He closed his eyes, revelling in the imagination so deep his length nearly destroyed his pants with the hardness. and at the imagination of her swollen p$ssy grinding his face, he leaked precum in his pants.
Below him, Diava felt everything.
The way he grew.
The way he swelled.
The way the veins multiplied on the body of his c**k.
His pants might be covering it, but it wasn't enough to hide his madness.
This sick man.
He's...he's using her to...jerk off.
The warmth of his cóvk increased when his precum leaked.
She felt that, too.
Not minding what might happen, she tried to raise herself from that position, but his dominating big palm pressed the back of her head again.
This time, she went back down with a gasp—a open mouth.
Indirectly, the cóvk crown entered her mouth again, wrapped beneath the expensive fabric of his slacks.
Her body immediately shuddered, receiving flashbacks of how he made her cûm in the counseling box.
Sweat formed, again.
It's become normalcy with him now.
Sweat. Chills. Mind race. Hate.
She stayed still, and the sickest part? He said not even a single word, but he definitely knew what he was doing. His precum stained his trousers—the same place her
mouth is at, and she instantly tasted a faint ting of saltiness on her tongue.
Her second gag happened.
Leo's hand left Diava's head, and her face came up, but before she could see his face, he was out of the car.
She quickly came out the car too, ready to confront him, but he was already climbing the short stairs in front of his caditel.
Leaving her to her own lone fate.
She spat to the ground, looking around the place.
She realized she's really alone.
She left her bag at the hotel, so there's no phone with her. Also, her car isn't here too. Stranded would be the right word,
By now, Leo's is by the door of the caditel, about to open it up.
She rushed after him.
Leo entered, and she entered right behind him.
The doorclosed after them.
Minutes ago when Diava entered with Tobias, she didn't meet him anywhere.
It was like he disappeared, and the caditel is so wide she doesn't even know her way around.
She tried to search, going from one dark room to another, she got lost.
She had to come back to the open room, but she couldn't sit.
She might not be aware of what's going on outside cos she's not with her phone, but whatever is going on outside will be unfavorable to her.
She probably got removed from the Rhiss family tree already. Not like she'd be sad about that cos they've never treated her like family.
And she's probably wanted ,If she gets caught, straight prison.
No escaping.
That's the scary part for her.
She hasn't even started living her life yet. Prison isn't where she wants to be, so something has to be done.
But now she's stuck here in the caditel of this corrupt kidnaper
No bag. No phone. No car.
It's dark everywhere cos Leo didn't turn on the lights.
Also, she could still taste his faint saltiness. The taste she had from his pants in the car.
She swallowed unconsciously—as if she wants more of the taste.
But she quickly retched and sat slowly on the couch she could trace with her hands.
This place smells of incense, old books, and him.
She could feel his darkness creeping under her skin so hard without her permission, and it made her gulp again. Her life is a mess, she's not supposed to be here.
The lights poured on. Every light in the house, they flashed on, revealing his face as he walked out of one of the rooms, carrying a paint drum.
He's not wearing the suit and slacks anymore. Looks like he showered.
He's in plain cotton pants and ash singlet which moulded his figure.
Dressed up, he's tall, but in casuals like this? He's a giant.
Even his casuals look expensive cos the singlet has a limited edition label around his neck.
His hair is tousled by the bathwater, and his steps were quiet till he set the paint drum down by the wall.
As he bent his figure to drop the drum, Diava caught sight of his back as the singlet shifted up.
He's got strange dimples on his back.
She saw like four before he stood straight.
Dimples? On the back?
Weird.
She released a sigh as Leo began mixing the paint without saying a word to her—like he hadn't seen her.
"I'm here, and I'm not asking for anything else except the explanation of what happened inside that car. You jerked off with my face, I tasted your pre!" She shouted.
"And it tasted like what? Your cûm the other time you fingered yourself?" He replied, dipping brush inside the paint.
Diava's tongue nearly tied, but she wouldn't let it.
Not in front of him.
"Wild Lily, I wouldn't have entered your car if I wasn't in a situation that demanded it!"
"You're always in pathetic situations. Pathetic Stupid Dog." He replied, raising the painting brush to the wall.
Black rubbed on top of the white color, and that part of the wall instantly resembled a prison.
Why the fûck is he doing this?
"Immoral Ugly Dog." Diava answered.
"You don't see me flaunting my morals in your face," he smirked at the wall as if it's her. "I'm filthy, wicked, immoral, the Black Sheep who rains Wrath on himself and enjoys the bath. I'm everything you'd hate and want at the same time. But one thing's certain; there's no heaven to me. Only hell, and yells." He said grimly, hair falling on his nape.
"Now," he faced her, suddenly dropping the painting stick on the floor. She didn't expect he'd come for her, but he did.
Diava's mind spiralled on a thin string when he yanked her by the hair, so tight her scalp nearly peeled. So merciless her skull nearly cracked.
"Ahh!! Let...me....let me...gg"
"Don't stammer," his face roamed above hers, eyes red. "It's a turn off. Now, admit you're a Pathetic Stupid Dog, and you don't deserve the air you breathe." He growled.
"You're a devil!" She barked, twisting herself, trying to get off, but she only hurt herself with that move cos her scalp burned with cruelty, sending signals of explosion to her braincells.
Leo eyes didn't blink. He didn't shake. His muscles didn't move. It's like he's not the one holding her down. It's so effortless that Diava wondered if she had any bone left inside her body right now.
The light of that open room flickered above them, and she spat directly on his face. The saliva met his brow.
He didn't act like he just got spat on. Instead, he clawed her chin with his second hand. It felt like an egg he could break for breaking sake.
Just to see how beautifully broken it'd look. It's not weird he wants to see her blood right now, right?
"You're the most damn Pathetic Dog living. Frane lives better than you. You have no talent, no use, no affection from damn family, nothing going on. Disowned by your husband family, wanted by cops, a stupid fuckin stammerer!" He sneered.
Diava bursted.
"Yess!!!! I'm a Pathetically Stupid Dog! A Frump who doesn't deserve the air in her damn lungs!!! An incompetent fool who has nothing going on! A broke motherfucker!!! Are you satisfied? Are you satisfied!!???" She yelled, breaking free forcefully.
She pushed his chest, but he didn't even feel it as her eyes reddened madly too, looking up at him.
"Now what? Is there a price for admitting to what I really am? Is there a fuckin price??!!"
Her breaths? Shallow. Loud.
Her chest? Rising. Thudding.
Eyes? Reddish. Desperate.
But her palm is bleeding.
The palm she broke the glass with in the morning. It already stopped bleeding, but she struggled to free herself from Leo with it, now it's bleeding again
Leo stared at the bleeding palm for a while. It's beautiful—the blood.
He wants to lick, but there's a crocheted black wristband around her wrist. He lost his appetite for blood licking when he saw it.
He left her standing there, walking back to the paint.
He resumed painting.
"Your crotchets lack life. You make dead crotchets. Who'd wanna put cash on lame crotchets that lack breaths?" He muttered harshly. "Stupid you."
Now, he's done with the first wall.
He moved to the other.
Diava looked at herself on the wrist, staring shortly at the crotched wristband.
She didn't say anything else.
She went to the other room where there's a single couch. She sat on the couch, thinking about what to do with her life presently.
All these mess she's in, she needs a power point to draw from.
If she's gonna win against her husband family, she needs someone powerful than them to back her up.
But who?
Her thought revolved on that, till she unknowingly fell deeply asleep on that couch.
Her palm continued bleeding.
- Writer
