Your New Shoulder Devil Pt. 11

This story contains scenes and themes of nonconsensual and reluctant sex, as well as choking, suicidal ideation, gender identity issues and threats of severe violence. Proceed with caution.

*

That same morning, Rose came out of sleep on a strange couch. Wasn't uncomfortable if she laid still, this couch was a bit softer than the one in her living room actually, but any slight shift of her head and oh, Jesus, existence was agony, her skull was heavy and howling.

Smell of eggs frying. Interesting. Her stomach was a grumbling void, she had a powerful craving for food, but no will to move. Where the hell was she? What had she done last night?

She laid, aching and hungering.

Footsteps, coming toward her. A gentle hand on her shoulder, a man's voice, "Good morning!"

"Muh."

"Got some breakfast for you... do you eat eggs? I know some people have allergies."

"I like eggs," she slurred. She attempted to sit up and found it difficult, so she let the couch have her.

"Alright, c'mon." She felt his hand gripping hers, helping her to raise herself to a sitting position.

She peeled her eyes open. Vague memory of this place, spare underfurnished little apartment. Irritating amount of sunlight pouring through the window. And she had some memory of this young man with the square face and the odd little smile. He set a tray table in front of her with a plate, scrambled eggs and diced potatoes and toast, coffee mug on one side and a glass of water on the other.

She poured some water into herself, God, she'd needed that, she sucked the glass dry in seconds, then began shoveling eggs and potatoes into her mouth.

The man was lurking near her, watching her eat. "Whatcha looking at me for?" she demanded.

"Just, keeping an eye on you," he said.

"Mm." She took another bite. "What, uh, happened last night?"

"Well," the voice of someone who was choosing his words carefully, "you got real drunk. When you had to leave the bar, you were having trouble staying upright. So, I helped you out. I asked you where home was, you didn't want to go home, so I brought you here to sleep it off."

Probing look at him as she sipped the coffee. "And did we, you know, do anything?"

A wider grin now, a breathy noise that was like a laugh. "No, no. You were too drunk, I wouldn't take advantage like that."

"How noble," Rose muttered. "What about what I want though, huh?"

His jaw worked, trying to decide whether to say this next thing. "You kept, uh, saying you were gonna ram your dick up my ass, like, 'I'm gonna make you squeal, bitchboy.'" He sounded amused.

"Mm." She didn't think he had the proper respect for the threat she posed, which was irritating, but he didn't seem judgmental. She wanted to pick at this, "And how did that make you feel?"

"I didn't think anything of it."

Rose very much doubted that. "How did it make you feel?"

"It was endearing, I guess," he said. "I dunno, I find it cute when girls get aggressive when they're drunk."

"That's me. Big cutie." She sipped her coffee. "So, what are you playing at now, huh? You want me to suck your dick for helping me out?" She peered over the rim of her mug at him. "Do you want your ass fucked?"

His eyes darted toward the floor, away from her gaze. "I don't wanna get in between you and your wife, I don't wanna be entangled in anything like that."

"Ah. So you know about that too, huh?" She slumped her back against the couch. "So then, Mr. Goodboy, I ask again, what are you playing at? What's, uh," she waved her hand at the plate, "what's your goal here, huh?"

"Well," he scratched at his upper arm, "you needed help, so I wanted to help."

"Of course. I suppose it's just a coincidence that the person you decided to help is, not to be conceited or anything, the most gorgeous woman you've ever seen in your life. You've seen sloppy drunks staggering around before, if I came here any other Sunday morning, would I see big greasy ugly fat guys on your couch, eating a breakfast you cooked for them?"

He stood, not speaking.

"So, fine, maybe you're too much of a goody-two-shoes to help me wreck my marriage a little, but you're getting something out of this, playing the chivalrous hero for a little bit. Maybe your fantasy is that I'd make good on my threat to ram my cock up your ass, take your accountability out of it. Or maybe you just wanted a pretty girl in your sadsack apartment brightening up your sadsack life for a little while, and you can play at being a househusband. This isn't the kind of roleplay I'm into, sweetheart. And if you really just wanted to do a good thing for humanity, you should've left me uptown passed out in an alley, on my back ideally so I'd choke on my vomit."

"Hey now." At once his voice was firmer, chiding. "Don't talk like that." A disgruntled scoff and an odd little flap of his arms. "Look, I know you feel bad about cheating--"

"And what makes you think you know that?"

"You, uh, burst out crying--"

"Oh my God," she bent her head back over the top of the couch, sucking air through her lips, "no I didn't, nooo I fucking didn't."

"A couple times."

"Stop it."

"Sorry." Thoughtful breathing, she could hear him plotting his next statement. "People stray sometimes, I know, but it's not the end of the world, like, your life isn't forfeit. Maybe you and her can make it work."

"It's working just fine," Rose growled. "Her ass isn't going anywhere."

A pause. "Alright." He took the empty plate off her tray table and walked it toward the sink.

With some effort, she pulled herself off the couch (head hated being upright, wanted to lie down) and lurched after him, leaning on the kitchen counter watching him scrub the egg residue from the plate. "So tell me," she said, "when I said I had a dick, did you believe me?"

"Um," he let out a nervous titter, "I had to hold you up while you pissed against a wall, so, y'know, I was aware."

"Mm. Were you peeping at me?"

He shook his head, a bit too hasty.

Rose pitched her voice up, "God, were you disgusted with me?"

"No," he said, sounding desperate to assure her.

She smirked. "No, you weren't, were you? Were you curious?" She put a hand on his back. "Are you curious?"

Wide gorgeous smile on his face now, he was still standing perpendicular to her, facing the sink, avoiding her eyes. "I don't know."

"Mm. I think," she started dragging her nails down his spine, "if you don't know whether you're curious, that means you're curious." When her hand reached his ass she gave a squeeze.

"Ah! Stopit!"

He moved away from her touch, and Rose's instincts took over, a flurry of movement which ended with her pressing herself against him, holding him with his back against the wall, grinding her growing hardon against him. "Feel that?" she hissed.

"Yeah," he whispered.

She scratched at his face. "Want it?"

The conflict was audible in the sound of his breathing. "You shouldn't," he said.

"I know. But I do everything I'm not supposed to. I should've warned you, baby," her hand stroked down his torso, toward his crotch, "I'm a fucking monster." Loose flannel pajama pants, easy to slip her hand under the waistband and wrap her fingers around his hard cock. She could feel his body trembling against her, hear his desperate sputtering little gasps. "You should know better than to let strangers into your home. Anything could happen. Now then, you didn't answer my question, and I want you to keep in mind that I'm currently grabbing your boner, tell me honestly," her other hand grabbed his chin, tilted her face up toward hers, "do you want it?"

Fear and desire and dread and longing poured out of his eyes, and she drank it all down.

Impatient for a reply, she rubbed her thumb over his tip, and drew a bit of wetness from his cock onto her thumb. "Hey, you just jizzed on me a little."

"S-sorry."

"Yeah? I'm not." She took her hand off his cock, and his hips made a jerky little thrust toward her touch, and she smirked at him, and watched his face turn red. She put her thumb in her mouth and sucked the salty liquid off it. "I just tasted your bodily fluids. Bet my wife would be mad at you."

"Yeah," he managed, shame-faced, trying to turn his head away.

But she still had his jaw in her hand. "Gimme your mouth, you little bitch."

His lips were agape, easy to slip her tongue inside, satisfying to feel him guiltily kiss her back. She savored the kiss for a while before pulling away, leaving a series of wet pecks along his cheek until her lips were right against his ear. "You just kissed a married woman. I think that makes you a homewrecker."

A despondent sigh. "Yeah."

She licked his earlobe. "I'm gonna fuck your asshole."

"Don't."

A bite on the ear this time. "I'm gonna."

"I said DON'T!" He shoved her, hard, an outburst sudden enough to take her off-guard, send her staggering back, give him room to slip away from her.

She stalked toward him, and he backed away. "How hard do you wanna make this for me, huh?" she purred. "Cause I could make this real fuckin' hard for you."

"What the fuck is this?" he spat, eyes wild, body language sharp and jittery.

"Well, darling, this is a rape."

"What?!" He stammered out several garbled syllables, until he managed the sentence, "Why are you doing this to me?"

"I dunno."

"What are," he inhaled, a desperate choked gasp, "what is..."

He collapsed against the wall, sitting with hands on his head, heavy wheezing, an alarming amount of sweat pouring down his face.

Rose frowned. This wasn't the sort of response she liked provoking, and, frankly, it was kinda taking her out of the mood. She squatted down in front of him; the way he looked at her, the way he shuddered, had a quality that she found agitating, never mind the dry thick wheezing noise. "Are you dying or something?" she said, striking a teasing voice. "What, a girl tries to fuck you and you're gonna freak out so bad you die?"

"Stopit," he whimpered. "You don' like me, everything you say makes me feel like shit."

"Uh huh." She felt a weird little twinge, probably the wheezing grating on her nerves, God what an awful sound. "Hey, you got an inhaler or anything?"

He shook his head. "Leave me alone."

She raised herself back to a standing position. "I'll get you water, water always helps."

In the kitchen with the tap on, she almost couldn't hear the wheezing. He'd asked her why she was doing this. She never really thought about the why of her actions, strange to be asked. Just what she did. She supposed he was right, she didn't particularly like him. Not that he was ugly or anything, but he wasn't the type she normally went for. He was just there, and playing at being better than her, and she'd wanted to drag him to her level. She felt gross, newly aware of how much dried sweat was on her body, how nauseous and headachey she felt. Might as well not bother with fucking, she doubted she'd enjoy it.

No change in his demeanor when she came back with the glass, but he took it from her hand and sucked the water down.

"I'm not gonna rape you," she said. "Just, I dunno. Being stupid, heh. Do you have, like, medication or something that would help?"

He shook his head. "Gotta," speaking seemed difficult, "ride it out."

She nodded. This was one of those panic attacks, probably. Tired of standing, she slumped down to the floor a few feet away from him, and sat with her back against the wall.

The wheezing was quieter, but his distress was still pungent, it seemed to fill the room, agitating her. "You can, like, hold my hand if you want," and she held it out.

His hand wrapped around hers and squeezed, and she squeezed him back. Something grounding about the warmth of his hand in hers. Skin against skin. Humanizing, kinda.

"Eggs were good," Rose said. "Nice and fluffy, not too dry. I always let them get dry, heh."

Time passed.

"Potatoes were good too. Heh, last time I made them for my wife, she was like, 'These hashbrowns are black.' We weren't married back then."

Time passed. Her hand was tingly now, but she didn't take it back.

"You know, I think now I kinda get why you helped me. I don't know, I'm not really a person who helps people a lot. I like messing with people. And so I kinda thought you were messing with me somehow," she shrugged.

"I wasn't," he wheezed.

"I know. Just being stupid."

Time passed.

"I think I'm better now," he said, and he let go of her hand.

She nodded. "Nice."

They lingered in their place against the wall, until Rose willed herself to say, "Well, probably should get going."

"Yeah." His voice still sounded delicate.

"Uh, thanks, by the way. Thanks a lot, for everything." She stood, and lingered looking down at him. "I'm just a huge bitch when I'm hungover. I'm a huge bitch all the time, really."

He was staring ahead, his breathing deliberate, a calm that seemed to require effort to maintain. "I guess I knew," he said, "that you're not supposed to let, like, strangers into your home. Risky. Could've gone a lot worse, you know."

"Well, yeah. Could've been better though, I could've..." she shrugged.

Going through her purse to make sure she had all her possessions, she heard his voice, "I guess I did help you because you're hot. Could've just admitted that, I don't know why... I'm not some big virtuous person either."

"Yeah, well, hey. Better than what I do when I think someone's hot, heh." That was supposed to be funny. Just sounded stale. "And like, you're cute. You'll be a good househusband for some lucky girl."

She glanced behind her. Genuine grin on his face now. "Hey, maybe I'll see you around sometime, yeah?" she offered.

"Maybe." He seemed to be searching for another thing to say as she walked toward the door. "Uh, take care."

She gave a stiff nod and slipped outside. Ah, Jesus, it was bright out, she rifled through her purse for her sunglasses, pushing a mass of knotted hair out of the way to stuff them onto her face. Walk of shame baby, this time with real shame. Stupid, shame was stupid, what did she have to be ashamed of?

He still might not be okay. Well, she told herself, he'd fucking better be, nothing had happened, except that he got his dick stroked a little. Wasn't her fault if he was too delicate to cope with that.

Felt like she was being fake with herself.

Why was he under her skin like this? Maybe it was just that she'd lost. Fuck, she'd let him win, given up so easily. Because she was hungover? She did want to just collapse when she got home, maybe the bare fact that he gave resistance was enough to make her not bother.

Her mind's eye was struck with a flash of his wild frightened face when he was freaking out, and she felt itchy. This was a fucking bungle, no way around it. Cruel as she was, she was normally pretty good at finessing compliance from a body moment to moment. Overpowering them, sure, but also manipulating, coaxing and scaring them into letting her use them for her perverted ends, giving them enough pleasure with the pain to make them obedient. When she got physical resistance, it tended to be either direct pain responses, jolting away from a rough thrust of her cock, or else a surprised response to the fact that she had a cock at all. Surface level body responses, easily moved through.

This boy, it had been something deeper. He'd accepted the fact that she had a cock, and she really hadn't given him any pain. No, he'd resisted out of fucking principle. He didn't want to be party to her infidelity. Now, those boys Angelina had found, they'd been excited to know she was cheating. Which made more sense to Rose, cheating was exciting, sneaking around, doing things you shouldn't, risks and secrets and lies, profaning what others held sacred. All her favorite things. Kind of amazing she'd made it a year without giving in. Pretty lame and stupid that this boy didn't want to participate. Wasn't even his marriage getting wrecked.

She was close to Sodom House now. She'd get back, and go upstairs, and lie next to Dolly, and she wouldn't feel like herself, and touching Dolly wouldn't feel the way it did before Angelina came into her life. She turned a corner, started walking away from her house in the direction of uptown. Be somewhere else a while longer.

So, fine, it was bad that she was cheating. Fucked up her home life, fucked up her ability to relax. Fucked up everything because she couldn't resist her impulses.

Still unnerving to think about the boy asking her why she was doing it. Wasn't attraction, or horniness, not in some simple sense. Just that she needed to feel his desire for her, needed to feel her power over him.

Well, she didn't feel powerful. She'd given up for some dumb reason. Should've fucked that little bitch. Maybe she could stalk someone down right now, find a boybody and wrestle it to the ground and ram a load into it.

Her cock was growing at the idea, yes, but as she fantasized about it a hundred fragmentary memories of past victims, ugly crying and sullen haunted faces. This wasn't the first panic attack she'd seen; easier to laugh her way through it when she had her girls there to laugh along with. For some reason today these memories were bugging her.

Well, fucking, whatever. Brain was stupid, she should just go home and fuck Dolly about it. Or better, do a roleplay, make a video. Make Dolly play a boy, she loved making her do that, have the premise of the video be that Rose was married and trying to seduce Dolly's character into being her lover, and Dolly didn't want to do it, so Rose forced it on her, make her scream that she was a homewrecker as she came, yesssss...

She got back home; the living room stank of alcohol and sex, sound of Ganza snoring on the couch. Someone had left the fucking silverware drawer open, so Rose closed it before going up the stairs.

Dolly was standing by the dresser, putting clothes into her backpack. This was abnormal, but Rose didn't think anything of it, though she did register that Dolly looked stricken, and stayed wide-eyed and petrified as Rose approached to plant a kiss on her cheek and give a quick hug. "Mornin' sweetie," she murmured. "Long night, wanna rest."

She trudged to the bed and collapsed, facing the wall with her eyes closed, wanting to drift away, but she could feel Dolly watching her. "So," Dolly's voice, "where were you last night?"

"Told you, hanging out with Valerie. Drinking, bullshitting about whatever."

"Mm. You weren't fucking other people?"

Dull flare of irritation. "In fact I wasn't."

"Okay." There was a distinct feeling that Dolly was building up to something; Rose laid there, tense and groggy, waiting. "I was fucking other people."

In her weary hungover state Dolly's words hit with a dull thud, no impact on her conscious mind even as she felt some chemical change beginning in her lower body. She didn't want to deal with this right now, so she said, "Bullshit."

"Look at me."

"Lemme sleep, Dolly."

"You came in and you kissed me but you didn't even really look at me. There's a hickey on my neck Rose."

Rose rolled over, a fast, agitated movement, stopped short by Dolly's urgent voice, "DON'T come any closer."

Her eyes focused on Dolly, who was holding out one of the big steak knives. Alright, she was awake now, scanning Dolly's body language to confirm that Dolly wasn't about to attack her. She stuck her hand out toward Dolly and wiggled her fingers. "Came closer. Now what?" She drank in the sight of Dolly's annoyed glower, and smirked. "Anyway, you wanted me to look at you, that's what I'm doing."

"You can see the hickey from there," and Dolly pointed at her neck with the knife, the tip pressed against a big purple blotch. "It's not subtle."

"Mm." Rose had been existing in a superposition of choosing to believe that Dolly was lying to get a rise out of her and half-believing, the confirmation brought a full-body flush of incandescent rage, felt like she was boiling. The visual of Dolly with the knife against her neck, the bratty defiance of the act, added a homicidal erotic spark. That was good, she could let this simmer, build to the move, whatever that was.

Her silence seemed to be unnerving Dolly. "So, I admitted it, yeah, now, fucking, you can admit it too."

Rose gave no reply.

Grim satisfaction in watching Dolly's frustration mount. "Fine, it doesn't fucking matter, I know, I've known for ages, and now I'm gonna fucking leave, gonna head out that door and you're never gonna see me again."

Rose stood in front of her. A few moments of letting Dolly tremble, waiting for a reply, and Rose reached out to grab Dolly's crotch.

"Ow! Hey!"

Rose dragged Dolly toward her by the testicles. "I'll be taking that," she said, plucking the knife from Dolly's hand. "Now, tell me darling," a controlled, cadenced voice, dripping with venom, "who did that to your neck?"

"Nh! Someone I was fucking," Dolly said, a pained yelp that was trying to sound like a taunt.

"Is that so? With what dick were you fucking someone else, hm?" Rose hissed, still holding Dolly's balls as she wrapped her other arm around Dolly to hold her close, gripping the knife with the blade against Dolly's shoulder. "See, you might be giving your holes up to someone else, but you ain't doing any fucking, not with that caged little sissy clitty. Now, you aren't willing to screw boys to make me happy, so I doubt that's the way in which you've been acting out, and you're not much use to a vagina with that limp piece of meat, so I think you're fucking one of the dickgirls in our circle. Shouldn't be too hard to figure out who."

"There's, hng, this older lady in town," Dolly squeaked out, "don't think you know her."

"I know what it sounds like when you're lying, sweetums. C'mon, tell me who." She gave Dolly's nuts a little twist.

"Nnh!" Sharp, anguished breaths, sounded like she was trying to steady herself. "You first," she hissed. "You cheated first, so you fucking tell me who you cheated with, then I'll do the same. That's fair."

Rose's eye twitched. Her sense of righteous anger was somewhat punctured, that queasy guilt was gurgling in her belly. Whatever, don't let it show. "So sure you're right about this, aren't you?"

"I know what it sounds like when you're lying too," Dolly spat.

"Yeah, well anyway, you're in no position to make demands. Do you think all your new friends will still want you once my knife has had her way with your face, huh?"

Delicious to feel Dolly shudder against her. The next thing she felt was Dolly's hand, groping at her cock, making her gasp. "Wowww," Dolly teased, "you're so hard, huh? Getting horny at the thought of cutting me up, how typical." Her hand began working the length of Rose's throbbing shaft. "This must be the best thing that ever happened to you, huh?" Dolly went on. "I've been SUCH a bad girl, you can do anything you want with me."

Rose let out a low rumble as she thrust against Dolly. "Ohhh, you're so fucked you know that?"

"Oh, God," a high, squeaky voice, "are you gonna make me bloody? You must wanna kill me." Dolly had perfected this voice, a parodic frightened whimper that sounded both mocking and flirty. Drove Rose crazy, despite herself she was falling into that usual intimacy with Dolly, savoring her touch on her cock, the fingernails of her other hand stroking up her belly toward her breast--

"OW!" Dolly was pinching her nipple now, oh hatehatehate, mind staticky from the pain, her hands unfurled, seized up stiff, the knife dropped to the floor.

"Aaaand it's mine again." Dolly tugged Rose's nipple downward as she bent to snatch up the knife, at last releasing her once it was in her hand, stepping back to make space between them.

"Oh, you're so fucking dead," Rose snarled, stalking toward her.

"That right? I've got the knife," and she held it out in front of her.

"Mm." Rose leaned forward to press her cheek to the side of the knife, gently rubbing against it. "But do you really have the guts to do anything to me?"

Cute to watch Dolly try to steel herself, try to play tough. "You'd be helping your case," she said, "if you just admitted it. Tell me who you've been fucking."

Rose gave an exaggerated frown. "So certain I'm guilty without any evidence."

"Who said I don't have evidence?" Dolly had an eyebrow raised, seemed very sure of what she was saying.

Ah shit, pivot, pivot. "You know what I don't have any evidence of? This fucking older lady you've been screwing." She drew herself up straight and tall, looking down at Dolly, watching her confidence melt away. "So, fine, you leave me, where you gonna go, huh? Gonna stay with that lady who's definitely real? Gonna crawl back to the frat? Your parents?"

"I don't KNOW!" A sharp swing of her arm, like a tantrum; Rose jolted back, actually concerned about the knife for the first time. "I have no place to go where I can... I'm gonna have to stop being a girl, yeah."

"Oh, sweetheart," Rose cooed, "you were never a girl."

A long pause, a crestfallen face. "I know," Dolly croaked.

Rose felt the nauseous gurgling in her belly. "Well, fuckin', c'mon you little bitch, you're really not gonna stand up for yourself?"

A sulky limp shrug. "Not a girl. I know. I always fucking knew, I shouldn't have," the way Dolly's breath caught in her throat, Rose knew she was holding back tears, "called myself that. Just get so fucking comfortable," turbulent breath, "lying to myself."

Rose scoffed. "For fuck's sake, you little dumbass." She reached out for Dolly, "Hey--"

"Don't touch me," said Dolly, raising the knife again.

Rose's movement was a bit more ginger as she put a hand on Dolly's chin, stroking her lips with her thumb. "You're so pretty, you know that? Oh, it'd be a real tragedy if you had to stop being so deliciously girly."

"Yep."

"Put the knife down, baby, let's just... I'm too hungover for this shit right now, okay?"

Dolly's emotions were difficult to judge, she let out a long, slow breath that seemed calming, but her sharp inhalation sounded upset. "Confess," she managed.

"Fuckin', I confess that I'm hungover. Lay with me, baby, let's just have a lazy Sunday morning."

"I confessed," Dolly insisted, "now you."

Rose didn't engage, just let herself fall onto the bed. She reached out for Dolly's hand, pulling her toward her. "Let's just put this behind us, yeah? Too early in the morning."

Dolly didn't yield, so Rose gave a hard yank and pulled her onto the bed; Dolly dropped the knife as she fell. For the best, Rose considered as she held Dolly tight against her body; if Dolly had held onto it one of them would've gotten cut, stupid of her to have done that. Whatever, it worked, everything was fine.

Dolly struggled against Rose's clutch, and Rose held her in place. "Let go of me," Dolly hissed.

"Nah."

"You wouldn't be so chill about this if you hadn't cheated too," Dolly said.

"Shhhh. I'll punish you later, okay baby? Wanna make a real feast of it, wanna rest right now."

"I used to be able to trust you. Like, you're a psycho, but you were my psycho. I thought I could count on you... on us..."

Her breaths were blubbery again. Rose gave scratches up and down Dolly's back, kisses on her cheek. "I'm not yours, you dumb bimbo," Rose said, an attempt at a warm voice. "You belong to me, not the other way around. That's what Mistress means."

"So," Dolly's voice got colder, "you're not gonna stop cheating?"

"Shhh."

"Fine. I'm not gonna stop either."

Rose felt the blood vessels throbbing in her eyelids. "I told you I don't wanna do this right now, sweetheart."

"Well, fuckin', I don't wanna relax right now. I'm not tired, and I don't," Dolly attempted to pull herself away from Rose's iron grip, "wanna be your fucking body pillow."

"Tough. You belong to me, little whore. That's what Mistress means." By now Rose's contempt had been fully awoken; she gave a sharp bite on Dolly's cheek, holding her teeth down while Dolly whined in protest. "I hope you appreciate that I'm being incredibly fucking nice to you right now, sweetums. You just admitted to betraying me, and here I am, trying to be nice."

"Oh yeah, this is what nice is coming from you," Dolly grumbled, "having to snuggle you against my will as opposed to getting beaten or roughfucked."

"I mean, yeah."

"I'm sick of it, Rose. Sick of all your shit. Heh, you know the crazy thing is, you didn't even have to fuck Angelina for her to drive a wedge between us--"

"Careful," Rose growled.

"Cause all it took was her just asking if I was okay with everything you did to me, and I started thinking about it, and it turns out I'm not! I'm fucking not, Rose, I'm sick of being your plaything, I've never been okay with how you treat me."

"Shut the fuck up," Rose snarled, "you're lying, you little shit, don't fucking pretend you hated all of this, I know you didn't," she stopped to catch her breath, and felt that her heart was pounding, her hands trembling. It didn't sound like Dolly was lying, was the thing, which was insane because, "I've watched you enjoy it, I've made you cum over and over, I've watched you fucking participate. You little self-pitying bitch, don't play like that, don't lie to me!"

Yelling like that had made her breathing ragged. She waited for a reply.

"Sorry," Dolly said. "You're right, obviously. I've had fun, I've enjoyed you, I love you, just..."

The silence soaked into her stomach, working knots in her intestines. "Just what."

"I don't know," a small voice.

"Well then," Rose replied, "if you don't know what your problem is, it sounds like you're getting yourself all upset over nothing."

"No. It's just..."

"Goddammit Dolly."

"Alright, so, that's one thing. I prefer Dolores."

"Myeah. I know. And I prefer Dolly. It's cute. Like, I let you put Dolores on the marriage certificate--"

"And that's it, that's the fucking thing, it's that every little thing is something you're letting me do. Even when I'm having fun, even when it's good, I'm always so aware that I have to obey you, I have to tiptoe around you."

"That's. What. Mistress. Means."

"Well, I'm sick of it. I want out. God, you know what, I absolutely love fucking other people."

"Mm."

"I'm sure you can relate to that," Dolly turned angry eyes up toward Rose now, "that's why you've been fucking other people too, right?"

A moment spent glaring back at Dolly, and Rose snapped her fingers.

Automatic movement, Dolly went down toward Rose's cock, but Rose stopped her with a fistful of hair, eliciting a yelp. "Rose, c'mon," Dolly whimpered, and then, "nnh!"

Rose was twisting at the hair. "C'mon what? You want my dick don't you?" She snapped again, satisfying to watch Dolly's full-body flinch, yanking hard on her own hair. "Don't you?"

"Yep."

"Then beg me for it."

A furious glare that melted into desperate pleading eyes. "Rose..."

"Beg me. Oh, you little slut, you want my dick so bad, I've hollowed you out and filled you up with me, and now you can't help yourself, you hear the snap," another snap, another sharp twitch, "and you need it. Well, I'm not sure I want your nasty," snap, "cheating," snap, "whore mouth on my beautiful cock. So beg me. Convince me," snap, snap, snap.

"Please, Rose," Dolly sounded on the verge of tears, "please let me suck your cock, I need it, I need it."

Rose smirked. "Tell me you don't deserve it."

"I don't deserve it."

"Tell me you're a nasty cheating whore."

"I'm a nasty cheating whore," now the sobbing had started, "please, let me suck you, I'll make you cum, you know it'll be good."

Rose drew in a long breath, made her wait for it, then said, "Fine," and released Dolly's hair.

Dolly descended on her, and at the sweet sensation of the mouth on her cock drew a gasp from Rose's lips. "Ohhh, you're a good girl," she purred, "at least, for a gross slutty boy."

An annoyed glare from Dolly at that. It amused her, but it was also a pretext for punishment. A hand on the back of Dolly's head, she stuffed the cock deep into her throat, giving shallow thrusts, making sure to not let her breathe. A pleasurable rumble from deep in her belly, "You'd do well to stop giving me such disrespectful eyes, slut. Tasting my cock is a privilege you don't deserve, you should look at me with adoration. If you can't do that anymore, then, ohhh, fuck, maybe I'll just choke you on it. Heh, breathing's a privilege you don't deserve either, little whore."

Her head was buzzing with the fantasy of snuffing Dolly out, and as always, it brought her to the cusp. She wrapped her thighs around Dolly's head and squeezed. "Hnngg, feel how strong my thighs are, bitchboy? Mmmm, wish I could crush the life out of you, I wanna, ah, squish you and, hah, shoot my load into your lifeless--"

She came hard, shattering sadistic bliss, her hips bucked to ram her load down Dolly's throat, moaning like a wounded animal as all the spite poured out of her through the vent that had opened. When it was finished, she released Dolly's head, luxuriating in the familiar sound of her gasping against her crotch.

"Mmm, there you go slut," and Rose ruffled Dolly's hair, "I made you breakfast."

The heavy breathing continued. "Just," Dolly gasped, "just fucking kill me next time."

Multicolor flush of weird emotion at that comment, her post-orgasmic calm splattered with tingles of dread and intrigue. "Oh yeah?"

"I mean it, I," gasping, gasping, "don't wanna fucking live like this, I really don't, and I know," gasping, "there's nowhere I can go, nothing for me outside of this."

Rose was crackling beneath her body; her own stillness was eerie to her. A tender hand pet the back of Dolly's head. "Don't tempt me like that baby," she drawled.

"I know what I'm doing. I said what I said." Dolly was giving her a very serious look now. "And I know you kinda want to."

"Ohhh, I told you baby, I'd miss you too much."

Dolly took in a long breath. "You're gonna be missing me regardless. We're done."

"We are not fucking done," Rose warned.

"And so you might as well... I know it's your biggest fantasy. I could give that to you. One last thing that's special between us."

Rose laid, unspeaking, stroking Dolly. "If I do this," she said, "if I get started with that... I don't think it'll stop with you. Like, heh, I always fantasized about raping boys. Then I started and, uh, kept going." And, of course, she thought but didn't say, she'd been fantasizing about cheating from the moment they were married. Hell, when she was younger she used to fantasize about being in a relationship serious enough that cheating would mean something just so she could do it, seemed delicious to betray someone like that. Still did seem delicious, even though doing it had eaten a hole in her stomach.

Dolly seemed contemplative. "So," she said, "if you start with me, you'd probably kill Angelina too?"

"I think, y'know, anyone I fuck would be at risk, heh."

Dolly held an expectant look. "So that would include Angelina, right?"

Rose looked away. "Stop."

"Cause I tell you what," Dolly's fingers gave a tender stroke on Rose's collarbone, "the idea that you'd be ruined by killing me, finally gone off the deep end, an awful murdering monster until someone stops you... there is some appeal in that. You'd break me, and I'd break you right back. Very intimate."

Rose felt a tragic rush of warmth for Dolly. "I never thought you'd see the appeal of this shit," she murmured, stroking down Dolly's neck.

"Well, you know. I'm a sick fuck, just like you."

"Not just like me. We both know I'm sicker."

"Of course," Dolly said, a warm smile. "But I hope you know me well enough to know that I'm not moved by humanitarian concern for random boys you might fuck after I'm gone. Now, Angelina I do have some fondness for. Maybe if you'd just admit that she'd be at risk, I might just stop tempting you toward this."

"Mm. You know, you're real lucky we're having this conversation right after I came. If I were horny, you might have something to be afraid of."

Dolly shook her head. "Nah. Death isn't something to be afraid of. Everything I really dread is here on this fucking planet. A lifetime spent having to be a man. A lifetime of dealing with people treating me like shit for being a faggot. Or just staying here, letting you control me, watching you cheat. Life with you, or without you."

"Man, like, the cheating that you're so certain I did aside--"

"Oh my God, still?"

"What's even so bad about being with me, huh? Okay, so you have to do what I say, but I thought you liked doing the things I say."

Dolly spent a few moments silent. "I've been thinking about getting a vagina."

Rose let out a heavy scoff. "Don't be silly."

"I mean, I suppose first I'd go to therapy-- heh, one hundred percent chance a therapist would advocate I get away from you-- and they'd probably have me go on hormones to see how I adapt to it... God, I'd probably develop breasts, huh? I hadn't really thought about that."

"Mm." Rose was wearing her displeasure on her body, she knew, muscles stiff and hard, lips tightening.

There was a glee suffusing Dolly as she spoke. Rose could watch her and almost feel the delight infecting her own body. But she didn't like this idea, didn't want to be happy for her, so she held herself taut. Dolly's eyes met Rose's and for a moment Dolly's glee filled in with impish defiant malevolence. "But then, you know the big thing that I've been thinking about is getting a vagina. Get rid of the stupid boy parts, you know, nice clean little girly fuckhole."

"I like your boy parts," Rose replied, firm, unyielding.

Dolly looked down. "I know. Heh, we've never really talked about this, but I guess I just know you too well, of course you don't want this for me. And being with you makes it hard to even think about things you don't want. Displeasing you just becomes unthinkable. Like... I don't know, maybe this is just a fantasy, maybe I wouldn't go through with it, but I don't want to stuff it down just to make you happy. That's the thing, like, just being away from you and, you know," another venomous flash of her eyes at Rose's, "fucking other people, has done a lot to expand--"

"Your asshole."

"What I consider in, like, the world of possible things. And I don't want to go back to," she waved her hand in circles, "how things have been. So I think it should end."

"Mm." Rose was finding this difficult to engage with, still so tired and headachey. The path of least resistance was to be a snide bitch. "All this hope all of a sudden. What happened to wanting to die?"

Dolly shrugged. "I don't think anyone really wants to die, not in any stable sense. You see all the time, those idiots who actually go through with an attempt, like, jump off a building or something, if they survive they talk about thinking, 'Oh, shit I made a mistake.' Before they hit the ground even. So, fine, I let myself be a sulky little emo bitch for a moment there, sorry. I talked myself through it I guess. I don't wanna die."

"Yeah? Well maybe I won't kill you. Maybe I'll just break your spine, leave you immobile and totally dependent on me, a helpless piece of beautiful warm flesh for me to fuck and abuse forever," she kissed Dolly's forehead, "and ever," kiss, "and ever." She stroked Dolly's face now, studying her expression. "There's some appeal in the idea, isn't there sweetest? Don't lie, I can see you thinking about it. Mmmm, so some part of you yearns for death a little, why's that? Freedom from decision-making, freedom from the normal world of work and school and dealing with people, freedom from having to reach for things that might not satisfy. Freedom from having to fucking leave me. See, this achieves all that for you, plus you still get to experience every depraved thing I do to you." She slipped a thumb in between Dolly's lips. "You know you'd miss me if you left me, don't pretend."

Dolly pulled back from the thumb so she could speak. "I miss you already. Things feel different, you know they do."

Rose blinked. "Maybe. If you say so."

She watched Dolly's nostrils flare. "Fake bitch."

"Mm." Automatic impulse to lash out, which she squelched; she wanted a controlled release of aggression here. She gave a firm but measured shove to get Dolly off her body, and stood with her back to the bed, stretching arms over her head. "Man, I've been wearing these clothes since yesterday, I'd probably feel a lot fresher if I got them off, don't you think?"

She glanced behind herself; Dolly had a cautious face, unsure what Rose was playing at. "Makes sense," she said, a voice that didn't manage to be casual.

Rose smirked. Making a show of it, she slid down her skirt, and then her panties, bending over so that Dolly could see her ass as she got the garments off her ankles. "Like what you see?"

"Of course." Dolly still sounded unsure. Good.

There was a length of rope left on the floor from their last bondage video; Rose took it into her hand. "Tell me," she said as she turned around, "just how bad do these panties taste?"

A second savoring Dolly's befuddled face and Rose lunged, taking Dolly underneath her. Rose tried to press the panties into her mouth, but Dolly held her lips shut. So Rose pinched her nostrils until her mouth opened, and Rose could stuff the panties deep into her mouth. Such a thrill to feel Dolly wriggling, and to overcome her resistance; with rough, excited movements, she wrapped the rope around Dolly's torso, binding her upper arms to her body, before wrestling the wrists together and tying the remaining length of rope around them, just enough left to bind the wrists to the rope around her chest, yes, good. "I'm gonna be back," Rose hissed to Dolly, "you better hold still."

She returned from her wall of punishment toys brandishing another piece of rope and a wooden switch, and Dolly was right where she left her. "So obedient," Rose purred as she started tying Dolly's ankles together, "I've trained you well, haven't I? You haven't got it in you to break up with me. Born to serve. Now, Mama needs to make a phone call," and she positioned her ass over Dolly's face, "and I'd like you to be my seat."

She made sure that Dolly's nose was buried in her asscrack as she called Angelina. Ringing, ringing, and Dolly was wriggling again, so Rose whacked her belly with the switch, eliciting a muffled whimper, and she went still. Rose whacked her again anyway, just for fun.

Angelina sounded nervous when she finally answered, "H-hey Rose, what's up?"

"Hiiiiiya Ange, I need to talk to you," Rose sang.

"Okay... why?"

"I dunno, just goin' through some weird shit, wanted someone to bounce some things off, and, y'know," a heavy sigh, "I just can't talk to any of the people here the way I can talk to you."

"Okay. Well, you know, we were gonna see each other tomorrow--"

"No. Today. I'll show up at your dorm, whether you invite me or not. I fuckin' need you Ange, don't be shifty about this."

Rose could just about make out the sounds of Angelina whispering with someone else, probably Dominique. "What if," Angelina said eventually, "we met at the coffee shop in the student center, huh?"

"Did you just consult with your fucking roommate as to whether you can see me? Damn, she's keeping you on a short leash these days, huh?"

A pause. "Anyway," Angelina said, "when were you wanting to meet up."

"Oh, I was just gonna put some clothes on and head over. Sooo, probably ten minutes, less than fifteen. Don't keep me waiting, sweetums."

She hung up, and stood. Looking down, she could see Dolly's resentful glare. "I'm honestly not planning to fuck her, in case that's what you're worried about," Rose said, but it didn't seem to appease Dolly. "Just, heh, need an outside opinion as to what should be done about you."

Dolly still had angry eyes.

"Don't believe me, huh? That's fine." She struck Dolly's belly with the switch, and found satisfaction in the act, so she did it again, and again, throwing her whole body into it, all her frustration and confusion poured into the act of violence, until she saw a little bit of red welling from one of the marks the switch left. "Ohhh, fuck," Rose purred, "you're so fucking beautiful when you're tied up and hurting, God." She rubbed her thumb over the wound so she could spread a streak of blood over Dolly's forehead. "I'm tempted to stay here and just keep hurting you. Would you prefer that? Or would you prefer to be away from me while Angelina and I do," she chuckled, "God, who can say? We're just gonna talk, honest. But if you find yourself missing me, if you find yourself wishing I was still here to give you pain, make sure you let me know whenever I come home and give you your mouth back. Until then," she stood up, "you're not going anywhere. Gotta keep you from wandering now that I know you're a cheating whore."

Once her clothes were on and she was going down the stairs, her thoughts started to catch up with her. Unpleasant. There was this voice in her head that she was desperate to drown out, that maybe.

Well.

Maybe she should let Dolly go. And she wanted to rage against that feeling, tell herself no, bullshit, Dolly was hers. But the fury of being in the room with Dolly was gone, no beautiful bound body to externalize her anger onto, and she was still left with the feeling. Yes, she needed someone to talk to, badly. Maybe Angelina could tell her how to make this work, or maybe she'd try to convince Rose she should let Dolly go, and maybe Rose would be capable of hearing that.

Or maybe Angelina would say the wrong thing, and Rose could punish her about it. She wanted to meet in the student center instead of her room, did she think that made her safer? You're the one who goes to that stupid school, Angelina, you're the one who'd be embarrassed to be wrestled to the ground and fucked in front of all those people, you're the one who'd have to meet their eyes for the next four years. Wouldn't bother me at all.

Her head was still achey, her body stiff and gross. No matter; she stretched her spine until she felt a little crack. Satisfying.

*

To Be Continued