Maniacs! Ch. 04

"I feel like I've been wandering in a land with no water," I confessed to Hollis as I rebandaged his hands and forearms. We stood in the moonlight behind his truck, which I used as a surface for the first aid supplies.

"We're in the desert," he replied flatly.

"Smartass. I meant, before I saw you. All soaking wet and radiant by the on-ramp."

"Ya got on," he chuckled. "Now it's you and me, girl..." His bright tone finished with a sour note of doubt.

"You don't sound sure yet."

"Maybe let me sleep and wake up with you twice before we make the... decide we're soul mates."

I think he might have caught himself reaching for a phrase like "blood pact," but, of course we had just taken care of that--three times over, not counting the blood he'd first taken from me. Suddenly the violence of our lovemaking looked like the cover of a romance novel by comparison to the scene we'd just left over at the cave. Hollis had left Reyna there. The way he'd grounded her where she sat in the dirt using only the word, "Stay!" did things to me. I wanted to be obedient to him like that, to be lavished in commands I could turn into expressions of my own devotion.

Hollis now scrutinized my face. His intent, systematic gaze made me think of a mother animal cleaning its cub and it felt nice, despite his scowl.

"You look dehydrated. I put the water in the tent. Go on, now."

I walked over to the nylon dome that was light reddish-brown, like the environs (and like my hair, come to think.) I stooped, unzipped the door, and went inside. It smelled the same as every tent I'd ever been in: Close, weirdly bodily and also synthetic, summery. I liked it--it evoked intimacy and adventure, too.

Hollis followed close behind, flipping gracefully onto his back from his knees. It was a move that suggested he had a dangerous ground game. Thought of struggling with him, MMA style, invaded my mind. I wanted to give everything and lose to him. How good would that feel!

"The water's over there... thirsty girl," he grinned as he saw me ogling his prone body. He was shirtless and partially cleaned of blood and dirt, but enough remained to make him look... heroic. What we'd done was not heroic. I do know that. This I mention just to convey how far under his spell I am, not so you'll think better of me that I know right from wrong. It's worse that I do, isn't it?

I took one of the liter bottles and guzzled tepid water. It tasted horrible and also completely satisfying. I stopped--better to pace one's intake of a water supply out here where humans are not meant to live, just to be safe.

"More. Ya need it, and you look good drinkin' it like that. I like watchin' your throat work, and when some of it spills out of your mouth, down your front..."

I did as I was told; when I spilled a little, I made it count. Holly stretched his body as much as the confines would allow, arched his spine so hedonistically I nearly choked.

I had been in a parched land where there was no water. Now my cup ran over with Master's water.

I undressed and lay down next to him. That night, the darkness around me belonged to him; it was his darkness that absorbed me as we slept next to each other a second night.

Late the following day, I drove back to my apartment... alone. Hollis' place was in those canyons, not in my bed every night as he must have known I'd have preferred. For now, I'd be able to remain low maintenance, give him his space because, despite the intense closeness we'd shared, he was wild. I understood this. That didn't make it easier to say goodbye. I hoped we wouldn't be apart too long.

I made sure he had my phone number and asked him to call me when he got a new burner phone. He agreed and I did believe him, but I feared he was pulling away from me. He'd been vague about where he'd stay, who'd help him with his wounds. That wasn't a good sign, I knew.

In our last conversation of that first encounter, his biggest concern was that I'd freak out once it hit me that I'd been part of a gruesome triple homicide. This was a valid concern and to say that Holly has a strong survival instinct would be an understatement. I assured him I'd be okay. I'd return to work as if nothing had happened. I had bite marks on my mouth and neck--not hickeys, but evidence of a passion that most normal people (my co-workers) would find indecent. I'd have to hope that my powers of invisibility would keep anyone from noticing.

"I'll keep it together. You've really never been suspected?" I asked.

"Why? Do I look like a killer?" he asked while looking directly into my soul.

"A little, yeah. It's hot. But, I meant, it seems like a small town, isn't it? Doesn't word get around about what you do?" I asked.

"Well, it has to--how else are we gonna sell our product? As for everything else... nobody lives in fuckin' Meggido 'cause they love to talk to cops. 'Sides, I get the idea most folks are scared of me for some reason." His grin never failed to make my pulse race.

"If you did get caught--it would never be because of me. And if you went away, I'd still be yours."

"If I were 'caught,' as ya say, I'd get the chair or whatever they do these days. We wouldn't be havin' no conjugal visits, babe."

"If that happened, I'd confess to my part in it. I'd follow you there, too."

It was a lot to hear. Then again, he'd asked me to see a lot that was hard to process. I figured he could handle my love. What kind of man is scared of a little girl in love? Not mine.

We stood by the open driver's side door of my car. Our kiss goodbye was surprisingly awkward. For some reason, neither of us seemed to know if we did that. Then we couldn't make it stop! We devoured each other, moving our mouths as if speaking so much we couldn't say aloud. I wasn't the one to break the kiss. When I pulled back for air, he advanced to pin me against the side of the vehicle. He rolled his hips into me and kissed me deeper, filthier. It was possessive and I left feeling like his property. I drew on that moment any time I missed him or needed reassurance that I wasn't crazy, that he returned my feelings. I worried more about that than the crime, I admit.

I went to work the next morning. It was a typical Monday, cleaning up weekend chaos. I did my job well, as usual. I had no conversations that weren't work-related and didn't register any peculiar looks my way. Tuesday I was just on autopilot. By Wednesday, I was dragging. I couldn't sleep due to lovesickness. Pathetic, I know. Thursday, I felt like I was going to collapse, so took a sick day on Friday. I was tempted to drive to Meggido just in the hope I'd see him. He still hadn't called and I didn't know how to reach him. I was worried sick about him and angry at the same time, then weepy, then horny and needed to masturbate yet again to fantasies and tactile memories of my lover.

I was taking a hot bath with a bottle of red wine when he finally called. The phone rested close at hand just to mock me.

"Hello?" I said frantically when I saw an unknown number.

"That my property I hear?" replied a sultry gravel voice. My heart pounded even harder.

"Is that you, my love?" I said, not sure using his name on the phone was safe. He has always appreciated my paranoia.

"Yes, darlin'. How 'bout a visit?" he asked.

"Of course! I'd love that. When?"

"Now. I'm outside."

"Like, right outside?" I asked, freaked out by being taken by surprise. I was not at my best.

"Let me in."

"Yes! Yes, one second--I'm in the bath."

"Well, get your wet lil' ass to the door, slut," he chuckled.

I toweled off in a whirlwind, knocking over the bottle and spilling out a glass of cabernet on the tiles. I looked at myself in the steamy mirror--I looked a fright, with frizzy hair that was dry on top and wet at the ends, mascara under my eyes, flushed from both the wine and being completely flustered. I also looked maniacally happy. My belly filled with something akin to butterflies, but calmer, warmer, lower, like a vibration that was an alert my Owner was close.

I decided not to take the time to get dressed. I wrapped the damp towel around me and dashed for the front door. I paused only to look through the peephole to make sure I hadn't been mistaken in some way. He was right there, finally, just on the other side of the door. Even distorted through a fish-eye lens, he was handsome.

"Hollis! I've missed you so much!" I said, not even trying to play this cool.

"Fuck, look at you, Puppy!" he exclaimed as he gripped my shoulders. I felt right away that he wore supple leather gloves--I was already used to the feel of them wrapped in gauze. "Ya look so hot like that... were you expectin' someone else?" he asked.

"Of course not! And I don't look hot... I'm a mess," I laughed. "Do I look like a puppy?"

"Nah, but you're my bitch now, right?" he replied as he bent to inhale my scent from my neck. His breath was cool on my damp skin. I heard him breathing deep through his nose to enjoy the smell of my perfumed bathwater. I did the same with his pungent sweat--he was unwashed and I loved it. "I got ya something," he continued, then licked a stripe up the side of my neck to my earlobe.

He stepped back from me and opened the backpack slung over one shoulder... I hadn't even noticed it as it was hidden behind his broad upper back. It made me happy that he came prepared to stay with me, even if just for a little while.

He reached into the pack to produce a small length of shiny chain, which I recognized as a choke chain for a dog. However, instead of dropping the chain through one of the rings on the end, he draped it around my neck and lined them up. His eyes were clearest blue when they scanned mine, then fastened the chain with a small padlock without asking me again. That wasn't his style--I'd already let him know repeatedly that he Owned me, so I'd asked for it.

The key was tiny and Holly made a show of placing it on his tongue and washing it down with a swig of whiskey from his flask.

"Now you're Puppy 'cause we already said there's just one Holly in Meggido. Plus, I feel weird callin' ya by my name. You're my Puppy dog now," he stated.

"And you don't feel weird fucking a dog?" I teased him.

"I'll fuck ya like a dog... and I won't be too gentle about it if ya keep sassin' me, girl," he growled. He also smiled, more with his eyes than the straight line of his lips. After another swig, he kissed me and thrust his tongue into my mouth. I sucked it happily.

"Mmm, why do ya taste so sweet, Puppy?"

"I was drinking wine. Would you like some?"

"Nah, I don't need no more to drink." With that, he set down his bag and stripped off his grungy clothes where he stood. I let the towel fall to the floor.

"You're so gorgeous," I murmured as his body emerged. He was aroused and wearing nothing but leather gloves that left his arms bare. The burns that I could see had become dry and scabbed but seemed to be healing nicely without infection. "Are your burns still sore?"

"Yeah, a little. I'll live. After that night... well, I paid for it, sorta."

I felt terrible that I hadn't taken into account the fact that he must have been in terrible pain when I obsessed over our last moments together. He'd been remarkably present and kind to me, considering. More than I could have been to anyone.

"And your hands?"

"I figured this would be better for touchin' you. Closer to normal skin, ya know?"

"You are so fucking sweet, Hollis!"

"No. No, I ain't and I may as well tell ya now. If you're gonna be with me, you'll hear things. Reyna... she's the way she is because of me. I mean, Kevin's made it worse, but I did the first damage. I forced her. I was high, I was young and angry with Kevin, with my parents... it wasn't even about her. I didn't even see her as a person. I did feel remorseful after. So I did it again to other girls... a lot of 'em. I just had to convince myself I couldn't help it, that I was made that way...

Everyone knows about me. Girls still wanna fuck me, but never a second time. I can't keep from hurtin' 'em and it's too much for 'em. I never fuck anyone I like... that's easy 'cause I don't like anyone. So now ya know."

I stepped forward and rested my forehead against his chest. I could feel his heart beating steadily. I put my arm around his waist, gently held his hardening cock in my other hand. I felt his breath hitch and then those gloves rest gently on my back.

I realized that the gloves weren't to keep the healing skin off of mine or out of my pussy. He wore them to treat me better, handle me carefully in a way he didn't know how to do yet.

"I don't care what you've done. It happened. Now this is happening," I said.

"I'm still gonna be rough. That's what I like. I think you do, too, Puppy," he stated.

"Yeah, you're right," I breathed. The fact he'd confessed to being even more of a beast than I'd known just made me dizzy with lust. It was the kind of lust that has weight to it, that pulls you...

"Get on your knees."

I was already crumbling before the words left his mouth. I swayed on my hands and knees; if I had a tail, I'd have wagged it.

"Open."

I opened my mouth and Master gripped my messy hair and irrumated me there in the entryway until I lost consciousness. When I woke up on the couch, I could tell that the blanket half-covering me had been placed there by him. I shivered in the cold night air. Holly had opened the sliding door to smoke, which he did in the nude with effortless glamour. His eyes indicated he'd gone far from me. There was usually a lot on his mind and mostly to do with his appetites--pursuing them and their consequences. The rest was the responsibilities that weighed on him as integral to the family business.

"Hey," I said. "How long was I out?"

"Not long. Maybe fifteen minutes. Glad I didn't kill ya--your mouth is so good to fuck."

I smiled and got up, knelt on the couch facing away from him, my arms resting on the back. I arched my bag and wiggled like I figured his puppy girl would.

"I see what ya want," he chuckled. I heard the faint hiss of a cigarette being extinguished in a water glass. I could sense him behind me. The feather-touch of a leather fingertip traced the new chain collar. I'd forgotten! He'd given me what I always wanted. He seemed to think that was some kind of test to prove his dominance, but it was purely a reward for me.

"I love my collar, Master," I thanked him.

"Yeah? You gonna like walking on my leash, too?"

"I will. Are you serious, though?" I was curious if that was something he intended to do in front of people. And what people? His?

"Hell, yeah. I'm gonna treat ya good... like a good dog owner. And nothing could keep ya safer than everyone knowin' you're my property. Fucker'd be suicidal to mess with you, girl."

"Thank you. I love you, you know?" I asked.

"Yeah. You're fuckin' insane. It's okay, though. You can."

Somehow his reassurance it was safe to love him made me happier than 'I love you, too' ever could. What he'd said wasn't open to interpretation.

He slid his fingers into my slick pussy and fucked me with his gloved hand. The leather pulled a little, despite how much it turned me on. I'd burn inside after, I knew this. That just aroused me more, opened the floodgates.

"Jesus, girl, you get so wet!"

"You make me wet... all the time."

"I shouldn't leave you alone so long, I see that now. Puppy like you could get herself in trouble," he said and smacked my ass as hard as he could with his damaged palm, which still knocked me forward.

"Ngh!" I moaned, sounding whorish; it made me blush. This was new. I hoped Master liked it.

"Slut!" he spat, and glided through me to slam into my cervix, making me scream. I'd have to force myself to be quiet--this was a crowded apartment complex and the slider was wide open. I needed him to hurt me and to shut me up, too.

"Baby?" I asked.

He responded with another hard thrust to let me know he wasn't my "baby."

"Yeah, Puppy?" he spoke as he treated me to long, deliberate strokes to make sure I felt all of him.

"Cover my mouth? I don't want to attract attention or have anyone call the cops about the noise."

He obliged me, making sure to avoid my nose. "Can ya breathe? I don't want you passin' out on me again. Wanna make the most of our time."

I murmured and nodded that I was fine. But I was better than fine. I realized I'd gone from nearly slitting my wrists in the tub to wild joy and insane pleasure in less than an hour. And it was all down to him.

That might sound like too much power to let anyone have over you. I agree, it would be with someone less powerful.

He molded his magnificent body around my much smaller one and humped me like an animal with one hand over my mouth and the other on my clit, rubbing it raw on leather-clad fingertips. I shook violently when I came and saw fire behind my eyelids. He felt my orgasm and came with me, emptying days' worth of unexpressed libido, stress, violence, cum deep inside me. I felt all of it, the manic energy, the pain, the heat of his essence. It was then that I knew I was hopelessly addicted, irrevocably possessed.

He pulled out with an obscene wet squish and peeled his hands from me. One was wet with the moisture of my breath. The other was drenched in something new.

"You're a squirter, Puppy," he said like it was praise. He slapped my ass with his wet hand, the resounding *thwack* dangerously loud. He did it again harder and I think I heard him laugh softly like dark music behind me. He was enjoying himself and I loved that he could be free with me. He'd hurt me, told me how he hurt others, hell, made me hurt others, and I only loved him more for it. Unconditional love was a complete novelty for Hollis.

Could he return it? In his way. I knew he could become passionately possessive of me, which I liked. That meant he'd go far to protect me, too. Did he have the capacity to forgive me that I had for him? No, not at all. I still knew he'd kill me if I ever betrayed him. Even if it weren't intentional, that survival instinct would demand I be eliminated.

What if love made him fear he was getting soft? That would certainly present a big risk. It was much better if he didn't love me in any conventional sense of the word. That is, if I wanted to stay alive much longer.

*****

Monday morning I was back at work with fresh bruises and my new collar. Even though I'm not in physical contact with the patients, as a hospital employee and not a top exec, my work attire is a set of scrubs with the hospital logo embroidered on the chest. This did present a problem.

I was called into HR at the end of the day. It was to be a closed-door meeting with one of the ladies who's known for sacking people.

"Is there something we need to discuss?" the woman asked me from behind her office desk.

"Um, you asked to see me... did we get our wires crossed?" I asked, adapting my language to corporate speak.

It was subtle, but she sneered at that. 'Oh, she has contempt for me. Not much I can do with that,' I thought.

"Is something going on at home that you need... assistance with? I'm asking if you're in a bad situation because, honestly, your appearance is a problem."

She spoke to me like I was much younger than her, though we were close enough in age it was just demeaning.

"My appearance?" I asked innocently. "No one's ever said that before, I, um..."

"The recent changes!" she snapped. "You appear to have human bite marks and handprints on your body. You have some bizarre jewelry around your neck--don't think you can BS me about what that thing is."

"I'm fine, thanks. I'm well. Did I make a mistake in my work?"

"There is more to being employed than not making mistakes. There are rules. There's a dress code. There are guidelines for what is appropriate in the workplace. Surely this is not new to you, even if you are from Los Angeles."