Maniacs! Ch. 08

Editor's note: this work contains scenes of fictional rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, consensually non-consensual (CNC), or non-consensual sex or scenarios.

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Our game would have been worth playing for the sheer thrill of it, but I thought it would heighten the experience for both of us to know there was a good chance I'd get pregnant that night. I bought an ovulation kit to test myself. Since I always bled at the full moon, it would only be a half-moon to light the way as I ran through the canyon. But that was better than no moon at all and it was the best night of the month to conceive.

I got ready hours before I'd drive out to the designated starting point. My outfit consisted of trail running shoes that covered the ankles to protect me a little from snakebites and sprains, thick leggings for warmth and Hollis liked the way my legs looked in them, a cropped running top, flannel-lined denim jacket, and a red scarf. As I arranged that over my collar it reminded me of a red rag to a bull, but instead of running in a crowd of nutcases through Pamplona, it would just be us two lunatics down in the desert canyons of Meggido.

Out of necessity, I had a small pack with water, sunscreen, and a hat just in case for some unfortunate reason I evaded my hunter and ended up in the desert the following day. I'd burn to a crisp, otherwise. "I'm 99 percent sure I can't lose ya, but stranger things have happened. People do get real turned around out there. I never been lost, but I've heard of people who were just goin' in circles for days. I will find you," he'd said emphatically, "but just in case it takes longer, you should have a water bottle. Ya got a compass?"

"They just confuse me. I don't know if that would help, to be honest. I'm dumb."

"Nah, ya ain't. You can do things I can't do," he said, generously. Hollis may be many things, but insecure isn't one of them. Just being him is enough and he knows it--he doesn't have to act like a know-it-all. "I don't mean to scare you; I won't let ya get away from me."

I did smile at that: He didn't mean to scare me, just terrify me a bit before attacking me out in the dark empty canyon.

"I trust you. You know I do," I said and smiled at him.

"Yeah," he agreed and gave me that enigmatic straight-lipped smile that showed off his handsome features. "It's good that ya do, considering you chose me to be your baby daddy."

Was that how it happened? I didn't see it that way at all. Holly had told me that I was his and that I would do this for him because it was what he wanted. Still, I could have said no... right? When you've submitted as deeply as I had to him, it's hard to say for sure how much free will remains. In theory, I can tell him 'no.' In reality, I can't bring myself to deny him anything. But I did want this, too, I just didn't "choose" him the way he made it sound. If he wants to think that, I won't complicate the issue.

We'd planned that I wouldn't see him that day. Kind of like a traditional wedding, in a weird way, where the couple is kept apart until the ceremony. He was out doing whatever it is he does when he's not cooking. That's not a full-time job, but I know he does more than that for the family business. He's vague about it. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was having an affair. I can tell it's not that because he comes home dirty and not smelling at all female. He also demands sex right away like he's waited too long to be satiated. I think he's just a guy with secrets and I don't mind. I mean, I already knew he's a criminal with fingers in many pies, as they say.

There was one night I was troubled because it's different to not know where he is after dark. He got in after midnight and went right into the bathroom. I heard the shower running. Then, he called for me. He asked if we had more shower gel, but it was just an excuse to let me see the blood sluice from his body.

"Yours?" I asked.

"Uh-uh," he answered, studying my face.

I reached into the cabinet and handed him the new bottle. "Do those get incinerated?" I asked about the sickly-smelling, crusty clothes on the floor.

He shook his wet hair. "Nah, I'll get it, babe."

He just wanted me to see. I think he wanted me to know he wasn't cheating. It was sweet.

Yes, perhaps I did choose him to be my "baby daddy." He's daddy material, as they say. And the night had come when I'd put his daddy material to good use.

I drove out to a crossroads where there was a long-abandoned gas station. I wondered if it had suddenly closed for business when Hugo opened his place. I'd be able to park behind the building so my empty vehicle didn't attract the attention of any patrol cars. It would be like the "Meg-ville" cops to get bored enough to investigate an unfamiliar car on the roadside in the middle of nowhere.

I walked across the wasteland toward the horizon directly behind the station, as Holly had plotted out. He said I'd find a natural path down to a dry creek bed that led into a canyon he particularly liked. When I asked him why he said it was the part of Megiddo where he'd always felt most at home. It was narrow with lots of twists and turns, good for rock climbing and hiding out. I realized it was his childhood playground. When he got older, it was where he'd honed his talents.

He told me I'd be the first girl he brought there who'd come out alive. The place was too important to him to cheapen by sharing it with a living bitch.

"Will I find bones there?" I asked him.

"Maybe. Not whole skeletons--the flash floods and animals break those up. But if ya looked, you'd probably find a human bone or two."

Something told me his first time had been in this place. That same intuition told me not to ask.

I found the steep path down to Master's sacred ground. I felt flattered he'd assumed I'd have no trouble with the descent--the gravel came loose under my feet and I ran against my will until I reached the nadir. So, already I felt out of control as my feet sprang off the ground like I was a puppet on a string. I was wide awake by the time I came to a stop. I wondered if he'd seen that and the pride changed to embarrassment. Pride comes before nearly wiping out while flying down a hill--isn't that the saying?

I felt myself going numb with fear as I approached the entrance to the canyon. What was soothing to Master, like Nature herself holding him, made me feel claustrophobic. I pictured those dark red rock walls slamming together and crushing me. I was full of dread at what could be lurking so close by in the shadows, ready to grab me. Even if it was Master, I anticipated that jump scare and feared the second of panic it would induce before I melted in his arms.

Then I realized: 'You aren't scared. You're Holly's girl, how can you be scared? You're the one to be feared. You're the dark thing lurking in the shadows to terrify most people. Besides, you love horror movies: Now you're living one! Isn't this better than Netflix?'

My fear subsided. My pulse stayed speedy, but only because I was excited. I found it hard to breathe normally because the susurration was grated in this place. I walked forward into the night with confidence. It was now too dark to see, so I took out my flashlight. Now I could see where I was going, but I was prey, once again.

I thought of Master, what it must be like to be him: So fearless, so powerful, strong physically but stronger still in his mind and his soul. I was in awe of him and that's what had always been missing from my relationships, even the attempts at a D/s relationship. I needed to feel that utterly bewildered admiration that made me want to kneel and worship. When I laid eyes on Hollis, I went fast down a rabbit hole. He was an angel to me.

I strode through the dark swinging my arms a little and grinning, happy as when I was a kid and my school burned down and we all got to go home early. That was a good day. Then I heard a stone skitter somewhere behind me. The sound was faint; it might not have been human-caused. It happened again. My heart raced. Was it time to run?

I froze and was unable to make myself turn and look. Then I was running as if I were trying to beat the devil himself.

I raced deep into the twisting chasm. Just when it seemed like it would open up into a larger canyon, the path turned and narrowed again. It grew darker and colder as if the sun feared this place, too, and reminded me of the bottom of the deepest parts of the ocean. How many miles had it been? Three? Less than one? My lungs didn't even burn and it seemed I was propelled by adrenaline and not air. There was no air at the bottom of the sea, anyway.

Something (someone) caught my scarf, and it compressed my windpipe, suddenly. I was forced to stop. I turned. The black-clad figure backhanded me across the face and I stumbled back. In my shock, I'd dropped the flashlight and it cast its yellow light from below us. My automatic response to this was to catch myself in a fighting stance, fists up in front of my face.

He laughed, but it wasn't snide; it was delighted, a little wordless expression of surprise. Though I loved him with all my heart, my back foot snapped around in a spinning round kick, my strongest move. I could have connected with his jaw, but I did pull back--I couldn't help it. My foot struck his muscled shoulder hard enough to surprise him. He growled.

Shit. I didn't have a follow-up for someone like him! This was not at all an evenly-matched fight. He rushed forward to collide with me, his hands covering my ass to lift me high and then slam me on the freezing ground. I was blinded by pain and then saw shooting stars: I'd fractured my coccyx. As I writhed and hissed before him I thought, 'Well, there is no treatment for this, anyway. They can't put a cast on it, I'll just ice it later.' I didn't want to stop; Hollis did not attempt to comfort me.

I looked up and took in his face for the first time today. I wondered if he'd wear a mask of some kind. He did not, but may have well as been. His countenance was that of a beautiful, cold predator. I propped myself up on my elbows and was still, waiting for his next move.

"That all ya got? You're givin' in so soon?" he taunted.

I didn't think I could stand up just then. Gingerly, I freed myself from the shoulder straps of my small running pack.

"Why don't you come find out?" I replied through gritted teeth as I smiled up at him.

Master gracefully lunged downward to pin me but I rolled quickly to one side. It left him on his hands and knees for a second and I covered his body with mine. Instantly, I was overwhelmed with attraction to the contours of his powerful body and his wonderful musky scent. I breathed in his sweat and dirty hair and delectable neck. Then I pulled hard on his left arm, causing him to collapse.

Holly shook with laughter as I had him almost "pinned."

"Ya even fight like a puppy, Puppy girl," he rumbled beneath me, then he simply flipped over to lie on his back with me trapped between his warm back and the punishing ground. Breathing heavily, I inhaled him again, then bit him hard on the back of the neck. I was not expecting the sound that drew from him: It was a sweet moan, purely sexual. I felt the shudder go through him, all along the length of my body.

Then he was hovering above me, gazing down at me with eyes dilated black. I thought he was reaching to unzip, but he went for the hunting knife on his belt instead. He made sure I got a good look at it for a long, frightening moment, then ran the flat of the blade across my exposed belly. He teased me like this, scaring me to death as he traced my ribs, then down over my leggings to my crotch. There he turned the point toward my cunt as if he was going to plunge it into me, but he merely cut through the center seam of the leggings to open them up. 'And it's so easy to just pull them down,' I recall thinking. Easy access was one of the reasons I chose them. Oh well, another article of clothing shredded by Master.

He was so careful not to cut me, my thong remained intact. He sliced that away, too. He set the knife down across my stomach and brought his fingertips to my pussy. He explored the slick flesh and grunted like a beast. I anticipated a smug remark about how slutty I am for him, but he didn't feel like talking to me. He knelt between my spread legs and picked up the knife, this time to cut through my top, then my sports bra to reveal my small tits with their painfully hard nipples. He gave each a possessive, rough squeeze that made me whine, then made me whine for more. He was not taking requests tonight.

He unzipped his canvas work pants and pried his hard on from his underwear. He gripped it and pulled slowly up and down, making a show of it, teasing me with it because he knows how I crave it. His sexy display was his way of calling me a slut without saying a word because I opened up so wet at the sight of him.

Every part of me wanted to reach for him, draw him to me, and give him a loving and filthy kiss to drive any remaining doubt about my devotion from his mind. I knew he needed something more than that, though.

I swiftly grabbed the knife by the handle and slid it off to the side into the shadows. Then I scrambled back out of his control in a painful crab-like crawl. I hopped to my feet with my tattered clothes hanging obscenely off me. Then I ran again, though this time I limped. I didn't look back but heard another impressed chuff from Master, who didn't mind at all if I made this harder. He even gave me a head start as he tucked his erection back into his pants. Then he ran after me in his graceful, loping stride.

I soon felt his iron grip on my shoulder. I turned and shoved him back with a harsh grunt of frustration at my weakness. Then I pivoted to evade him again.

"You're makin' me love you," he purred sweetly. He caught me again, wrapped me in his arms as I thrashed and fought him, snarling. The urge to fight warred with my need to mate with him, like the female of a carnivorous species. When he bit my neck, I made the mistake of twisting in his embrace. The resulting rending sound of my skin made me queasy, as well as the blinding pain, the wet drip down my collarbone.

Master threw me to the sand once again and circled my panting, broken body. He stood between my ankles, then kicked my knees apart. I tried to cover my spread, bare cunt, but he kicked my thighs open wider. "Mine!" he barked in a tone that made goosebumps break out all over my tits and tightened my nipples as if he'd trapped them in clamps.

He got down on one knee and produced a switchblade from his boot.

"You can be a good girl, or I'm gonna carve a little reminder about how to behave yourself into this sweet spot here," he said. The point of the knife pierced the meaty white mound below my red surgical scar. "Maybe I should anyway," he mused and dragged the blade to make a matching horizontal line below the healed mark. He watched it bleed a moment, then bowed his head to taste it.

I craned my neck to enjoy the view of his shoulders in that almost child's pose. I couldn't help but break the character of his furious victim to reach for him and twist his damp hair in my fingers. I learned he enjoys this; he moaned contentedly while he sucked my dripping blood until it clotted.

He crawled up to trap me between his elbows and hovered above me. He thrust his tongue between my lips. I surrendered--my fight had been mostly for his pleasure, but I couldn't sustain it. I wanted him too much to pretend otherwise. I caressed his tongue with mine and moaned into his mouth so he could feast on his own name.

He slid his fingers into my pussy to displace the reserve of thick goo my fear and arousal had produced. The sound could have been an animal feeding on a fresh kill. "Fuck, girl," he breathed into my ear. "You're dyin' for me to put a baby in ya."

"Master! I want you inside me. Please!"

He entered me with exaggerated slowness to make me feel the punishing stretch. Then, inch by inch, he tortured me by going too deep then withdrawing to make me chase him. My broken tailbone screamed every time I bucked my hips to fill myself with more of him. I dug into his arms and waist with my nails and spasmed around his impaling shaft.

"I can't believe you're finally here," he whispered harshly as he found a rhythm that was going to carry us to ecstasy.

"What do you mean, Daddy?" I asked. "Was I late tonight? I'm sorry I screwed up!"

"Nah, I mean, in this place... it's like my home and it used to drive me crazy when I'd come here and jerk off... a woman was supposed to be here." Mac slowed inside me for just a moment; I could tell this was important if he'd choose words over a good, hard fuck. "It was you. If I hadn't almost got myself killed, I'd be here jerkin' it or stalkin' someone."

"Well, I'm yours now, so you don't have to hurt yourself again. I love you, Master."

Hollis' voluptuous moan finished with a happy, "I know."

He shifted to position his hips with a slight slant so that he glided up the side of my passage, getting deeper inside me in a way that was all pleasure, no abuse to my cervix. He found nerve endings that no one had ever touched before. It felt incredible, especially when he rested more of his weight on top of me. I loved everything about his body and being trapped beneath it was like flying. It was freedom from all past hurts, even with cuts, bruises, and breaks.

He wasn't sweating liquid drops but gave off a warm humidity that was like a sweet-smelling greenhouse. I think I was hallucinating. I wondered if perhaps I was feeling the effects of his meth habit after kissing him deeply with my tongue all over the interior of his mouth, adoring even the flavor of his decaying teeth. I pressed on the back of his head to demand even more. He kissed me rougher, fucked me faster. I felt him grow impossibly harder inside me and knew how close to orgasm he was. I realized I could come whenever he permitted it.

"I'm gonna get ya pregnant now," he rasped against my lips. "Beg me not to," he added.

I wasn't expecting that! I knew he loved me and as wonderful a partner as he was, his sexuality was still very dark indeed. He was still a rapist. With me, he could act it out without hurting anyone. I hoped that could continue to be enough to satisfy his violent appetite.

"Please! Please, Hollis, don't come inside me! I can't have a baby! Please don't get me pregnant--I'll be in so much trouble. Please, don't make me..."

He stopped my play-acting with a large palm clamped tight over my mouth. He gripped my face hard enough to leave fingertip-shaped black and blue marks like dalmatian spots. When he spoke, he hardly sounded like himself; his voice had the strange tone of someone who can't hear himself over background noise. It seemed like his head was full of static that was drowning him out.

"Shut up, slut! I'm gonna fill ya up with cum and you'll grow my baby inside you. This tight little body's gonna be ruined when I'm done with it. You're gonna have tits, and you'll wear what I tell ya so you'll leak milk all over yourself. Imma keep ya pregnant from now on..."

It sent me over the edge, maybe because it was simply so perverse, maybe that it spoke to an animal urge deep within me. When Master felt me start to come around his cock, he freed my mouth so he could hear every sob and shriek of my orgasms. The canyon seemed to swallow them like sins.

He screamed, too. It was a thrilling, masculine sound I wanted to hear again and again. If that meant keeping me knocked up, so be it. His body knew what we were there to do that night--he poured loads of cum as deep as he could force himself inside me. I felt it burning and heavy, hot, alive, changing me. Like animals, we stayed joined together as more shudders racked his body, more fluid released to give him the absolute dominance over me he craved. I remembered what he'd told me: That when I had his baby, I'd be his real family. I held him tight and petted his supple back.