Page 31 of Painter's Obsession: Volume II

“You know, I thought I would have to stop creating now that I’m kind of a fugitive—but this is fun,” I say, spreading the blood across his chest.

Both of us are on our knees, but only one has submitted.

“Thank you for being my muse, inspiration, and canvas,” I say, as I finish the only thorn that sticks out of the thin stem I carved into his chest.

“My Thorn,” I whisper, before leaning in, using my tongue to clean off the blood on his chest, and my hand moves down to his hardened cock.

“You enjoy our game so much, but no more fun for you. Now it’s my turn,” I say before standing, my thumb moving to his lips as my other hand strokes my cock. Blood covering my pierced member.

“See this?” I show him the ladder under my cock. “I did them for you. So you can enjoy it. Mouth or ass?” I ask, giving him a choice—but I didn’t care about his answer. He took too long, so ass it is.

“Get on all fours, pet. Laydown and let your owner claim you.”

He fights it, but I slap him. Grabbing the knife again, I place it on his throat. I don’t actually need him on all fours. Positioning myself behind him, I spit into my free hand while my other hand remains on the knife that sits against his neck.

Using as much spit as I can, I lube up my cock, then spit some more on my fingers and massage it around his tight hole. His body shivers against mine.

I don’t go hard. I take my time, letting him sit in his shame under the stars. I make love to him. Corrupting him, I press into his back, my nose running along his skin... poisoning him. Forcing his will to bend to mine. Slowly, I push harder against him, my knife still on his neck as I kiss the length of his neck. He moans softly, and I do too. We are both here. Present. Enjoying it. And I feel something strange—something that makes this too much. Gritting my teeth, I pick up my pace and fuck him harder.

“Fu—“ he begins to say, but the pain quiets him. I feel the warmth of blood on my hand, so Idrop the knife, afraid I’ll kill him. I push his face into the dirt and fuck him until there’s nothing left but cum and shame.

Chapter Seventeen

Byron

“Mmm that’s it.” the sound of Kevin’s voice followed by the sharp sound of skin slapping and in sync with the soft moans of my sister. It’s my own personal melody, one I’ve grown to loath. I swear he has the sound on replay just to torture me, the hunger didn’t bother me… but knowing I can’t protect her, that hurts. That’s the true torture.

“Who’s your daddy?” and with that I almost lose my complete fucking shit. “REN!” I shout but it’s no use. Ren isn’t coming for my punishment. I don’t know how long it’s been since I saw Ren, I just been heredying slowly. The days have passed by slowly... blending together with hunger. I don’t even know how long it’s been since I ran, and I took him under the stars thinking I had won. The door only opens when I’m asleep, so I know he’s been looking. Aware of my current state.

Watching how slowly he’s killing me with the sounds of my sister’s voice filling the underground space. It’s hell.

Crushing my hands to my ears, I smack them over and over.

“Make it stop!” I yell. “REN!”

But there’s no stopping this, the hell Ren created... There’s no stopping my torture, but I need to endure for her. But fuck, I’m struggling.

I’m starving.

Weak and cold.

The sounds of Gabriela fill the room, the moans over and over. I’ve listened to Kevin play my sister like a fiddle. The wolf is inside our home and my sister doesn’t even know, she doesn’t know the danger she is in.. I need to win. I can’t let him break me down... no matterhow much he’s tried... No matter how far I sink into the darkness, I have to save her, even if, in the end, it means destroying myself.

“REN!” I scream again weakly, my voice hoarse from yelling into the void. Even my nail beds are torn from digging into the soil trying to find the camera or the speaker.

To make it stop.

I couldn’t listen to my sister being devoured while I let him tear me down. What if I break and there’s nothing left to save us both. I’m aware and Gabby isn’t. There is no choice but to break. I look at the plates piling up in the corner. Flies buzz around them and I can see the maggots moving in the dark on the rotting meat. Ren continually tries to feed me. The smell of the rot and human waste is overbearing. I hiccup, staring into the void, trying to bite back the humiliation, the acknowledgment that it’s working....

My dad’s voice whispers over and over.“Maricón, weak...” as the sting from his belt ghosts my back. “I didn’t raise a bitch.” Another lash. “I raised aman.”More lashes come, harder and harder. I bring my legs towards my chest and curl into the fetal position.

Theresita’s cold hands cup my cheek, and I look at her face, caved inward, the bat Ren used engraved in her head over and over. Teeth are missing, but her eyes remain the same.

Glassy. Teary. And dead.

She doesn’t say anything, her mere presence is my haunt.

“Ren,” I whisper into the ground, calling out to the God who has shunned me—a cruel God who won’t hear my prayers.

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