Categories > Celebrities > 30 Seconds to Mars > Blue Hair And Paper Flowers
Four: Rough Play And Cupcakes
0 reviewsRebecca turns to Shannon, a BDSM lover, for some fun.
0Unrated
She didn’t know why she liked it so much, or why it was always the thing she thought about, or why sex with him was so fucking addicting, or how they had started doing it, or even why they had started doing it.
But Shannon Leto was an addicting man, there was no denying it. There was no love in their sex - he had made a clear point of that from day one - it was more of a mutual masturbation, something lonely people did, what they were was usually dubbed as ‘fuck buddies’ or, in a much more elegant way, ‘friends with benefits’. But damn, the rush was perfect. Poignant, quick, jabs of pleasure, most of the times accompanied by sharp, painful bights, bights that left their marks, bights that she always tried to conceal the best she could, bights that made her gasp and grip the bedsheets.
He was rough, and this reminded her so much of the stories she had heard about his brother, with the chocking fetishes and all of that, but whenever he slammed her against a wall or pulled her hair back, pulled it back so hard it made her gasp for air, when he bit or scratched, or whenever she ran a blade along his thigh all she could do was whimper, or shudder as she felt his body tense because of the pain, she would cry and pray and sob, because the feeling was real and she knew that if she did whatever he wanted he would’ve given her so much more.
But they were lonely. It was a deep kind of lonely, the type of lonely that made you stare at the ceiling at night, the type of lonely that made you hug a pillow, the type of lonely that, at least in their case, drew them together, because as much as on the outside they seemed like the best of friends, behind the surface was a type of friendship they both knew was twisted and dark and sick. But although they knew it, they refused to see it, for they had ended up relying on their weekly encounters, and they knew it was becoming an obsession. Soon, the weekly encounters became nightly encounters, savage sex which became even more fascinating - after all, it was nothing but a childish game - now that the risk was higher, now that there was always the fear of being caught, and once or twice she had to run into the bathroom and lock herself in and feel the blood of one of the deeper cuts drip onto the floor as the dangerous sound of Alena’s footsteps rang all around them, causing panic and exhilaration.
Deep down, she knew she deserved the pain he caused her.
“Want a cupcake?”
Shannon’s voice ripped her from her daydreaming and he smirked as he saw her eyes slowly swim back into reality, away from memories. She was sitting in the patio of the house he and his brother shared, feeling the warmth fill her frail bones.
DON’T EAT DON’T EAT DON’T EAT DON’T EAT
Her left arm burned from the bruises.
“Uh…ah…no. No thanks.”
She smiled at him, and their hands touched for an instant, causing their eyes to meet. There was complicity in his. And a thousand other emotions, other thoughts.
But the one that hit her, the one that truly scared her, the one that made her heart stop for an instant was the one emotion she had sometimes feared but never really thought she’d see.
Disgust.
And the guilt crashed down once more, and she realized how terrible the things they did were, and her mind twisted and recoiled and she felt bile creep up her esophagus and then she squeezed her eyes shut until she was sure he had left.
And she was shaking.
Disgust.
Was she not good enough?
But Shannon Leto was an addicting man, there was no denying it. There was no love in their sex - he had made a clear point of that from day one - it was more of a mutual masturbation, something lonely people did, what they were was usually dubbed as ‘fuck buddies’ or, in a much more elegant way, ‘friends with benefits’. But damn, the rush was perfect. Poignant, quick, jabs of pleasure, most of the times accompanied by sharp, painful bights, bights that left their marks, bights that she always tried to conceal the best she could, bights that made her gasp and grip the bedsheets.
He was rough, and this reminded her so much of the stories she had heard about his brother, with the chocking fetishes and all of that, but whenever he slammed her against a wall or pulled her hair back, pulled it back so hard it made her gasp for air, when he bit or scratched, or whenever she ran a blade along his thigh all she could do was whimper, or shudder as she felt his body tense because of the pain, she would cry and pray and sob, because the feeling was real and she knew that if she did whatever he wanted he would’ve given her so much more.
But they were lonely. It was a deep kind of lonely, the type of lonely that made you stare at the ceiling at night, the type of lonely that made you hug a pillow, the type of lonely that, at least in their case, drew them together, because as much as on the outside they seemed like the best of friends, behind the surface was a type of friendship they both knew was twisted and dark and sick. But although they knew it, they refused to see it, for they had ended up relying on their weekly encounters, and they knew it was becoming an obsession. Soon, the weekly encounters became nightly encounters, savage sex which became even more fascinating - after all, it was nothing but a childish game - now that the risk was higher, now that there was always the fear of being caught, and once or twice she had to run into the bathroom and lock herself in and feel the blood of one of the deeper cuts drip onto the floor as the dangerous sound of Alena’s footsteps rang all around them, causing panic and exhilaration.
Deep down, she knew she deserved the pain he caused her.
“Want a cupcake?”
Shannon’s voice ripped her from her daydreaming and he smirked as he saw her eyes slowly swim back into reality, away from memories. She was sitting in the patio of the house he and his brother shared, feeling the warmth fill her frail bones.
DON’T EAT DON’T EAT DON’T EAT DON’T EAT
Her left arm burned from the bruises.
“Uh…ah…no. No thanks.”
She smiled at him, and their hands touched for an instant, causing their eyes to meet. There was complicity in his. And a thousand other emotions, other thoughts.
But the one that hit her, the one that truly scared her, the one that made her heart stop for an instant was the one emotion she had sometimes feared but never really thought she’d see.
Disgust.
And the guilt crashed down once more, and she realized how terrible the things they did were, and her mind twisted and recoiled and she felt bile creep up her esophagus and then she squeezed her eyes shut until she was sure he had left.
And she was shaking.
Disgust.
Was she not good enough?
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