Categories > Celebrities > 30 Seconds to Mars > Caught In A Bad Romance
I Don't Answer To Anybody
0 reviewsThe mystery woman lays down a few ground rules for Jared.
0Unrated
The voice is female. Of course she’s a female, she’s wearing high heels; unless she's a drag queen or a transvestite. I realise that I’m thinking too much about useless things, and think about what I’m going to ask her first. I need to know why I’m here, and what this woman wants to do with me.
Oh my God, Jared. Shut up.
Her voice is loud, strong and sultry. Sexual, almost. Shit, I’m tied to a chair, and shirtless in a woman’s presence, which is never a good thing. The silence seems to last a lifetime, and I don’t want to say anything just in case it gets me into trouble. This usually happens. My big mouth always gets me into some kind of trouble. I should just learn to shut the fuck up before I get myself killed.
“How was your sleep? I thought you’d never wake up.” She asks politely.
I don’t answer; I just remain silent, pondering my own thoughts. How long have I been asleep for? A long time? There must be a damn clock around here somewhere. What time is it? It’s dark and shadowy outside, but it’s the middle of August, so it must be late. The windows are slightly ajar and the white mesh curtains are fluttering about in the gentle wind, this lets in a slight chill, which makes me shiver a little, leaving weird little goose bumps all over my arms and torso.
“Who are you and why am I here?” I ask quietly.
I try to sound fearless and confident, with a load of bravado, even though I’m scared stiff. I really hope she doesn’t realise this. Keeping my breathing steady, I wait nervously for her answer as she paces up and down the room, her heels still tapping rhythmically on the floorboards. Why won’t she tell me? She doesn’t have a lot to hide, since we’re alone, I’m practically defenceless and her name doesn’t particularly matter to me all that much.
“The thing is, sweetie, I don’t answer to anybody, and I especially don’t answer to you. You, on the other hand, will answer to me and to me only. Got it?”
She hasn’t revealed her face to me yet. She’s just a stranger. Her voice is disembodied, but I recognise it from somewhere. I’ve heard her voice before, I’m sure of it. She creeps up from behind me and I feel long, bony fingers wrap around my neck, caressing it, stroking the lump protruding from my throat, tracing the contours of my chest, down to my toned abs, and then grabbing my cock. I blush uncontrollably and hope she doesn’t notice, because it will appear that I’m a prissy little virgin that’s having sex for the first time.
“Um... okay.” I smirk.
Hearing the overconfident tone in my voice, she gets angry, close to livid. She knows that I’m not worried anymore, because she’s just a woman with a few straps and belts. To be honest, she sounds like a total nutjob. She may be good with words and she may be good at threatening me, but she’s just a woman and she means absolutely nothing to me. I could quite easily do this to her, too.
“My my, aren’t you cocky?” She laughs maliciously, a patronising tone to her voice.
Is that a compliment? How do I respond to that? Should I respond at all? Fuck, pull yourself together, idiot!
“Is that a compliment?”
Silence again. She makes no noise; I can’t even hear her breathe. Then a dark figure comes from behind me and stares into my eyes, no emotion, no passion... it’s her. The girl I met at the bar! She has the same muddy brown eyes and the same jet black hair. I knew I recognised the voice from somewhere!
“Listen to this very carefully, Leto. You are mine now, so don’t try any funny shit with me! I swear to God if there is any of this cocky bullshit I will beat you. Understand?”
She’s very forceful and assertive with me this time. She knows what she wants, and she’ll get it, no matter what it takes. I’ve noticed that her nostrils flare when she gets pissed off with me, and this time, I nearly laugh out loud. My God, she’d probably kill me if I even sniggered. Either that or she’d cut one of my limbs off. She seems like a complete psycho bitch, and I need to get away quickly.
“I wouldn’t dare.”
And so the flattery begins, I try to sweet-talk her into letting me go. That is my only plan, and I hope she falls for it. It’s either that, or I beg, which I don’t want to do.
Oh my God, Jared. Shut up.
Her voice is loud, strong and sultry. Sexual, almost. Shit, I’m tied to a chair, and shirtless in a woman’s presence, which is never a good thing. The silence seems to last a lifetime, and I don’t want to say anything just in case it gets me into trouble. This usually happens. My big mouth always gets me into some kind of trouble. I should just learn to shut the fuck up before I get myself killed.
“How was your sleep? I thought you’d never wake up.” She asks politely.
I don’t answer; I just remain silent, pondering my own thoughts. How long have I been asleep for? A long time? There must be a damn clock around here somewhere. What time is it? It’s dark and shadowy outside, but it’s the middle of August, so it must be late. The windows are slightly ajar and the white mesh curtains are fluttering about in the gentle wind, this lets in a slight chill, which makes me shiver a little, leaving weird little goose bumps all over my arms and torso.
“Who are you and why am I here?” I ask quietly.
I try to sound fearless and confident, with a load of bravado, even though I’m scared stiff. I really hope she doesn’t realise this. Keeping my breathing steady, I wait nervously for her answer as she paces up and down the room, her heels still tapping rhythmically on the floorboards. Why won’t she tell me? She doesn’t have a lot to hide, since we’re alone, I’m practically defenceless and her name doesn’t particularly matter to me all that much.
“The thing is, sweetie, I don’t answer to anybody, and I especially don’t answer to you. You, on the other hand, will answer to me and to me only. Got it?”
She hasn’t revealed her face to me yet. She’s just a stranger. Her voice is disembodied, but I recognise it from somewhere. I’ve heard her voice before, I’m sure of it. She creeps up from behind me and I feel long, bony fingers wrap around my neck, caressing it, stroking the lump protruding from my throat, tracing the contours of my chest, down to my toned abs, and then grabbing my cock. I blush uncontrollably and hope she doesn’t notice, because it will appear that I’m a prissy little virgin that’s having sex for the first time.
“Um... okay.” I smirk.
Hearing the overconfident tone in my voice, she gets angry, close to livid. She knows that I’m not worried anymore, because she’s just a woman with a few straps and belts. To be honest, she sounds like a total nutjob. She may be good with words and she may be good at threatening me, but she’s just a woman and she means absolutely nothing to me. I could quite easily do this to her, too.
“My my, aren’t you cocky?” She laughs maliciously, a patronising tone to her voice.
Is that a compliment? How do I respond to that? Should I respond at all? Fuck, pull yourself together, idiot!
“Is that a compliment?”
Silence again. She makes no noise; I can’t even hear her breathe. Then a dark figure comes from behind me and stares into my eyes, no emotion, no passion... it’s her. The girl I met at the bar! She has the same muddy brown eyes and the same jet black hair. I knew I recognised the voice from somewhere!
“Listen to this very carefully, Leto. You are mine now, so don’t try any funny shit with me! I swear to God if there is any of this cocky bullshit I will beat you. Understand?”
She’s very forceful and assertive with me this time. She knows what she wants, and she’ll get it, no matter what it takes. I’ve noticed that her nostrils flare when she gets pissed off with me, and this time, I nearly laugh out loud. My God, she’d probably kill me if I even sniggered. Either that or she’d cut one of my limbs off. She seems like a complete psycho bitch, and I need to get away quickly.
“I wouldn’t dare.”
And so the flattery begins, I try to sweet-talk her into letting me go. That is my only plan, and I hope she falls for it. It’s either that, or I beg, which I don’t want to do.
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