Categories > Celebrities > 30 Seconds to Mars > Caught In A Bad Romance
She backhands me and I feel the hard slap across my cheek, it throbs and stings like a bitch. I don’t deserve this. I haven’t done anything to deserve this. Have I upset her? Did I say anything to her last night that may have hurt her feelings? Nothing that would mean I deserved this kind of treatment. Something I’ve done must have induced this intense anger though.
“You carry on like that and your punishment will be even more painful.”
“Is that a threat or a promise? I’m intrigued.” I reply smugly trying to meet her eyes. She keeps her gaze averted from my own.
As she gets up, I feel the pounding of my heart increase. It hammers violently inside my chest. I can swear it's increased by over a hundred beats per minute. She has such an unnerving effect on me. She walks over to the bed on the other side of the room and there are a few strange objects lying on it. My eyes are drawn to them in curiosity as she runs her hands over them slowly. What is she looking at? The bed can’t be that exciting, surely.
“What will I do with you, Mr. Leto?” She asks with a wicked grin.
“Let me go, maybe. That would be a start.”
She chuckles cruelly, still not making any eye contact with me. What could she be plotting? There’s not a lot she can do to me, except hit me, which she’s already done. After this, she walks behind me, so I can’t see what she’s doing. I just keep my eyes forward just in case she takes another blow to my face. Suddenly, she drags her razor-sharp nails along my shoulders and down my spine, which makes me moan with pleasure. I curse myself for doing so and prepare for the worst as she brings herself closer to me.
She forces a gag in my mouth and all I can taste is cheap, bitter leather. After this, she fastens it so tight I think it might split and rip the sides of my mouth. My cheeks burn bright red again with shame, embarrassment and frustration and I could cry, but I won’t. I have to remain calm, or she’ll think I’m afraid of her.
“That should keep you quiet for a while. No more sarcastic comments, hopefully.”
She walks in front of me, her strides long and springing. She looks down at me, a smile on her face as she perches on my lap. Keeping one hand clamped on my unshaven jaw, she kisses my neck softly. Her yielding lips are warm and leave crimson imprints behind, from the vivid red lipstick she's wearing. I want to resist her, I know this isn't right, but it just feels so damn good. Her hand lowers down to my pants, and she grabs my cock, massaging it through the black fabric.
Don’t ever take your hands off of me.
I can feel myself harden and I hope desperately that she doesn't notice. I try to close my legs to hide the solidity, but she’s sat right there on my lap, preventing me from moving anywhere. I'm immobile. I can't move, or do anything. She has me right where she wants me, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
Oh God. Now isn’t the right time! Fuck!
Now it's my turn to avoid her eyes. I can't meet her gaze. I daren't. If I do, I’ll blush again. The sensation of the heat burning in my cheeks still hasn’t' gone from the last time. I feel like such a fucking idiot. I will never live this down.
“Why won’t you look at me? Come on, look into my eyes.”
I can’t even bring myself to glance at her. She’s beautiful, stunning, but she’s an evil bitch. A sadist too, but so am I. I harm people for kicks, particularly women. I objectify them; I use them for my sexual fantasies. If I’m not satisfied, I toss them away like toys I’ve had enough of playing with. And yes, I enjoy it. People think I’m a cruel bastard, but the truth is, the hurt I cause people doesn’t concern me at all. Then I realise we’re like two peas in a pod. We’re exactly the same.
“If you don’t look at me, I’m going to have to collar you.” She purrs.
Do it, for fuck’s sake.
I couldn’t care less if she collared me or not. Right now, I feel nothing, I don’t retaliate. I keep my head bowed and my eyes down so we don’t make eye contact again. I need an escape; I need to get away from her. Yet again, she goes over to the king-size bed and chooses an object. My very own posture collar, I guess.
“I bought this for you because I knew that you’d need it. You’re a fidget, Mr. Leto.”
She puts the leather piece around my neck, making my movement even more restricted. I’m forced to keep my eyes forward and my neck straight. I’m now gagged and collared. I struggle more violently this time and she laughs as I get even angrier me lose my temper. It’s now compulsory that I look at her big, perky breasts, and that embarrasses me even more. She’s really going all the way.
“You’re so cute when you struggle.” She giggles.
Fucking hell. She patronises me and treats me like I’m five years old, or a retard and I don’t like this at all. I glare at her, so she knows that I’m not happy. I want revenge and I’m going to get my own back. I am not cute, I never will be, and if she ever calls me that again, I’ll kill her. I will skin her. If I could, I would hang her from the ceiling and asphyxiate her. That would make me the happiest man in the world.
“You carry on like that and your punishment will be even more painful.”
“Is that a threat or a promise? I’m intrigued.” I reply smugly trying to meet her eyes. She keeps her gaze averted from my own.
As she gets up, I feel the pounding of my heart increase. It hammers violently inside my chest. I can swear it's increased by over a hundred beats per minute. She has such an unnerving effect on me. She walks over to the bed on the other side of the room and there are a few strange objects lying on it. My eyes are drawn to them in curiosity as she runs her hands over them slowly. What is she looking at? The bed can’t be that exciting, surely.
“What will I do with you, Mr. Leto?” She asks with a wicked grin.
“Let me go, maybe. That would be a start.”
She chuckles cruelly, still not making any eye contact with me. What could she be plotting? There’s not a lot she can do to me, except hit me, which she’s already done. After this, she walks behind me, so I can’t see what she’s doing. I just keep my eyes forward just in case she takes another blow to my face. Suddenly, she drags her razor-sharp nails along my shoulders and down my spine, which makes me moan with pleasure. I curse myself for doing so and prepare for the worst as she brings herself closer to me.
She forces a gag in my mouth and all I can taste is cheap, bitter leather. After this, she fastens it so tight I think it might split and rip the sides of my mouth. My cheeks burn bright red again with shame, embarrassment and frustration and I could cry, but I won’t. I have to remain calm, or she’ll think I’m afraid of her.
“That should keep you quiet for a while. No more sarcastic comments, hopefully.”
She walks in front of me, her strides long and springing. She looks down at me, a smile on her face as she perches on my lap. Keeping one hand clamped on my unshaven jaw, she kisses my neck softly. Her yielding lips are warm and leave crimson imprints behind, from the vivid red lipstick she's wearing. I want to resist her, I know this isn't right, but it just feels so damn good. Her hand lowers down to my pants, and she grabs my cock, massaging it through the black fabric.
Don’t ever take your hands off of me.
I can feel myself harden and I hope desperately that she doesn't notice. I try to close my legs to hide the solidity, but she’s sat right there on my lap, preventing me from moving anywhere. I'm immobile. I can't move, or do anything. She has me right where she wants me, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
Oh God. Now isn’t the right time! Fuck!
Now it's my turn to avoid her eyes. I can't meet her gaze. I daren't. If I do, I’ll blush again. The sensation of the heat burning in my cheeks still hasn’t' gone from the last time. I feel like such a fucking idiot. I will never live this down.
“Why won’t you look at me? Come on, look into my eyes.”
I can’t even bring myself to glance at her. She’s beautiful, stunning, but she’s an evil bitch. A sadist too, but so am I. I harm people for kicks, particularly women. I objectify them; I use them for my sexual fantasies. If I’m not satisfied, I toss them away like toys I’ve had enough of playing with. And yes, I enjoy it. People think I’m a cruel bastard, but the truth is, the hurt I cause people doesn’t concern me at all. Then I realise we’re like two peas in a pod. We’re exactly the same.
“If you don’t look at me, I’m going to have to collar you.” She purrs.
Do it, for fuck’s sake.
I couldn’t care less if she collared me or not. Right now, I feel nothing, I don’t retaliate. I keep my head bowed and my eyes down so we don’t make eye contact again. I need an escape; I need to get away from her. Yet again, she goes over to the king-size bed and chooses an object. My very own posture collar, I guess.
“I bought this for you because I knew that you’d need it. You’re a fidget, Mr. Leto.”
She puts the leather piece around my neck, making my movement even more restricted. I’m forced to keep my eyes forward and my neck straight. I’m now gagged and collared. I struggle more violently this time and she laughs as I get even angrier me lose my temper. It’s now compulsory that I look at her big, perky breasts, and that embarrasses me even more. She’s really going all the way.
“You’re so cute when you struggle.” She giggles.
Fucking hell. She patronises me and treats me like I’m five years old, or a retard and I don’t like this at all. I glare at her, so she knows that I’m not happy. I want revenge and I’m going to get my own back. I am not cute, I never will be, and if she ever calls me that again, I’ll kill her. I will skin her. If I could, I would hang her from the ceiling and asphyxiate her. That would make me the happiest man in the world.
Sign up to rate and review this story