Categories > Celebrities > 30 Seconds to Mars > Caught In A Bad Romance
The next morning, I hear her chatting to someone on the phone. Talking about me, no doubt. I don’t appreciate that, because I can hear nearly every word she’s saying. When she finishes the phone call she strolls back into the bedroom, watching me, analysing every move I make. Her eyes are full of lust and desire, she wants me and I know it.
“Your brother is worried sick, you know. Twenty-five missed calls. You should see the text messages; some of them are almost... psychotic.” She says this whilst wagging her finger at me, trying to make me feel like this is my fault.
Shit, she has my phone. She must have taken it out of my pocket when I was asleep. How could I not have noticed? I’m never far away from the battered, kaput BlackBerry. The thing is beyond broken; from all the times I have dropped it or thrown it. How does she know the password to unlock my phone? What has she been saying to Shannon?
“Your mother also called earlier this morning. She’s frantic. I set the record straight for her, though.”
My first thought was ‘what did you tell them?’ but I have more worrying things on my mind, like getting out of here, sane and alive. My eyes prickle and burn, then well up with tears as I think of my brother, I miss him. Is he searching for me? What about my mom, is she okay? She can’t do this, not to my mom.
“I’ve demanded a ransom of $50,000 by next week, from your mother.”
My eyes widen to the size of tennis balls, I scream, but it’s suppressed by the gag. Who is going to deliver the ransom, in order for my release? She can’t do this to my poor mom, who lives a quiet life in Bossier City, where Shannon and I were both born. My mother didn’t dream of the Los Angeles lifestyle like I did, but she supported me with my dream to become an actor. She wanted a simple life in the south, with all of her friends and the people we grew up with. My mom doesn’t have that much, Shannon could help but I’m doubtful.
“You don’t like the sound of that, do you?”
Damn it, she can’t do this!
“I told them that you’re safe. And that you’re not hurt... speaking of which, you’re due for a spanking, you deserve it after everything you’ve done.”
I can’t take this anymore.
I’m not used to being someone’s submissive, because I love to be in control. I’m always the dominant one in a relationship and I don’t take anyone’s shit, especially a woman’s. There are red marks, bruises and cuts all over my skin, from where she’s been ‘punishing’ me. I can tell that she felt threatened by me, and that’s probably why she bought me here in the first place. I must have upset her.
“Riding crop, Mr. Leto?”
She grabs my sweat drenched hair and yanks my head back, looks into my eyes, then strokes my cheek slowly with the black, braided riding crop. The leather teases my skin and I whimper through my gag, as if pleading her not to hit my face. People will get suspicious if I return home with a shiner or a big red blemish on my face. I feel leather belting me across my shoulders, and it feels good. Too good, almost. It doesn’t hurt as much as I expect it to. So she does it again, and I shudder, it’s a pleasurable kind of pain. I want her to do it again. My wishes are granted when I feel the blow to my cheek, it hurts but it’s worth it. Little does she know that I like it.
“Your brother is worried sick, you know. Twenty-five missed calls. You should see the text messages; some of them are almost... psychotic.” She says this whilst wagging her finger at me, trying to make me feel like this is my fault.
Shit, she has my phone. She must have taken it out of my pocket when I was asleep. How could I not have noticed? I’m never far away from the battered, kaput BlackBerry. The thing is beyond broken; from all the times I have dropped it or thrown it. How does she know the password to unlock my phone? What has she been saying to Shannon?
“Your mother also called earlier this morning. She’s frantic. I set the record straight for her, though.”
My first thought was ‘what did you tell them?’ but I have more worrying things on my mind, like getting out of here, sane and alive. My eyes prickle and burn, then well up with tears as I think of my brother, I miss him. Is he searching for me? What about my mom, is she okay? She can’t do this, not to my mom.
“I’ve demanded a ransom of $50,000 by next week, from your mother.”
My eyes widen to the size of tennis balls, I scream, but it’s suppressed by the gag. Who is going to deliver the ransom, in order for my release? She can’t do this to my poor mom, who lives a quiet life in Bossier City, where Shannon and I were both born. My mother didn’t dream of the Los Angeles lifestyle like I did, but she supported me with my dream to become an actor. She wanted a simple life in the south, with all of her friends and the people we grew up with. My mom doesn’t have that much, Shannon could help but I’m doubtful.
“You don’t like the sound of that, do you?”
Damn it, she can’t do this!
“I told them that you’re safe. And that you’re not hurt... speaking of which, you’re due for a spanking, you deserve it after everything you’ve done.”
I can’t take this anymore.
I’m not used to being someone’s submissive, because I love to be in control. I’m always the dominant one in a relationship and I don’t take anyone’s shit, especially a woman’s. There are red marks, bruises and cuts all over my skin, from where she’s been ‘punishing’ me. I can tell that she felt threatened by me, and that’s probably why she bought me here in the first place. I must have upset her.
“Riding crop, Mr. Leto?”
She grabs my sweat drenched hair and yanks my head back, looks into my eyes, then strokes my cheek slowly with the black, braided riding crop. The leather teases my skin and I whimper through my gag, as if pleading her not to hit my face. People will get suspicious if I return home with a shiner or a big red blemish on my face. I feel leather belting me across my shoulders, and it feels good. Too good, almost. It doesn’t hurt as much as I expect it to. So she does it again, and I shudder, it’s a pleasurable kind of pain. I want her to do it again. My wishes are granted when I feel the blow to my cheek, it hurts but it’s worth it. Little does she know that I like it.
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