16. Elijah

I just want to sink my teeth into her tits.

My little bat is getting harder and harder to resist.

Grabbing the metal chain from the corner of the table, she closes the attached cuff around both of my cousin’s ankles, ensuring her legs remain spread.

Stupid cunt.

Threatening me. As if I would believe the bullshit spewing from her lips. Did she forget what I just did to the Pawn assigned to her?

Looking down at my hands, they are still stained with his blood. I would permanently keep my hands this color if I could. Stain them daily by dipping them in a bucket with the harvested blood of those whose paths have crossed mine. To feel the warm, thick substance between my fingers. The same fingers that took them, to possess them.

Turning to the tool chest, I close my eyes. My cock hardens against my jeans as I picture curb stomping that pussy of a Pawn.

Fuck.

Months of suppression. And as a result, tonight I played a beautiful symphony made of blood and chaos.

The biggest weight lifted off my soul the moment I stuck the claws into his skin. Seeing Rain’s lips on another person, regardless of gender, sent me there and gave me permission to stay.

Lately, feelings have tried to enter me. To confuse me and to make me frustrated, unsure of how to respond. The only person I ever allow in is her. I may never understand it, but she is my one and only.

My fingers touch the cool metal, gripping the handles as I open the drawers, my eyes are taking in the inventory and what The Exodus have provided.

My dad would have made sure it was properly stocked.

With each drawer I inspect, it confirms he did. From knives to clamps to nails, it all perfectly decorates the interior of the chest.

Swiping a large knife, I walk over to Francesca. The baggy sweater she is wearing has ridden up her stomach, exposing the elastic waistband of her thick matching sweatpants.

Gripping the band, I hold it tight and begin cutting the fabric down the center seam. The knife is new or freshly sharpened, as it cuts through them effortlessly like butter. The thread pops off as I continue moving down, my hand gripping it to ensure the tension is maintained. Reaching her diseased cunt, I stop cutting just as the seam hits down her ass. Throwing the fabric open to each side and exposing her panties, a loud scream comes from next to me.

“No one here cares. And certainly no one outside that door. You know what tonight is. Screaming is pointless.” Her theatrics are annoying me.

Satisfied with how I have prepared her, I take a couple steps toward Rain, who is still at the end of the table, waiting for instructions like my good little bat.

“The cheese grater.”

Her eyes widen, pupils dilating, as she looks over my shoulder to the shelves. I know her mind is racing, I can feel it. But she knows better than to question me here.

Standing on her tiptoes, my beautiful, broken doll places her hands on my shoulders and kisses my cheek. The warm connection calms me. Relaxing me.

Then it’s gone.

Wiggling her hips as she makes her way to the grater. The drumming of the bass can be faintly heard, but her gulp while reaching for it occupies the space louder.

Now she gets it.

“Now crawl back to me with it in your mouth, little bat.”

I don’t turn back to see her reaction. It doesn’t matter. What does matter, is that she fucking does what she’s told by me.

Everything goes silent, even the annoying human lying before me. With my cock still straining against my pants, I hear her behind me. Shuffling around, trying to muffle her moans as the plug hits deeper with her new position.

Her palm slaps down against the tile with each movement. The distance isn’t far, but Rain crawling any distance for me is a beautiful sight I am finding harder to resist by the minute.

Her head nudges against my leg once she reaches me.

Clever girl, I was curious what she would do with the grater.

“Such a good little bat, aren’t you?” I coo. What I would do to shove my cock down her throat while watching her eyes water right now. Fuck.

Her eyes look up at me, eyelashes batting against her cheeks.

Mine.

Presenting my hand, her tiny one lifts up, grabbing ahold of it, using it to balance herself as she rises from the tiled floor with the circular grater still between her teeth.

As she rises, I notice something peeking through her top, a yellow lemon.

Having grabbed it without even being asked.

Rain’s eyes look at me for approval, for more praise.

She is still being punished. Therefore, she will get what I give her without complaint.

“Little bat, take the cheese grater dildo and shove it up her diseased cunt.” If she liked Francesca’s one set of lips so much, let’s see how much she likes the second set.

Carefully placing my fingers around the grater, I take it out of my mouth and examine the shiny object. It is long—at least six inches, maybe longer. The end is hollow, it’s almost as if they took a cone grater and molded it into a cock. As I rotate it, it goes from larger grates to small ones to the finest size. Even the tip is lined with sharp edges.

“She will scream. She will beg you to stop. You will want to, but you can’t,” E instructs me. He is right about all of it, except for one. “I won’t want to stop. She wants to hurt our family. She’s already dead to me.” My tone is stone. I mean every word. I am a Sinclair, I am a Disciple; this is my family too. Before stepping forward, E grips my hand and squeezes it, stopping me briefly.

“Francesca, I’ll give you one shot. Not because I want to, but because my dad said I had to. Marry a Pawn, tonight. Join The Exodus, keep your mouth shut and push out ugly children—or die.” E’s tone is screaming boredom, which is usually how it is when he is doing something he has zero interest in, like offering someone mercy.

“I hate you. I hate this fucking family. I want nothing to do with any of you!”

Loosening his grip, that’s all the permission I need to continue moving toward her covered pelvic area. E continues to taunt her, “I couldn’t give a fuck either way. Although, my dad was saying how your dad, good old Uncle Greg, was getting sick of your shit too. So I doubt he will cry at your funeral.”

Watching Francesca’s face, I can see her plotting her response before E is even done speaking. Before she is able to spit it out, I gently move her panties to the side, exposing her lips. Lining the grater up to her hole, in one swift movement, with my hand firmly gripping the base, I shove it in with all the muscle and power I have.

My eyes stay open the entire time. As the air hits them, I can feel them drying out, but I don’t care. I need to watch it all.

Francesca’s back arches at the violent intrusion. High-pitched screams of pain and terror echo in the small room.

The girth of the metal grater isn’t thin, it is easily two inches wide and penetrates her dry hole brutally without any lube. At first I am met with some resistance. Repositioning my hand so my palm is at the base, I push it in even harder. Gradually, it inches further inside of her.

Knowing how much E loves to watch, I don’t want to rush it too much. I also fight the urge to twist it as it enters her, knowing this is just one part of a bigger game, which E had already mapped out in his head the moment we walked in here.

The rattling of chains follows each time she tries to move her legs, fighting the inevitable.

Drops of blood stain her white panties. Nothing dramatic, yet .

My palm hits her swollen lips, not from arousal but from pure torture. The cheese grater dildo is fully inserted inside of her. I leave her panties pushed to the side, keeping her exposed.

My eyes blink, restoring moisture to them and breaking me from my own trance. Looking up, Francesca’s face is red and blotchy with tears streaming down her cheeks, leaving stains where her makeup once was. Racoon eyes have also formed. Bitch is a mess.