Stitch It Up

AFTER the fun adrenaline rush left, also the pleasure from the beating, much like love, the pain set in.

Better that, than thinking of what she had done to Onetta.

Butt on the bed, bare feet on the floor, cunt, ribs, mound, face, lips, everything thumped is either swollen, slit, blue bruised, bleeding or dripping blood.

Arvan, just sick, seeing her face, his heart imploded, layers a butterfly stitch to her cut eyebrow.

Pressing her fingers to her breast, she winces, moans and moves her fingers to her ribs.

“Fuck.”

Sore, but not broken, maybe one, same for her shaved mound, groans, real, real hurt everywhere. It had been magnificent. God knows what she would have had to pay a professional for what she just got from Sue for free. The fact, an innocent Sue, like Onettta was left to pick up the after birth; well, those are ancillary things.

“Ouch.”

“Sit still, Betty.”

Doctor Arvan lovingly chastises her as he dabs Mercurochrome to her cut up lip.

“Lip, okay, don’t need no stitch.”

Lifting her hand, she touches her eyebrows stitch, cheekbone butterfly, swollen blackening left eye, her lips and, then smiles. Arvan thinks the smile is for him.

It’s not. It’s for herself.

“Ya gonna be jest fine, Betty.”

He stares at her like a worshiper of The Mona Lisa might after it has just been sliced to ribbons by some thug with a switch blade.

Touches on Arvans face, pushes a strand of greased hair from it, control him, set the hook a little deeper.

Do something. Okay I will.

“What would I do with out you Arvan?”

Arvan, deer in the head lights and all in love and such is irate with what Sue done to her. He feels her breath on his nose, making him dizzy.

“Betty, ya listen. Don’t knowed why Sue done what she done. But like I said, afore. Ya jest wait a coupla days. When me and Billy get back from Corpus Christie, things gonna be different here.”

Touches her face, tabac stained teeth, Mandal doesn’t mind. Switch back.

Poor Arvan. Poor fucked up Arvan.

“Lotta folks gonna get what they got commin’, specially Sue. Ya understand?”

Blue eyes, seeing his sincerity sewn on his face, eyes, no matter, same girl who just learned her best friend now lives in a dumpster.

Fuck it, let’s put Arvan there too, Maybe Sue, fuck it, stack I’m up, like cord wood. Last one sucking up oxygen gets out alive.

“Oh Arvan, your so...so wonderful. I feel....I feel...so.”

Sniffle, sniffle, her good eye droops as does her chin.

His greased finger, under her dainty quivering chin, he lifts it level.

“What Betty. What da ya feel?”

Gulp, sniffle, so scared, fucked up battle wounds on her face.

Why would anyone want to hurt such an innocent child?

Let get into Arvans head like a garbage disposal gobbling up his brain.

“I...I feel so safe, with you, Arvan. I’m not scared when you’re here. I...I...I think I need you...so much...I know I’m not much, bu...but I ain’t nothin’ much...”

Tear, or two, sniffle, sniffle, sniffle, boo hoo, boo hoo hoo.

“Betty, yer a lot...Ya ain’t nothin’...Beat up some...But yer still real pretty...I thin...I love ya.”

She swoons.

Southern Belle eyelashes lowered, back of the hand to her forehead, she feigns dizziness, groans in real time, not imaginary pain.

But that’s not the grift. Something new needs to be done.

“Betty, darlin’ ya okay?”

“I’m sorry, Arvan, It’s just.”

Where did I put those fucking white gloves?

Pentium 4, gobbling up data, numbers, equations, digits, Arvans fucking digits.

“I just think...Well, maybe a hot bath...Some rest...I don’t feel that good...Would you mind terribly if I...I...took a bath right now...was along day, be alone, fer a bit?”

FER? Nice touch.

Arvan slaps his forehead.

“A course.”

His eyes click, peek past her, at the wall. She sees it, already knows it’s part of the plan. It’s time to set the hook in so deep he’ll never get it out.

Watching his eyes jerking off at the wall behind her, she thinks.

So much for true love.

She knows exactly what he is looking at behind her on the wall.

“A course Betty. A hot tub, some rest, da ya still feel like ya did afore...ya knowed...California...ya...me?”

“Well...I guess...I need my car fixed...ya could show yer love that way, Arvaaaan.”

“Okay Betty.”

Eye ticks at the wall, back, more circle jerks of the eyes, back at his love queen.

“Promise ya, Betty, fast as I can, tagether, you, me, okay, Arvan will take care of ya, forever, ya take that bath now, okay?”

Tears, wiped away. She takes both of his hands, leans in, brushes lips on his cheek. She smells mouth tobacco, backs off, whispers. “We’ll see, Arvan, okay...I’m going to take my bath right this very minute, okay darlin’?”

Darlin?

With his eyes glued to her exposed tiny tummy, hip bones jutting against her hip huggers, she knows exactly what she will do next; it’s time to get jiggy.

Arvan stands, seems real interested in her gettin’ that bath, moves to the door, turns, say’s. “Don ferget about that bath...You and me...Right Betty”?

Broken smile, nods of love, grin returns, bulge in the Levi’s, grin, another smile, door closes, she flops on the bed, groans, pain coming from every angle. She moans, sighs and closes her eyes, her cunt feeling like it has a drill bit drilled into it.

Betty, like the Frankenstein monster reverts instantly to Mandal. Angel comes to mind. Darling sitting in the corner, afraid of Arvan, never even made a peep.

Plan set, she moves to her pup, bends, groans from pain, cradles her in her arms, moves to the door, sets her on the front porch, whispers. “You don’t want to see this, girl.”

“Yip, yip.”

Angel pools into a circle, off the door, lowers her snout, closes her eyes, curls into a ball and stays put.

Next door, a screen door creaks, a door lightly bangs, shuffle, shuffle, a chair moves. She smiles, moans, time for act two.

Whatever.

She’s embed the harpoon in his lying heart, Arvans heart, knowing he will never be able to get away after she drains the blood from his brain.

Crawls off the bed, sways, back and forth, sees sparks in her brain and crinkles her forehead.

That hurts.

She moves, that hurts, unsnaps hip huggers. That hurts, all in a good way.

Down they go, off her bare feet, “Ouch”.

Off goes the T-shirt, more “Ouches”, naked, white, she stands before the wall mirror almost looking like the young girl that fled a Private girls school in Montreal life time ago.

Face bloodied, eyes black and blue, swelling, purple blotches on her left breast, blue green on her skinny ribs, mound, blue welt too

Perfect.

Fingers tracing along her NEW scars, stitches holding everything together, she smiles.

“Ouch.”

Her eyes glimmer, she likes the new her, work in progress, as she hears a chair budge, next door door.

She reminds herself it’s time for the show to begin

Something, alluring, pouting, a face, a vessel of demurring passion, seductive, comes from deep space, completely engulfing her as the wall mirror reflects it. She closes her eyes, parted lips, breathing increasing, tiny tummy expanding, an actress swallowing herself up, becoming some one else, again.

Eyes open, different, flames, coal, ice, all of it; the transformation is in place.

Her legs part, tiny feet plant into the floor, she is so reed like, tummy ricocheting off her back bone, muscled legs leading up to her shaved cunt, drip, drip, drip, something draining down her thighs.

Fingers wet, move to her parted, bruised, purring lips, a B actress trying to move to an upgrade.

Her pink tongue is so seductive. She is a female Cobra, a taste of blood, saliva, a MOAN, a moved chair behind her from the other room. Her entire white body shudders from the taste of her own sex, an audible gasp from the other room.

Breathing, heavier, deeper, tummy undulating, lips part, she begins to drool, saliva slipping down her chin onto her bruised breasts.

Finger’s, plying along her cunt, inside, outside, head thrown back, moans, eyes open, she sits on the side of the bed legs spread wide, showing the voyeur in the other room her pink paradise.

She inches back, her butt on the bed, lays her head on the pillow, spreads her white thighs, cunt of roses, blue bruised, exposed to the wall mirror. Groans, hers, something is making rhythmic sounds from behind the wall next door.

Hand reaches back, below the pillow, next to the 44, she is prepared. Tummy swelling, hitting her spine, she with draws a foot long black latex dildo, thick, like her wrist, moans, arches her spine, places it between her lips, in her mouth. She groans as it disappears down her throat, a moan from behind the wall.

Fingers to her clit, she masturbates, for some time, hips bucking, face contorting and sweat beading on her skin, dildo slipping in and down her throat.

Latex out of her throat, her mouth, lower, lower, pressed to the wet opening of her cunt, clutched with both hands, she slams it deep inside.

Moans, weeps, cries, the wall behind her shaking, hips thrown to the ceiling, in, out, savage, deeper, moans, head whipping back and forth, muscles cording, body twisting. Her body convulses, she ORGASMS. Into it now, she does not stop, screams, she continues, amazing stuff.

INSIDE THE room next doors, Arvans, standing on a stool, Levi’s bunched down along his skinny white legs, whacking off, eyes like lug bolts, leering, barely able to believe what he is seeing.

Her legs are flayed, open, that black thing she keeps ramming in her cunt.

He didn’t knowed girls could do stuff like that. He’s stunned.

Whack, whack, whack, he slams his dick with his fist, watches as her body seems to twist in half, her hands drenched, wet, sweat spilling down her white, stretching skin.

Her face contorts, his eyes shock out, he sees the dildo sluice out of her cunt. Liquids spurt out of her, drenching her thin, long legs. He gasps, as she lowers it, raises her butt, whack, whack, whack, she drives the black thing into her ass, goes rigid, moans, every sinew in her body elongated, her moaning, driving him mad, insane.

Whack, whack, whack. He masturbates.

In and out, her ass, her grinding butt against her own slashes, almost there, peep show for Arvan,her entire body goes haywire, undulates, shakes, as she slashes the Dildo in, completely, arches her back and screams.

Arvan, eyes exploding, orgasms, ejaculates, losses his balance on the chair, falls backwards, crashes into a table and chairs, holding his dick for dear life in his hands, as the furniture splinters around him.

He stands, looks all around, ah shucks himself. He frantically throws up his jeans, buttons the brass buttons.

Frantic, way out of his league, turns, runs to the door, out, dashes towards the garages with one plan stacked into his overworked brain.

Get that Betty’s car fixed, so they can run away, cause he can’t wait to see more a that shit, which he thought was illegal in most States.

BACK AT Seduction Central, she’s grinning, hurting everywhere from her beat down, brain clear now and so aware. She is naked, sore, sex adrenaline wearing off, covered in sweat, cum, breathing rheumatic, perfect time for a cigarette and, then, shower time next.

Cigarette, between her lips, Zippo lights it, she inhales, exhales, even that hurts.

With Arvan solidly on board Team Mandal, she thinks of Billy. That will be easy, maybe, as she glances at Jason Cox’s manuscript on the bed besides her. She wants more of that.

So many things left o do. One thing at a time.

Scratch, scratch, on the door.

“Angel.” She whispers.

Struggling, bare feet on the floor, she groans for every thing hurts, a lot. Hands on the knees, up, a groan, to the door, she opens it. Angel scampers inside, vibrating, so glad to get in alive from the monsters outside.

Mandal, flops on the bed, winces, groans, Angel, a hop on her belly. “Ouch girl.” She moans as a pink tongues kisses her all over her wiped out face.

Ignoring her pain, liking it, she ruffles up her Gonzo puppy.

“Okay, okay girl. You stay here, I’m going to take a hot shower.”

“Yelp, yelp, yelp.”

She stands, Angel doing circles on the bed. She places her on the pillow, 44 under the cotton, smoothes her out, whispers. “Stay girl.”

Turning, she peers into the mirror at her naked body, shakes her head, whispers. “You are really something, aren’t you?”

Peering at Angel, she whispers. “What a ya think, girl. We’re going to make it?”

Panting, “Yelp, yelp, yelp.”

Mandal smiles.

“Okay, I guess that’s a yes.”

Turning to the shower, devoid of all shame, she moves to the tub, moans in physical pain. She lights up the hot water, proving that old adage to be true.

That yes indeed, Blonde’s, do have more fun.