Plaything: A Dark Romance Read online

  Plaything

  A Dark Romance

  Tia Montero

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 Tia Montero

  Written by Tia Montero

  ~~ All characters in this book are 18 or over. ~~

  ~~All sexual activities depicted are completely consensual ~~

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 1

  Night had already fallen by the time my shift was over - I sat at my desk, watching my co-workers filter out of the building. Some of them would say goodbye as they passed by my desk, whereas others were too wrapped up in their own little worlds to acknowledge my presence. I paid it no mind, seeing as I could care less about these people's opinions.

  The job was easy - as the company's receptionist, it was my duty to answer phone calls and welcome guests. There was the occasional bit of paperwork, but nothing I couldn't handle. I had a lot of free time - hours upon hours spent playing solitaire at my desk. I was in the middle of a game right now, as a matter of fact, hence why I was in no hurry to get home.

  I sighed as I sorted the tiny virtual cards on the screen - it wasn't as though I was dissatisfied with life, it was just a little tedious to go through the same routine every day. However, I was safe, healthy, and I had more than enough cash to provide for myself (albeit not enough to take any nice vacations). That was more than a lot of people in their early twenties could say for themselves.

  The cards flitted onto the four marked piles and then proceeded to dance around the screen. I'd won this game perhaps thousands of times, but it was still somewhat satisfying to me. I supposed I'd get bored of it any day now, though. I wonder what game I'd take up next - maybe sudoku.

  I became aware of an imposing figure standing in front of me - my boss. I looked up anxiously, shutting down my computer and struggling to shove all my things into my purse. My boss was a reasonable man, but I knew that he didn't take kindly to my lax attitude about work. The way he cleared his throat sent shivers down my spine, and I braced myself for yet another anti-solitaire lecture.

  Gritting my teeth, I prepared for the worst.

  "Isabella, I'm going to lock up the office now." He stated, voice as stern as ever despite the surprising lack of venom in his words. "You should really head home. This part of town is dangerous after dark, especially for young women."

  I was taken aback by his concern, though I certainly welcomed it. It was nice to not be antagonized for once - I couldn't help but grin as I stood up, bowing my head a little in submission. I found it ridiculously hard to make eye contact with my boss, especially when he was standing. The height difference was, frankly, a little unnerving.

  "Don't worry, I'll stay safe-" I managed, nodding a little and dashing out of the office awkwardly. Usually, I prided myself on being able to get what I wanted out of men, but recently, I had come to realize that my tactics were only truly useful in the bedroom. Flirting and sweet-talking had no place in the office, unless I planned to fuck my way to the top.

  And I was not that kind of girl.

  Admittedly, I'd had a few fantasies about my boss before. But I didn't think much of it, seeing as I fantasize about nearly every attractive man I know. In the past, I'd chalked it up to simple horniness, but after a few lackluster boyfriends, it became clear that my fantasies said something about me on a deeper level.

  I fantasized about being dominated, about being hurt. I knew all too well that masochism wasn't uncommon or strange, but I still felt conflicted about that part of myself. When I'd asked my previous boyfriend to be more rough during sex, he wasn't able to oblige. He'd pump in and out vigorously for a few moments, but I could tell that his heart wasn't in it.

  I supposed that was why my boss (and the other authority figures in my life) showed up in my fantasies so often - the people with real control over me would obviously be able to dominate me in the bedroom. It was a novel thought, and therefore, I had been on the prowl for an older man for quite some time. I was through with wishy-washy hipster boys who couldn't satisfy me.

  As I walked home, I stayed on that erotic train of thought, thoroughly enjoying the ride. The mere thought of being held down and fucked hard was enough to send a warm wave of pleasure down my spine. My underwear grew uncomfortable and sticky - I'd probably have to take care of that when I got home.

  The drunken frat boys on the streets were focused on other things, and I thanked God for that. Usually, there would be at least one cat call, and at least three inappropriate remarks. It was cringeworthy, the way these boys addressed me. It was my fault for choosing a sketchy university neighborhood to reside in, I supposed.

  My knees buckled as my fantasies grew more and more vivid by the second. By the time I'd reached my apartment complex, I was dripping. My thighs trembled and my mind raced with thoughts of hair-pulling and name-calling. My hands shook as I struggled with the key, the damp wetness of the city feeling increasingly suffocating.

  I heaved a sigh as I entered the building, steps unsteady and path uncertain. I ambled over to the elevator, feeling releived when no one else was inside. I pressed the button that corresponded to my floor number, and took the opportunity to lean back against the wall, collecting my thoughts. It was shameful how horny I'd gotten in such a short amount of time.

  I did little breathing exercises, eyes shutting. Behind my eyelids was a bevy of erotic imagery, but I forced it out of my mind and embraced the nothingness. It was hard to stave off the tantalizing ideas, but I managed it somehow. The doors creaked open, and I stumbled out into the ratty, carpeted hallway. It was as though I was in a trance - my vision was unfocused, my mind was barely there. All I could think about was the insistent neediness of my arousal, and how good it would feel to do away with it.

  My door was as uncooperative as ever, and it took me a few irritated tries before I managed to unlock it and make my way inside. My apartment was certainly spacious enough for one person, and I kept it immaculate. Taking off my shoes, I padded across the sparkling hardwood floor, teasing myself by running a hand up my thigh.

  God, how I wished that I wasn't alone right now. Though I had the money to call someone, I knew male prostitution wasn't very popular, and I was too ashamed to even consider going through with something like that. I wanted my sex life to remain organic. If I had been a little less desperate, I might've considered going to a club tonight, but...

  The situation was pressing.

  I bit my lip as I dragged my fingertips up the sensitive skin along my inner thigh, slightly grazing the hem of my panties. I wanted someone to rip those panties right off, call me a whore, and force me down. I wanted it so badly that I could see it happening in my mind's eye - a vivid scenario that I couldn't look away from.

  I made it to the edge of my bed and flopped down onto my back, one hand already slipping beneath the soft lace of my panties and teasing my clit. I pinched it, back arching at the self-inflicted pain. My other hand ran down my thigh, grazing the sensitive flesh with my sharp fingernails. I couldn't simulate a situation anything like the one I was picturing, but for now, imagination was more than enough.

  What would my ideal man look like? When I closed my eyes, the first figure that came to mind was masculine and foreboding - a strong jawline and a chiseled torso. I didn't know where my mind had stumbled upon this sex god, perhaps I'd seen him once in a magazine, but oh lord he was all I'd ever want
ed.

  I imagined his lips ghosting over my neck, telling me over and over how much of a bad girl I was. Damn, that was hot. Degrading, sure, but hot nonetheless. In fact, maybe 'bad girl' wasn't enough - I'd want him to say more, want him to make me his own. My imaginary boyfriend ran his hands down my sides, murmuring obscenities.

  My finger circled my clit softly, and I knew that these panties were officially ruined. I'd soaked them through, and they clung to me uncomfortably. I wondered what my imaginary boyfriend might say if he were to see just how wet I'd gotten. He'd probably call me a worthless whore, flip me onto my hands and knees, and spank me without mercy.

  Regretting that I couldn't exactly spank myself, I got on all fours to live out my fantasy at least a little bit. My hand dove back down to finger myself, and even the tiny bit of penetration I could achieve with my finger was enough to make me moan. I could only imagine how satisfying it'd be to have a thick cock shoved inside me right now -

  My mind wandered, my body grew sweaty. My fingers writhed and curled inside me, and I was making absolutely filthy noises unlike any sounds I'd ever made before. I retracted my hand briefly, sitting up on my knees - I was totally overwhelmed. As fun as this was, it was lonely as all hell. The heat of my room was sweltering, and I was rapidly losing focus.

  I ripped off my blouse, enjoying the way my tits looked as they sprung free. I kept my bra on, seeing as the cleavage it gave me was a nice little visual addition to the fantasy that I'd conjured up. I wondered if my tits were big enough to get a guy off with - my imaginary boyfriend would probably be into that.

  I felt myself up, groping at my breasts, imagining a dick sliding between them, the sex god I'd conjured up moaning and panting above me. My hand shot back down, body craving satisfaction. I used one hand to finger myself, and my free hand circled my clit, rubbing at it with a sense of urgency I'd never felt before.

  I was about to have one of the best orgasms of my life, body seizing up, brain preparing to release that amazing flow of feel-good chemicals, but-

  I was interrupted quite rudely by some sounds from next door.

  My neighbors had always been seedy types, and on occasion I'd overhear a fight or two, but never before had I actually heard a gunshot. I froze, arousal rapidly being replaced with fear. My body was frustrated at the interruption, but I was too scared to get myself off. I pulled my hand out of my panties, listening closely for activity.

  Angry voices for a moment, but they quickly grew silent. My ears perked up, hoping for any sort of confirmation that a murder hadn't just happened next door. There were footsteps, hushed voices, and the thin walls were something of a blessing right now, because I managed to catch a few words.

  "Out back."

  "Idiot, what if people see?"

  "The duffel bag-"

  It was cryptic, but of course my paranoid mind put the pieces together in the most morbid fashion possible. These men who lived next door to me had killed someone, and now they were planning to dump the body 'out back', concealing it from view in a duffel bag. It was all kinds of fucked up, and my blood ran cold when I thought about being interviewed by the cops, provided this story got out.

  I had to prove myself wrong - there was no way my neighbors had just committed murder. It was impossible.

  Sure, the situation outside could be described as 'dangerous', but there was nothing wrong with a young lady going for a nighttime stroll. I was positive that nothing would happen to me, and perhaps I could put my fears to rest. Sitting up, I grabbed my discarded blouse and put it back on, rebuttoning it with shaky hands.

  My panties felt completely disgusting and uncomfortable, the warm wetness of before a distant memory as the fabric grew cold. I shuffled around awkwardly as I zipped my skirt back up - I didn't exactly have time to change clothes, lest I miss out on whatever action is taking place. I heard the footsteps of my neighbors, and I heard the telltale 'click' of the door as they locked up.

  I had to hurry.

  I flew out of bed, finding my footing with a surprising absence of grace. My shoes lay discarded in the front hall, and I slipped them back on. My officewear was a bit too formal for an evening walk, but it'd have to do for now. I grabbed my key and exited the comfort and safety of my apartment, hoping to God that my paranoid thoughts wouldn't be proven right.

  My heels shook as my knees buckled in fear, and they dug into the ratty carpet as though they wanted to root me to the spot. Every instinct in my body was telling me to flee, to run back into my apartment and not involve myself in this mess, but I stupidly trudged forward, reassuring the panicked voices in my head that I was simply going for a stroll.

  I clambered into the elevator, wincing at the cold feel of my wet panties. I hope my face didn't show any telltale signs of arousal - I knew from experience that I tended to go completely red during sexual situations, and that'd make for a pretty awkward look as I paced up and down the city streets.

  The elevator doors slid open before I had the time to properly collect myself, and I had to force myself out onto the linoleum. My heart was pounding and my stomach had clenched up - I was almost positive that I'd heard a gunshot, but there was still some hope - I could've simply imagined that! I had been pretty far gone, after all - too horny to think straight.

  I exited the apartment complex, shivering as the night air hit me. My eyes scanned the gloomy streets for figures that resembled my neighbors. Sure, they didn't look like inherently bad people, but they were the sort of guys who liked to wear trenchcoats on a daily basis. They gave off a pretty big air of suspicion, though they'd never been anything but nice to me.

  Plodding down the streets, telltale duffel bag in tow, I saw them. There was no one out here besides us three, and I'm sure I looked rather conspicuous, staring them down like that. However, God must've been smiling upon me today, because they didn't seem to notice. I stepped out onto the sidewalk, grimacing at the loud 'clack' my heel made as it collided with cement.

  The men didn't turn around, or rather, they turned to their left and entered a small alleyway. By this point, we were a block away from the apartment complex, but definitely close enough that I figured they wouldn't dare dump the body here. This put my mind at ease a bit - whatever was in the duffel bag must not be that incriminating.

  I heaved a sigh, turning into the alleyway against my better judgement. I quickly stepped backwards, back onto the sidewalk, and settled for peering around the corner to get a better look at whatever sketchy business was going down.

  There was a bit of muffled arguing, and the taller man opened up the dumpster. The shorter one heaved the duffel bag up and inside, and they slammed the dumpster shut without a second thought. Their faces, though I couldn't make them out perfectly, looked pale. A short spurt of nervous laughter filled the alleyway, and they seemed to visibly relax.

  "That's done with, then."

  "Yeah - Boss'll be glad to be rid of that prick. Never caused nothin' but trouble."

  They turned and made their way back towards the sidewalk. Shit - I had to bail. My legs shook, my heart thudded, and I locked eyes with the taller one. My brain had gone into full panic mode, and I was horrified to realize that I couldn't move - I was rooted to the spot.

  "Hey, Ivan - that lady. She saw."

  I was fucked.

  Chapter 2

  As soon as the men began to approach me, my flight instinct kicked in all at once, and I was sprinting down the sidewalk as fast as my high heels could take me. My legs weren't strong enough to carry me far, though - especially considering that my heel had gotten stuck in a crack on the sidewalk. I toppled over in a spectacular fashion, the wind knocked out of me.

  Sprawled out on the grimy sidewalk, I attempted to get my bearings. I winced in pain as I tried to prop myself up, and to my horror, I heard heavy footsteps behind me. My heart was working overtime, trying its best to keep up with the drama and adrenaline of my situation. I squirmed and struggled, attempting to dislodge my heel from its trap. />
  However, I wasn't fast enough. Before I had the chance to protest, I was being lifted up from behind, a pair of strong arms hooking themselves under my own, hauling me back to a standing position. My heel slipped off, and I briefly considered kicking off the other and running like hell. Unfortunately, I was unable to act fast enough, and the man holding me dragged me back into the alleyway.

  Overwhelmed, I went limp for a moment, allowing myself to be manhandled. The other man pinned me up against the wall of the alley, and I blanched. This was how things were gonna end for me, huh? My body was unresponsive to my brain's commands, therefore I couldn't put any of my self-defense training into practice. Besides, these men could overpower me in a heartbeat - they were both well over six feet tall, and they had the brawn to match.

  I regretted everything - I should've minded my own business. I shouldn't have let my curiosity get the better of me. I mentally apologized to my parents, whom I'd be letting down immensely. I mumbled a quick little prayer to God, though I knew getting into heaven would be unlikely for me, especially considering the sinful fantasies I'd indulged in not thirty minutes ago.

  "Alright, bitch. Listen up." The man holding me firmly against the wall spat. The gravelly tone of his voice sent a thorough shiver down my spine, and I was most definitely listening. I did not want this to be my last day on Earth. I would do anything these men asked of me, whether it would ruin me forever or not. I was desperate for a second chance.

  "You followed us here, didn't you? Thought we were up to somethin' sketchy? Wanted to call the cops on us?" He grinned, as though he were telling a particularly funny joke. Of course someone who had the audacity to murder someone in his own apartment would be a little on the unhinged side. His partner stood on my left, watching the conversation intently.

  "No, I- you've got it all wrong! I was just passing by-" I stammered, my voice uncertain and lacking in confidence. That lack of composure would likely be my downfall, seeing as my assailant's grin had spread even wider now. I was utterly shaken, and it showed. My legs would've given out had the man not been pressing me so firmly against the wall.