Page 14 of Rudimentary Distortion

Billie answers by circling her finger vigorously over her clit. Fuck, she’s more of a freak than she was ten years ago. Back then, when I bit her clit, it would be too sore for her to touch, and I bit her far harder today. But now she’s so desperate for more that it has me coming in Lars’ mouth like a fucking twelve-year-old.

Lars pulls off me and looks up. A small amount of cum trickles from his mouth and stains the black balaclava mask.

I smile at him. “Twist her nipples so hard she’ll think they’ll rip right off while you spit it all into her mouth.”

Billie visibly shivers as Lars walks up to her. I can’t help wondering if she’s deprived herself of what she needs all these years. The way her body comes alive sure makes me think she has. Or maybe no one has been able to provide for her in the right way.

Lars grips her nipples, pinching and tugging so hard that her torso lifts from the sofa. She slides three fingers into her pussy as her other hand works her clit, letting me know how much my girl is enjoying herself.

“Hold it in your mouth, Billie. Remember what happens when you don’t,” I say.

Lars pulls back and groans as we stare at our girl. She desperately tries to hold the fluid in her mouth, but some trickles from the side and drips onto her tits.

My eyes meet Lars’. “Clean it up.”

He bends to her nipples, taking one into his mouth. Billie screams, and the gurgling amplifies.

Lars lifts his head and passes the cum to her. “Welcome home, Billie Goat.”

9

Lars

As much as I enjoy Cain dominating me, I enjoy getting one over on Billie. There’s a perverse joy in degrading her. The first time I found out she liked it was by accident. I was balls deep in her, and instead of telling her how she was the sun and the moon, I called her my good little slut. Billie didn’t freak out or get mad. No, her pussy gripped my cock so hard that I thought she’d take it right off.

“You like that, Billie? You like being called a slut?”

She silently nodded as she broke my flesh with her nails and dug her way down my back.

I gripped her chin hard. “How far do you want me to go?”

She panted, casting her eyes down for a moment before gazing directly into mine. There was no hesitation in her voice, no misunderstanding. “Much further.”

“Don’t forget your safe word.”

“Where did you learn how to talk like this?” she asked.

“I’ve never done this shit before.” I looked away from her, wanting to hide the humiliation deep within my heart. “I just heard it somewhere.”

“From your mother?”

I froze, not knowing what to do. Billie was a part of us, and we’d vowed never to keep secrets or lie. We promised our little found family would be free from the bullshit we lived with our biological one. “Yes, the first time. But then I used it with Cain. Just make sure you use your word, okay? It protects you in case I go too far. I don’t want to hurt you, not on purpose or by accident.”

“Hey,” Billie said, gripping my face and forcing me to look at her. “I trust you.

My fingers twist in Billie’s hair, and I pull her head back. “Remember your word, Billie?”

She nods.

I bend to kiss her, our tongues melding as we move the cum back and forth between us. A sick act meant to humiliate and also heal. I spent a lot of time wondering why I enjoyed what I did, but eventually concluded it didn’t matter. What others deem as acceptable has nothing to do with me. For so long, I lived my life concerned about the judgment of others, and all it did was bring me grief. Now I do what feels good, and I don’t give a rat’s ass what anyone thinks.

“Give it all to me,” I whisper as I lick her lips.

Billie kisses me with a passion filled with longing and hatred. A cocktail containing rage and love, hope and regret. No one has ever kissed me like this. This is the type of kiss that poets write about. A tornado ready to engulf you and the summer sun bathing you with warmth.

She pulls away, her eyes soft, and for a moment, I’m no longer lonely. My lips part, and I tip my head back, allowing her easy access to spit in my mouth. But Billie doesn’t stop there; she slaps me across the face and smiles.

Oh, the little girl wants to play. I grip her throat and slam her on the sofa. Billie’s eyes widen, and for a second, she seems scared. I’m not sure how I feel about the fear she reveals. A partof me finds it sexy—it sure as fuck makes my cock throb—but I don’t want her to think I’ll hurt her. It’s a game. A fucked-up game, but a game nonetheless.