Mr Miller

Mrs Miller

Mr Miller tore off my half buttoned shirt, using it to wipe off the blood from the cut inflicted by his son, my former friend, Nicolas. Too many thoughts threw through my mind - I still just couldn't believe that Nicolas lived. Should've fucked stabbed the shit out of his goddamn body when I had the chance, and now, here I am. I can't even say if I'm going to die, don't even know myself.

40% of me is drowning in fear. 60% is turned on. What's sex without a little bit of pain?

"There's a good girl. Don't say a word." Mr Miller crooned. He proceeded to throw me over his shoulder, treating me like the dirty open hole whore slag wench bitch I am. I don't care. I don't care. I DON'T FUCKING CARE OKAY? I want his cock, and I'll stop at nothing for the feeling of his thick and veiny member throbbing inside these lubricated Lithuanian lady parts. He carried me out into the garden, then down into the cellar underneath his house. All I wore was a red lacy bra, and a 3 inch long skirt with my matching red lace thong.
"Where are we going Mr Mil-"

A slap.

Across my face, I savoured the painfully arousing feeling - I was a bad bad girl and my Andreas is mad. All I could do was wonder what he'll do to me once we get to the end of this staircase.

"Shut your whore mouth."

If I were president, I'd make sure to remember to tell all women and girls to know their place in society. It truly angers me when I see things like "the feminist" movement, because it just reminds me that there are still selfish bitches who won't accept the order of the world - men are biologically superior. Not only that, but physically and mentally. Throughout the length of history it has always been men significantly out performing women in various fields and categories. We exist for simply men's pleasure - behind every man is a woman. Maybe I might not be the smartest, but knowing this information is probably one of the best things I could've ever had.

Finally, we reached the bottom. He turned the lights on, and my first thought was to ask
"Are you a fifty shades fan?"

There were women blindfolded, chained to the wall. They were definitely alive, but visibly traumatised. The room seemed to be near identical to Christian Grey's red room - yet somehow eerier. I don't know where he could've got the money for this, nor do I know what these women are doing here up on the wall.

But anyways beggars can't be choosers.

Once those words left my lips, Mr Miller ruthlessly threw me into the ground and I hit my head against the side of the bed in the middle of the room. I saw Nicolas, who joined us in the room with a tripod, camera and other tools which I couldn't see clearly. This time, I'd pushed Andreas way too far past his boundaries, and I can't speculate what'll happen further, simply need to wonder in horny fear about what'll happen next.

"What the fuck don't you understand?! I told you to shut your fucking whore mouth you nasty bitch. I don't know what I'll need to do to get it through your head. Both my son and I could easily get rid of you, for attempted murder alone, not even including all the other things you've done." As he spoke, he reached over at one of the wall displays and grapped a whip. He didn't think twice once he raised it up at me.

"Yes, fucking whip me sir." I moaned seductively. However, it seems that this broke something in him.

"What?! You want this?! Do you fucking want this you crazy bitch?!?!" He yelled uncontrollably. He screamed, roared, stomped and made the most animalistic screeching as he threw a tantrum. He knocked things off the walls, and then looked at me on the floor with my lustful eyes. He was even better than I expected.
"I'm going to fucking kill you."

Nicholas stepped forward, revealing the tools he was holding, including the knife they had cut me with earlier.

"Do you think this is just a game? A story? You think you're some sort of protagonist in a book, and people will be reading from YOUR perspective? You can't continue to rationalise your psychopathy or sluttiness. I gave you signs, warnings and ignored your advanced for your own good, yet you continued to wreak havoc into the lives of my son, students, neighbours and myself. You made the mistake of walking into MY lane, so from now in this is MY story. Ugne-Ieva Jasikevičuite, This marks the end."