The School's Lost Cause

DNA on forks

"Dinner is ready, little bird!" He sweetly called.

To anyone outside, they would see a man happily cooking and a woman fiddling with her thumbs as she stared at the food getting served in front of her. They would think, what a cute couple!

... Bullshit! There was no one outside as I checked the windows. There was snowy mountains and fields for miles upon miles.

The aroma of fresh meat and barbeque sauce filled my sense of smell as my stomach erupted with vibration. The piled plate was placed in the middle of the dining table as I followed the addicting smell. Mama's coming!

Following it in a trance, my mouth watered. Not so long now, my child. I sounded cannibalistic then. Who cares, food is food! Just as I was about to pull the chair, a hand was placed on my shoulder to stop me.

"Allow me, little bird."

Stood still, I watched with a perplexed look on my face as he gracefully pulled the chair out and placed his right hand in mine as I sat on the chair with my legs closed tightly shut. Take no chances. His nice demeanour was like walking on a tightrope above skyscrapers. Stubbornly, I moved my chair in.

Lips lightly touched my right temple as I grabbed my knife and fork and began to tuck in. Before I could bring it to my lips, Dexter reached and ate from the fork. I froze as I realised he was still behind me, watching me intently as he chewed the crispy wedges. That's my food, bitch!

"That's pretty good, thanks for letting me try it!" He smirked as he began licking the fork.

Cringing in disgust, I snatched my fork away from his reach and began to wipe it on his shirt that I was wearing. Hands grasped my shoulders each side as he gripped harshly. He then grabbed the now dry fork and licked it again.

"Eat before I lick all of your food. We share everything now." He demanded.

Removing his hands from my shoulders, he sat next to me and placed a hand on my thigh, gently massaging it, causing me to tense up. Relax, Roxy. Imagine you are at your house and boxing, imaging it to be Dexter.

Stabbing a wedge, I hesitantly put it to my lips. Opening my mouth slowly, I put the wedge in my mouth, trying not to come in to contact with the contaminated fork.

"Lick it, then hand it back to me."

Horrified, I violently shook my head no as I pushed the plate away. His hands inched closer to my tight entrance as he lifted the shirt up. He would- of course he would he has you captured not the other way round.

He etched the plate closer to me as he squeezed harder on my inner thigh. Staring at the fork with utter disgust, I quickly but lightly licked it. Feeling his grip harden, I licked it a lot rougher and harder. His grip loosened as he took the fork out of my shaking hand and kissed my now blatantly obvious red cheeks a light kiss. I turned away as his kisses started to inch towards the corner of my mouth.

A rough, calloused hand forcefully grabbed my chin and pulled me to look directly into his demented eyes. He inched my closer until I was only a breath away. His nose tickled my forehead as he began to play with my hair.

"Never turn away from me. I will kiss and touch what is mine whenever I want, and you will enjoy it as you will love me. Understand, little bird?" He whispered harshly.

He repeatedly placed feathery kisses on my forehead until I eased at his touch, wanting to be free from this situation. Play. Along. He eventually moved away, placed a hand back on my thigh and ate another wedge. He then licked it and passed it back to me.

This pattern carried on for fifteen minutes until all the food was cleared off the plate. The fork stared at me with our spit intertwined. Dexter got up and grabbed the dishes. He then lent in and whispered in my ear.

"Not long before we share other liquids..."

Somebody obviously was horny. Sighing with frustration, I stood up and walked with him to the kitchen. Keep. Playing. Along.