Chapter 2: Mr. Nobody - Pack of Mine

My knuckles fucking sting, but I’m pretty used to using them. I live for the pain afterwards – the burn down to my bones, the blisters forming on top and ripping each time I use my hands, and the blood – I love it.

It’s euphoric to hit someone in the face that deserves it… Maybe even sometimes when they don’t. I just enjoy hurting people, I guess. I love the flush of adrenaline through my veins, the huffs and puffs of my victim flooding my ears and their pupils dilating with fear.

Call me a sadist, call me a sick fuck, sure. Just let me whip my cock out before you get me going.

I think everyone has done something in their life that made them feel that way – a rebel, a misfit, a dishonor to their family. That feeling is like a drug to me, I chase that high everywhere that I go.

And if you haven’t tried it yet, what are you waiting for?

The world has fucked up shit going on all the time – just choose something to be pissed about. It’s easy once you start looking for it.

I stumble into a dark alleyway and grin. My appetite for chaos hasn’t been satiated yet.

What’s better than starting a fight? Someone else throwing the first punch.

I glance around the barely lit street, but I don’t see much going on. I guess it’s a slow night on the corner of Crackhead Street and Deadbeat Avenue. Usually this part of town is full of young rebels or older homeless people looking to pick a fight with the closest target they can find.

That’s also usually me.

Nevertheless, walking around in public at night provides a different kind of peace to me. Most of the city’s souls are asleep and if they’re awake, they’re probably drunk or high. My kind of people, am I right?

I walk and meander my way through the littered street and the flickering lights. In the distance is a great view of the lit-up skyline. Some buildings shoot up so high that I swear the penthouse owner could reach out and touch a cloud, others are wide and have various logos on them for big banks or companies.

When I was a kid, I used to love staring up at skyscrapers and guessing what each window had going on behind it – a stressed-out business owner who can’t sleep? A couple that just got married and are having their first fight? Or maybe a teenage girl who’s hoping to move out of her rich parent’s apartment soon and find her way?

But they’re just regular people to me, who probably have too much money on their hands. They wouldn’t notice if some of it was gone. Easy targets.

I stretch my arms up behind my head, yawn and tuck my hands back into my pockets. I’ve got a long day of being a disappointment to society tomorrow.

As I start to head in the direction of my car, thoughts of the cute bartender from the shitty dive bar come to mind.

What a fucking bitch, man. From my perspective, this patron’s being a dick to her, right? So I step in, put this motherfucker in his place and then what? I get bitched at for it?

She was cute though, I’ll give her that. And she had nice tits. And her black hair would look good wrapped around my fist.

No, no. Shut up, horny brain. I just need to get off.

This girl should be fawning all over me, “Oh, Skyler, you’re so handsome and strong and sexy when you punch guys for me.”

And to be honest, most girls do.

They see the muscles, the testosterone, the devil in my eyes and beg me to fuck them after. But this one? Must be having a bad night or something, beats me.

Look, as long as I’m alive, the world around me will burn. In one way or another, trouble and chaos always follow me. And trust me, I used to have an angel sitting on my shoulders too, but the devil jumped over and killed her before she could have her way with me at all.

As I’m digging around in my pockets for my keys, a body bumps into me. Thinking I’m about to get robbed, I quickly turn to grab them and shove them up against the side of my car.

“Mmphffh, sorry,” a feminine voice says.

What the fuck?

I look down at busty cleavage spilling out of a low-cut top. My hands are wrapped tightly around a tiny pair of shoulders and long black hair hanging down, now painfully pinned against my front door.

Is she the bartender from earlier?

Hmm, maybe I was wrong about her.

“Well, well, coming back for more, I see.” They always do.

I tap her cheeks to try to wake her up, but it doesn’t render much. Her eyes are rolling back and her limp body flops around in my hands.

I shake her shoulders and try to straighten her out.

“Hello? Anyone home?”

She bounces up as quickly as a shitfaced girl can and attempts to push me off of her. Cute. She groans and starts beating at my chest.

I don’t move an inch. There’s no effort behind her strikes, she’s basically throwing peanuts at a gorilla.

“Get the fffummck offa me, creep.” She’s trying so hard.

“You’re gonna get hurt, you know? Bad guys come out at night.”

I smirk, bend down to look her in the eyes and release my hands from her shoulders. My lips lean in closer towards her drooping head, inches away from touching her ear. She looks so soft. Her long black hair hangs into her eyes and on her pink cheeks, like little kitten whiskers. She looks absolutely edible.

“Do you like getting hurt, pretty kitty?” My tongue gives her a wet lick and I nibble her lobe with my teeth.

I know, I know. I should stop playing with my food.

She burps and her head lolls back – completely passed out now. Her entire body weight, which isn't much to start with, is resting in my arms.

Damn, this little kitten should’ve prayed she landed in better hands tonight. I’m a man who can’t be trusted with his morals.

I lean in and her scent is intoxicating, to say the least. I’m getting a little high on it. She smells like… well, tequila for starters, but underneath that is a scent of warm amber and frankincense, a combination of woody but a little sweet.

The more I inhale, the harder my cock gets. My slacks are getting tighter and tighter as my manhood is begging to pop out. I groan frustratingly under my breath and tuck it into my waistband to be more comfortable.

What am I supposed to do with this bitch?

I drag her body into the passenger seat and pull the seatbelt across her until it clicks. Her entire body slouches into the car door, the left side of her neck wide open as her head rests on the window. I get another whiff of her perfume and my dick twitches in my pants.

Okay, look, I’m an asshole, don’t get me wrong. I’ve done my fair share of sins in this world, but I’m not that kind of asshole. What did you think I was gonna do, rape the girl while she’s unconscious?

Nah, at least not for the first time.

When I first fuck a girl, I prefer them to be awake. I like them tied up to my bed completely at my mercy. I like to hear them scream my name while I stretch them open wider than they’ve ever been before, bringing them to orgasm again and again.

First impressions are everything nowadays, but not a lot of girls come back to me for seconds.

I wonder why.

The car engine roars as it starts and I step on the gas, the tires squealing behind us and the smell of burnt rubber filling the air.

We drive and drive until we reach the edge of town. I turn onto a street surrounded by half-dead and tall pine trees. They reach over the road like they’re trying to grab the cars right off the asphalt.

It’s haunting in a way that I enjoy, but for everyone else that I’ve brought this way, it sends chills down their spine.

Maybe the busty bartender in my passenger seat would like it too, it would be a nice change of pace for me. I need a girl who likes my chaos, my violence, my flaws.

That’s all I’m made of – flaws.

Women say they want a bad boy, a rebel, an asshole. What they actually want is to be disrespected and treated like an object for a night. They want someone to play out their sick, secret fantasies. And after they finish for the fifth or sixth time, they run home to their vanilla boyfriends that pet their hair and tell them everything is going to be okay.

That’s not me.

I sigh and wrap my fingers tightly around the wheel. My teeth seethe at the sting, watching the skin on my knuckles pull tight and turn white, drops of blood dripping down the back of my hand.

I may be a sadist, but I’m also a masochist – pain always adds to my pleasure and my dick was already throbbing.

But there’s nothing I love more than control. I make all of my sexual escapades call me Daddy, because I make the rules and the punishment for breaking them.

My free hand grabs at my crotch that’s aching for a release. I need to stop thinking about fucking the bartender and focus on driving.

We continue down the long winding road, trees whizzing by both sides of the car and the city skyline receding further and further behind us.

* * *

When we arrive at my house, I pull her unconscious body out of the passenger seat and throw her over my shoulder. She seems to wake up briefly and lightly groans something unintelligible into my ear.

As I bend down into my car to grab my pack of cigarettes, I get a huge whiff of something sour that makes me want to puke.

Piss?

Oh no.

The leather seat has a puddle of urine and her backside is soaked. This kitten used my car as a litter box.

“Skyler? Who the fuck is that?” I hear a loud sniffing sound from behind me. “And why does it fucking reek out here?”

Great. My older brother is awake. He approaches me as he carries a half-full crystal glass of whiskey in his right hand and a frown on his face.

Meet Valentine Sterling, named after the worst holiday on Earth. He’s old enough to be my dad, a big fan of top-shelf liquor, and is as stoic as a monk. This was technically his house first, but I’ve lived with him for the last ten years or so.

He wrinkles his nose the closer he gets to me and his eyes squint with disgust. “Is that piss?”

I sigh.

“Wouldn’t be the first time. I’m gonna send our eager-to-please brother to clean my car tonight and have it done before I drive it again tomorrow morning.”

I lug the piss-covered bartender hanging off my shoulder inside with a one-track mind to the shower.

“What are you gonna do with her?” He pokes his head around to try to get a good look at my catch, her long dark hair hanging in front of her face. I notice his stare lingers on her tits falling out of her tiny top.

“Why, you want a turn?” I grin at him.

He scoffs at my comment, waves his hand at me and walks off. I haven’t seen him with a girl on his own in a while, but he usually likes to play with my catches before they run home.

Valentine is always up my ass with questions about something. It’s always, “Skyler, who’s the girl that’s screaming from your room? What do you mean you don’t know her name? Skyler, stop eating my groceries out of the fridge. Skyler, can you blah blah blah…” I mock his stupid dad voice in my head.

I thought I forgot what it’s like to have a helicopter parent.

I carry her through the front door and the long hallway leading to my wing of the house, cautiously making sure urine doesn’t drip onto the wooden floor.

When we finally reach the bathroom connected to my bedroom, I start the hot shower and strip her shirt and pants off. I throw the dirty clothes into the other corner of the room, as far from my nose as possible.

She fucking reeks. Did she even clean off the beer that guy spilled on her from earlier? Jesus.

The steam fills the room and I carry her naked body into the tiled shower. I’m too lazy to take my clothes off as well and my cock betrays me yet again, painfully straining against my now soaked grey slacks.

The water drips down her perfect curves – she’s a fucking wet dream. Her long hair sticks to her breasts and tiny waist like a bold outline of her frontside. Her cheeks are still flushed, and the mascara that she was wearing earlier now streaks down them.

I douse her in my soap – men’s soap is probably not a great scent for a girl, but that’s all I’ve got in here – rubbing it all over her skin and especially her legs before washing it off with the shower head.

This is all too much effort for a girl I just want to stick my cock in. I think about that for a second and I swear a light bulb pops up above my head.

Actually, that’s a good fucking point.

I don’t have to stick my cock in her to get off tonight.

Her wet body slouches against the shower wall as I quickly rip my soaked clothes off and throw them in the pile with hers. God, even unconscious she still looks like a fucking pornstar.

The hot water pounds against my back and I feel pressure on my gums starting to ache, my desire is taking over now. I spit in my right hand and stare at her, the water flowing down her curves like rivers all the way down to the shower floor.

I wish it was my tongue licking up and down her instead.

Groans leave my mouth at the first touch of my hand, the man downstairs is getting everything he asked for tonight. I push my left hand into the shower wall above her head and lean over her perfect face.

What I’d do to be ruining her holes right now instead of fucking my right hand.

I close my eyes and my mind wanders to the deepest, darkest places I want to take her.

I think about her leaning back in my bed, hands tied to my headboard and moaning, begging me for more. I think of her screaming and calling me Daddy, covered in bite marks and scratches, her juices soaking through my sheets.

I want my brothers to watch and wait for their turn with her, ruining her one after the other. I imagine multiple creampies dripping out of her perfect pussy, all of us breeding her and taking a gamble on who the father will be.

She’d be a perfect fucking slut for us.

My hand pumps faster and faster, my fantasy continuing to play in my head. I push off the wall and squat down, using my left hand to move her hair out of the way so I can get a better look at the mascara running down her face.

She’s a perfect sight right now. A perfect ruined Kitten, exactly as I like them. I just wish I was the reason for her swollen lips and smudged makeup.

My skin crawls, a pressure builds in my lower spine and I can feel a sweet release coming. I stand back up and lean over her again.

Her eyes, I wish they were looking up at me with tears in them right now. Her tits, I wish they were covered in bruises and my love bites. Her pussy, I wish it was swollen with my cum dripping out of it.

I stroke faster and faster until I explode all over her chest, gripping the tile on the wall above her head. Her body looks incredible covered in me.

I can’t wait to have her begging for it again tomorrow.

I turn the water off and hop out of the tiled shower floor, pulling a large black towel from the rack to dry my body. Her still unconscious body waits for me, water and semen dripping down her curves. I double-check she’s still breathing as her chest slowly rises and falls and her heartbeat fills my ears.

There’s no chance in hell she remembers this in the morning.

After I’ve toweled off, I pull her limp body out through the glass door and dry her off too. She rests on the tile and I walk to my dresser, grabbing an old T-shirt and sliding it over her body. If she wakes up naked, she’s definitely going to think I raped her.

I carry her over my shoulder again and tuck her into my sheets, rolling her on her side in case she vomits up the tequila I smell in her breath.

Her face rests on my pillow and her wet dark hair cascades behind her like a waterfall coming out of a black hole.

She’s actually really pretty.

She has a sculpted face like she was painted by God, long eyelashes that flutter on her pink cheeks and her skin… It’s unbelievably soft. I can’t stop touching it.

I watch her sleep peacefully in my bed for a few minutes, drool seeping out of her mouth and dripping onto the pillowcase.

Damn, I think this is the first time a girl has ever slept in my bed. Well, when they’re in it, they’re usually not sleeping. Plus, they always bounce the second I’m done with them, if they escape with their life.

Just kidding. Or am I?

I bend down to her ear and hold my lips just a few millimeters away from it.

“We’ll have some fun with you tomorrow, won’t we?” I place a soft kiss on her cheek and sweep my teeth over her exposed neck.

“Dream of me, Kitten.”