Page 44 of The Knucklebone Brothers

I increased my pace, my hand moving so fast it was a blur. The friction was intense, the pain from my hand mixing with the pleasure of my orgasm building rapidly. I could feel my balls tightening, my cock throbbing, ready to explode. I grunted, a low, guttural sound, and shot my load all over the side of the trailer. It was a declaration. A mark. My territory.

Breathing heavy, I reached down into the bag at my feet. My fingers closed around the smooth plastic of the new clown mask. I pulled it on, the world narrowing to the two eyeholes. The air inside smelled of cheap vinyl. I looked back through the window.

She was still going. Her fingers were working faster now, her hips grinding against her own hand. She was close, so close. A slow, wicked grin spread across my face, hidden by the mask. Oh no. She wasn't going to come. Not until I said she could. It was time to go in.

I walked up the rickety porch steps, my boots creaking in the silence. I zipped my pants back up, the sound loud in the quiet air, and tightened my belt. I grabbed the handle of the door and pulled it open, the metal groaning on its hinges.

Time to play, I thought, a dark, hungry thought filling my head.

I stepped inside, the smell of her—sweet and musky wafting over me. She was sitting up in the bed, her eyes wide with surprise. She pulled the flannel shirt down quickly, covering herself, her cheeks flushing a deep, angry red.

"Did I startle you?" I asked, my voice low and smooth. "You just wakin’ up?"

She took a deep breath, her chest heaving. "I... I just woke up," she stammered. "The pills knocked me out hard. I had weird dreams."

I tilted my head, the mask stretching over my face, and let out a low, rumbling chuckle. "Watcha dreamin' about?" I asked, my eyes boring into hers.

She looked away, her eyes darting around the room. She looked guilty. "Nothing," she mumbled. "What the hell do you want?"

I stepped fully into the cage, the wooden floorboards creaking under my weight. She was fidgeting, pulling the flannel shirt tighter across her hips, trying to cover the evidence of what she’d been doing. I glanced down at the way the fabric bunched up between her thighs, then back up at her flushed face.

"No need to stop on my account," I drawled, my voice low and teasing. "I liked the show."

She froze, her eyes wide with panic. "I... I wasn't doing anything," she stammered, her voice cracking. "I was just... I was waking up."

I took a slow step closer, invading her personal space. "Quit lying," I said, my tone dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I saw the chains rattling. I heard the rustle. And it didn't drown out the moans in my head. I heard your mouth opening, heard the way you tried to hold it back, biting on your lip." I reached out, my thumb brushing against her lower lip, tracing the soft, full curve. She was frozen, her eyes dilated, completely under my spell.

I didn't wait for her answer. I lunged forward, my hand gripping her arm, and shoved her hard against the headboard. She let out a surprised gasp, her back colliding with the wood with a dull thud, but she didn't fight me. She was too stunned, too weak from the pills.

"Stay there," I commanded, my voice low and commanding. "Just like that."

I walked over to the small table and grabbed the stool, dragging it over to the foot of the mattress. I sat down.

I looked back at her, my eyes scanning her body. She was pulling the flannel tighter, trying to hide her body, but she was still exposed from the waist down. I reached out, my fingers curling around the bottom hem of the shirt. I pulled it up, high and fast, exposing her pussy.

She flinched, her body jerking, but she didn't push my hand away. She just sat there, frozen, staring at me with wide, terrified eyes.

I gripped the hem of the flannel shirt and yanked it up higher, baring her hips. I sat there on the stool, my knees touching the bed, and stared down at her. The sight of her bare pussy, glistening, made my mouth water. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

"Touch yourself," I ordered, my voice dripping with lust. "Don't hold back. Let me hear you come undone."

She laughed, a short, sharp sound. "Absolutely not," she said, her voice defiant. "I'm not doing this. I won't let you see me like that."

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my knife. The blade glinted in the dim light. I leaned forward slowly, my eyes locked on hers, and ran the cold steel along the inside of her thigh. I watched her shiver, her muscles tensing under the blade. I moved the knife up, tracing the line of her pussy, the tip poking gently into her. She let out a soft moan, her hips bucking slightly.

"That's it," I whispered, a grin spreading across my face. "You like that. I know you want this as much as I do. You're just too stubborn to admit it. I'm gonna make you want me, Aurora. I'm gonna make your body respond to me until you're begging for it."

I pressed the knife harder, the tip sliding inside her a little bit, and she gasped, her back arching off the headboard. I pulled the knife back out, leaving her aching and wanting.

I dropped the knife onto the floor with a clatter, the sound cutting through the heavy silence. I stood up, looming over her. I reached down, my hands gripping the backs of her knees, and pulled her legs down slightly, spreading them wide open. I leaned closely, my face inches from hers, and stared right into her eyes. I took in everything—her ragged breathing, the way her pupils were blown wide with fear, the frantic thumping of her heart against the skin on her neck. She was terrified, but she was alive, and that was what I needed.

I slowly lifted the mask up just enough to reveal my lips, and then I leaned forward and spat right down onto her pussy. She flinched, her body jerking, but I didn't miss the way her tongue darted out to lick her lips at the exact same moment. Interesting, I thought, a smirk playing on my lips. Was that involuntary, or did she just do that on purpose to mess with my head?

I let the mask fall back down, covering my face, and sat back down on the stool. I watched her, waiting for her reaction, waiting to see if she was going to play along or if I was going to have to force her.

I leaned in closer, my elbows resting on my knees, and stared at her hand like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. "Come on, pretty thing," I urged, my voice a low, gravelly whisper. "Show me. Don't hold back. I want to hear your moans."

Her hand was shaking like a leaf, but she started to move. Slowly. agonizingly slow. She dragged her finger down her stomach, her eyes darting away from mine, before she finally met her clit. She started to rub the spot, her fingers moving in slow, lazy circles. She was using my spit as lubrication, and the sound of her fingers smearing the wetness against her skin was loud in the quiet room.