A Story About A Boy Who Loved A Girl And The Girl Who Didn’t Love Him Back
Look at you there, sitting coy and wistful. You play and twirl with one hand your pretty curlicues as they drift in the open morning breeze that wafts in through your shabby, single room window. The other hand is having its nails nibbled on nervously by your trembling mouth. Why are you nervous? Is it the anticipation of my touch on your young thigh or the look of intention on my face? I intimidate you, I know. There is a lustful power between us and you fear being swallowed by the power of my appetite. Please don’t fret. I promise to be gentle and take you softly and slowly. All I ask is for you to submit to my love for you.
He is a beast and I am his unwilling consort. Must I act the supplicant toy and invite his lust into me? My youth is lost on this bed unfit for innocent dreaming. I stifle the cry and wails that seek to rise from my young, anguished soul. If I disobey and scream, my masters will flay me down to the bone and pump my veins with the dragon force that makes all that feed upon it acquiesce into turmoil. Best to open up to the beast and let him ravage me. Perhaps, it will be quick and painless.
There you go. Nice girl. You know the things I want you to do for me. Open up your soft love to me and I will relish in its enticing warmth. My love is swarming and it is all for you. You. The one who makes my loving sex rise to new heights. Only you could do this for me and I wish to reward you for your masterful seduction play. You truly are a baby doll of exquisite form and I will caress your precious and budding suppleness. It is all for me.
His hands are calloused. They are rough, scabrous claws tearing at my skin. He presses me down until my lungs are crushed and I am gasping for air. Sweat and drool drip like a torrent from his sickly, pulsating form above me. Every crash is a new agony stretching me further. I know he will feast on every inch of me before the night is done, but he will not have me completely. I will lock myself away deep within and throw away the key. And in the morning, I will plot my escape from this cruel world. Maybe it will be a razor run vertically down my skinny arms or I will petition my stomach to starve myself into oblivion or perhaps I can only hope that the dragon consumes me outright and leaves my mind an empty husk. At least then, I will not feel anymore.
Do you feel that my little darling? That is all of my love flooding into you. It is my sweetness that you will forever remember me by for I may not return the next day, but I will return eventually to have you share in my endless desire and love for you. You cry from ecstasy and I am glad that I could give you a moment of paradise. Now I am tired and must rest.
The beast has finished his ghastly feasting and I am gone with eyes blankly staring at the dingy, cracked ceiling above me. He pulls himself off of me and collapses in an obese heap next to me with a satisfied grin. I can smell his stink and its acrid fumes make my eyes tear up. But I will not cry. I will not weep and give him further satisfaction. I will turn my back to him and curl up into myself and try to remember a time when I had the future laid before me all bright and shiny. Perhaps if I close my eyes long enough that dream will come. Perhaps when I open my eyes again that dream will remain.
Thank you, my pretty little dove. I love you.
I hate you. Please take me away from all of this.
– Heartbroken Rabbit