Trauma Kink

GRAYSON

“Fuck, my little diamond, oh, how you are a saint.”

I grab Laura’s hair with both hands and drag her head back. She’s got my dick so fucking deep inside her pussy, I think I might actually rupture her cervix.

She wanted to play rough, and I’m giving her exactly what she wished for. A roasting-hot fuck session where she gets what she deserves.

Laura is my go-to fuck buddy who relieves all of my stress and helps me get off. I call her my cum collector, but she prefers the term “milk machine.”

I accepted that and was amused when she corrected me. Oh, how wrong I was to call her my cum collector.

Sitting on the table, she looks up at me with innocent eyes and I pull her face to mine. I sweep my lips lightly across hers, wrap my right hand around her neck, and feel her groan.

I brush my fingers through her messy black hair and dampness sticks to my fingertips. She loves to get a good seeing to, and I’m happy to give it to her.

“Are you…ready…to collect?” I ask her, my erratic breathing breaking up my sentence, and she nods.

Sweat rolls down her face from her forehead to her top lip, and I lick it off, forcing my tongue inside her pretty little mouth. She’s a dirty bitch, but that mouth of hers can make me happy real quick.

I feel her walls closing around me as I hammer myself deep inside her, back and forth, my hips following a rhythm. I don’t last much longer before I’m releasing inside her sweet, tight pussy, milking myself completely dry.

I wonder if this is how a cow feels when all of the milk is emptied from them? I don’t know, but I pull myself out of her and hold my cock in my hand.

“Cleanup time.” I stick my tongue out, grinning at her, and she instantly jumps off the table, gets down on her knees, and starts to lick me.

Closing my eyes as my legs shake, I place my hand on the top of her head and moan loudly.

“That’s a good girl.” I throw my head back, enjoying every moment that her mouth is around me, mopping up the mess that she created in her sexy baby-blue lingerie set.

The second that she walked through the door, I knew that she’d be the girl who I’d fuck tonight.

I saw the blue thong sticking out from the waistband of her skirt, and I felt myself harden inside my black slacks instantly.

Delicious, I thought to myself, eyeing her up all night. I got what I wanted. Laura isn’t a hard girl to please, so I got her because she was easy.

“Happy?” she asks me, and I nod, brushing her hair back.

“Very.” I wink down at her and she giggles.

I grab my shirt, button it up, and pull my boxers to sit around my hips. Securing my black pants around my waist, I tuck in my shirt and pick up my waistcoat, putting it on.

After shrugging my suit jacket over my shoulders, I check the time. I have to go and do a job.

Kissing Laura on the cheek, I tap the top of her head and leave. She will get herself off and clean up the room. Honestly, I couldn’t give two fucks what she does.

She’s a great fuck and I can use her as and when I please.

At the end of the day, she sees herself as being worth nothing, which makes me think the exact same. Now, if she actually raised her self-worth, then I would treat her like a woman and not a whore.

Walking out of the room, I cover my eyes. The bright orange and red lights are blinding me. Some of the submissives are dancing next to the bar and others are being taught discipline.

I make my way out of the club, and Tyrone is waiting for me with Mochi.

“How long does it actually take for you to get off?” Tyrone asks me and I shrug my shoulders.

“I last longer, what can I say?” I grin and Mochi smacks Tyrone’s shoulder.

“Don’t piss me off!” Tyrone warns and I laugh.

“Come on, we have shit to sort out.” Tyrone walks off and I follow closely behind him with Mochi, lighting up a cigarette.

You don’t need to know where I went or why I left the Societa Oscura in the first place. I walked away from my family for a good reason, and it was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

Being the second sibling in my family was hard for me to deal with, and I didn’t agree with the way that Kenzo was treating Rebecca. To be honest, it angered me more than it should have.

In my mind, I was the better brother for her, but don’t get yourself mixed up with the man I am now and the boy I was a couple of months back.

I was wonderful for her up until a few months ago. Now that I’ve taken the wrong path in my life, I doubt she’d want to cross paths with me again.

I hold my hands up high, pleading with you not to shoot me in the head. Consider me as I am.

Even though I’ve had a rough past, I’m stronger than Kenzo ever will be, and if you look at what’s actually happening behind the scenes, you’ll find that I’m the one who provides him with his weapons and ammunition from my warehouse.

He is unable to climb my heights even if he wants to try. Big hint: Chesterfield.

“What the fuck is that?” I look at the black paint on my truck. There’s a scratch on it. Wiping the paintwork with my hand, I feel my throat tighten. A powerful rage is brewing from deep within me.

“I said…what the fuck is that?” I snap this time.

I’m like a lion wanting to feast on my prey, but there’s a big difference… Tyrone is my best friend, brother, and soul mate. The two of us are inseparable, and that’s not overestimated either.

“Oi, you two, get to the main gates. You shouldn’t be walking around!” I shout at Mochi and Louie, pointing in the direction of the gates.

Both of them nod and apologize for ignoring the strict orders I gave them before they started their shifts. They will be seeing my fist when they finish later on tonight.

“A bag. Why do you keep asking?” Tyrone dusts off his hands, and I shake my head, jumping up inside the truck.

What bag is he referring to? I was asking him about the scratch on the truck, not a bag. Still, he has diverted my attention now. What’s inside this truck?

Throwing bags out of my way, I prod a black one that stands out to me.

There are more inside this truck with it. Three hundred, to be precise, but this one is grabbing my attention. All of the other bags are brown, so why is it that I have a black one in the back of my truck?

“Did this come from the warehouse?” I glance over my shoulder at Tyrone, who shrugs. He’s useless! Kicking it, I step back. Why did it move?

I’ve just seen it move with my own two eyes. I’m not hallucinating, even if I did have a joint last night. I was talking about the scratch, not the bag.

I’m now not bothered about the scratch. For now. I want to know what’s inside the bag.

“That is moving. Why?” I raise my right eyebrow in suspicion and cross my arms, stepping back.

“Fuck would I know?” Tyrone jumps up and grabs the bag, yanking it out of the truck across the floor. It falls on the bricks that I had laid last week.

A grunting noise is coming from inside. Tyrone and I look down at the bag for at least thirty seconds before we raise our heads and glare at each other.

“What else is in there other than weapons and ammunition?” I squint my eyes and growl.

“As I said…I don’t know.” Shaking my head, I shoot Tyrone a glance and crouch down. Pulling the zip across the top, I push it open. Tyrone holds his pistol above the bag, ready to shoot.

“What the fuck?” I stare down in horror. This shouldn’t have happened. Why do I have a girl inside one of my bags? That means I’m twelve guns down! There’s only three in there.

Where have the rest of them gone? Are they on the floor inside the warehouse? I have a shipment that needs to go out tomorrow, and it cannot leave this estate until I have all twelve heavy machine guns boxed up.

That means that I now have to go to the delivery department and get them. This is a fucking joke!

“What the fuck are you doing here inside my bag?” She’s lucky they aren’t loaded!

I stare down at a woman with auburn hair and pale skin. She looks up at me through terrified green eyes. Her body is shaking, and I know that she’s scared of me. Good, she should be.

She couldn’t get more pasty even if she wanted to. Freckles travel across both of her cheeks, and her hair shines under the lamps that I set up individually.

“Please don’t hurt me. Please, I mean no harm.” She holds her hands up in front of her before she wraps her arms around her knees and starts whining.

I don’t have the time or patience to deal with her right now. Sighing, I shake my head and point down at the bag.

“Sort this shit out. It should never have happened.” Turning around, I walk over to my black Ford Focus and unlock it with the key. I don’t care about what you have to say, I love this car.

There’s something about it that I can’t put my finger on. I think it may have something to do with the noise it makes. You can’t go wrong with a Ford Focus RS.

I drive to my home fifteen minutes away and make a coffee the second that I get in. Sitting down at my desk, I run my hands through my hair and close my eyes. I’m fucking shattered.

Rubbing my eyes, I hear my phone ringing. I answer it and switch to loudspeaker.

“Boss, she said that she’s running away from Caponde.” I don’t say a word. I sit at my desk, thinking. Did he just say Caponde?

“Caponde as in my cousin from Texas? Caponde Caponde?” My eyebrows knit together.

“Yes, Boss.” Jamie sounds irritated. She must be hard work. Now that brings back some memories.

“Why has she run away from my cousin and made her way to me? That’s a risky game to play.” I lean back in my chair, throwing my head back.

Yawning, I wait for him to answer me. He’s asking her.

“She says that she jumped in the closest bag that she could find inside the warehouse.”

Inside my warehouse? What was Caponde doing at my warehouse?

I don’t have much to worry about when it comes to Caponde, and I do trust him with my life. Still, I question why he was there. His girl will have to go back to him though. I won’t abuse his trust.

“How did my cousin meet this girl?”

“Her friend owed money to him and he took her.” Sitting up straight, I tap my pen on the desk.

“Why? I don’t get it! Why would he take her when it was her friend’s debt? It’s got nothing to do with her,” I ask him calmly.

“She entered the room during a deal, heard everything, now she’s on the run. Caponde wants to kill her.”

“For fuck’s sake!” I growl. She’s done something to piss him off, that’s obvious. Still, I don’t want to play any part in this.

“What do you want me to do with her?”

“Kill her!” I yell. I’m being dragged into this when I don’t want to be. This dispute is between Caponde, the girl, and her friend, and I’m not in the mood to be fighting with my family.

I need a drink. I walk over to the cabinet, pour myself a dark rum, and sit back down in my chair.

“She’s innocent!” Jamie shouts. I blink because I didn’t expect for him to snap at me.

“I don’t fucking know. Send her away!” I’m trying to fob him off at this point. Sighing, I have a sip of my drink, closing my eyes. I’m fed up with the bullshit. It never stops!

“She knows where we are.”

“Chesterfield, San Digiuez!” she shouts, and I groan. Does this bitch want to die tonight?

I’m more than sure that she does at this point. If you have a chance to be free, you never tell beautiful brawly men that you know the location where they’re interrogating you.

“Bring her to me.” Slamming my phone down on my desk, I stand up and flip my chair over.

What is it with women and my family?