“Get out. Get out now,” the old man grunts, the bible he’d been carrying is on the floor beside him. “You’re devil children.” His eyes find mine and I laugh—it’s maniacal, and it makes him gasp. I tug my tank top over my head and smile.
“Look, he’s going to get a hard on looking at my tits,” I tell Daddy. The old man’s eyes are wide when Pike’s hands maul my nipples through the soft material of my bra. I can’t stop whimpering as he teases the hardened buds.
“I think you’re right, sweet Molls,” Pike chuckles from behind me. “I think he’ll watch us.” Hands trail between my legs, lifting the pink mini skirt I’m wearing to find my wet panties. Pike’s fingers toy with my clit, circling it as the old man watches. He can’t turn his filthy gaze away from us.
“I think he needs to learn, Daddy,” I whisper, my head dropping back onto Pike’s shoulder as he continues his ministrations.
“Get out!” The old man shouts, causing me to snap my gaze on him.
“Listen, Father,” Pike says, releasing me and lifting the gun toward the priest. “My baby girl wants to play and when she wants something, I make sure she gets it.” My Daddy aims the weapon at the knee of the wrinkled old fuck and pulls the trigger, allowing the loud shot to ring through the space.
He cries out in agony and I giggle as I pounce on him. My legs on either side of his waist. My hips roll wildly as I rub myself against him. He’s sick. He is. They told me I was broken, but even in his agony, the asshole can’t keep his dick down.
“Little Molly likes to play. Little Molly likes to maim. It’s her favorite game. She loves to hear you scream. It makes her happy, it makes her dream. Blood and guts pool on the floor. When she takes Gigi and stabs you even more.”
I take my sleek silver blade and slice it through his wrinkled flesh, smiling at how pretty the red color of his blood is as it drips from his pale skin. I happily press the tip over his lips and slice a bigger smile for the old Father who looks far too sad.
His screams and screeches make me tingle in the same special place that Pike licked and touched when he knew he shouldn’t’ve. And even now, when Pike puts his cock inside me, and he tells me things we’re going to do together, I know people would call us sinners. I don’t care though, Pike is the only one who understands me.
I take the knife and cut a large M in the Father’s forehead. His body shuddering below me as I make sure the letter looks perfectly formed on his pale flesh. Pike reaches for me, drenched in the blood of the evil man.
“Come on, Sweet Molly,” Daddy says. “We need to go.”
“But I wanted to play,” I pout once more. “Can we fuck, please, Daddy?”
“Baby girl, we need to get out of here before they come,” he warns, but I know Daddy, and I know how to make him do things.
Dropping to my knees in front of the man I love, I giggle. I dip my finger in the sticky red liquid of the old man as he screams, and I paint a pretty red cross on my forehead, reminding Pike of why we’re here.
“Jesus, Molly,” he grunts as I unzip his ripped jeans, pulling out his thick, pierced cock. The silver glint of the ring on the underside of his shaft makes my mouth water. I lap at him as the pastor starts praying. He can’t move away. He’s watching the way I take Pike into my mouth, sucking him deep into my throat. The sounds of the old man’s agonizing pleas and my choking makes for a euphoric symphony.
Pike grips my long blonde hair, fisting it as he fucks my face hard and fast. Spit drips from my chin as my Daddy looks down at me with a smile of satisfaction on his handsome face. Blue eyes pierce me in the dimly lit building.
“You’re my sweet girl, Molls,” he tells me, shoving his cock into my throat. His body jerks and the heat of his seed shoots into my mouth, filling me with every drop. He tugs himself from between my lips and turns to the old man. “That was good, hope you enjoyed the show asshole,” Pike lifts his gun and as the trigger sounds around us, the man falls onto his back. “He needed to end.”
“I love you, Daddy.” I lean up on my tiptoes, planting a kiss on his cheek. “It doesn’t matter what they say, Pike,” I tell him. “You’re always mine.”
The Train Wreck
Pike
We’ve been roaming the streets aimlessly for hours and nothing seems to be holding our interest until we come across the old train yard that sits at the end of Sybil Street. Molly’s always asked me to take her to this place and as we reach the chain-link fence with the NO TRESPASSING sign hanging on it, I give her a grin and arch an eyebrow.