Flower in the Dark

I’m starting to feel restless again, feeling the need to use my hands. Unsure of what I might do if I don’t leave the house for even a little while, I take a long walk down through the barren front garden and towards the town. I keep my head down, and hood up to hide my features. I don’t feel like drawing attention to myself tonight.

I don't know how long I wander around for, but I find just what I am after. It's quick, brutal, bloody, and so damn fun. As I stand there over the chaos of my own making, I don't feel any better. The demons inside haven't fully settled, they still hunger for more.

15

Violet

I wake abruptly from vivid dreams about Him, shaking, sweaty and to my embarrassment, wet. Damn him.

“Damn you! Why are you doing this to me?” I shout, hoping the bastard hears me.

It's been two days since he came to me that night, every morning I wake up to see a day’s supply of food and water sitting on the table that holds the unlit candle.

I managed to break one of the planks barring the window to let in a little more light, cutting my hand in the process. The rest of the time, I leave the bathroom light on and the door open.

I’m so bored though. There is literally nothing to do in this room. If only I had paper and a pen, I'd be able to keep a proper tally of how long I've been here or, draw or amuse myself some other way. At the moment, I'm making do drawing in the copious amounts of dust in the corners of the room and on the walls. It hasn't really quenched the boredom though. The only flip side I've found so far is that while being here, I am no longer stressing about work, bills, and the other menial shit that usually fills up my days. Although, any of that would be a welcome distraction right now from the trapped feeling I am suffering from being in this room.

I want to get out, stretch my legs, explore the place, and maybe find a way to escape the dreary doldrums that being here causes. If I’m to be kept locked up in this room like a fucking prisoner, I want something to keep me entertained: a book, a puzzle, anything.

I realized that after the night visit, I haven’t been crying myself to sleep each night; I can’t figure out why that is though. I would assume because in my dreams, the man who spends time with me isn’t distant and uncaring, he’s comforting and talks to me, just like Z did when we spoke.

I’m either going crazy or have just resigned myself to this place and situation. Right now I even want to spend time in His presence. Even if only to scream and plead with him over and over again, just so that I can spend a little time not being alone and feeling so isolated. I start thinking about him again, I’ve been trying to fight it, but with nothing else to distract my mind, he is beginning to consume my waking thoughts too.

“I hate this! Ugghhh!” I groan in frustration, pulling at my knotted hair. “Ohhh, great," I grumble, “Now I have to try to pry fingers free from the tangles without yanking half my hair out.”

It takes some time to free my fingers, but I manage to not scalp myself in the process.

“I seriously need a brush, and proper clothes,” I muse thoughtfully, looking down at my barely covered body.

My jeans had started to get vile, so I washed them as best I could in the tub with the bar of soap. They’re currently hanging over the shower rail to dry, and are not getting very far with that in the cold house.

I’m sure He is getting a kick out of me wearing the lacy bra and panties he dropped in here the other night.

"Pervert," I mutter scowling at the locked door.

I wasn't about to walk around naked though, and the blanket only covers so much. I sigh softly and slowly fall back into my thoughts. Is it wrong that a small part of me hopes he comes in for another night visit?

16

Him

I stumble through the front door at God knows what time; angry, filthy, and wanting to see my Violet. Tonight’s wanders did not help. They say idle hands are the Devil’s plaything, but idle hands might have served me better tonight. I tear off my clothes in the entryway, dropping them to the floor in a heap. “I’ll deal with them tomorrow,” I growl before heading to the shower.

I lean my head against the cool tiles with my eyes closed, water cascades down my body, the heat relaxing my tense muscles, and clearing the fog in my brain.

As my breathing slows, and the anger starts to dissipate, thoughts of Violet, my flower, enter my mind. Remembering the last time I saw her on the monitors, her gorgeous body encased in the underwear I left her that night, I start to tense again.

This kind of tension I can deal with, I grab my hardening cock and jerk off to the mental picture of her in the lingerie I gave her, combined with memories of the muffled moans and cries from that night in her room. Several minutes later my cum hits the shower tiles in powerful spurts before swirling down the drain with the remnants of my night.

Feeling slightly more relaxed now, I go to check on Violet once I've dried off. I pull on some boxers but don't bother with anything else. It's too hot in this room, but then, it always has been. Sometimes the heat is suffocating, making me feel like I'm slowly burning to death, and I hate it. But this room is familiar and safe, so I don't change it, even though I could.

Memories start to flood my mind: screams and grunts, the sound of flesh on flesh. The goddamned heat strangling me as I hide unde

r the bed, away from the noise. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to hear this. So, so thirsty. Bang!

I throw myself down onto the bed, scrubbing a hand down my face and exhaling sharply, shoving the past aside. I return to the present and roll onto my side where I can see the screens and Violet from here. She’s sleeping again, but she keeps tossing and turning, the blanket is hanging loosely around her waist where it’s fallen from her shoulders. I do a double take realizing she is braless tonight, one of the sheer nighties doing nothing to conceal her. She doesn’t know about the cameras, or that I can see her perfect tits on clear display, although she does know I slip in at night to leave provisions for the next day. Hmm, I wonder if shy little Violet is trying to tease me.

Sighing heavily, I roll onto my back, starting to get pissed at the sounds of her restless sleep, the rustling and slight creaking of the mattress, and her little gasps and moans. She’s probably having a nightmare or something, I’m about to mute the sound when I hear something that makes me shoot bolt upright in the bed.