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Thorne Princess(28)

Author:L.J. Shen

Well, I wasn’t one of those people.

I opened my small clutch, taking out the taser Keller got me for Christmas, and stepped deeper into the alleyway.

Immediately, two darkened silhouettes came into view. The woman was pressed against a red-bricked wall. Her cocktail dress was pushed up, her panties shoved down haphazardly to her knees. Her face glistened with tears. The man behind her pounded into her mercilessly. His fingers were shoved deep into her mouth, making her gag. His form was big, strong, wired with muscles.

I clutched the taser in my hand, getting ready to aim it at him as I gingerly stepped closer.

“Don’t try to fight it, sweetheart. You’ll just make it worse for yourself,” he taunted viciously into her ear.

My legs froze.

Ransom.

It was Ransom.

I’d recognize that deep, callous voice anywhere.

“What the fuck!” I was shaking so bad I almost dropped the damn taser I aimed at him.

Both Ransom and his victim! turned their heads toward me. The bastard had the decency to remove his hand from her mouth and wipe it over her dress. The woman looked more shocked than relieved to see me, but I couldn’t exactly blame her, considering the circumstances.

“I cannot believe you!” I felt tears, hot and fat, streaming freely down my cheeks. My mouth was coated with sour bile. “I cannot believe what you just did.”

“What’re you doing here?” His voice was inscrutable. Void of emotions. Well, of course it was. He was a goddamn psychopath. “Where the hell is Max?”

That’s the conversation he wanted to be having right now? Desperate gaslighting if I ever saw it.

“I’m calling the police.” I fished for my phone out of my clutch, before remembering the bastard confiscated it.

“Please don’t!” the woman next to him cried out. She stepped into the light, under a lamppost, tugging her dress down. She appeared to be in her early forties. “Don’t ruin this.”

Cocking my head to the side, I waited for an explanation for her bizarre request. “Honey…what?”

“Because we’re role-playing.” Ransom stepped beside her protectively. She looked sideways at him, giving him an I-cannot-believe-this-is-happening look. I wanted to bury myself in the ground.

A role play?

Like… rape fantasy?

I’d been exposed to a lot of different kinds of porn online, but not this. What kind of people did that?

It was sick. No, worse than sick, it was degrading and harmful.

You shouldn’t be shaming people for their sexual preferences, a voice inside me countered.

“Just…don’t say anything,” the woman warned, her tone implying it wasn’t the first time she’d fired orders at people. “Please. Please, I have two kids at home and an ex-husband who respects me.”

“She’s not gonna say a word,” Ransom soothed. “I give you my word.”

“Thank you.” She turned to Ransom, putting a hand over his chest. “I think I’ll head home.”

He nodded curtly. “My apologies for the disruption. I’ll take care of this.”

“You sure?” She grimaced.

“Positive.”

He sounded sincere and polite and…almost warm. The first time I’d seen him exhibiting this kind of behavior.

She gave him a brief kiss on the cheek and wiggled past me, rushing off into the night.

I was so confused I thought my head was about to blow up.

Standing rooted to the ground, I stared at him. He tucked his shirt in, and looked presentable enough, but I still couldn’t wrap my head around anything.

He’d been…

Or at least, he’d been pretending to…

Was there even a difference, if she was in distress? Yes, for fuck’s sake, there was a difference when she had chosen that situation, made it happen because she wanted it. Universes apart difference. And she’d chosen Ransom to be the one to give her such a shocking experience?

And…oh, no. Why did it feel like my thighs were sticking together? I couldn’t be turned on by this. I couldn’t. No. After all these years, this is what turns me on? I mean, really?

“I’m…uh…” I glanced around me.

“In trouble,” he finished for me, rearranging his dress shirt. “Where’s Max?”

“Home.” I cleared my throat.

“Very professional.”

“It’s not his fault. I’m sneaky. You left a note on your dresser with this address. I wanted to know what you were up to.”

“Why?” he shot out.

“Because you’re hiding a lot of secrets, and we share a roof.”

Surprisingly, he wasn’t outraged by my answer.

“So…this is what you do at night?” I gulped. My heart was still racing. Did I want it to be his first time trying this or his fiftieth? I couldn’t catch my breath.

“I’m a nocturnal creature.”

“You’re a monster, is what you are.” The allegation came out as a desperate bark. My whole body was caked in cold sweat and goosebumps.

His laugh, raw and rough, rang out through the starless night. A thin wire fence separated us from the industrial, funky part of Los Angeles people used as an outdoor sex spot. “Labeling something you’re afraid of as monstrous is the easy part. Understanding how they got that way is what takes true courage.”

“W—w—what you did there was—”

“Having sex with another consenting adult who shares the same fantasies and kinks as me. Nothing wrong with that. She was into it, so was I.”

More than anything else, I hated that I was into it. When I first thought I saw what he was doing to her…when I imagined him doing it to me…I didn’t hate it. I was scared, but I didn’t hate it. And that was awful to admit, even to myself.

“What got you into…uh…these fantasies?” I didn’t think I’d actually get a straight answer, but it was worth trying.

Ransom began making his way out of the alley, certain I would follow him. I did. He shoved his hands into his front pockets.

“Initially, just the sensation of it all. You don’t have to suffer trauma or abuse to enjoy kink, as long as you’re owning your and your consenting partner’s way.”

“And still?” I asked, knowing there was more.

He shrugged. “Childhood trauma, mainly. The idea of using violence freely, unabashedly. There’s safeness in this scenario. It requires trust and a level of protection. In a way, acting out a date-gone-horribly wrong is much safer than engaging in a real, random, Tinder hookup. It’s about the safety of the expectation. Here, we have rules. We have dos and don’ts. We have limits we do not cross. I find it much more respectful than screwing a random person without knowing what they’re into. What their boundaries are, their background.”

Without meaning to, he was kind of selling the idea for me. The prospect of telling someone in advance what I wanted and didn’t want, what I would and wouldn’t do… what they could and couldn’t do… I liked it. I liked it a lot. It didn’t seem so crazy when he explained it to me.

“Were you hurting her?” I gulped.

We were strolling toward the Nissan. It went without saying that he was my ride home. We would pick up the Prius tomorrow.

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