Game Night

Special Thank You to BarefeetxPetrichor for help in editing this section and motivating me to continue to work even when things looked their darkest.

Just a warning: This is potentially the most graphic installment I have written for this series. It is important to remember that these characters are part of consenting relationships sharing deep parts of themselves with one another. This section includes a fantasy element of force (fantasy element between consenting individuals). This can be a trigger for certain people but I trust you will self-monitor if you dare to read further. I hope you enjoy this installment and remember to vote and comment.

Now, a message from me:

Dear readers,

It has been over a year since I last posted and I think you all deserve to know why. In February of last year I crushed my index finger in a work related accident, shattering the bone in my index finger. It took me a few months to recover during which time -- due to familial problems and financial issues -- my family and I moved to another state 1000 miles away from where we lived. I went back to school to pursue a bachelor's degree in Computer Science in the hopes of entering the software engineering profession. It has been a big job of re-establishing myself in a new community, finding supports for my family, and earning enough money to make sure we can cover our bills. I'm sorry for the wait and it is my hope and intention that the next installment of Game Night not take nearly as long to finish.

- E

Game Night Pt. 08

Chapter: Give Me What I Want

Owen made good use of his time alone and stripped the bed of the sheets and pillow cases. The fabric was wet and scented heavily with Rachel's sweat and cum. The aroma was pure perfume and Owen held the ball of linens to his nose and inhaled deeply. He inhaled again and felt a shudder go through his body. He carefully placed the bedding atop his hamper not really wanting to wash the fragrance away.

Walking to his closet he retrieved a navy-blue Damask set which boasted an impressive thread count. He'd never actually fact-checked the claim because, to him, sheets were sheets. This particular set had cost him more than he'd wanted to spend, but he liked the design and honestly money hadn't been an issue. When the bed was dressed he turned and found that he had an audience of one.

A single lamp was lit beside the bed and the small light cast her curves and edges in dancing shadows. Copper cascades of hair draped over her shoulders and spilt onto the swells of her breasts. Her blue eyes sparkled like little pools of Caribbean water kissed in early morning light and her full lips were softly parted, her breath marked in quick inhales and exhales. His eyes followed the curve of her jaw to the slope of her neck traveling down, powerless to resist the pull of her features. Pink tipped nipples stood firmly outstretched from her torso before the curve of her breasts swept back toward her body drawing his eyes ever lower.

The muscles of her abs flexed and rolled as he looked at her following the peaks and valleys of her stomach and hips to the bare triangle of flesh above her slit. Her legs were together, thighs touching preventing him from an unobstructed view but he could make out the juncture of her vulva and the dark channel running between her velvet lips.

Owen took a breath.

Then he took another.

Still, his eyes traveled lower a blaze of memories filling his mind as he devoured her legs with greedy eyes. At the top of one thigh a spot of discoloration from where she'd fallen off her bike and had been sliced open by a piece of glass left on the road. To the side of her knee the white line of a scar from a misjudged backflip, on her calf two dimples where she'd been bitten by the neighbor's dog. Her bare feet were slender and she stood with one foot atop the other, the chipped paint on her toes catching the light as she clenched and released them. Each imperfection was a memory of a life he'd already shared with her, a life where he had been witness to her success and failure in equal measure. The view of her from where he stood a complex equation with one simple solution, she was... perfect.

Raising his eyes to meet hers he found her watching him closely.

"Sarah..." you're beautiful. He'd wanted to say but the rest of the words died in his throat as her eyelids closed and she shivered softly. The soft sigh she released could barely be heard over the pounding rush of his blood but the tiny exhale slammed into the center of him sending his nerves firing as an electric current flowed over his skin. "Sarah." He repeated and her nails scratched against the frame of the door before she opened her eyes again.

The captivating color of her eyes seemed more intense as she focused on him. The short hairs on the back of his neck tingled before standing fully as she extended one delicate foot. Her eyes remained on his and though he felt self-conscious he could not stop himself from looking down as she spread and clenched her toes.

He flicked his eyes to her face, his cheeks burning. He felt dirty. Perverted. Unworthy of ..., well, anything. But as her eyes connected with his, she smiled. A slow, sweet smile. The tips of her white teeth vibrant against her pink lips. And her simple gesture reassured him that she knew him, knew his desires, and was more than okay with who, and how, he was. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and purposefully looked down, urging his gaze back to her feet.

Owen's cock jumped as he realized she wanted him to look at her toes. Sarah was playing with him, using her knowledge of him to make him burn hotter for her. Owen groaned as his cock strained for the strawberry blonde. The pain was undeniable and real as his still-sensitive dick moved from soft to hard in record time.

His mouth felt dry as she moved toward him taking her time to drag her feet playfully over the floor before shifting her weight. She moved with easy grace while Owen remained firmly planted by the bed.

Sarah twirled her finger in her hair -- the strands catching the light and burning like fiery opal as they moved -- and had one foot resting atop the other seemingly untouchable and self-conscious simultaneously. She looked at him through the tangle of her hair and her smile grew before her eyes shifted to the bed behind him. "I love that design."

It was the first words she had spoken to him since coming to the room. Her voice was soft -- a loving whisper shattering the silence which had gripped them. Now, Owen shivered, his fingers clenching and scratching at the meat of his thighs as the mere sound of her voice wracked him from within. He knees gave a jolt as he almost fell to the floor. How was it possible for this small woman standing before him to command such power with so few words. His body ached for her and his muscles caved with love and adoration.

She owns me, commands me, Owen thought to himself. Not that she cared about owning him. In her eyes, he knew, they would always be equals.

She took a tentative step toward him and his chest tightened with affection so deep he could no longer stand still. His flesh craved to be against her. He wanted, no, needed to feel her warmth seeping into his skin. His feet were moving before he had any conscious thought of action.

Owen walked to her, sweeping her into his arms without hesitation, kissing her mouth as she melted into his hold. He carried her to the bed and made sure that her body was the first to rest on the surface. He felt the exquisite drag of her skin against his still-sensitive cock and moaned into her mouth. She was divine torture and he never wanted it to end.

***

Sarah felt the swell of his cock against her thighs as he lay beside her but she wanted something more than just a quick ride. She wiggled until her stomach was flush with his and she buried her nose against his neck. His cock kicked against her lower belly but he made no move or sound to push the issue. She sighed as the heavy weight of his arm fell over her body blanketing her in his warmth. His strong hands slid over the expanse of her back and stirred a memory within her. As his fingers flexed against her skin she broke the silence.

"Do you remember the first time you saw me naked?" Sarah felt Owen's body tense beside her and she mentally cursed. They'd never actually talked about it, had they? She kept her eyes cast low, breathing in the scent of his skin, praying that she hadn't just ruined the moment.

After a few moments Owen replied shakily. "Yeah." He swallowed loudly and tried again. "Yeah," his voice broke but he didn't try for a third attempt. He looked at her trying to see her eyes even though her face was still against his neck, "the bathroo-" He stopped speaking as Sarah focused her eyes on his. His mouth hung open as she looked at him and though she didn't know it, the blue of her eyes had never seemed so infinitely deep to the young man holding her.

"Yeah." She nodded. As she put her nose back to his skin she knew there were no need for words. She could almost feel the pull of time sucking him back to that moment. His muscles relaxing slightly, his breathing becoming more even in spite of the charged topic.

Surrounded by the warmth of him, the scent, the immense comfort of being held so close by someone she loved so much, Sarah allowed herself to revisit the memory. Sarah breathed him in as her mind took her back.

***

At age 13 she felt the first twisting, stabbing stings leaving her body weak and withdrawing upon itself. Sarah had some knowledge about changes she would go through as she grew but her family didn't believe in sex education and had never made the time to really talk to her about the details of maturation.

She had spent the night with Katerina - a developing tradition - though Rachel had been unable to make it due to an illness in the family. Jessica, likewise, was tied up with family obligations leaving Sarah, for once, alone with Katerina. They took the hosting role in turns rotating between one another's houses on the weekends when they were allowed. When all were gathered together they usually fell asleep giggling at the ridiculous pile of limbs and hair they made as they all climbed into Katerina's queen size bed. The bed had felt luxuriously accommodating as Sarah had climbed in with only Katerina.

They spent the night talking about their plans and the boys they liked. Katerina taught her how to play Rummy. There was even a half-hearted pillow fight which was quickly broken up by Kat's mom. All too soon they were falling asleep spread out across the pillowtop.

Somewhere in the middle of the night, Sarah woke to find herself covered in sweat, hotter than she'd ever recalled feeling. She stripped her pajama top and cast it to the floor. The cool air of the room left her teeth chattering as she curled up beneath the thick blanket trying to will warmth into her suddenly freezing body.

It felt like an eternity as she shivered in the bed and though she feared she might wake Katerina, the brunette never stirred from her sleep.

Sarah had looked forward to a weekend of running barefoot outside, playing games, and watching TV but Mother Nature had other plans. The pain came in waves and the aching pulse of the aftermath made her want to vomit as the early morning light slipped between the vertical slit of the window drapes to stab painfully at her eyes. Rising from the bed she found to her horror a pinkish-brown stain on the sheets beneath her. She squealed and pressed her thighs together as she felt a veritable outpour from between her legs. The scent of copper tinged the morning air.

The sound of Sarah's alarmed exclamation roused Katerina from her sleep mere inches from the stain. Kat had taken one sleepy look at the stain, yawned, and rolled back over. "Tampons are in the top drawer." She waved her hand in the direction of her dresser before drifting back to sleep.

Having nothing further to go on, Sarah went to the indicated drawer and pulled one linen-esque fiber package from a box and hurried on her way to the bathroom. An awkward feeling of unease settled over her as she attempted to pass unseen through a house she had never felt the need to sneak through. Her first relaxed breath of the morning came when the door to the bathroom clicked softly behind her but the moment was fleeting. In her haste to exit she hadn't bothered to read the directions on the box. Forcibly taking a deep breath she assured herself that she could figure it out. How hard could it be?

Sarah pulled down the shorts she wore as pajamas and felt dizzy at the sight of the blood on her thighs and in her favorite panties. Some streaks were crimson and fresh but there were other spots of dark, congealing blood that made her stomach froth and churn. Gripping the sides of her underwear she pulled the material down, clenching her jaw tightly as the thin material clung to the mess of her sparse-but-matted pubic hair and her skin. She hissed as a new wave of pain contracted her stomach and she squeezed her eyes shut against the sensation as her free hand clutched her lower belly.

With shaking hands, she lowered herself to the toilet seat, grimacing at the bloody fingerprints she left on the porcelain sink-top. She opened the cloth package and examined the plastic tube with the cotton insert waiting within. Sarah placed one foot in the window, spreading her legs wide to give her room to work feeling awkward and exposed. With the applicator between her legs she pushed it in, barely stifling a scream as the plastic edge painfully pinched her lips. The pain shot through her and tears stung the corners of her eyes as she tried once more to insert the tampon. She bit her lip once more as her body rebelled against the object and despair filled her. Looking around, she saw the mess she had made compared to her progress with this task that Katerina had indicated with a bored proficiency. As she pressed a third time and once more pain tore through her she panicked at her ineptitude. What if it couldn't fit? What if there was something wrong with her?

Sarah's heart raced as her thoughts spiraled out of control. Her body had betrayed her. She was going to bleed to death in her best friend's bathroom.

Tears stung her eyes and she felt the scream rising in her mouth.

Cramps twisted her gut, fisting her organs, stealing her breath and silencing her. Her body shook with such force that she dropped the tampon to the floor and felt the fresh flow of blood from between her lips. Curling over on herself she tried to reach the tampon on the floor but the plastic shell skirted out of the reach of her fingers. Fresh pink streaks of blood trailed where her fingers had touched.

Her vision became blurry as frustration and embarrassment took root within. Extending her feet toward the tampon lost in the blurry expanse of the floor she felt for the case with her toes, the soles of her feet loudly slapping against the floor with every failed attempt. The plastic touched against her toes for a moment but as she tried to grip with her feet she only succeeded in kicking the tampon further out of reach. Now her eyes were heavy with tears and her vision swam behind the wall of water.

She was quietly sobbing, barely holding herself together, as a gentle knock sounded at the door. Sarah looked down at the mess of her underwear, the red fluid on her fingertips, and the useless plastic tube still occupied by the cotton insert the rim of which was shiny with crimson. Across the floor were a myriad spill of bottles and lotions tubes Sarah was certain she'd knocked over with her feet. As her tears began to fall her vision faded to swirls of meaningless colors she spoke because there was nothing else to do.

"Come in." Her voice sounded unfamiliar, broken.

She felt hands on her own, heard the scrape of the applicator taken from the floor. Sarah felt bad that Katerina had had to come to her rescue but she couldn't deny the calming effect of that familiar brown hair now heavily distorted by a continuous flow of tears.

***

Owen woke to the call of nature as he had every morning since age 4. He rubbed his hands over his sleep-crusted eyes, rearranged the twisted tangle of his boxer shorts, and stretched until his back let out a satisfying pop. Drunkenly stumbling from his bedroom, he had just enough awareness to stop his door from bumping against the wall; a transgression his father had lectured him over on no less than seventeen-thousand different occasions.

The hall was clear and the wooden floor gleamed from his mother's newest application of wood cleaner and polish. Overall the boards gleamed with a high gloss but as Owen neared the bathroom door a marring imperfection caught his eye. Looking closer he found a splotch of red liquid. He bent to dip his finger into the color for closer inspection but an insistent slapping sound -- like feet striking the floor -- brought his head around. When the slapping sound was joined with a cacophony of bottles hitting the floor Owen flashed a look in the direction of his parents' bedroom door. He waited, crouched in the floor, fingers still outstretched but no sound issued from the room at the end of the hall. He stood and turned to face the bathroom door again.

Owen had been raised to be a gentleman and he knew that a gentleman is always supposed to knock before entering a room. He knew the protocol well but on this morning something seemed to call to him strongly enough that the gentleman mentality was relegated to the wastes of consciousness. He barely felt, much less heard, his own knock as his hearing focused on the regular hitching breaths of sobbing beyond the door.

Unexpected, to be certain, he received a response. A heartbreaking call for help was tapped out like Morse code in the cracking, "Come in" called through the door.

He placed his hand on the shining knob of the door and for just a moment his brain registered the biting chill of the metal against his warm skin. He took a breath, feeling the air inflate his lungs until a burning sting left him exhaling fast and quiet. It was almost as if his body was preparing him for something truly unexpected. Owen twisted the knob and found that it was unlocked. Whoever waited beyond must have been in a hurry and forgotten to turn the lock. Owen pushed and the door opened silently on its hinges.

For a moment he almost screamed as his eyes shot around the room taking in the streaks of bright red smeared on various surfaces. His mouth went dry as he caught sight of the petite crimson handprints gripping both sides of the sink top and the finger streaks on the floor in front of the toilet. His heart pounded in his chest as he finally noticed the still, twisted form of the strawberry blonde curled over on the toilet. Her clothes were around her ankles and blood filled the lining of her underwear. The longer he looked at her the more the blood seemed to cover her skin. It was on her ankles, near her knees, smearing her thighs. Owen felt his knees trembling, felt his stomach tossing and turning. He honestly feared he would vomit until his concern for her won him out.

He briefly worried that Sarah had been murdered before his brain connected the sobbing noise, and the broken 'Come in' with her rising and falling chest. It was at that moment that things began to click into place for Owen and his heart began to slow back to normal.

Period.

The word hung in his mind and he remembered snippets of conversation he'd overheard while his mother had talked to Katerina about puberty and a "young woman's development." When the discussion of 'that time of the month" came up Owen had found himself intrigued and disgusted simultaneously. He had caught whispered words of 'blood,' 'pain,' and what he would have sworn was 'chunks.' He grimaced at the recollection. Little boxes of items he'd never seen before had begun popping up around the house and he'd read the descriptions printed on the boxes with a fascination he couldn't explain. He'd probably read the box about a thousand times. One morning he'd even opened one of the packages, pulled the cotton roll out only to accidentally drop it in the toilet. He'd been impressed with the way the cotton expanded in the toilet until he realized he would have to pick the cotton back out of the bowl. Standing in this room with Sarah, her pants down, the lower half of her delicate body on horrific, lewd display Owen saw the packaging words float before his eyes once more.