Semua Bab Pure Pleasures (A Collection of short Stories): Bab 31 - Bab 40

The gates of the old National Guard armory screeched open as the trucks rolled in. Floodlights powered by rumbling generators lit up the razor wire on top of the fences. Jax’s base. Home to forty-three raiders now, maybe more if the last scavenging crew made it back. Bonfires crackled in the central yard and the smell of grilled rat meat and cheap whiskey hung thick in the night air. Men looked up from their spots. A few whistled when they saw Elena in the back of the pickup, hair messed up, jacket barely covering her torn scrubs. “Jax got fresh pussy!” someone shouted. Laughter rippled through the camp. A woman with a collar around her neck kept her head down while stirring a pot over one fire. She knew better than to stare. Jax jumped out first and yanked Elena down by the arm. Her legs were shaky. Dried cum still stuck to her inner thighs. He kept one big hand on the back of her neck and pushed her forward through the yard. “Eyes front,” he growled when she tried to

The days blurred together in Elena's head inside Jax’s locked room. Three days after the public claiming, Elena hadn’t left the space once. The armory’s thick walls blocked most of the noise from the yard, but she could still hear the generators though and occasional shouts from the men outside. Jax kept her naked most of the time. He said it was easier that way. He brought her food himself: canned peaches, stale crackers, and actual meat from a recent raid. He watched her eat every bite. At night he'd pulled her tight against his chest, one heavy arm draped over her waist like a chain. During the day he fucked her whenever the mood hit him. Sometimes slow and long, other times hard and rough, she'd usually scream into the pillow. “You’re mine now,” he’d growl against her neck every single time he pounded her. “Only mine.” Elena stopped fighting after the second day. Her body had grown used to him. She hated how easily she came nowadays, how her pussy would get wet the secon

The next couple weeks I turned up the heat, slow at first. I wasn’t rushing it. Professor Kane had shut me down hard and completely,but that only made it better. I could still see that flicker in his eyes when I left his office, and I know he felt it also. Now I just had to make it impossible for him to ignore me. I started with the emails. Nothing too obvious. I kept them looking like normal student shit. Hey Professor Kane, I’ve been thinking more about that tension between duty and desire we talked about in class. Some nights I can’t stop turning it over in my head. Any extra readings you’d recommend for when the pull gets too strong to fight? Thanks, Sydney I hit send right before bed and smiled at my phone. His reply came the next morning, short and clipped. Sydney, See the syllabus for recommended texts. Stick to those. Prof. Kane *** I wore shorter skirts to his next office hours. Black pleated one that barely reached mid-thigh. Thin white tank to

We were at it again. It had only been three weeks since that first night I pushed Professor Kane too far and he finally snapped, but it felt like we’d been doing this forever. Every day after that, it got worse. We couldn’t stop. He’d text me at random hours — *my office, now* — and I’d go running. Sometimes we barely made it through a full conversation before he had me bent over his desk or on my knees with his cock down my throat. We both knew how fucked up it was. He kept saying “this is the last time,” but we both knew it was bullshit. The risk just made us hornier. Tonight was especially nasty. He had me face down on his desk again, my cheek pressed against some graded papers. My skirt was bunched around my waist, panties ripped off and tossed somewhere. Professor Kane was behind me, pounding me so hard the heavy wooden desk scraped across the floor with every brutal thrust. “Fuck… you’re such a dirty little slut,” he growled, his voice low and mean. One hand went strai

I killed the engine in the driveway and just sat there for a minute, staring at the house, glancing in my mind. Four years away at college and it still looked the same,, this vbig, ugly McMansion with the perfectly trimmed hedges and the fountain that never worked right. But something felt off. The lights inside were too dim and the whole place felt... heavier instantly, even from the outside. My back ached from the drive, my stomach was a knot of ramen and anxiety, and my phone kept buzzing with another cheerful debt collector reminder. *Welcome home, Aria. Hope you brought cash.* I grabbed my duffel and the sad cardboard box of random shit from my dorm and headed for the front door. Mom opened it before I could even knock, pulling me into one of those too-tight family hugs before I could even speak. “Oh honey, you’re finally back! Look at you. So thin. Have you been eating?” “Trying,” I muttered, forcing a smile. She looked... older. Thinner too, in a way that wasn’t fash