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You may think you know the story of the Grinch, but I promise, this one is much darker.
Her body was a weapon made to destroy me, and she used it well.
“The only thing I want to hear out of you right now is the sound of you choking on my cock as I fuck your face.”
Fuck, she was irresistible, a fucking vixen sent to torture me in all the best ways.
“Easy, freckles,”
“I think it’s time I show them just how much of a monster I really am.”
“What do you say we pay little ol’ Whoreville a visit, Max? It’s time they learn what happens when a monster finally snaps at the hand that beats him.”
I’m coming for you, Gus. And you too, May-Martha.
Normally, I could slip something in his drink or get him to knock out sooner,
Did you think I was gone? Say hello to Gus for me, May-Martha. I’m coming for you.
“You were perfectly wicked,” he grunted as he lifted me higher, my legs automatically wrapping around his torso as he kissed my neck. Perfectly wicked… What a beautiful thing to be called.
“I need to fuck you, freckles. Right here. Right now.”
“You need me? Take me. Fuck me as hard as you can. I’m yours to break.”
Jealous? No, I’m not jealous. I’m territorial. You’re mine. Despite all these years with me, you're still thinking of her.
That’s right. You need me. Me. Not May-Martha. And I’m going to spend every moment reminding you of that.
“The Grouch is back! Whoreville is in a panic,
“Y-you’re the—the—” “The-the-the. Go on.”
“T-the Grouch,”
You’re next, Cindy. I’m coming for you.
“That’s where you’re wrong, freckles. The only heart I have is tattooed across my chest.”
“You may not say it, but I know, deep in your rotten core, your mean heart beats for me. Same as her.”
“I know everything that dark, twisted little heart of yours desires.”
“I’m not a fucking boy,” he snarled, slapping my bare ass hard as I gasped, inching closer to his lips. “I’m a goddamn monster.” His tongue flicked my swollen clit, my spine straightening and back arching at the contact. I couldn’t help but faintly cry out, rocking my pelvis as he snaked closer, tasting my wet, aching pussy. My bound hands pressed against the cold floor, the warmth of the lights contrasting against the cold air as I began to sweat, my breasts swaying with my movements. “That’s right,” I breathed. “Now eat me like the big, bad monster you are.”
“I can feel the fever burning between your legs,” he breathed into me. “Go on and soak my face, freckles. Suffocate me with your tasty cum.”
He gripped my face and forced my mouth open, my tongue curling out as he spit down my throat,
“You better come inside this pussy, or I’m going to fuck you from behind with one of your favorite little toys.”
“Just promise to fuck me real good, and I’ll let you do whatever you want, freckles.”
“You better keep those eyes on me. I want you to watch as I make you come.”
“You’re so fucking intoxicating. I can’t get enough of you, of your body, of that pretty little cunt of yours.”
My fingers scrambled for the lighter, flicking it to life as I looked up at Max. She was leaning over the handle of an axe, the bloody
“Now, tell me: what is little Miss May-Martha doing all the way out here on this side of Whoreville?”
“We are one and the same, he and I; two souls stitched together in the shadows of our pain. The world hated us, and in that rejection, we found each other.”
Inked into my pale skin was a red heart, a matching tattoo we once got in secret to always remember the one thing we’d always share.
“Our hearts are one, always and forever. He can’t give you what isn’t his.”
“It’s almost Christmas, May-Martha,”
“Santa is coming. Too bad you’ve been a naughty girl.”
Cindy was propped against the metal trash cans, her body mutilated and both her hands missing.
You’re next, May-Martha.
“You’re a fucking drug, Max. A toxic and wicked habit.”
As much as I don’t want to admit it, I do. I fucking love you, freckles. You’re crazy and beautiful and a fucking mess, just like me. You annoy the shit out of me and piss me off more than anyone else… but God, I fucking love you. All of you. Just don’t leave me. Ever.
