Total LockDown (LockDown #2) (5 page)

BOOK: Total LockDown (LockDown #2)
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Chapter
Nine
Leighton

 

I couldn’t bear
to be around her, she was making me self-destructive. I had to get out of that
kitchen. That’s why I have taken my daughter and left her there.

I am sitting in
my office now, with the door locked and my sleeping beauty cradled against my
shoulder. She is perfect, the most precious thing to ever be created. She is
all the good I love about Abigail. The beauty, the innocence, the unconditional
love all rolled into one bundle of joy. God I miss her, the real her, so
fucking much. Just the smell of her around me makes me whole.

I can feel
myself welling up, I don't want to cry, I have to be there for my daughter, I
have to remain strong for her and myself. Abigail needed to get better, I
wasn’t having her around Melissa on that fucking crap. I knew eventually I
could forgive her, hell I was probably just as bad. Just yesterday, I had my
fingers buried inside Kalina’s pussy. I just need to know I can trust her a
hundred percent before I let her back here.

I get up from my
chair as the half hour mark hits, kind of hoping she is still around to say
goodbye, I already miss her beautiful face. I can't get the images and
recollection of her pleading cries and distraught face, as she begged me to let
her explain.

Right now, I
don't want to have to hear about it, I’d already seen it. I just need some time
to get my head around the whole situation. Soon, I decide, I will let her talk,
but for now I need to let some steam off to make sure I don't go in horns
first.

I open the
office door and search the lower areas of the house, where she normally is.
There’s no sign of her anywhere. I walk upstairs to our bedroom, she isn’t in
here either. As I go to close the door, I see a note and her ring on the side.
I know she has left me; she is gone.

I pick up the
tear stained sheet and begin to read. My heart breaks inside of me to see those
words on paper, her beautiful handwriting telling me she was going.

I pick up the
ring, holding in firmly between my fingers. I look at it, and then hold it to
my chest. She has gone, she has left and I am glad. Not because I despised her,
or hated her, but because it’s what she needs. I don't know if her childhood
has some fucked up connection to why she is acting the way she is, but if she
needs to heal herself once again, I wasn’t going to stop her.

I still can't
look at her face without seeing that arsehole all over her, with that total
look of ecstasy over her face. I am trying hard to wipe those images out, but I
can't, I don't know how to. All I do know is that I need to try a damn site
harder if I was to fix my broken family, to get my girl down the aisle in June.

 

*****

 

It has been
exactly two days, six hours and thirty-seven seconds since Abigail walked away
from me. Well temporarily that is. There is no way I can live like this
permanently. If these last two days have done anything, they’ve taught me that
I love her for everything she is, all of her faults. That isn’t to say she can
weasel back into my life with nothing said, she hasn’t earned my trust yet.
There isn’t going to be any more Mister nice guy with her, no more hiding my
true self. If she wants me, she has to take the real me.

There are things
about me she doesn’t know, even my boys don't know. My team know of my dominant
tendencies, to the extent of going to the club to unleash my inner controlling
prick, but she doesn’t. No one, and I mean no one, knows about the part of me I
hated but loved at the same time, the part of me my father had driven me to.

If I had been
the guy I usually was, with Abigail, then she wouldn’t have even contemplated
going to see Phillip. If I had trained her from the second she was mine,
teaching her control, discipline and submission, she would never have gone. She
would have known, no, meant no.

Melissa is
pining for her mother something chronic. My heart bleeds for her; all she wants
is her mother’s warm arms and scent to sleep to, the nurturing aura she emits.
I have somehow coped on my own, feeding, bathing, changing and just stimulating
her the way a father is meant to, but I need Abbi here with me, as a team, the
way it should be.

I pick my phone
up from the table, as I do every hour these past two days, in hope she might
have text or called me to say hello, or ask how Mel is. I know she is okay
because I have been in contact with Antonio constantly asking about her. I have
made him aware of her addiction and had him take her pills away. He is to dish
them out if and when she really needs them. She has no control over how many
she takes, so she needs someone with reason there to assist her through this
tough time. I want to be the one to do that for her, but she needs time alone, so
I will give it to her no matter how much it kills me.

I write a text
to her and send it.

Abbi,

Hope you
are okay.

Melissa is
missing you. Would it be okay to visit tomorrow afternoon?

Leighton

 Nice and
simple. No ‘I love you’, ‘I miss you’ or ‘I need you’. Just simply about our
child and that’s the way it will be until I can face being with her and not
have any pain inside my heart.

A text beeps
through a few seconds later.

Hi,

I miss her
and you.

I would
love to see her tomorrow.

Debbie and
Maria are taking me out tonight for a dance.

Hope you
are okay.

I love you
Leighton.

Abbi xx

 

God, why does
the thought of her going out, scare the living shit out of me? I don't want her
out there, around other men, their hands and eyes roaming all over her. She is
mine. MINE.

 Right now though
I have no claim to her, I have treated her little utter crap, made her feel as
worthless as her fucking father had.

Enjoy
yourself; we will both see you tomorrow.

Goodnight Abigail,
and please stay safe.

Leighton x

 

I type back
quickly, and then turn my phone onto silent, not wanting to know what she is
doing or where she is going.

I feed, bath and
change Melissa into her nightclothes. I lie her down in her cot for her bedtime
sleep. It is getting late, close on eleven o’clock. I am sure she is probably
out now, having a good time, but I still can't help worrying.

I’m sat at my
desk, working through some of the paperwork for the restaurant, when I get a
text through.

Hey Baby,
it’s Kalina.

So, when
are we hooking up again seeing as you aren’t with that little whore anymore.
She looks rather slutty out tonight, especially with that skanky tongue of hers
down some bloke’s throat. Just through you should know.

Anyways,
text me back when you’re free.

Love you
xxx

P.S. I
attached a nice picture or two for you.

 

I feel fucking
violent, I can't be sure if Kalina is telling the truth, she has been known to
lie a fuck load to get my attention.

I open the first
of the images, my cock suddenly threatening to split my tracky bottoms as it
stiffens at the sight of her bare wet shaven pussy. I flick to the next one,
another woman’s mouth licking and feasting on her. I am trying my hardest to
not let it affect me, to try and push my cock back down, but with the images
now on loop in my head I can't stop my dick as he presses firmly against the
cotton. I flick to the third image, this one of Kalina tied to a bed on her
stomach, a spreader bar placed between her shapely legs, her cunt on show. The
same hot as hell woman bringing a flogger down against her arse cheeks.

Holy shit, I was
becoming frustrated very quickly, not to mention my dick was pulsating and
begging for release.

Fuck it. I pull
my joggers down a little, slipping my hand inside to pull free my stone hard
length. A pool of precum already lay on the tip, wanting to be licked clean,
but I swipe my finger across it, collecting it on my tip before wrapping my
lips around it, sucking it clean. As the salty freshness assaulted my mouth, my
dick throbbed achingly and rapidly.

I wrap my hand
around the girth, the other hand holding my IPhone. I stroke up and down,
circling the tip on each upwards movement. My head falls back of its own
accord, relishing in the feeling I was bringing to myself.

I manage to lift
my head to continue looking at the pictures, the next one, Kalina on a St.
Andrews cross, the same woman once more, wielding the same flogger as she
brought it down onto her red striped arse. She had captioned the image ‘see
what you’re missing baby. This could be you, I know you want it to be’ and I
fucking do, I miss doing this to her, to anyone willing to submit to me. I miss
the feel of the corded handle of my whip, braising my skin as I marked the fuck
out of her beautiful soft flesh.

The grip on my
cock tightens to an almost strangle, the blood pumping ferociously through me,
keeping me hard as granite.

Another image
flicks on the screen, one that has me almost spurting. Kalina, lay on the bed,
a cock in her arse, pussy and mouth, three men fucking her, using and abusing
her tight little body. I can see the pure ecstasy on her pretty face as they
drill her good and hard.

One more image
to go, I’m not sure I can even last till then, I can already feel the cum
working up from my balls like hot lava, threatening to spill over.

I close my eyes
tight, clenching them as my hand strokes the length of my cock, hard and fast,
my firm grip causing my spunk the gush from the slit at the head.

Squirt after squirt
of hot semen pools on my bare stomach, the divots between my abs collecting the
salty liquid.  

I manage to
flick to next image as I continue milking myself for all its worth.

It was a little
dark to see, to begin with, I strain my eyes searching for another hot picture
to help me drain my balls. I read the caption attached and try to decipher what
was happening in the darkness.


The whore
likes to score’
as I
manage to focus my eyes enough on the picture, I can clearly see Abbi. My hand
releases from around my cock and holds the phone along with the other.

She is dressed,
in what I can only assume she borrowed from a streetwalker; her hand is
clasping another guy’s crotch, her tongue in his mouth, his hands on her arse.

I can see him
slipping her something, sliding the little packet into the back pocket of the
‘shorts’ she is wearing, if you can call them that. Her cheeks are pretty much
out of the material. When Kalina meant score, she clearly meant scoring drugs.
She isn’t coping without her tranquilisers, that’s for sure. I am fucking
fuming she is buying in a club, from a stranger, but worst of all, she is
touching him, everywhere.

I throw my phone
at the wall, smashing it into a dozen pieces.

Fuck this
fucking shit. I stand and the cum on my stomach trickles down onto my cock and
cotton bottoms. I tuck him back inside, rubbing the semen in so it dries
quicker.

I call Antonio
from my landline, asking him if he can come and look after Mel. I need to get
out of here, and fast. I need to gain from control back in my life.

Then I call
Scott, and ask him to meet me at ‘The Den’, a club we both frequented often,
normally together. Most of my boys are in the scene in one way or another, the
twins as much as me, if not more.  There is no way I’m asking her best friends,
boyfriends to come with me. I don't want or need her knowing what I am about to
do.

Before Ant
arrives, I have managed to shower and change into some smarter clothes. I had
managed to line up and snort five lines, making me higher than a mother-fucking
kite, and horny as a schoolboy.

This is going to
be a good night, I can feel it in my bones, every bone I possess, even the
raging one sticking prominently into the zipper of my faded jeans.

I collect a few
of my usual things, placing them in the lockable bag I always took with me. I
am ready and roaring to go. I know Kalina will be there, she always is. What
better way to release some fucking rage, than to mark her beautiful, deceptive,
backside for the shit she has repeatedly put me through?

When Antonio
arrives and Melissa is sound asleep, I pick up my jacket, grab my keys and
collect my bag. Then I fuck off out of my house before I kill someone.

Chapter
Ten
Abigail

 

I am desperate,
fucking desperate for a fix. I am now groping some bloke in a nightclub to get
some kind of relief from anything they can supply me. It doesn’t have to be
anti-anxiety tablets, just anything to make me chill a little. I am suffering
badly; I have been for the past two days, since he kicked me out. Antonio has
refused to give me any of my own, I am shaking uncontrollably and feeling sick
and tired. I need just a small bit, a small fix to tide me over until I was
home again.

“Jesus,
sweetheart, your arse is fucking incredible.” The guy mumbles out over the
pounding music.

“Cheers. So is
it in there?” I ask him, knowing he is touching my backside to place something
in the pocket on the back of my shorts.

“It is, but I
don't take money darling, that’s not how I roll. How ‘bout let’s take this
somewhere a little less crowded and a little more private and you can pay me
there.” I don't have a chance to answer because his hand is clasping mine and
he is dragging me through the sea of sweating and gyrating bodies. I am feeling
nervous, anxious and scared. I need to take whatever he has given me, and soon.

He pulls me into
an unused cloakroom at the back of the bar/club. The musty, damp smell hits my
nostrils, making me feel uncomfortable. I feel as though I’m on an episode of
one of those fucked up crime watch programmes. That’ll be the news tomorrow
‘Young
mother of one found dead in cloakroom at night club, class A drugs found on her
body’
what a bloody fantastic parent I’m turning out to be.

“So, sweetness,
about that payment..?” He pushes me against the wall, his erection hard against
my stomach. I feel sick to my stomach, but I need whatever is in my pocket. I
want to be able to sleep at night without  waking up by something plaguing my
brain.

“Aha, what do
you want?” I ask him outright. I feel like a whore right now, the one Leighton
thought me to be, pimping myself out for the smallest break from the feelings
inside of me, but there is nothing else I can do, no one understands what I am
going through. No one would be able to help anyway, there is only one thing I
consider to take the edge off and it was in my jeans pocket.

“Well, my dick
is throbbing like a bitch, and I think your beautiful mouth could do something
to help with it, don't you?” he pushes me down the wall, my back scraping
against the age old bricks, my knees connecting with cement floor roughly.

I gulp down the
bile rising up my oesophagus; I know I have to do this, just the one time. It
will be over quickly, if I use the techniques Leighton had taught me, every man
would go crazy for the skills I possess.

I breathe out a
shaky breath as my hands reach for his slacks and unzip them. The guy has
style, that’s for sure. He is wearing a crisp, expensive suit, perfectly styled
hair with designer stubble on his jaw and a toned hard body. His appearance
will make this degrading process a hell of a lot easier, and the reward of the
substance he has for me, will make me continue, regardless of how I am feeling
inside my heart and head.

I draw the
material of the expensive charcoal suit, down his thighs. His cock juts free,
not imprisoned by underwear. What is it with every man I let use my body,
deciding underwear isn’t a good thing to wear, it just makes this whole thing a
hundred times worse in my head, for some reason.

I mentally prep
myself, encourage and fight myself. I have to do this, the shakes attacking my
body are becoming uncontrollable and the pain in my skull is so fucking fierce
I am ready to rip off my own head. I need sleep but I will do anything for five
minutes of peace from my thought, fears and regrets.

I remind myself,
I am single now. I had called it off. Leighton has no reason to be upset with
me, unless you count desperately scraping for drugs, the one thing I had
assured him I was sorting out. I am sure Leighton is enjoying his newfound
freedom; he seemed very keen to get rid of me two days ago.

I use this
knowledge to continue this dirty, disgusting act.

I surround his
hard, impressive dick with my small petite hand. I am gobsmacked by the
thickness of the thing; my fingers unable to reach completely around it. I gulp
down my shock, as I lick my lips.

“I know
sweetheart, it’s a very nice dick, I rather like it, but if you would be so
kind, please put it where I have asked you. Open up.” I part my lips, ready to
get this finished off quickly.

My tongue darts
out instinctively to lick the pre-cum from the tip of his dick. God, why did my
body always betray me in this kind of situation, always making me want it badly
but in my head I am screaming for it to stop.

I lean forward,
taking him in my mouth, as much of him as I can, that is. His masculine scent
of arousal is prominent on him. The taste does nothing for me, and sorts the
problem with my betraying body. My only thought driving me to continue, is the
small packet in my back pocket.

“Oh, God, that’s
fucking good. That’s it darling; take me deep in your throat.” His fingers fix
themselves firmly in my hair, wrapping my long blonde locks around his hands.
He uses my head at his disposal, fucking my throat with a sick perversion,
gagging me severely. With his every thrust  deep into my mouth, I am ready to
spew my guts, my stomach aching from the emptiness there. I haven’t eaten
properly for the two days and I am now feeling the consequences of it.

“Oh, Shit, I’m
gonna cum.” He moans loudly as he fills my mouth and throat with his semen, the
salty substance causing me to retch hard. Oh, fuck, that is nasty, I really am
not in any kind of mood for sex and that is just pure vile.

I fake a smile
up at him as I swallow it down, trying my hardest to act as though I have
enjoyed myself.

“Hmm, that is
good. You really have a lovely mouth, baby.” He places his hand under my chin
and pulls to raise me to my feet.

Now eye level
with him, my four-inch platforms making me taller than usual, I can see the
dilation of his pupils. They are full of pure lust and greed; it is potent in
his body like a toxic poison. “Thank you for the stuff.” I tell him and I kiss
his check for god measure, and then turn on my heels and walk away.

His hand grabs
my upper arm, twisting me back toward him, harshly. “Sweetheart, you don't
seriously believe that I would give you a hundred quid’s worth of ‘K’, and you
sucking me off would pay for it.” He sees my confused expression, the absolute
revolution in myself smacking me full force, as I realise once again I haven’t
made a difference by using my body as payment. “You stupid, naive little bitch.
Now hand over the paper.”

I search through
my handbag, retrieving two fifty pound notes and then handing them to him. As
he stands there and checks the money, I turn and make my exit fast.

When I return to
the bar I can't see Maria or Debbie anywhere, but I need to use the stuff I
have purchased. I have no clue what I have bought, but the prick had said it
would take the edge of everything.

The people
around me are closing in rapidly, my chest feeling as though a vice is
squeezing it. I forget about my friends, as I barge through the crowded room,
pushing people out of the way. I push open the bathroom door and run to the
only available cubicle, my blood pressure rising dramatically.

I shut and lock
the door behind me, fetching the bag from my rear pocket. I stare at a white
powder inside it, calling to me like a magnet.

I have no clue
what it is, looks to me as though it is cocaine. I empty the entire bag,
measuring and lining up an easy four lines. Four rows will be okay, I can
handle that much perfectly. I have done coke a few too many times in my life
and I knew my limit was way above four.

I roll a note up
from my purse, and stick it up my nostril. I use a finger to seal the other
nostril closed, then lower my head and begin to snort the streaks one after the
other. The burning sensation as it enters my airway and into my blood stream
settles me instantly. I don't care about the state of the toilet seat, the
bathroom or the club for that matter, I am just relieved to feel the drugs kicking
in and numbing me.

I fall back so
my arse is rested on my heels, my head now feeling airy and light. I am so
weightless I find it hard to move my limbs at all. I feel fucking fantastic,
whatever the stuff is, I need more.

I dust the few
speckles from the seat and then attempt to stand. I get my first leg up and
then it gives way on me, causing me to crash against the floor.

“You okay in
there Hun?” I hear a bang at the door and the girly voice sound from the other
side.

Sure, ‘cause you
really care don't you, you little slut. Nobody is ever bothered about poor old
me. “I’m fantastic thanks. I’ll be out in a second.” I say to her.

I try again,
using every ounce of strength I house inside me, to get myself from the dirty
floor. My head rushes as I stand, making me feel dizzy and high. I unlock the
bolt on the door and pull it open. I smile at the petite little emo chick on
the other side.

 “All yours,
sweet cheeks.” I gesture to the stall and then walk across the restroom to the
sink to clean my hands and face.

“Look at you,
Abbi, you’re a fucking mess.” I talk to myself in the mirror as I wipe the
smeared mascara from around my hollow eyes, probably looking like I’m bat shit
crazy to every other punter. I can see everyone staring at me, judging me.
“Take a picture, would you.” I say looking at the many faces looking at me in
the mirror. “Stupid fucking pricks.” I say under my breath as I run the tap and
splash some water to cool my sweat stained face.

They continue to
glare at me, their evil eyes focused on my face. “You’re worthless Abbi, you’re
just a useless piece of meat, Leighton doesn’t want you. No one will ever want
you. Not even your own daddy wanted you.” They begin to laugh at me, at least
twelve different faces. “HAHAHA, you stupid cheap whore, will do anything to
get what she wants.” The high pitch cackles sever through me, slicing at my
soul.

My head is
floating somewhere else above me but I can't move I am stood still. I am
watching myself outside of the vessel in which I barely exist. The out of body
experience freaks me out.

“Go away, all of
you. Just shut up stop fucking talking.” I scream and try to lift my hands to
scrub them away. I manage to lift them, and pound at the mirror with them, hard
enough to shatter it everywhere. The sharp shards slice at my hands. “Fuck off,
please just leave me alone. Please, someone, help me.” I continue to smash at
the glassless wall, the concrete cutting my knuckles. My blood is covering the
walls and I am hitting hard enough the split the skin open, relentlessly
attempting to rid the noise from my ears.

The voices and
people are still here, I can still see them in the wall, even without the
glass, I just want them to leave me alone.

“Leighton,
Leighton, please baby, help me. LEIGHTON HELP!” I scream for him. He will know
how to help me, he will tell everyone to go away and leave me alone. He always
saves me, rescues me, even from myself.

My body begins
to shake violently, horrible convulsions spreading through me. I can't stop
them, or control them. My body drops to the hard floor, my head smashing
against the porcelain sink on the way. I have spit dribbling down my chin, my
jaw aching from banging together.

I can still hear
them laughing at me. They are gaining ground on me, their feet beginning to
kick at the pathetic pile on the floor that is me. A few of them are crouched
down poking at me, taunting me to retaliate. I grab at my hair through my
shakes, trying to rip it out, trying to stop the noise. “LEAVE ME ALONE, FUCK
OFF EVERYONE, PLEASE, LEAVE ME, I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG, I WAS JUST TRYING
TO HELP. ARGGHHH.” I scream as nausea rises in my throat, my empty stomach dry
heaving, the agonising and tensing feelings flooding through me.

The pain in my
head is swamping me; my vision is a huge blur. Tiny speckles of light filter
through, dark shadows mixing with the cloudiness in my brain. The darkness
coming for me, like it always does. The shadows I see casting me into a total
blackness that petrifies my almost lifeless body.

“Leighton, save
me.” I whimper to myself, curled in a tight ball on the floor. My arms wrap
around myself as I shake. I feel myself blacking out into nothingness.

BOOK: Total LockDown (LockDown #2)
5.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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