Out Of Control

Alexander

The memory of that humiliation, the image of her distress, stoked the fires of my anger to an inferno. I was resolved, unwavering in my determination to make the offender pay the most grievous of prices for his insolence.

I could still remember his face clearly. The one who had ripped off her clothes and had violated her most disgustingly.

I could still picture how they spread her open on stage, her puffy wet pussy glistening to the full glare of everyone as they fisted into it like wild animals.

The rage I felt was a calculated, cold anger – the kind that allowed me to remain composed in the face of chaos. It was the anger of a man who had seen and endured much, who had become a kingpin in a world where ruthlessness was a currency power.

If I hadn’t bottled my anger, the stage would have been painted with their blood.

My jaw was clenched in a vice, each muscle in my body drawn taut with anticipation. I sat on a leather couch with my legs crossed, as I waited in a dark room b