Smiling Psychopaths Poppy Playtime Novels & Stories

Lucas nods his head. “That's a good little bitch.” I slap his cheek. I walk back around and rub my hands together in anticipation. My fingers twitch, the urge to smoke a joint while I work overcomes me and I pull one out of my pants pocket. It's a little crushed, but not enough to make it unsmokable. I light it and take a deep puff. “Oh yeah.” My shoulders relax. After a few more hits, I put it out on Lucas’ ass. I ignore his muffled scream and grab the dildo.

Myrna said as she helped Poppy out of another dress before handing her a fluffy white robe, “And I am so sorry I called you a brat. I understand now, sort of, why you got so upset.” “Thank you.” Poppy wasn’t sure what to say. It’s all right wasn’t the right statement, because it wasn’t. Nothing about her past was alright and assumptions made were never OK. But she also kind of understood. “Trust me, Poppy, you are not a toy, not a doll, not a flavor of the month.” Patting Poppy’s hand, Myrna poured a cup of tea for both of them.