The Lovenemy Story of Silla and Rudy (Part 3)

 [Continue From Part 2]


Silla POV.

I woke up to the soft, early light streaming through the dusty motel window, my head still spinning from the whirlwind of last night. I turned my head, and there he was—Rudy, sprawled out naked beside me, looking oddly peaceful for someone who spent most of his life snarling and fighting. I felt a weird twist in my chest seeing him like that, so calm and almost... perfect. His body was sculpted, solid, like he was carved out of stone, even though I’d managed to defeat him more than a few times. It made no sense. I didn’t want it to make sense.

Still, I’d cuffed him before we fell asleep, just to be sure. No matter what had happened between us, I wasn’t going to take any chances. My eyes trailed over the metal clasp around his wrist, and I couldn’t help but smirk. Last night had been wild, and even now, I couldn’t quite wrap my head around how it happened. I’d shocked myself, honestly. I’d always thought that after everything, I wouldn’t be able to let a man get that close to me again. But there I was, waking up next to Rudy, the prince of the nastiest gang on earth.

What was it about him? Why him? It wasn’t like Rebecca and I were really together. We’d danced around it, played the game, but we were still lying to ourselves. But Rudy... Rudy was different. Maybe it was because he wasn’t pretending to be anything he wasn’t. He was raw, messed up, and I could see the cracks in his tough facade. I wanted to hate him, but here he was, lying beside me, so perfect and flawed at the same time. It made my head spin, and I didn’t like it.

I reached out and slapped his cheek, not too hard, but enough to jolt him awake. “Wake up, pretty boy,” I said, my tone more teasing than angry. “It’s a long journey ahead.”

He groaned, blinking blearily as he stirred, and I didn’t wait around for him to get his bearings. I slipped out of bed, took a quick shower, grabbed a bite to eat, and by the time I came back into the room, he was finishing getting dressed. I leaned against the doorframe, watching him tug on a blue polo shirt that clung to his muscular frame, showing off every line, every contour. He paired it with blue jeans, a belt, and—of course—the empty holster. I had to laugh at that.

“If I end up cutting your penis off, it’ll be just like that empty holster,” I said, grinning as he glanced up at me, still a little groggy. “Kidding,” I added with a playful wink, stepping forward to plant a quick kiss on his lips. The kiss was soft, almost gentle, like I was testing the waters again. It was weirdly intimate, and it left me feeling... confused, all over again.

“After I get my friend, you could come with me,” I said, pulling back just enough to look him in the eyes. “But I bet you won’t be telling anyone how I kicked your ass.”

Rudy’s lips curled into a lazy smile, the kind that made me want to punch him and kiss him at the same time. “Maybe I could be your boyfriend,” he joked, leaning closer, “and I’ll just wear a metallic cup for protection.”

I snorted, shaking my head as I tried to suppress a laugh. “Let’s just go, Rudy. We’ve got work to do.” I didn’t want to think about what he was suggesting, or what any of this meant. It was easier to just keep moving forward, to focus on the mission, because anything else felt too complicated, too messy.

We gathered our things, packed up the car, and hit the road, driving out of that sleepy little motel and heading straight toward Testiville. The sky was gray, heavy clouds hanging low, and the road stretched out ahead of us, long and empty. I kept my eyes on the horizon, but my mind kept wandering back to last night, to the way he’d looked at me, touched me, and it made my chest tighten.

As we drove, Rudy explained what we were heading into. “Testiville’s where they keep the girls,” he said, his voice flat, almost mechanical, like he was trying not to think too much about it. “It’s a bigger operation than the outpost. More security, more guys. They’ll be preparing for the next batch, which means Rebecca’s probably still there.”

I clenched my jaw, my hands tightening on the steering wheel. I’d been waiting for this, counting on this, but now that we were close, it felt like a weight pressing down on my chest. “How many people are we talking?” I asked, glancing over at him.

“More than at the outpost,” he said, his expression serious. “They don’t fuck around at the main hub. You need to be careful, Silla. Don’t get careless.”

I raised an eyebrow, giving him a sideways glance. “Careless? That’s rich, coming from you.”

“I’m serious,” he insisted, his tone sharp. “They’ll be on high alert. If you make one wrong move, they’ll know something’s up, and we’ll be screwed. I’m not saying this because I’m trying to control you—I’m saying it because I don’t want you to get yourself killed.”

I looked back at the road, biting my lip as I tried to push down the weird, warm feeling that his words brought up. It was almost like he cared, but I didn’t want to read into it. I couldn’t afford to. I needed to focus on getting Rebecca out, and I couldn’t let anything—anyone—distract me from that.

“Fine,” I said, my voice tight. “I’ll be careful. But we’re doing this my way, and you’d better be ready to play your part.”

Rudy didn’t argue. He just nodded, his eyes dark and unreadable. We drove in silence after that, the tension between us thick, the kind of tension that made the air feel heavy. And as we got closer to Testiville, I could feel my heart beating faster, my mind sharpening, ready for whatever came next.

I didn’t know what was going to happen once we got there, didn’t know if this weird, twisted connection between us would hold, but it didn’t matter. I had a mission, and I was going to see it through. And if Rudy wanted to follow, then he’d have to keep up.

 

Rudy POV

It had been almost 15 hours on the road, the long, winding drive finally bringing us to the main hub in Testiville. I was tired, but I didn’t care. The adrenaline was pumping through my veins, filling me with this wild, restless energy that kept me sharp, ready. I leaned back against the wall, smirking, feeling like I had everything under control. It was going to be an easy job. I’d ask the guards to bring out Rebecca, play the part, and then it would all be over. Simple.

I caught a glimpse of myself in a dusty, cracked mirror on the wall, and I couldn’t help but admire what I saw. Strong, powerful, muscles flexed under my shirt, like I was some kind of modern-day Hercules. I knew what I looked like—intimidating, commanding. That’s what made me the prince of The Wolves, and I liked it. I liked feeling like nobody could touch me.

But then, out of nowhere, I felt a quick, sharp tap against my balls, and my body jolted in surprise. I glanced down, and there was Silla, her fingers still hovering dangerously close.

“Don’t think you’re strong,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain. “You’re still weak. All men are weak.”

I clenched my jaw, the words biting into me, but I didn’t argue. I was tired of her saying that, tired of the way she always tried to cut me down, but I could ignore it. She could say whatever she wanted. I had other plans. As I looked at her, I felt something twist inside me, something dark and possessive. She’d been fighting me, defying me, but I was going to tame her. Make her see that she could be more than just this wild, rebellious girl. I imagined it—Silla, quiet, obedient, a good wife, just like my mom had been before she got tossed aside. Maybe she was the one who could bear my children, carry on my name.

I watched her, my eyes tracing the curve of her lips, the way her hair fell around her shoulders, and I couldn’t help but feel this surge of something…. I needed her to be mine. I leaned in a little closer, letting the idea take root, and then I asked, “Can we see each other again? After this?”

She laughed, a sharp, mocking sound that cut through the air. “That night was fun, but that’s just it,” she said, her tone casual, dismissive. “To be fair, this made me realize I love Rebecca.”

I froze. My mind went blank for a second, and then everything started to spin. What? She was choosing a girl over me? Silla was the first girl who hadn’t just fallen in line, the first who hadn’t given me what I wanted, and now she was telling me she was in love with someone else? “What do you mean?” I stammered, my voice shaking despite myself.

“Yeah,” she said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. “I think I love her more than a friend. Is that a problem?”

My blood boiled. She didn’t love me. She used me. I felt my hands clench into fists, my nails digging into my palms as I tried to hold back the rage building inside. This was it. This was my limit. When I saw the guard approaching, leading Rebecca towards us, Silla rushed forward, her eyes lighting up, and before I could even process it, they were kissing.

No. No, no, NO. My Silla was kissing her. MY Silla. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She was supposed to choose me, see me as the strong one, the one she couldn’t resist. I’d been rejected, humiliated, and I felt something inside me snap, like a tight cord finally breaking.

“YOU FUCKIN’ SHIT! GUARDS, GET THEM!” I shouted, my voice echoing through the hallway, loud and angry. The guards hesitated for a moment, confusion flickering across their faces, but then they moved in, surrounding Silla and Rebecca.

Silla’s eyes widened, and I saw her reach for the remote, the one that controlled the damn ring around my dick, but I was faster. I lunged forward, grabbing it out of her hand, and clutched it tight, my eyes wild. “This is my fuckin’ dick!” I yelled, my words tumbling out in a furious snarl.

“WHY?” Silla’s voice was sharp, filled with confusion and betrayal, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t thinking straight anymore, wasn’t thinking at all. All I could see was red, the rage pounding in my head like a drum.

The guards moved in, trying to restrain Silla and Rebecca, but she fought back, wild and desperate, her fists flying, her body twisting to evade their grasp. She managed to knock one guard down, but I was already on her, grabbing her by the arm, yanking her back, and she turned to face me, her eyes blazing.

“You don’t get to choose someone else!” I shouted, my voice cracking with anger, and I swung at her, hard. She blocked my punch, her arm deflecting the blow, but I was relentless. I swung again, forcing her back, my fists aiming for her ribs, her face, anything I could hit. I wanted to hurt her, to make her feel the same humiliation I felt, to punish her for making me feel weak.

But Silla was fast, and she was strong. She ducked under my arm, twisting out of my grasp, and drove her elbow into my side. Pain shot through my ribs, but I didn’t back down. I grabbed her hair, yanking her head back, and brought my knee up, trying to hit her stomach, but she twisted away, slamming her fist into my jaw.

I stumbled back, my head snapping to the side, and for a moment, I saw stars. But I didn’t stop. I charged at her, blind with rage, swinging wildly. Silla ducked, dodging my punches, and when I tried to grab her, she drove her knee up, aiming for my gut. I managed to twist away just in time, but I was losing it, my movements frantic, unfocused.

She landed a punch to my chest, hard enough to make me gasp, and I felt my back hit the wall. My head was spinning, my vision blurring, but I pushed off the wall and lunged at her, grabbing her by the neck and shoving her back.

For a moment, we struggled, her hands clawing at mine, her body twisting as she tried to break free, but I tightened my grip, forcing her down. I could see the guards closing in, their hands reaching out to grab her, and for a moment, I thought I’d finally won. But then she twisted, her knee shooting up, and caught me just below the ribs, knocking the wind out of me.

I stumbled, gasping, but I didn’t let go. I forced myself to stay on my feet, my eyes locking onto hers, and I swung again, my fist connecting with her cheek, hard. Her head snapped to the side, and she fell, hitting the ground with a thud.

I stood there, breathing hard, my hands shaking, my chest heaving, and I looked down at her, sprawled on the floor, her hair messy, blood trickling from her lip. I’d knocked her down.

 

Silla POV

I opened my eyes, blinking against the harsh lights that surrounded me, and I realized I was standing on a stage—the same stage where the strippers usually danced, but now it was me under the spotlight. I could feel a collar tight around my neck, heavy and cold, digging into my skin. My hands twitched, and before I could even process what was happening, a sharp, searing jolt of electricity shot through the collar, burning into my skin, making my muscles spasm.

“ARGHHH!” I shouted, my body jerking uncontrollably. The pain was intense, but I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to stay upright. I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction. When the shock stopped, I let out a breath, and then, despite the pain, I started to laugh.

I could see Rudy standing there, his face twisted, a mixture of anger and frustration, and it was like he was struggling to keep control, to keep himself from breaking apart. He looked like he had lost it—no, not just lost it. He had snapped.

“What’s wrong, little prince?” I said, my voice dripping with mockery, a wicked grin spreading across my lips. “The white boy love this petite Asian girl, huh?” I taunted, my tone light, playful, like this was all a game. I could see the way my words got under his skin, the way his fists clenched, and it only made me want to push him further. “May I make an observation? Just a wild guess,” I continued, my voice smooth and teasing, knowing full well I was playing with fire. “I think you like me… or wait… I think you’re obsessed with me.”

I laughed, a loud, ringing sound that echoed through the empty room. I could see the anger flaring in his eyes, and it was intoxicating. He wanted so badly to be in control, to prove he was stronger, but I wasn’t going to give that to him. Not ever.

“Shut up,” he snarled, his voice harsh and unsteady. He took a step forward, his hand tightening around the remote to the collar. “You’re on my hand now! You think you can still talk back?” He pressed a button, and the collar tightened, dragging me down until I was forced to my knees in front of him. I could feel the electricity buzzing, just enough to make my skin prickle, a constant, painful reminder of the control he had.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rebecca, tied up, her eyes wide with fear. She was struggling against her bindings, but I could tell she was just as helpless as I was. My heart twisted, but I didn’t let it show. I had to keep my head clear, had to keep pushing, even if it meant pushing Rudy further over the edge.

Rudy’s eyes were wild, his lips twisted into a cruel smile as he loomed over me. “I will enjoy you right here, in front of your little girlfriend,” he said, his voice low and menacing, but there was something desperate about it, something that made him seem less like a prince and more like a cornered animal. “You need a man, Silla, and I’ll show you. I’ll show you I’M RUDETH MAYBANK, PRINCE OF THE WOLVES, AND A REAL MAN.” He leaned down, grabbing my chin roughly, forcing me to look up at him. “Now suck my dick!” he spat, the words dripping with venom, his eyes dark and dangerous.

He grabbed the remote, his thumb hovering over the button, his grin widening as he whispered, “Worship me, you bitch.” He was shaking, his whole body vibrating with this frenzied, unstable energy, like he was on the verge of exploding.

But before he could do anything, the door swung open, and Alexander Maybank stepped in, his presence commanding, his eyes sweeping over the scene with a cold, amused smile. “Good,” he said, his tone casual, almost bored, like this was all just another business transaction. “I am a bit disappointed that girl managed to kidnap you, but this… this is better. You’ll be just like me, Rudy.” He laughed, a dark, chilling sound, like a king watching his heir take his first steps toward cruelty.

I looked up at Alexander, my lip curling into a sneer, and even though I was still on my knees, even though I was the one in chains, I felt a spark of triumph. “Yeah?” I said, my voice steady, loud enough for both of them to hear. “He cried your name when I kicked his fuckin' stupid, ugly balls. He cried like a little boy.”

The room went still, the air thick with tension. I could see Rudy’s face twitch, his jaw tightening, his eyes flaring with rage. For a moment, I thought he might hit me, that he might actually lose control and lash out, and I could see how much he hated me for saying it, for reminding him of how easily I’d brought him down.

“Shut up!” he shouted, his voice cracking, his hand trembling around the remote. I could see it—how he was trying so hard to be strong, to be what his father wanted him to be, but my words cut deep, and he couldn’t hide it. His face twisted into a mask of pure fury, and he looked like he was barely holding back from tearing me apart right there.

“Come on, Rudy,” I said, still taunting, my voice low and mocking, even as the collar bit into my neck. “Is that really what makes you a real man? Torturing a girl on her knees? Pathetic.”

I could see his hands shaking, his eyes wide, and there was a flash of something in them—something that looked almost like hurt. But then it was gone, replaced by cold, burning rage. This was it. The moment he chose. And I could see it in his eyes, the way he hardened, the way he stepped into his father’s shadow, letting the darkness swallow him whole.

 

Rudy POV

I could feel the rage burning through me, like fire eating me alive from the inside out. My hands trembled, clutching the remote to Silla’s collar, but it wasn’t enough. I needed more than control. I needed to break her, to make her understand that she couldn’t win. She was standing there, smiling at me, mocking me, and it was driving me insane. I could feel my father’s eyes on me, watching, waiting to see if I’d live up to his expectations, and I knew I had to prove myself. This was my moment.

“You don’t get it, do you?” I snarled, stepping closer, my voice echoing through the empty room. “You’re just a girl—a weak, pathetic girl who thinks she can stand up to me. But you’re nothing, Silla. Nothing.” I could see her eyes narrow, but I didn’t care. I had to say this, had to get it out, even if it was the last thing I did.

She didn’t back down. She never did. That was the worst part. She just kept standing there, staring at me, daring me to say more, to do more. I could feel my heart pounding, my blood roaring in my ears, and I kept going, even though I knew it was pushing me to the edge. “Men are stronger. Men are smarter. Men are the ones who lead, who build, who dominate. You can’t change that, no matter how much you fight, no matter how much you scream. You’re inferior, and that’s just how it is.”

I could feel the words pouring out of me, and it felt like I was releasing something that had been coiled up inside me for a long, long time. “This world is run by men, and it will always be run by men. We thrive because we’re strong, because we’re powerful, and you’re just… here. You don’t belong, Silla. You never did.” I was shouting now, my voice shaking, and I could see the satisfaction in my father’s eyes, the way he nodded approvingly, and that only made me angrier. I needed to make her see it, to understand that she couldn’t beat me.

But Silla just tilted her head, that infuriating smirk never leaving her lips. “But you were crying when I kicked your sorry fuckin’ balls, weren’t you?” she said, her tone light, almost casual. It was like she was swatting away my words like they were nothing, and it drove me insane. “How’s that for strength?”

I felt the blood rush to my face, hot and angry, my hands clenching so hard around the remote that I thought it might snap in half. “Testicles are a man’s source of power,” I spat, the words coming out fast and desperate. “They pump testosterone, they make us strong, they’re what make us men. You wouldn’t understand that because you don’t have it. You don’t have what it takes to be strong, to lead, to be in control.”

I stepped closer, my chest heaving, trying to tower over her, to make her see that I wasn’t going to let her get away with this. But she just stood there, calm, collected, and then she did the one thing that made my whole body freeze up—she leaned forward, her body moving closer, her eyes locked onto mine.

I panicked. I couldn’t help it. My hands went straight to my groin, clutching it protectively, the memory of her last attack still vivid, still raw. “DAD!” I shouted, my voice cracking, filled with a terror I couldn’t hide. “SHE WANTS TO KICK ME!”

The room was silent for a moment, and then Silla laughed. She laughed, loud and clear, like this was all some kind of sick joke. “Oh, little prince,” she said, her voice dripping with mockery, and I felt my skin crawl. “You’re still scared of me, aren’t you? All that talk about strength, and you’re still afraid I’m going to drop you like last time. How pathetic.”

I could feel my father’s eyes on me, the disappointment starting to creep into his expression, and it only made my rage worse. I wanted to scream, to hit her, to make her shut up, but she just kept going, kept poking at me, tearing me down.

“You’re nothing, little prince,” she said, her voice soft but cutting, like a blade sliding between my ribs. “Just a daddy’s little boy, clutching at his toys, thinking he’s all grown up. But you’re going to lose your kingdom soon. I can see it, and it’s going to be glorious.”

And then I heard it. The sound of footsteps, the clattering of boots echoing through the hallways, and I realized, with a sickening lurch, what was happening. The doors burst open, and I saw them—dozens of women, armed and ready, storming into the main hub. The Angels. Silla’s gang, her sisters, her army, charging in like a tidal wave, sweeping over the place, and I felt my stomach drop.

“No…” I whispered, my voice barely audible, my mind reeling. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

I looked around, trying to make sense of it, but everywhere I looked, there were women taking down my guards, overpowering them, pushing forward. I could see the shock on their faces, the way they struggled to keep up, but they were losing, and they were losing fast.

Silla was still in front of me, still smiling, and there was this light in her eyes, this confidence that made me want to scream. “You’re not in control anymore, Rudy,” she said, her voice almost gentle, like she was explaining something to a child. “You never really were.”

I felt the panic rising in my chest, choking me, and I turned to my father, desperate, hoping he’d have a plan, a way to turn this around, but he just stood there, his expression unreadable. I wanted to shout, to tell him to do something, but the words wouldn’t come. I was frozen, watching as everything slipped out of my grasp, as everything I thought I controlled crumbled around me.

 

Silla POV

I saw one by one, The Angels showed up, like a force of nature. These weren’t just any girls — they were ready for a fight. Angela, Rebecca, and the others were fierce, eyes sharp and determined. One of them spotted my collar neck and cuffs, grabbed a key from nearby, and quickly set me free. I took the key, unlocked Rebecca’s restraints, and she looked up at me, relief flooding her face.

“You’ll always save me,” she whispered, her smile soft yet strong.

I nodded, but my expression was serious. “Just go to a safe place. I need to settle something.”

My eyes darted across the room, landing on Rudy, who was standing beside his dad, Alexander. The Maybank men, father and son, thought they had control, but they were about to learn the hard way. I watched as a few of the girls closed in on them, ready to strike. Angela stepped toward me, her lips pressed into a thin, furious line.

“Do you know how many codes you violated when you pulled this stunt?” Angela’s voice was sharp, but her eyes flickered with approval. “But thank you for reminding me that anytime, anyplace, women can beat men. And now…” She turned her gaze toward Rudy and Alexander. “Let’s take  this father-son duo. Those white men will crumble.”

I had to admit, Rudy was fighting back with everything he had. He was swinging wildly, trying to push the girls off, but then Angela made her move, targeting Alexander. That was all it took — Rudy’s concentration snapped. He turned, distracted, and that was my moment.

I ran, mustering all the anger and adrenaline coursing through my veins. I tackled Rudy, shoving him back toward the stage. My arms wrapped around his body like a vice, pinning him against me. He struggled, but I wasn’t about to let go.

Rudy’s hand reached down, searching desperately for his gun, but his eyes widened when he realized it wasn’t there. I smirked, raising the weapon just enough for him to see it.

“Don’t you ever learn?” I taunted, and he glared at me, sweat beading on his forehead. I turned to Angela, who was already watching with a knowing grin. “Get this,” I said, tossing the gun to her. “I want to do it the traditional way.”

Angela nodded, her eyes gleaming. “Go for it.”

I stepped back, just enough to give myself space, then swung my fist upward, smashing it into Rudy’s groin. Crack. His eyes bulged, and his face contorted in agony. “AAAAAAAAGHHHHH!” The scream that ripped from his throat was rawHe doubled over, clutching at himself, his knees trembling as he tried to stay upright. But he couldn’t.

His mouth opened, gasping for air, and he stared at me, as if trying to process what just happened. Tears welled up in his eyes, and his breathing was ragged, shallow. For a second, I almost felt a shred of pity, but then I remembered everything he’d done — all the sneering, all the threats. That pity vanished faster than his composure.

“You love stripper poles?” I snarled, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. “Let me give you a taste.” I dragged him, yanking his legs apart, forcing them into a wide V-shape. He tried to resist, but he was too weak, still reeling from the first blow. I hauled him to the pole, slamming it into his groin.

Thud.

Rudy’s mouth opened in a silent scream, his head snapping back as he collapsed, arms flailing helplessly. He hit the ground, curling up into a fetal position, hands cradling his battered crotch, whimpering like a child. His face was red, streaked with sweat and tears, and he just lay there, rocking slightly, as if hoping the pain would magically disappear.

“Not so tough now, are you?” I leaned down, my face inches from his, my voice dripping with mock sympathy. “This is what happens when you mess with me. Remember that.”

 

Rudy POV

The pain was like nothing I’d ever felt before, radiating from my groin, spreading through my whole body. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. It was like a fire, burning me alive from the inside out, and I couldn’t escape it. “WHY! WHY THE PAIN! MY BALLS!” I screamed, my voice cracking, barely more than a desperate, guttural wail. I could feel the tears streaming down my face, mixing with the sweat, and I was shaking, my whole body trembling uncontrollably.

I tried to crawl, my hands scraping against the cold, dirty floor, my knees buckling beneath me. “DAD!” I cried out, my voice hoarse, pleading, like a little boy who just wanted his father to make everything right. I wanted to get to him, to find some kind of comfort, some kind of strength, but everything was falling apart. I looked up, and through my blurry vision, I saw my father—Alexander Maybank, the man who had taught me everything I knew, the man who had made me the prince of The Wolves. He was standing there, still trying to fight, still trying to shoot at the Angels who had stormed our den, his face twisted with rage.

But then Angela, the leader of The Angels, appeared out of nowhere. She moved with this fierce, precise grace, and before my father could even react, she kicked the gun out of his hand. It clattered to the floor, useless. He stumbled back, and I could see the fear in his eyes, the same fear I felt crawling up my spine, paralyzing me.

“Dad… no…” I whispered, but my voice was too weak, too broken.

And then Angela did it. She raised a crossbow, and for a moment, everything seemed to slow down, like the world was holding its breath. I watched in horror as she aimed, her eyes cold, unyielding, and then she fired. The arrow sliced through the air, a silent, deadly strike, and hit my father square between the legs.

The scream that came out of him was inhuman, a sound I’d never heard from him before, and I could barely process what I was seeing. Blood sprayed, and he crumpled to the ground, clutching at his groin, writhing, his face contorted in agony. Angela stepped forward, calm, methodical, and with one swift, brutal motion, she finished what she had started. She castrated him, severing everything, and it was like watching a nightmare unfold.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! DADDDDDDD!” I screamed, my voice echoing through the room, but it felt like it was coming from somewhere else, like I was detached from my own body. I was shaking, sobbing, unable to look away. I saw the horror in vivid detail—my father’s eyes wide, his mouth open in a silent scream, his hands slick with blood, and then... Angela held it up. His manhood. My father’s dick, lifeless and bloody, dangling from her hand like some grotesque trophy.

Flashes of memories bombarded me, one after another, blurring together. I remembered him standing tall, looking down at me, his hand firm on my shoulder. “You’re going to be the next leader, Rudy,” he’d said, his voice deep, authoritative. “Men are strong. Men rule. It’s in our blood. And you will carry on that strength.”

But that image shattered, replaced by the sight of him on the floor, reduced to a sniveling, broken mess, just like me. He wasn’t strong. He wasn’t invincible. He was... defeated. And his strength, his power, the thing he had always boasted about, was in the hands of a woman, torn away from him like it was nothing.

I felt myself crumbling, my legs giving out beneath me. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but scream and sob. I was hysterical, my mind reeling, unable to comprehend what I was seeing. “Dad…” I whispered, but he couldn’t hear me. He was lost, and so was I.

Suddenly, I felt a sharp, searing pain, and I doubled over, gasping. I looked down and saw Silla’s boot, pressing into my groin, grinding down, and I screamed again, the sound raw, animalistic. She wasn’t gentle. She didn’t care. She just stomped, and the pain was blinding, sending waves of agony through my whole body. I could feel my vision blurring, the room spinning, but I could still see her, smirking, her eyes bright with this cold, triumphant satisfaction.

She stepped over me, pressing down harder, and I collapsed onto my back, wheezing, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. “Look at you,” she said, her voice dripping with mockery. “The prince of The Wolves, reduced to this. You’re nothing, Rudy. Just a scared little boy, clutching at whatever scraps of power you think you have left.”

She climbed on top of me, straddling my stomach, pinning me down, and I could barely move, barely even think through the haze of pain and humiliation. I wanted to fight back, to push her off, but my hands were trembling, weak, useless. I looked up at her, tears streaming down my face, and I knew... I was lost. I was done.

Men had lost. I had lost.

I could feel the warm, wet sensation spreading, and I realized with a sickening jolt that I was peeing myself. The humiliation burned, and I wanted to curl up, to hide, but I couldn’t. I just lay there, sobbing, my body shaking as the last bits of my dignity slipped away.

Silla looked down, and then she laughed, a loud, mocking laugh that filled the room, echoing off the walls. “Look at that,” she said, pointing at the wet patch spreading across my jeans. “The big, bad prince of The Wolves, pissing himself like a scared little puppy.” I heard more laughter, the women of The Angels joining in, their voices mixing together, a chorus of mockery and scorn. I wanted to disappear, to melt into the floor, but there was no escape.

She reached down, her hand wrapping around my balls, and squeezed. I screamed, the pain sharp and immediate, my whole body jerking, but I couldn’t pull away. “Please,” I gasped, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Silla… I… love you,” I said, my words desperate, slurred with pain. “I’m sorry. It was my dad’s influence… Please… you see… our night in the motel… you love me.”

She looked at me, and for a moment, I thought I saw something soften in her eyes. But then her expression hardened, and she let out a cold, humorless laugh. “You don’t know what love is, Rudy,” she said, her voice low, icy. “You think because I spent one night with you that it means anything? You don’t understand a damn thing.”

She reached for her knife, the blade glinting in the dim light, and brought it down, pressing it against my crotch. I could feel the cold metal through my jeans, and the terror surged up, choking me, making it hard to breathe. My heart pounded, my mind screaming, and I felt my whole body tense, every muscle locking up in pure, animalistic fear.

“Silla… please,” I whispered, my voice trembling, the words tumbling out in a frantic rush. “Don’t… I’m begging you, please…” I could barely see through the tears, but I could see her face, calm, focused, like she was doing nothing more than cutting through paper. I knew then that she wasn’t bluffing, that she had no reason to hold back, and the realization made me feel small, powerless, like I was a child again, begging for mercy.

The blade pressed harder, and I felt the tip start to cut through the fabric, closer, closer to the skin, and I couldn’t hold it back anymore.

Silla POV

I could feel the knife in my hand, the cold steel pressing against the fabric of his jeans, just a little more pressure and it would cut through. Rudy was trembling, his whole body shaking beneath me, his eyes wide and filled with terror. I could see the tears streaming down his cheeks, his lips quivering as he whispered desperate pleas, begging me not to do it. It would’ve been so easy to end it right there, to strip him of everything he thought made him a man, to break him completely.

I leaned in, close enough that my lips brushed against his ear, and I could feel him flinch. I could hear his ragged, shallow breaths, the way his heart pounded under my hand, but then, at the last second, I pulled back. I let out a slow breath, feeling the tension drain out of me, and I dropped the knife. It clattered to the floor, echoing in the silence, and I saw the confusion flicker in Rudy’s eyes.

“You saved my life once,” I said, my voice low, almost a whisper. “And I’ll always remember that. A life for a life. But then I thought about it, and I realized—your manhood is your life, isn’t it, Rudy?” I leaned in closer, my lips brushing against his ear, feeling the way he shuddered beneath me. “Rudeth Maybank, that was a fun two days. I won’t forget it, but I guess… it’s time to move on to the future.”

I pulled back, looking him in the eye, and I saw the confusion there, the fear, the desperation. “The future where you’ll be my domestic pet,” I said, my smile widening, my tone playful but cold. “Do you take the deal, Rudy?” I could see the conflict in his eyes, the way he fought it, but there was no fight left in him. He was broken, beaten, and he knew it.

Tears welled up, spilling down his cheeks, and he nodded, his head bobbing up and down, quick, frantic. “Yes,” he choked out, his voice barely more than a whimper. “Yes, I’ll… I’ll do it.”

I smiled, a slow, satisfied smile, and I leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, like I was sealing the deal. “Good boy,” I whispered, my tone almost sweet, like I was praising a pet. “That’s what I thought.”

I got up off him, still keeping my foot pressed lightly against his chest, and then I saw Rebecca standing nearby. Her eyes met mine, and there was this shared understanding between us, a bond that went beyond words. I moved toward her, and she stepped closer, and then, right there, on top of Rudy’s pathetic, trembling body, I kissed her.

It was soft, tender, and when I pulled back, I could see the warmth in her eyes, the way she smiled at me, and it felt like everything else faded away, leaving just the two of us. We were free, together, and no one could take that from us.

I looked down at Rudy, still sprawled on the ground, his face streaked with tears, his eyes dull and defeated. “You see, Rudy,” I said, my voice light, almost cheerful, “the future belongs to those who are willing to fight for it. And you? You’re just a sad, scared little boy, holding onto a world that’s already gone.”

Rebecca stepped forward, and together, we stomped down on him, pushing him into the ground, making sure he knew exactly where he stood now—beneath us. I could hear him gasp, a pained, broken sound, and I felt a twisted kind of satisfaction.

This was the end for him, the end of everything he thought he controlled, everything he thought he could own. And for me, for Rebecca, it was the beginning. We stood over him, looking down, and I felt this calm, powerful sense of closure, like everything had finally clicked into place.

The Angels had taken the hub, had won the fight, and now we were free to carve out the future we wanted, a future where men like Rudy and his father couldn’t control us, couldn’t hurt us. The Wolves were finished, their legacy nothing but ashes and blood on the ground, and there was no one left to stand in our way.

I bent down one last time, my hand caressing Rudy’s cheek, my smile cold and sharp. “It’s over, Rudy,” I said, my voice soft, almost tender. “And you’ll remember this. Every time you look in the mirror, every time you think about trying to crawl your way back up, you’ll remember who put you down here. You’ll remember who owns you.”

I straightened up, turning to Rebecca, and we walked away, leaving him there, broken and alone. We had a future to build, and nothing was going to stop us now. The Angels had risen, and the Wolves? They were just a memory, a warning to anyone who thought they could ever put us back in chain

 

 

 

 

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Comments

  1. Wow, that was a great story. Deep, touching & thrilling.

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