The Road To Hell

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, ENJOY!



ANGEL'S POV



I woke up the next day in the afternoon. I sat up, groggy and my vision blurred, but when it came in to focus, I saw Pogo laying next to me.



What the fuck?



I shook him gently. "Pogo....Pogo, wake up", I said softly.



He groaned and opened his eyes. "Good morning, Angel", he said stretching.



"Um, what are you doing in my bed?", I asked.



He chuckled, and sat up. "You ended up getting really fucked up last night. After I left the bedroom, I ended up staying and sleeping on the couch. But soon after I left your room you went in the kitchen, got drunk, got high, then blacked out on the floor, so I helped you in bed and stayed in here with you", he responded.



I remember now. "Oh yeah", I murmured.



"Now, why exactly are we up so early?", Pogo asked, laying back again and closing his eyes.



"Early? It's 2 in the afternoon", I giggled.



"Well when you feel this shitty, it's early", he replied, rubbing his bald, shiny head.



"Aw, you poor thing", I said, leaning over and kissing his head. I do know what he means, I have a killer hangover right now as well.



He pulled me on top of him, holding me to him tight, then rolled us so that he was on top of me, between my legs. I was having a laughing fit, when he got a serious look on his face and rubbed his thumb across my lips. Just then, my phone began ringing loudly, causing us both to jump.



I reached for my phone on the nightstand. "It's Manson", I told Pogo, causing him to groan and roll off of me. He looked annoyed as he stared up at the ceiling.



"Hey, baby", I answered.



"Why the hell haven't you been answering your goddamned phone", he asked, angrily.



"I have been sleeping, love", I replied, as sweetly as possible.



"Why?!", he boomed. "Did you fucking get high or drink again, because if you did, I swear to God....", his voice trailed off, and I spoke up again quickly.



"No, of course not. I just don't feel too good, I think I'm sick", I lied smoothly.



"Okay....I trust you, sweetheart. I love you, my angel", he said. That hurt. He trusts me and I'm lying to his face....sort of.



"I love you too, babe", I replied, quietly.



"Well I'm sorry I woke you, darling, go back to sleep. Feel better.", he said then blew me a kiss through the phone. With that I hung up, feeling guilty and low.



"Someone's a naughty girl", Pogo cooed.



"Yeah, yeah....", I said, getting up from the bed.



"Where are you going?", Pogo asked.



"I'm going to shower", I called to him, rooting through the closet for something to wear.



He got out of bed and followed me over to the closet. "Wear this", he said, pulling out one of the skimpiest dresses I owned.



"This is an outfit I wore to work when I was stripping", I laughed.



Pogo shrugged. "It looks nice", he replied.



I took the dress, still laughing and began to walked to the bathroom attached to mine and Manson's bedroom. I shut the door and began undressing quickly.



When I stepped in the shower, I heard a loud knock on the door.



"I'm going to go home so I can shower and change clothes too, but I will be back", Pogo said.



"Uh, okay", I yelled out, then heard his boots stomping away from the door.



After I showered and got dressed, I immediately rushed to get high. Right as I was going in to snort my lines, Pogo walked through the door.



"Don't do any lines yet, I have something else I want you to try", he spoke loudly, walking into the kitchen just to come back a moment later with a spoon.



I watched him, puzzled, as he bent the spoon with ease, then proceeded to place an 8 ball of heroine in it. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a needle and lighter.



"Do you have a piece of cloth or something?", Pogo asked as he lit a lighter underneath the spoon and the contents began to melt and bubble.



"Uh, yeah", I said, snapping back to reality and left the room to mine and Manson's bedroom and retrieved a black bandanna.



I handed him the bandanna as he sat the spoon on the coffee table and held the needle in the liquid, extracting the contents.



"Give me your arm", Pogo said gently, to which I hesitantly complied. In a flash the bandanna was wrapped around my arm right above my elbow and Pogo gently rubbed his finger over the inside of the bend of my elbow, watching a bulging vein.



He slowly stuck the needle in and flushed the heroine into me. As he injected its contents, a reddish-purple line trailed down my forearm.



"Holy shit, what the fuck is this?", I asked, frantically, rubbing my arm, as if it would magically disappear.



"Oh my God, Manson is going to see this and then he will know....Fuck, fuck, fuck", I repeated until a veil of pleasure enveloped my body.



Pogo began smirking at my sudden mood change. "Just relax", he said as my vision became slightly blurry.



I erupted in a fit of laughter. "Wait, I can't feel my body", I laughed rubbing my face.



Pogo began laughing as well, and then injected himself with the contents of the needle.



"I'm so numb, I feel like I'm floating", I said, slapping my own face progressively harder.



I stood up and began running around the living room, envisioning it to be a beautiful meadow with the warm sun on my face.



"My body feels so warm and free....this is the best thing I've ever felt in my fucking life", I screamed, running faster.



Pogo was sort of flopping around on the floor and giggling with his eyes rolling into the back of his head. "This is my first time doing it too....Where has this been all my life?", he slurred out, laughing louder.



I must have ran nonstop for an hour, until finally my legs gave out on me and I fell to the floor on my face with a loud thud, my nose began gushing blood.



"I never want to come down from this high", I said, turning to face Pogo.



"Oh shit, you still have the needle in your arm", I giggled, then ripped it out for him, roughly, causing a tearing sound followed by a stream of blood.



"Oh, your arm, I'm sorry", I slurred.



"It's fine, I don't fucking feel a thing", Pogo laughed, drool oozing from his mouth.



I don't think there's a high out there that compares to heroine. This is exactly what I always needed, especially now more than ever. I feel completely void, my soul is free. I mean, why WOULDN'T someone be doing this amazing drug? I laid back with Pogo, lifting my hand in a floating motion, back and forth, watching everything in its beautiful radiance. I was finally at peace.



***********************************



Pogo stayed with me the rest of the week. We were didn't sleep for days on our heroine drug binge, but last night we quit because Manson would be returning later today.



I feel as if I were hit by a bus, and my arm is covered in track marks. How the fuck am I going to cover this shit? I guess with makeup and long sleeve shirts.



But that was only a solution to one of my problems, the other being me already beginning to go through withdrawals. And these made my cocaine withdrawals look pathetic.



I was irritated, had dark circles under my eyes, and the clawing at my body turned into me clawing and ripping at my face, and pulling my hair out.



I envied Pogo, that he could go home and do as much drugs as he wanted. That he could shoot up without being reprimanded and without consequence. I mean, heroine felt better than an orgasm.



"I'm going to go home, Manson will be here in about an hour. But when he leaves again in a couple of weeks, shall I come back to stay and we can pick up where we left off?", Pogo asked as he watched me apply makeup to my arms.



"Yes, definitely. This is going to be a rough two weeks", I replied.



Pogo smirked and kissed my cheek, then without another word, walked out the door.



"Oh my God, I need it so fucking bad!", I screamed aloud, slamming my makeup down.



I pulled my hair and rocked back and forth as another withdrawal coursed through my drug addled body.



When the craving passed, I realized I was pouring sweat and had clots of hair clutched in my hands.



"Okay, just one line of cocaine and I will be okay", I told myself as I quickly prepared the line for myself. It will help my not be so antsy when Manson comes home so he won't suspect anything, and I won't be too high. One line of cocaine is child's play to me now.



Just as I finished, and leaned my head back, I saw headlights through the window and a car getting closer. "Fuck", I mumbled as I quickly shoved the bag of cocaine under the couch and dusted away the powdery residue from the coffee table.



A moment later I heard his footsteps coming closer to the door, then it swinging open to reveal an exhausted looking Manson as he cussed under his breath.



His frustration washed away from his face as soon as he saw me and he smiled widely.



Manson ran over to me and pulled me to him tightly. "Fuck, I missed you, my love", he said as he swung me around in a circle.



He sat me down, but kept his arms around me. "Goddamn, you look like hell, baby. You must have been pretty sick", he said holding his hand to my clammy forehead.



"Thanks", I replied sarcastically, pulling away from him.



"You know what I mean, babe", Manson said, pulling me back close to him and lifting my face to capture my lips with his.



His hands began to roam my body and his lips grew increasingly eager, despite my protests and trying to shoo his hands away.



He shoved his tongue deeper down my throat and moaned as he ground his hardness against me, so I finally shoved him off roughly.



"Keep it in your fucking pants, Manson", I grumbled, walking away to our bedroom.



He followed close behind me, confused.



I felt guilty denying him, but I sort of blamed him for getting me pregnant and for me having to have an abortion....And I couldn't even fuck him now if I wanted to because I had to wait two weeks.



"What's wrong?", Manson huffed. "Are you mad because I said you looked like hell? I mean, you're still beautiful, I can just tell you were sick", Manson said, stumbling over his words, thinking he was in trouble for that.



It was slightly funny watching his desperation to smooth things over so he could get laid, and when I cracked a smile he took that to mean I wanted his tongue shoved down my throat again and laid me on the bed.



"Manson, stop, I'm on my period and really don't feel like it", I said.



"When has that ever stopped us? Besides, I would even fucking shove my tongue so goddamn deep in your pussy and eat you out while you're on your period", Manson said shrugging.



"Please, I need you so bad, I haven't had you or have even tasted you in a week. Are you going to deny your sex God?...at least just let me touch you while I jack off....please", he pleaded pathetically.



I let him. He ripped his clothes off quickly, then began smothering me with kisses, trailing them down my neck, to my chest, all over my tits, down my stomach, lower and lower until he reached my pussy. He smirked up at me and tore my pants and panties off, he spread my moistened lips and was going to bury his tongue in my pussy, when I reached down and grabbed his face. "Don't", I said quietly.



A look of disappointment flashed over his face as he brushed past my pussy and began kissing the insides of my thighs and kept going until he was at my feet, and gently caressed and sucked my toes.



I laid there, unresponsive, staring up at the ceiling, I just wasn't in to this right now. But when Manson stopped, I looked down at him and he looked as if his feelings were hurt and was beginning to lose his erection, so I decided not to bring him down with me and began faking it.



But it was too late, Manson got up and laid next to me not making eye contact, and I knew he felt dejected from me not even moaning out once at all the attention he was giving my body.



"What's wrong?", he asked caressing my face.



"Nothing....Keep going", I replied, shakily.



"Please, tell me what's wrong", Manson asked in a concerned filled voice, taking my hand in his.



"Nothing, daddy", I cooed out, trying to arouse him again then pulled him against my naked body and began kissing him.



He seemed hesitant, but his male hormones must have overridden any logic in him, because he began kissing me, full of need, once again then began stroking himself.



"Suck my dick, Angel", Manson said breathlessly, breaking the kiss.



I went to position myself between his legs, but he stopped me.



"69", he said simply.



"But I told you I didn't want you eating me out right now", I replied.



"I won't....Unless you change your mind....I just want to touch you and see that pretty little pussy of yours", Manson said, winking.



I positioned myself over his face, then leaned over so that I could take him in my mouth.



I lapped at the salty pre-cum that oozed from his slit, then took all of his length down my throat.



He moaned loudly and spread my pussy open, gently rubbing his finger over my hole.



I let out small fake moans as I hollowed my cheeks and sucked him harder, hoping he would cum soon.



He continued rubbing me as he groaned loudly, then hissed and pulled me away from his dick.



"Let me fuck you in the ass", he gasped out, not really waiting on my answer as he flipped me over and aligned himself with my asshole.



He rubbed the spit from his cock on my ass then thrust inside of me.



I gripped the sheets tightly, and matched his thrusts as he pounded into me, even though I was deriving no pleasure from this, I continued to moan out for him.



"Fuck, your ass is so damn tight!", he screamed out and reached his hand under me to begin massaging my clit.



"Yes, daddy, fuck my ass harder", I moaned, knowing he would find it odd if I didn't add any commentary while he fucked me.



"Do you like having daddy ripping your asshole open making you bleed like a dirty little whore?", he groaned.



"Yes! Hurt me! Make me bleed!", I cried out.



Manson rocked his hips side to side and squeezed my ass hard, digging his nails in.



"I'm fucking cumming, take my cum up your fucking ass, whore!", Manson screamed, then I felt him empty himself inside of me.



That was the first time in awhile Manson called me a whore while he was fucking me....If it weren't for the situation, I would have loved it and the whole blood play thing he's into. Nothing would turn me on more than him eating me out as I bled in his mouth, but this was different.



Manson fell back on the bed and pulled me with him, forcing me to lay on his chest.



"I love you so goddamned much, Angel", he said.



"I love you, too, Manson", I replied and kissed his chest.



After awhile I heard him snoring loudly and pulled away from his chest.



His hand that was draped around me was covered in blood. Abortion blood. It made me cringe and gag.



His entire body had traces of blood somewhere on it as well as mine, and the sheets were wet with blood.



I quietly and carefully pulled away from him and crept into the hall bathroom to take a bath.



As I ran the water, a familiar craving flowed through me....And this time I HAD to have it. And Manson would be knocked out for the night and never know.



I crept into the living room and retrieved the needle, spoon, and drugs Pogo left for me and quickly ran inside the bathroom.



I stripped my clothes off and settled in the water, then began imitating what Pogo did with the drugs earlier.



I wrapped my forearm and quickly plunged the needle through my vein and pushed out the heroine.



Relief and pleasure coursed through me almost instantly, and I slid back in the tub and allowed my face and body to dunk underwater.



Take the pain away....