Driving Home

Missy Mitchell


Rated: 2.00 of 5 stars
2.00 ·
[?] · 1 ratings · Published: 15 May 2015

Driving Home by Missy Mitchell
“Get up!” he yelled at her. “I would never do that. I would never treat you like that...” Slowly, nervously she began to lift her head, although her trembling hadn’t ceased. “I respect women... I respect you – I have more respect for you than you have for yourself!”
As she slowly peeled herself up from the bonnet, the event started to sort itself out in Benedicta’s head and she became aware of the game he was playing. She stood tall and rigid... He had never intended having sex with her... He just wanted to scare her and humiliate her and teach her some kind of lesson..! Benedicta flung her head around and glared abhorrently at him through the angriest of cats’ eyes and Darcy swore their evil glowed in the dark. “How daaaaaaare you..!” Her display was impressive and the corners of his mouth threatened to turn upwards in a smile – my, but did she look spectacular...
“What..? Didn’t the spoiled brat get what she wanted?” Darcy questioned the motives of her fury and she gasped in disbelief before raising and shaking her finger, ready to tear shreds of him. “You know... If you act like trash you will be treated like trash... You must stop putting yourself in these dangerous situations...or one day...”
“How dare you, you rude, impertinent...”
Darcy raised his voice to speak over her, “...Or one day one of your pigs are going to eat you up like slop in a trough, and there will be no one around to save your stupid little backside.”
“You cannot speak to me this way...” she insisted. Darcy William was forgetting who he was... Who she was..!
“Somebody has to...” Darcy stated, strong in his foundations.
“My Daddy did not raise me to be spoke...”
“Your Daddy didn’t raise you... Period!”
“I hate you!” she screamed at him, now completely out of control, shaking and clenching her fists by her side.
“I hate you, too...” Darcy told her, with just enough spite to release a little of the rumbling pressure from the precarious valve.
“You’re fiiiiiired!” she yelled at the very top of her lungs, her eyes tearing with anger.
“You’re firing me..? For not having sex with you on the side of the road like a whore..?” Darcy queried her, beginning to rile up himself. Stupid fool, she was...
“I want you out of my employ...” Benedicta screamed at him.
Darcy snapped, “Fine...” he shouted and he retrieved the keys from his pocket and pegged them at the passenger side window, missing Benedicta by inches, before grabbing his belongings from the vehicle and storming off.
Benedicta watched him and suddenly she panicked – she was stuck! “Wait!” she yelled after him, “You can’t just leave me here...” but Darcy didn’t reply. Then like she was having a tantrum she stamped and yelled even louder, “You can’t leave me here..!”
“Of course I can... You’ve got the keys... Drive yourself home,” Darcy shouted at her.
Benedicta picked up the keys and trotted after him, “I don’t know how to drive...”
Darcy snickered, still as angry as hell at her, “That’s not my problem...” Ridiculous woman...
“Well, you can’t just leave me out here all by myself?” Benedicta protested but Darcy just ignored her and kept walking. “Stop!” she screamed, bursting into tears.
Her behaviour was completely inappropriate and Darcy had had enough of her dramas and tantrums and crocodile tears... “Rack off!” he told her.
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