SDT Bonus Content

chapter 1 from Castella's pov

This is Chapter 1 of SDT (Pep's escape) but from the matador's POV. Hope you enjoy 🤣

I stood in the ring with my sword at the ready. I took off my hat, bowed, and gazed at my thousands of adoring fans, thinking lovingly of my artistry, my grace and my superb mastery of the bull. Who else could compare to this?

Nobody.

I was the greatest matador in history.

That's what they would say about me - and most of them already did. I held out my cape and waited for the bull to charge at me. His strength had been sapped. There was blood dripping down his back and he was panting and looking at me helplessly.

Some people called this cruel, but not me, I thought happily, smiling to myself and waving to the crowd as I prepared for the suerte suprema. I was an artist and my sword was my brush. The sun was smiling on me. The special shipment from Colombia I'd been partaking of was helping me reach the height of my talents - not that I was ever anywhere else.

'Come on, toro, why don't you want to charge,' I said, clicking my tongue and trying to attract the bull's attention as he stood in the sand and stared at me sadly. Sometimes they did this. The bull gazed at me miserably as I leaned forward and shouted at him. He was panting. He wanted this. He wanted the end as much as I did. Then the next bull would come out and the beautiful dance of man and beast would begin again. There could only be one winner today - me. 

But then the bull turned around. He turned his back on me. Such outrageous disrespect. How dare he do that? I was enraged. The crowd started to boo - for a second, I was terrified they were booing me, not the bull. But no. It was fine. 

'Don't do that,' I snarled as my assistants tried to attract the bull's attention back to me. I would not tolerate this behaviour. Nobody turned their back on me - especially not a bull. The bull ran towards the stands and I screeched in rage as it jumped into the audience. I'd have something to say to its breeders and they'd listen if they knew what was good for them. At a convenient moment I'd call up my guys and sort out a suitable punishment for the farmer who bred him. 

He humiliated me and he'd pay the price. 

Nobody fucked with me like that.

Horrified, I gasped in fury as the bull leapt up the steps. It was meant to be tired out, so how was it doing that - and why? Yet it couldn't be bothered to summon the energy to charge at me? I was relieved that the spectators were trying to stop it, so that my show could go on - but the way they were treating it, one of them could break the record I was so proud of. 

My record of personally killing every bull I'd ever faced, 1500 of them now. 

And I couldn't allow that to happen.

I, and only I, was the man of the moment. I was the matador today. I was the only one on all the posters around town. The only one they'd come to see.

Not anyone else.

I exited the ring and started following the bull, clutching the sword which, like my sports cars, felt like a smooth, hard extension to my already huge penis. As I swaggered through the stands, I craved another hit with my golden spoon and vials of the finest powder, but, master of self control that I was, I ignored the urge. I wouldn't if I was a drug addict, would I? So that meant, I wasn't. No matter what anyone says, I don't have a drug problem, I thought. How could anyone say otherwise? The bull was trying to lick puddles of ice cream on the floor. That showed what a stupid, cowardly beast it was; it would rather do that than fight. But it took one look at me and started running again. 

How could it think I was that bad? Such outrageous disrespect.

The door to the bullring was open. It was supposed to be shut. What idiot opened it? I watched helplessly as the bull pelted down the stairs into the street, and in seconds, I watched my unbroken 1500-bull streak collapse. I clenched my teeth in fury, gurning. Just one more sniff, I thought, thinking longingly of the vials of cocaine stored in the matador's changing room, that'd sort me out, but I couldn't, not until my corrida was over.