Page 10 of The Author

He had done something to it. The expression on his face looked far too sneaky.

“Sit up,” he said.

I tried to sit up, but it was difficult to move with my hands and feet still incapacitated.

His smile broadened as he watched me struggle.

I’d never met someone as sick and twisted as this shitbag of a human being in front of me.

When I finally managed to sit up, he sat beside me and held the bottle to my face. He pushed the bendy straw through my slips, avoiding the stitching.

“Suck it all up,” he said.

Alarmed at his tone, I glanced at him.

“It’s a shame you’re a thief. I could have used these plump lips,” he said, looking down at my lips.

I felt the straw hit my teeth, and I opened my mouth without moving my lips.

“Suck it all up like a good little bitch,” he said, but this time his voice was huskier.

I began sucking up the liquid hungrily. It tasted like a fruit smoothie but with something else added in. It was thick like a milkshake. Perhaps he added a filler to it. It didn’t take me long to finish it as I was so hungry. A wave of sadness hit me as I wondered if I would ever get to eat solid foods before he killed me.

I blinked at my thought process.

What the fuck?

Was I dreaming of a steak and chips while this mad asshole held me captive?

Once the slurping noises started, he pulled the bottle away from me only to open it up and check the contents.

“Just a little more left at the bottom,” he said, sliding the straw back into my mouth.

I glanced up at him to find him looking back at me. Only this time, he didn’t have murder in his expression. It was more of a smug look.

I looked away towards the doorway. He had left the door open, but it was no good with me trussed up like a Christmas turkey.

Once I had finished the remnants of the smoothie, he pulled the bottle away from me.

He stood up.

“Do you want to know the secret ingredient to your smoothie?”

Arsenic?

Bleach?

“I added a nice load of my hot cum inside it,” he said with a snigger.

My stomach turned at the thought.

What sort of a sick maniac was this?

“You don’t have to drink it. If you want to starve yourself to death, that’s on you,” he said.

I gaped at him.

This guy was something else.

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