Page 99 of Ruining Vanessa

Slayer slaps the back of his head again. “Dick move, Brad. But that’s not why we’re here, lucky for you.”

Even though the food is really basic and boring, I open up one of the containers on my lap and start eating. “This isn’t even good Italian, man. Fuck, rich kid like you should have more class.”

“You don’t have to eat it!” Brad whines. “That’s my food!”

I laugh, because that’s such a stupid thing to get stuck on when tied up and mostly naked. I pointedly slurp up more noodles. “Johnny, you want some? There’s enough food here for a few days. I’m guessing this little piggy doesn’t know how to cook.”

Slayer shakes his head. “Nah. Maybe after we’re done with Brad here, I’ll see if you actually left me any. Haven’t done anything to work up an appetite over yet, though, lucky for Brad.”

While I eat, I scroll through Brad’s texts. So many women’s names, Clara and Natalie and Paula and Vanessa. I already know what he’d sent to her, but I go through the other ones too.

Hookup tonite?

Your ass looks great in those jeans.

Just one pic, come on.

I won’t share, I promise.

Of course, when I switch over to the texts he’d sent to the male names, I see the same pictures the women had sent to him, distributed among all his friends.

“I’m almost impressed at how much of a sleaze you are,” I say, still scrolling. “Like, I thought I was bad. Here I am, taking money to terrify some rich brat, but it turns out you’re enough of a dickweed that I don’t even feel bad about it.” I smile at him. “You’ve got like ten different booty calls in here! Which of these chicks is your favorite? And don’t lie. Johnny’s really good at figuring out when somebody’s lying.”

“I’m getting bored, so I’d enjoy the exercise, easy as it would be,” Slayer says agreeably. “I mean, I’d rather just start cutting off fingers, but if you want to talk about his hookups, that’s cool too. Give us the deets.”

I laugh. “Cutting off fingers? I guess it’s a cliche for a reason. When’s the last time we did that? Must have been… Ooh, what’s-his-face, with the crooked nose?”

Brad whimpers and shakes his head. “No! No! Stop, it’s Clara! Clara’s my favorite!”

“So maybe I’m just getting old,” Slayer says, “but back in my day, if I had a favorite, I’d just… date her. Not have nine other hookups on the side. You know? I’d treat her well so she’d wanna come around and fuck me, but I guess that’s the hard part for you, huh?”

“Poor Clara. She really thinks you’re a nice guy,” I say, sending her a few pics of the other girls saved to the phone. I go in and do that to the other chicks too. It doesn’t take long for the phone to start receiving response texts, some angry, some hurt. I throw in a dickpic to the dudes, for good measure.

Then I set both the phone and the food down next to me on the floor. “Okay, that’s all the boring shit out of the way. Time for the fun part.” I pull my own phone out and open the camera app. “Oink for the camera, piggy.”

Brad pales, and he shakes his head. “C’mon, man,” he begs. “You don’t need to do this. I get it. I’ll tell my dad to lay off any shit he’s doing on the side.”

“Johnny, could you…?” I make a vague hand gesture at Slayer.

“Sure,” Slayer says, driving his fist into Brad’s gut. “That’s too nice, huh? I should get the knife.”

Brad shakes his head quickly, oinking desperately.

“Nice. Now crawl around as best you can. While oinking, please. Put some effort into this roleplay.”

“Is it really roleplaying if he’s actually a pig?” Slayer wonders aloud, stepping back to let Brad try to crawl on the floor.

He really looks more like a worm than anything else, the way he can’t move well with his hands tied behind his back. He moves, though, still oinking while I take a video of it.

It’s hilarious, watching him do this, but it isn’t scratching that itch inside me.

I don’t want to just humiliate him.

Fucking prude, nobody else is ever going to want your flat ass or tiny tits.

I want to drive a knife through his throat.

“Do you think anybody would miss him?” I ask, contemplating. “The tarp’s down. We could clean up the blood easy. Hell, if we dispose of the body properly, they might think he fled town to escape the massive public humiliation he’s about to face.”

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