Page 87 of Mayhem and Minnie

Every single woman this slime bag hurt was a potential Minnie, and that makes me even more enraged.

“Since you used this particular organ to commit your crime,” I start, pointing at his split dick, now red and swollen from the chlorine that’s seeped into the tissue. “I shall have to punish it first.”

Grabbing the bowl, I place it over his dick and slowly tilt it. The substance pours down between the two halves of his dick, filling it up like the sandwich it reminded me of.

This is a fast-drying concrete, so it will take around half an hour for it to harden.

Paul’s eyes are once more wide with horror as he attempts to push against his bounds.

He’s barely conscious, and liquid pours out of the split dick—not blood, something else. It seems that his urethra burst, and that’s urine.

I shake my head.

“Disgusting.” I tsk at him. “That deserves a punishment, Pauly boy.”

Leaving behind the terrified rapist, I head over to one of my cabinets and open it. I browse the selection of tools as I think what would be the most fitting one for what I have in mind.

I suppose a saw?

Hmm.

But as I contemplate how to hack Pauly apart, I happen to glance upon a funnel. My gaze remains fixated on it.

“Aha!” I exclaim, giddiness erupting inside of me.

This is all new territory. And despite my rather absentminded state as of late, Pauly’s kill is the best I’ve had in forever.

Since two years ago, as a matter of fact.

Perhaps I have finally gotten my mojo back.

My mood is soaring as I pick up the funnel and go back to the table. I pour more cement powder into the bowl and make the mixture more watery.

Pauly is beside himself with fear as I remove his gag and place the funnel in his mouth. He tries to move, but it’s useless. He even tries to bite down on the narrow end of the funnel—how he still has the strength to do so, I don’t know.

Alas, with a bit more force, I manage to shove it down his throat so he cannot get it out. Taking advantage of this position, I pour the mixture from the bowl down his throat.

He makes some choking sounds, as one would expect. He gags and thrashes some more. I suppose that’s what his victims experienced, too, on that drug.

“How does it feel to be helpless, Pauly boy? Not so great, no?”

I don’t know how long it will take for the cement to fortify inside his body. There’s a lot of wetness there, after all. But hopefully, it will not be too long. I still want to sleep a few hours. And it will take me quite a while to slice up his body and dump the parts in the furnace.

I release a deep sigh.

It seems this night will be a long one.

Another glance at the screen has me smiling. Minnie is on her belly on top of the duvet, holding the book with both hands as she reads.

Cute. So damn cute.

I spend a few moments admiring her, which strengthens my resolve to get rid of this little pest. This way, the world will be safer for her and women like her.

Since I’ll have to wait for the cement to grow hard inside of him—and that’s quite the pun—I decide to watch an episode of Supernatural. This one has been long overdue, and as I play the show, I realize how much I was looking forward to it. That was before Minnie, of course. Since she’s barged into my life, I’ve barely given it any mind, except when I recall how messed up my previously perfect routine is.

By the time the end credits roll on the screen, I’m yawning.

Have I gotten too old for this torture business?

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