Page 64 of Tormenting Me

I watch him prepare to remove Bannister’s eyes. He grabs something from his workbench and steps in front of me. Shielding me from what he is about to do.

“These eyes never deserved to look at her. So now I am going to take them from you, and before she kills you, I’m gonna make you fucking eat them.“ Wes takes whatever tool he has in his hand and the shrill screams reverberate off the warehouse walls.

I move forward and notice what Wes is using to take out Bannister’s eyes.

“Wes, what the fuck? That’s my cookie scoop!” I smack his arm just as he pulls the second eye from the socket, the nerves snapping.

“I’ll buy you a new one.” He says, looking at me, then back down to the scoop. “A better one.”

He opens Bannister’s mouth and shoves his bloody eyeballs in his mouth. “Chew, motherfucker.”

Bannister gags as Wes holds his hand over his mouth. He doesn’t chew. Blood drips from his empty eye sockets onto his shirt. The sight makes my stomach turn. Wes is in his element. The torture and dismemberment is so his thing. And I love watching him do what he does best.

“How do you want him to die, baby?” Wes looks back at me, his face covered in blood spatter.

I grab the second blade from my harness, twirling it around my fingers. Wes moves aside and I stand in front of Bannister. “The pain you caused me my entire childhood does not even amount to the pain you are going through right now. You are momentarily in pain. I have been in agonizing pain for years. Living daily in a metal prison, with no escape. Hopefully now I can move on.” I look down and unbuckle his pants, pulling out his tiny, flaccid dick.

“You won’t be needing this.” I pull it taut and slice through the flesh, his screams muffled by the blood and eyeballs in his mouth. Dropping the severed cock to the floor, I stomp on it, even though I know he can’t feel it. The flow of crimson liquid flows from the wound at a steady pace. I look up at Wes. “Let him bleed out.”

“You look so fucking sexy covered in blood, Ma Petite Mort.” Wes groans, leaning back against his workbench. “Come here,” he motions for me to come over to him. I see the look in his eyes. I smirk, knowing exactly what he wants.

“You want me, baby?” I tease, twirling my blade between my fingers.

“I always want you. There will never be a day I don’t want you, Layne. I’ll love you till death, and even then when our bodies are food for the worms. My soul will find yours, and I’ll want and love you in the afterlife.”

“Crawl to me,” looking him dead in the eyes. “Will the Buainteoir crawl for his little death?”

Wes drops to his knees. He leans forward, placing his hand on the ground, keeping his eyes on up at me. He crawls. Wes Larimore crawls to me. Stopping at my feet, he sits back on his haunches. “What now, Ma Petite Mort?”

“I want you to take me upstairs, wash all this blood off of us and fuck me.” Wes shoots to his feet, picking me up, wrapping my legs around him as I go for his neck. My relentless sucking and biting leave a trail of marks all over him.

He climbs the stairs, and once we are in the loft, he takes us straight to the bathroom. Wes sets me on my feet and we strip, stepping into the shower and turning it on. Not giving it time to heat up.

“How’s that saying go?” He breathes into our kiss. “Couples that clean blood off each other, slay together?”

I roll my eyes. “They stay together. Not slay.“ I smile into his lips.

Wes pulls back and cocks his head to the side, “But don’t they?”

I just laugh. Wes picks me up and the hot water hits my back as he walks up toward the tile wall. The water turning red as it swirls down the drain. Washing away the past and making us clean again.

“You’re my pretty little slut, aren’t you, baby?” Wes whispers seductively in my ear. “You only get wet for your husband’s cock. Show me how much you love it. I want your pretty little pussy covering me in your cum.” His cock slide into my pussy, “That’s it, Layne.” As Wes drives into me, I whimper and he says, “You’re going to take my cock like the good little slut you are.”

“Wes,” I cry out, kissing his face then his lips. “Every part of me is yours.”

“And I’m all yours, Layne. Never forget that. I’ve killed for you, and I would do it again in a heartbeat.” Thrust after thrust, he brings me closer to orgasm. “You’re mine. My wife. The mother of my unborn children. My soulmate.”

I cry as my orgasm shatters me from the inside. I can’t help the tears that fall down my cheeks.

“That’s it beautiful, let it all go.” He captures my lips in a tender kiss. “Let it all go.”

Chapter thirty-seven

Wes

The snowy Sierra Nevada Mountains greet us as we arrive at the cabin I’ve rented for the next three days. Layne is asleep in the passenger seat of our new pickup truck. We’ve been spending more time out in nature. So buying the new truck to take us where we want to go was a must, not to mention Layne loves the beast. I won’t lie, the thing is comfortable as fuck. I can see it now. My GTO just sitting inside the warehouse back in San Francisco, cursing me for buying the truck.

Layne’s wish for a Christmas getaway inspired me to organize the perfect holiday weekend. Ma Petite Mort will never forget this Christmas. Picture it; a secluded cabin in the woods equipped with ropes and knives. What could be better? The cute A-frame cabin ahead of us is adorned with lights and decorations. I’ll have to thank the owner for their efforts with the decorations. They really went all out when I said my wife has never had a proper Christmas.

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