Page 15 of Marked

“This is where we’ll deviate just a little,” I explain to him, grabbing the picture of Jessica and using the tip of my knife topoint at the bruising on her thighs. “You hurt her using that little cock of yours, yes?”

He swallows.

“I’ll take that as a confession. I’m not gonna touch your little prick. You’ll do it. Go on, get yourself off.” I grab his hand and shove it on his groin. “Do it.”

“Why? You’ll just kill me anyway.” Ah, some sense has finally made its way back to his brain.

“That’s right. I am going to kill you, just like you killed that girl. But I’m happy to deviate a little more and start removing body parts before that happens.”

All color drains from his face.

“A toe. A finger. Another toe. Some of your thigh. A little bit of fat from your ass. I mean, there’s a lot I can remove before I get to anything vital.” I tap my knife to my cheek. “If I were you, I’d start thinking about something to get that dick hard.”

He closes his eyes, swallows again.

It takes a few minutes, but finally his cock stiffens. Right along with every muscle in my body. I know what he’s thinking about to get himself hard. I want to pummel his face in for it, but I have to keep steady.

“Go on.” I nudge his thigh with the knife.

He’s slow at first. But in seconds he’s going at it like a pubescent high schooler who just learned how good his own hand feels.

Just when I think the fucker can’t be any more repulsive, he starts fucking moaning.

Moaning!

I grip the handle of my knife. This can’t be finished soon enough.

His eyes are closed while he’s licking his lips.

Jessica didn’t get any reprieve. She saw no pleasure during the three days she was his captive. She was beaten and bruised. He’d taken the very essence of her.

He can’t possibly think I’m letting him bust his nut before this is over.

But he does. The monster actually thinks he’s going to orgasm.

He’s pumping harder, faster, and his lips are trembling.

I poise the knife.

“All right, Dustin. Open up, sweet boy.”

Just as his eyes open, I strike, plunging the knife right into his throat.

A thick cloud of cotton candy vape floats across the bar and into my face. I follow the cloud to a college kid standing in the crowd, with an empty beer glass.

“Hey!” I lean over the bar and yell. I can barely hear myself over the music thumping in the background. Carl brought in a DJ for the weekends. It worked in attracting more customers, but it’s also made it hell to hear anyone.

“Hey!” I wave my hand toward the kid as he brings the vape back to his mouth. “You can’t do that in here. You gotta go outside!” I jerk my thumb toward the front door.

He frowns.

“It’s not smoke,” he argues, yelling over the two people standing in front of him waiting for their turn to be served.

“I don’t care. You can’t do it here. Outside,” I yell back, then lean in to hear the girl who’s ordering her third rum and Coke of the night. I snag her cash and get the drink for her.

“You got those guys over there?” Carl, the owner and second bartender for the night gestures to the line in front of me.

“Yeah, I’m good.” I place the glass on a cocktail napkin and push it toward the girl. “Here you go.”

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