Page 67 of Violent Cravings

And maybe that's my only way out of this.

I'm pushing the thought aside. Just like I've been pushing Lemon aside for the past two days. Lemon and his calls and texts, our aquisition, the meeting that had to be postponed because I wasn't available. None of it can make it through the wall that shields my mind from the rest of the world.

All that matters is the beautiful girl downstairs. The girl who's robbed me off my sanity with such ferocity that I couldn't even face her when I dashed into her room and attacked her like an animal.

I shouldn't treat her like that. Back in the far corners of my mind, I'm aware of that. I'm also aware of the fact that she was enjoying herself when I ravaged her sore little body. And I'm aware that I left her unsatisfied and confused. Instead, I fled from the room like a coward, hiding in the shower in an attempt to cleanse my mind of the oppressive insanity that's taken a hold of me.

I turn the water off, exposing myself to the cold air outside the shower when I step out of it, grabbing a plush towel and dabbing myself dry as I walk out of the bathroom. I throw on a pair of pants and a shirt, as if my previous nakedness was at the root of my lack of self-control. Even if I continue to leave her unaware of the gravity of her situation, I can't leave my doll alone like this.

I make my way downstairs, ready to confront myself with her confused and saddened face after what happened just a short time before.

But I don't find any of that. Instead of finding a lost girl with her green eyes glued to me in a bewildered expression, I find my doll spread out on the bed, moaning in ecstasy as she pleasures herself with one of the toys stored in the glass cabinet in her room. She's so immersed in pleasure that she didn't even hear me coming. Only after I close the door behind me does she lift her dazed eyes toward the door, her expression quickly changing as she spots her master looking down at her, slowly shaking his head.

"What a bad little girl you are," I say, slowly approaching her with daunting steps.

“Bad, bad little doll.”

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