“What else?” I whisper.
“Nu-uh darlin’, your turn. Spill the beans.” I decide to lay it on real thick in hopes that he will leave me alone afterwards. I have no idea what time it is, but maybe I can drag this conversation out long enough that he will have to leave for his patrol.
“Well…” I start, realizing I have his undivided attention. This is all so very fucked up. I let myself fall into the day dream I’ve had so many times before my parents went missing, and relay it to the sexual sadist lying next to me in the damp earth.
“I got home from work late one evening, and Dennis demanded that I sign my whole paycheque over to him. And because I fucking hesitated for one goddamn second, he hit me. Pushing me to the floor, and stealing my purse. He rifled through it until he found my wallet, then my cheque. ‘Sign it.’ ‘Fucking sign it, you tramp,’ he yelled at me. His voice getting louder and louder as his shaking from the withdrawal got worse. I won’t lie, I was furious and terrified, but what could I do? My mother just stood there in the background, arms crossed, leaning against awall, completely silent. After I signed the cheque, and Dennis took off to get their fix, she shook her head at me. Like…she was so disappointed that I made him mad. I got up from the floor, and walked past her on the way to lock myself in my room for the millionth night in a row. ‘Why can’t you ever do what you’re told, Mallory? I swear you live to piss us off,’ she said. That was the cherry on top of the shit sundae that was my day. That night while lying in bed, stomach twisting from hunger, I mustered up enough courage to leave my room. Silent as a mouse on the way to the kitchen, I snuck past the bathroom. The light was on, the door open, and my mother passed out in the bathtub. I could see down the hallway to the living room. Dennis was in his usual spot, drugged up in the recliner. So, without even thinking, I entered the bathroom and silently closed the door behind me.”
He’s hanging on my every word, eyes wide and shining with desire at my fucked up story. It may be fiction but I have envisioned this situation thousands of times over the years. I wanted to be the one to put an end to my suffering and free myself. I don’t know exactly when murderous intentions turned into suicidal thoughts, all I know is that they did, and I folded in on myself. I failed the little girl inside me that only ever wanted to live happily.
“Don’t clam up on me now, darlin’, tell me the good part.” He’s practically frothing at the bit, drooling like a rabid beast, thirsty as fuck for the goriest part of my tale.
Sicko.
“I grabbed a fist full of my mom's hair and slowly pushed her head beneath the bubbles. I was so careful Ididn’t wake her up. It wasn’t until she was completely below the water that her body started to move. She was too high to fight me off. She just loosely flapped around and tried to scream, but all it did was fill her lungs with the nasty bath water until she stopped moving.”
“Keep goin’, tell me about the man. The one that hit ya.” He rubs his erection through his pants, and I realize this plan has backfired on me in a big way. He tracks my line of sight to him stroking himself. “Finish the story or I’ll finish in your cunt,” he snarls. I’m getting defiled whether I finish the story or not, it’s thehowthat’s being left up to me.
“Okay, chill out,” I snap.
“Watch it,” he glowers.
“I left my mom in the tub and crept down the hall to the kitchen.” My captor undoes his pants, pulling his dick free for the second time in twenty minutes. I avert my gaze, but the movement of his hand invades my periphery.
“I grabbed the biggest knife we had in the butcher block, and stood behind Dennis in the darkness.” He moans as the anticipation of my murderous intention courses through him.
“He was sleeping so peacefully until I pulled the lever that reclined the seat. I scared the shit out of him. His eyes snapped open, arms flailing. He probably thought he was falling.” I laugh, mimicking the actions while envisioning it.
“The sudden movement startled him from sleep. He looked so confused, too fucking stoned to comprehend what was happening.” The man beside me inches closeruntil our bodies are aligned and touching. He’s panting like he’s mid-marathon, coming up fast on the finish line.
“Tell me the best part, darlin’,” he says, as he grabs my hand, wrapping my fingers around his throat. What the fuck is happening? Does he want me to choke him? I’ve never done anything like this before. “Tighter,” he whispers. Is this a test? I have to give him sexual pleasure without taking the enticing opportunity to possibly strangle him? My grip constricts, and he gurgles a moan as his hips buck his dick into his clenched fist.
“So, with one hand cupped under his jaw, holding him in place, and the other gripping the knife, he was looking into my eyes as I slit his throat,” I say, finishing my story.
He’s violently jerking off beside me now. I’m beyond horrified and hate that I’m a part of it, just on a different level than before.
“More. Tell me more,” he moans.
“I watched him flop and choke on his own blood until his last breath. Blood spewing from between his lips and hitting me in the face.”
“Yeah.” He licks his lips.
“The feeling of power was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.” The lie slips easily from between my lips. However, the feeling of power I have in this moment with my hand wrapped around my kidnappers esophagus is new, and oddly…I like it.
“Mhmm… What did his blood feel like?” What the fuck?
“It was warm.”
“What else?” His hips start to gyrate as he thrustsharder into his fist, the movements becoming erratic and losing the steady rhythm from earlier.
“And slippery.”
“Oh, yeah,” he pants.
I see that he is close, and I want this to be over.
“And wet,” I whisper right into his ear. With that, his eyes roll back and he’s cumming all over himself.
I pull my hand away, slowly putting distance between us as he finishes enjoying himself. The violating realization of what just happened crashes over me and I feel disgusting, like I just chipped off a piece of who I am by sinking down to his level. I know I could play into his fantasy, be whatever he wants until I can get out of this alive. I’m strong enough to survive this, I have to be. But who will I be when I do?