Page 128 of Distorted Obsession

Uncrossing their legs, the asshole stands, adjusting the enamel pin on their suits before crossing the room. They move so quickly, I don’t have time to brace myself before I’m slapped across the face with such velocity that my head snaps to the left. The copper tang of blood coats my tongue, but I don’t dare spit it out.

“Use that pea-sized brain of yours for once,” they snap.

Swallowing, I search for clarity. I shouldn’t be up?—

Before I can finish that thought, memories assault me.

Candace’s death.

My rage once I found out the chick of my dreams had the virginity that was mine to take stolen from me before she was ruthlessly killed by the fucker sneering before me.

This can’t be the reason I’m strung up like an offering.

“Think harder,” they command.

I begin to arch a brow before I think better of it. Instead, I push myself to remember more.

Eva…

My pupils dilate, my eyes nearly bulging out of my head.

Eva…

Me following her.

Me waiting until she would be alone.

Me attacking her.

I can feel my cock pulsate at the memory of my fingers inside of her, pumping—preparing her to be split open by my big fat dick.

“Shit… fuck,” I shout, remembering how Mason stopped me and then I tucked my tail between my legs to run. But I didn’t make it out of my dorm. “You,” I point to the assholes that sold me out. “Both of you. How could you betray me?”

Laughing, Brad replies, “It was you or us. The decision wasn’t a hard one to make.”

“Youfucked up and there’s no way we are going down with you,” Chad adds.

“As touching as this all is, the end of your bromance is not the pressing issue.”

That statement silences us, forcing our attention back to the harbinger of death.

I watch as they stroll over to the table full of various sex toys. Each of which has been modified to bring the pain we want. I have to fight my urge to beg when I see the cock ring is snatched up.

“Since you don’t know how to keep your hands, mouth, and you disgusting dick off what’s mine, I figured I’d have them,” they point to Chad and Brad, “teach you the lesson even fucking preschoolers can comprehend.”

I watch as familiar devices we used to torture people are gathered. A boxcutter, a pair of pliers, a modified cock ring, and a modified cigar cutter are the next things grabbed, and I know my death is going to be far worse than the quick end Candace got.

“Usually, I’d take the pleasure of ending your disgusting existence, but I can’t fuck up my plan for these two after they deal with you,” the fucker singsongs, handing the pliers and boxcutter to Chad and the cock ring and cigar cutter to Brad.

They both waste no time, stalking over to me.

“Guys, please,” I beg, knowing no amount of pleas will change my fate. I played Russian roulette and lost.

“Open your mouth,” Chad demands, and I shake my head, locking my jaw to prevent them from what I know is to come.

This only serves to piss off the asshole. “You may want to do this the easy way, Thad. Choosing the blue pill is better than the alternative. Ignorance is bliss, as they say.”

I take the suggestion for what it is—a warning.

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