eyes mirroring his desire.
Her eyes widened , and she frantically pulled at her restraints. Big droplets fell from her eyes and slid down her cheeks.
“Don’t talk ,” he said leaning in to her face. “You don’t have to say anything, I know you are happy I’m home. It’s hard for me too, you know.”
She smelled different than his first girlfriend. Not like when he had to wash her because she got shit all over herself. This odor was almost intoxicating. He was heady from the smell, and he dipped in closer to her to get another sniff. She recoiled looking very much like she was trying to pull away.
It was almost like the sight of him repelled her, but he knew that couldn’t be right. He must have misread her reaction. Her eyes widened and quickly filled with tears again. He hated when she cried. Then the black smeared all over her cheeks, trailing lines through the pink powder he’d brushed there, making it hard for him to remember how she looked when she was pretty. Now he’d have to wipe her clean with the Windex and rag again and reapply the pretty colors, stupid twat .
“Stop that now,” he said exasperatingly, feeling his anger build.
She stilled and seemed to have stopped fighting, but her eyes continued to follow him glistening in the dim light. He knew she liked him. There were times when she couldn’t take her eyes off of him and that made him happy. Her eyes opened then snapped tightly closed. She was trying to tell him something, she was trying to convey the sadness she felt when he left her. He knew she hated the thought of him not being here with her, almost as much as he missed her when he had to leave for work.
He yanked four gloves out of the box, two for each hand and stretched them deftly over his fingers. Then he walked to the side table and picked up the shears from the dirty bloodstained surface.
“And now for a few flowers my lovely,” he smiled impishly. She rocked her body violently side to side. Her eyes wide, she screamed weakly against her binding.
He reached forward grabbing her hand and placed the old pruning shears directly underneath, squeezing as hard as he could with both hands, ensuring a clean cut. No one liked flowers with ugly ends. It certainly wouldn’t do to fuck it up again, causing himself extra work trimming away the messy, dirty ripped skin and bloodied splintered bone. He wanted a clean cut, just like all the flowers he got from his first girlfriend. Besides, the man would be mad. The man yelled at him all the time telling him ‘he couldn’t follow simple fucking directions’. He hated when the man yelled.
He watched as her eyes rolled back then closed tight and he heard her moan in spite of all the duct tape he’d used. He promptly slammed his free hand over her mouth so that no one could hear her. She closed her eyes and went to sleep. He knew this because he lowered his ear to her chest and heard her breathe. Good, you need to sleep .
Holding up the flower to inspect, he smiled to himself . Now one more, just like this. He took another flower and held it up to the light.
T his is a good one too, very pretty.
He wrapped the duct tape a round her head two more times, and then wrapped her bloodied hand.
This stuff really does have hundreds of uses.
“Don’t worry…I won’t be gone so long this time. I’ll be back to feed you,” he whispered close to her taped ear. “You have to eat more, or I’ll have to use the tube. You don’t like the tube…remember?”
He knew when she woke up she would be sad he wasn’t there to comfort her and talk to her. He lowered his head and turned the light off on his way out the door.
He had more work to do. First h e needed to prepare the flowers for shipping, drop them with the delivery service. But first he had to go upstairs and decode the newest missive in his uniform pocket. It was in the post office box—just like always. It was waiting for him…his new
Her eyes widened , and she frantically pulled at her restraints. Big droplets fell from her eyes and slid down her cheeks.
“Don’t talk ,” he said leaning in to her face. “You don’t have to say anything, I know you are happy I’m home. It’s hard for me too, you know.”
She smelled different than his first girlfriend. Not like when he had to wash her because she got shit all over herself. This odor was almost intoxicating. He was heady from the smell, and he dipped in closer to her to get another sniff. She recoiled looking very much like she was trying to pull away.
It was almost like the sight of him repelled her, but he knew that couldn’t be right. He must have misread her reaction. Her eyes widened and quickly filled with tears again. He hated when she cried. Then the black smeared all over her cheeks, trailing lines through the pink powder he’d brushed there, making it hard for him to remember how she looked when she was pretty. Now he’d have to wipe her clean with the Windex and rag again and reapply the pretty colors, stupid twat .
“Stop that now,” he said exasperatingly, feeling his anger build.
She stilled and seemed to have stopped fighting, but her eyes continued to follow him glistening in the dim light. He knew she liked him. There were times when she couldn’t take her eyes off of him and that made him happy. Her eyes opened then snapped tightly closed. She was trying to tell him something, she was trying to convey the sadness she felt when he left her. He knew she hated the thought of him not being here with her, almost as much as he missed her when he had to leave for work.
He yanked four gloves out of the box, two for each hand and stretched them deftly over his fingers. Then he walked to the side table and picked up the shears from the dirty bloodstained surface.
“And now for a few flowers my lovely,” he smiled impishly. She rocked her body violently side to side. Her eyes wide, she screamed weakly against her binding.
He reached forward grabbing her hand and placed the old pruning shears directly underneath, squeezing as hard as he could with both hands, ensuring a clean cut. No one liked flowers with ugly ends. It certainly wouldn’t do to fuck it up again, causing himself extra work trimming away the messy, dirty ripped skin and bloodied splintered bone. He wanted a clean cut, just like all the flowers he got from his first girlfriend. Besides, the man would be mad. The man yelled at him all the time telling him ‘he couldn’t follow simple fucking directions’. He hated when the man yelled.
He watched as her eyes rolled back then closed tight and he heard her moan in spite of all the duct tape he’d used. He promptly slammed his free hand over her mouth so that no one could hear her. She closed her eyes and went to sleep. He knew this because he lowered his ear to her chest and heard her breathe. Good, you need to sleep .
Holding up the flower to inspect, he smiled to himself . Now one more, just like this. He took another flower and held it up to the light.
T his is a good one too, very pretty.
He wrapped the duct tape a round her head two more times, and then wrapped her bloodied hand.
This stuff really does have hundreds of uses.
“Don’t worry…I won’t be gone so long this time. I’ll be back to feed you,” he whispered close to her taped ear. “You have to eat more, or I’ll have to use the tube. You don’t like the tube…remember?”
He knew when she woke up she would be sad he wasn’t there to comfort her and talk to her. He lowered his head and turned the light off on his way out the door.
He had more work to do. First h e needed to prepare the flowers for shipping, drop them with the delivery service. But first he had to go upstairs and decode the newest missive in his uniform pocket. It was in the post office box—just like always. It was waiting for him…his new
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