Seeing dark red droplets painted all over their skin tipped me over the edge. Who was I to deny them their violent fantasies? Although I played around here and there, I hadn't found anyone I was interested in until I met my pet. Now I needherto feed my addiction. I wantherto satisfy the boogeyman in me.
Of course, I won’t be as cruel to my girl as I have been with women I paid for. At least not right away. I will push her to see what she can handle. If I can redden her ass and make her beg for mercy, I can tame my dark side while I condition her for the hardcore stuff.
I’ve watched her masturbate a few times on the camera in her bedroom. EvenIfelt like a creep when I zoomed in on the moment, but after a while, I didn't give a shit. I look forward to devouring every inch of her like a gourmet meal.
If I could inhale all her essence into my body, I would; that's how much I crave her. My biggest concern is the clubs she frequents. Some of the losersshe meets look sketchy as hell. The night I followed my target into the club she was whooping it up in, I realized I would not stop until I had her with me. That night, I texted the little flirt, revealing she had a stalker. My brother Zach gave me her number and all the subsequent ones that followed when she constantly changed them to avoid me.
After hounding her incessantly, I hoped she would have cameras installed for her safety. I mapped out the entire scheme, including the ridiculously low installation price. It worked like a charm. I sent her messages from my burner phones, roughed up her boy toys, and two weeks later, she had the cameras installed.
I was relieved when I had full access to her. I know when she eats, sleeps, plugs in for work, and who her visitors are. My crazy ass couldn't have it any other way. Not with this deep, overwhelming need to know what she’s always doing.
There are a lot of drug dealers and human traffickers who frequent the same establishments she visits. Myself and my partners, Jacob and Yara, know most of the trafficking leaders by name.
The three of us wore ski masks to cover our identities if we sat with them in person to review contracts. It isn’t like we are on speed dial with the criminals, but we can contact them if needed. It's funny how these girls have no idea how many guys are stalking them and trying to set them up to be sold to the highest bidder.
The traffickers are always looking for their next pretty young victims. I worry about that for my pet. She may encounter some horrible people, and Iwould go insane if something happened to her. The outcome for trafficked girls usually never ends well.
My specialty is dealing with some of the most vile criminals all over the world. Although I am a very violent man, I am not out to harm my girl.
I just want to play with her, you know, like a cat plays with a mouse before the kill. Of course, I have no intention of murdering this little beauty. I plan to keep her as my pet. My little plaything, at my disposal 24/7. God, I was getting all worked up just thinking about it.
Yara accompanies me on many of the missions. She is as lethal as I am. She is one crazy bitch, who also is gorgeous. Her looks make her a great target for the traffickers.
She’s about five-foot-nine, with legs that go on forever. She is lithe and built of lean muscle.
Her tits aren’t big, but they are in proportion with her slim build. She wears her blonde hair in a short bob, which looks fantastic and brings out the blue in her eyes. She goes undercover as bait if we have difficulty finding our mark.
Whether collaborating with traffickers or botanists, men are men, and most find her irresistible. They fall into the trap every time. She lures them in, and I kill them. It's that easy. We’re like a dream team.
I hired Yara to work beside me with the CIA's blessing. She knows we work for the government, but that’s about it. I am her boss, and she follows my orders. Although she is stunning, she isn’t close to my type.
I like dark hair, big tits, and women that aren’t too muscular. Yara and I spend much of our time jumping globally, chasing one assignment after another.
I love the adrenaline rush I get from the excitement, plus it feeds my need for violence. I focused my attention back on the cameras in Kits' parlor. She was waiting for someone.
I couldn't see the texts, but her Academy Award-winning scream fest directed my way told me someone was going to visit her, and if it was a man, I would not be happy about it. I observe her closely on the camera. She’s about a foot shorter than I am.
I am six feet six inches and full of muscle. I am heavily inked on my arms, chest, and back. I keep my black hair short with light sideburns. I have a neatly trimmed goatee.
I like to keep my face clean. If I don't shave for a day or two, I'll grow a little stubble on my cheeks, but it immediately comes off. Some women find me scary, but most find me to be the bad boy of their fantasies.
If I fucked half of them, they'd be mentally scarred for life. Yara says I am vain and narcissistic, and I could not agree more. I don't apologize for my way of life. Killing people for a living does not bother me. Life in general made me uncaring and unsympathetic to others.
My conscience and empathy for humans were destroyed in my younger years. My brothers, Zach and Joey, are the only two people I care about. I watch my obsession walk to the fridge in her shorts and tee shirt. Her long dark hair is pulled off her neck in a messy bun.
She is adorable. I wonder if she can manage me when I finally take her. I won’t know until I begin her training.
What I do know is she’s a fucking flirt, and it makes my blood boil. I often witnessed it when I watched her dancing and laughing with those gutter rats.
None of them can compare to me. All of that will end soon. I am going to worship that body. I want to bite her all over, claiming my territory.
My goddamn dick is moving around again. This happens every time I think about her. My ears perk up when I hear a knock at her door. She heads back to the parlor and lets some scruffy-looking kid in.
I hope it’s the pizza delivery boy, but I know it isn't. I can feel myself getting angry. This chump looks like a fucking sissy. He is tall and lanky, with blondish hair. He has little to no muscle. Fuck, if he is there to crawl into her pussy, she needs to rethink her choices.
I’ve been keeping myself in check these past few weeks. I would hate to go out there and split the kid’s face open with a goddamn backhander, but if I must, I will.
I listen intently to their conversation. I can feel my nostrils flaring and my anger building as this scumbag hones in on my fucking property.
