Like I told him, I love that cat as if he were my child. Most parents would do anything for their kids.I’ll do the same for my Tuna boy. Besides, I don’t have anyone else except my stalker for company. At least I can cuddle my cat and enjoy it. There is no pleasure left in my life now.
I am stuck in a pretty fucked up situation. He has total power over my very existence. If I choose a quick spanking instead of being degraded again, I only hope I can endure the pain. Just thinking about it makes me sick to my stomach. Imagine yesterday afternoon my life was normal and great.
I was free to do as I pleased, and now? What a fucked-up mess!! He returned to take me to the bathroom.
He lifted me into his arms, making me feel like a small child. I felt embarrassed having him hold me without a stitch of clothes on. My ass isn’t that sore, but I guess I am going to have to choose humiliation instead of pain for my punishment. I don't want to experience another spanking, or, God forbid, a whipping.
God, I hate being humiliated. Sometimes, dying would be a better choice. Once I get up enough courage, I will most likely take the spankings for the last two fucked-up punishments I owe him.
I think I can handle it. I used to deal with my mother beating me up constantly, and I ended up cutting myself for at least a year. That pain was a release from my shitty life at the time. I don’t think my stalker is interested in beating me to a pulp. I think he is more interested in just making my bottom red, and for some super fucked up reason, he gets off on inflicting pain and tears.
What a sick pervert.
I only pray that he told me the truth when he said he wouldn’t make me bleed. He lowered me into the tub, kneeling on his knees while he washed me.
I was still tired from the drug he had injected me with earlier, but I must admit, I enjoyed it when he bathed me. He reached down towards my sex with the washcloth.
“Open Kitten. I want you squeaky clean, especially down there.” My face blushed at his comment, but I obeyed without a fuss. After all, I promised him total obedience, didn’t I? He washed my sex so thoroughly that I was sure it would sparkle like a diamond.
I think he enjoys touching me between the clefts of my pussy. He scraped the cloth over my clit twice, making me flinch as he grazed over the sensitive nerves. He laughed when I almost jumped out of my skin.
“Oh, Kotyonok, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to make you buck like that. I must have hit your little button."
I kept my temper under control.
"Hmm, I am sure you are genuinely sorry."
He laughed.
"Roll on your side so I can get at your bottom.”
Think about Tuna, Kit. Do as he says.Don’t let him win.
I rolled over to my side as he soaped up the cloth and inserted it between my cheeks, washing me just as thoroughly as he did my sex. This wasn't very pleasant, but I had to be good, or he would find Tuna a home.
He finally pulled the cloth away from my ass. I was thankful that he was done with the most embarrassing parts of my bath. “Okay, lean back so I can washyour hair.”
Now, I don’t mind this. There was something so relaxing about having my hair washed by this good-looking psychopath. He was handsome, but he was also insane.
Once he had finished bathing me, he stood me up, wrapped me in a huge towel, and carried me back to the bed. After my bath, he always laid out another towel on the mattress. He laid me down on my back and dried me off like I was a small toddler. I guess this is one of his fetishes — bathing me.
He most likely enjoys it because I am naked, and he also gets to touch me anywhere he wants to. Not that he can't touch me or take me anytime he wants to. I'm not strong enough to kick his ass.
"Open those legs up, Kotyonok. I need to dry that pussy off. I don't want you to get a rash."
Ugh, so degrading.
I obeyed him without saying a word. He gently dried my inner thighs and my sex, fluffing the thin landing strip that covered my mound. I could hear his labored breathing. The pig was aroused. I turned my head, embarrassed.
It's only going to be a matter of time before he violates my body. I’ve never been with a man whose penis was that big. I am a small person.
I wasn’t sure if it would even fit inside me. I’ve only had sex a handful of times. Whether or not he believed me doesn’t matter. I know how many guys I’ve slept with. Three, to be exact. A boyfriend I was with for two weeks, another guy I met at the club, and John, my would-be rapist.
That’s it. I never had a long-term relationship. I wasn’t interested in anyone. Having finished primping between my legs, he grabbed a little greensummer frock from the closet. He likes it because it brings out the color in my eyes, so he says. He dressed me again, like I was a small child who couldn’t fend for herself.
I just chalked it up to him being weird. He brushed my hair out and put it in a ponytail, letting it dry naturally. I wonder if he was a hairdresser before he started killing people. When he gave me the handheld mirror to see what a great job he did, I had to admit to myself that the ponytail was perfect. He did better than I ever could have.
As promised, he didn't allow me to wear underwear. He pulled a chair over to the edge of the bed and sat in front of me. “Lift your feet onto my lap. I want to get them wrapped up." I did as I was told. He caressed them gently before applying the ointment and gauze.
