I start to twist the metal bar and it begins to click with every turn, slowly opening Chris’s legs.
“Wha.. what are you doing?” He says, voice shaken and I turn the bar again before looking up at him. “Doing the very thing you did to me.”
His eyes grow larger at the realisation of the situation. “No, please.. look, I said I was sorry!”
“And sorry doesn’t fucking cut it!” I scream, palms slamming on the table. I don’t usually lose my cool like this but in what world is ‘sorry’ an acceptable word to use when it comes to the act of rape, when is iteverokay?
I’ll tell you when, never. None of this is o-fucking-kay.
I drop my head slightly, focusing on the metal table as I simmer the thoughts that are crashing around my head, then I inhale deeply, holding it for a moment before blowing it out.
I’m calm.
Chris continues to fumble over his words, begging me not to do this but I’m already too far gone. Too lost in the abyss for anyone to come and find me. His words seem to trail off like a muffled sound in the background as I start to turn the bar again,cranking it open with every spin until I’ve spread open Chris’s legs as far as they will go. Then I lift up the bar and prop it into place, forcing him to bend his legs at the knees, just like one would do when having a pap smear.
The sight is truly disgusting. His balls ungulate with every whimper that slips past his mouth, and every time he sobs his asshole puckers like a barking dog’s. It’s like staring into a black hole with how much hair and stringy pubes he’s grown there.
Still, I can tackle the wilderness if need be.
Tremors wrack his body and I can feel his fearful eyes on me as I round the table and head over to one of the units that frame the basement to grab a large wooden rolling pin.
“Perfect.” I mutter to myself whilst running my hand down the girthy item, then I spin to face Chris who looks like he’s on the verge of passing out.
“Wh.. what are you going to do with that?” He whimpers, his voice clearly filled with distress.
“Oh you asked for this, pookie.” I tease with a sinister grin then walk back over to the table, rolling pin in hand. I place it to the side and Chris tries with all his might to shuffle away from it. “Don’t worry baby, it doesn’t bite but it might splinter.”
“You’re fucking crazy, you know that right?”
I huff out a laugh at his pathetic excuse of trying to insult me. “Yeah. I never claimed that I wasn’t.”
What is it with guys calling me crazy? Like babe, I never said that I wasn’t.Dickhead.
“Anyway,” I sigh. “Let’s not spoil my fun, shall we?” Grabbing the egg chopper that I placed down earlier, I make sure the blade is down and grab his soft, sausage-like dick in my opposite hand. It’s a struggle to keep the small appendage in my grip seeing as it keeps slipping out, along with Chris wriggling around so I grab the base tightly and squeeze it to keep it in place.
Chris yelps from how hard I’m holding his one-eyed worm and whilst I’ve got it in place, I slip the bulbous head through the hole of the chopper and slide it down until it’s nestled in his forest of pubes.
“Look at that, it doesn’t even touch the sides.” I snigger at the sad looking sight before me. Maybe all the vile and vicious acts he’s committed has caused it to shrink, or maybe he was always just a little limp dick in the first place.
Anger floods his face at my comment. “You fucking bi–”
I cut him off by pushing up the blade until it grazes his flesh. “I would suggest that you choose your next wordsvery carefully,I’d hate to slip.” A wicked grin pulls at my lips and Chris snaps his mouth shut, the muscles in his jaw ticking away.
“That’s a good boy,” I coo. “Seems you can behave when you want to, it’s just a shame that you couldn’t behave all those years ago. All of this could have been avoided if you’d have just left me alone, but you didn’t. Youchoseto follow me that night, youchoseto hurt me, to violate me and now it’s only fair that I give it back to you.”
His whole body begins to vibrate, a sickening dread washing over his already pale face at the realisation of what's to come. “Pl..please, don’t do this.. I, I can be better. I’ve changed!” The lies spill from his mouth like thick tar. Words that I’ve heard over and over again, it’s all bullshit when it comes to people like Chris.
They never learn and they never change. It’s engrained into their DNA, their character. It’s in their blood and if I have to rid the world of these vile monsters one by one, then that’s what I’ll do
I grip the handle of the chopper tightly, then with my opposite hand I hold onto the guillotine blade, the sharp point pressing firmly into his soft appendage. “That’s what they all say.” My words have no emotion to them, they’re just sharp and dry andas soon as they leave my mouth, I force the blade through his dick.
The meat is tough at first but once I’ve gotten half way through, the razor sharp blade slices through with ease. Blood spurts over my hands, spraying like a hosepipe as I cut through the last inches of sinew and skin.
Chris screams as he arches his back off the table, teeth grinding together as he tries to fight through the pain. His hands ball into fists until the veins underneath his skin threaten to burst.
“Oh, fuck.. what have you done?!” He whimpers through bated breaths and I swear I can see his heart ramming against his chest. The juicy muscle threatening to burst free from its ivory cage.
Hearts make the perfect filling for cherry pies and soups, the blood is a beautiful rich red that just can’t be achieved by food dyes.
