As I move to get up, one of my captors walks out. At a glance, I’m not sure who, they are exact copies of each other.
“Morning, Sweet Cheeks. Fuck, you look like shit. How’d you sleep?” He says with a devilish grin and cheer lacing his voice. Ok, the cannibal. He’s just as crazy as Al, but he makes jokes about everything and is aloof.
“Fine,“ I shoot back in a clipped tone. I’m feeling more myself and have the energy to rebel slightly.
“That’s good. You seemed all cozy curled up with my baby brother. Tell me, how does it feel to snuggle with the enemy?”
The bastard’s goading me, and my brows furrow as I let out a huff. All that does is make him laugh. B’s head tilts back as the deep chordal fills the room.
“Come on, gotta get you all cleaned up. I’m surprised your snatch isn’t infested with bugs from the amount of filth you’re covered in.” He waves a hand towards the bathroom door.
Instantly, I’m on my feet and beside him. The thought of being able to use a fucking toilet feels like winning the lottery. I’ll play nice until then, my ankle is free of the cuff, and it feels nice not to drag the chain behind me.
“Go on, shit, shower, forget the shave. C will do that later. He’s amazing with his razor, never nicks the skin… Well not by accident at least. Onpurpose is another story.” This man must not know how to shut the fuck up. It’s possible he just likes hearing himself talk.
“Do you ever shut up? Or is that another character flaw like the fact you’re a deranged sociopath, who buys kidnapped women, and eats people?” I retort, feeling braver compared to last night. Plus, I didn’t curse him out, so that’s bonus points.
He stares like I slapped him, blinking for a second before bursting out laughing again. B snorts and wheezes, and when he pulls himself together, he wipes a fake tear from his eye.
“Damn Red, I’m glad your fire isn’t out. Still a bitch, I see. For the record, its psychopath. Sociopaths are made, we were born like this.” Then he levels his face.
“I’d be careful, never know when we will take your words as insults. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were asking for a punishment. It’s a good thing I’m not easily offended.” He waves it off and points to the toilet.
I don’t waste time now with the threat of a punishment; I’d like one shit not in a bucket. Or a hole. I have a feeling he wouldn’t leave me alone to have some privacy.
Plus, he’s probably already seen me with the bucket and shitting like a cat. I have to pick my battles, and this isn’t one to pick. I use the prison style toilet then look at the showerhead on the wall in the corner.
There’s no curtain, just a shower and a drain on the floor. A caddy holds the shampoo and body wash that I used last time.
It did nothing for my hair or skin. My curls need good quality stuff and conditioner, not this cheap ass 2in1. I don’t wait for him to grant me permission and simply step into the corner.
I move to the makeshift shower and turn on the water. I’m shocked to find that after a moment it heats.
Holy fuck!
I practically drool and lunge under the hot spray with a groan. Wetting my hair and soaking every inch of my body.
B’s voice cuts in just as I forget that I’m being watched. “Careful with your scalp. You have stitches in there, and Al would be pissed if you ruined his art.” His hand flicks towards my face and legs, “those as well.”
I knew I had stitches on my body. They are kinda hard to miss, but I didn’t know I had any in my head. My fingers move slowly, runningover bald areas until I feel the wires at the back.
I grab the shampoo and squirt some into my hand. It’s nothing special, and it just smells like soap, no pretty floral scents or anything like my favourite peach stuff.
I scrub my hair, being mindful of the cut in it. The soap stings a little when it gets in but the pain is familiar. Next, I grab the body wash and lather up my body. My muscles relax as the warm spray kisses all over my sensitive skin.
I can’t linger too long, but I take my time rinsing off. Shutting off the water, I look back to see my captor holding out a towel. I take it from him and dry off before wrapping my hair up. My hair’s a lost cause as it’s probably just gonna be a matted mess for the rest of time.
“Come on, it’s still morning, and I hope you remember I love mornings.” B sings as he walks out of the bathroom.
I know what he wants, and this is just another thing I’ll have to endure. My best bet is to let them think I’m compliant, and when the time is right, I can make my escape.
Stepping out of the bathroom, I find B lying on my cot. There’s no room for me to sit on it as his gigantic bulk takes up the whole thing.
When I walk towards him, he grabs my hips and yanks my body on top of him. I yelp in surprise as I’m forced to straddle his shoulders, facing his cock.
The bulge tents his jeans, and if it weren’t for the denim, I’d be staring at his one eye snake. B grips my hips and pulls them down towards his face. “I told you I love giving and receiving, so hurry up and give, then you’ll receive.”
A shiver of excitement runs up my spine. It has been awhile since I came, even longer since someone ate me out. My fingers move of their own accord and unzip his jeans.
