Chapter Twelve
Artemis
I loosen the belt’s grip around Mark’s neck for a moment. I feel so powerful and in control right now, that I want to see if he’s really capable of snapping Susie’s neck. Is he that angry, to be able to take a life without thinking of the consequence? Or would this be more of a survival tactic? Something that he would do in order to win his life from us and, perhaps, show his dominance as the only man in the room.
It’s clear to me that the testosterone in his body is outweighing the smarts in his brain, so as Susie begins to gasp for air and claw at his wrists, I give the belt a hard, tug. Only once; hard enough to get him back down on the bed, rigid and complacent.
Just how he should be.
I cock my head to the right and look down at his face. The tighter I pull, the more crimson it becomes, but something about this makes me wish I was in his place instead. Not because I wanted to save him from being strangled; guys like Mark deserve much worse than that, but because there was something about breath control play that always soaked my panties through.
Well, fuck. I guess I’m not going to kill you after all.
I’ve just decided that. If I can liken this situation to BCP, then Mark has a stellar chance of walking out of this bedroom with his balls still attached.
To be quite honest, I think it was all his talk about him being "daddy” that’s keeping him straight in my head. And it’s also making me question my fucking sanity. Could be because that’s the first time I heard someone refer to me as their little girl since I was about six years old.
But not just anyone.
Mark.
I’m sure he always knew that one day it would come to this, but I never thought I’d have a friend to help me.
Uncle Mark was my mom’s boyfriend after Dad died, and what a boyfriend he turned out to be. He never abused me; I guess that’s important to remember, but when I got my period for the first time at thirteen years old, Mom was at work. Night shifts at the hospital and day shifts doing whatever the hell he did for a living would often leave me by myself, but it was almost like fate intervened that day.
Anyway, Mark is the one that told me about the reproductive system, and he’s also the one that helped me put a tampon in for the first time. And the second time, and the third, until eventually it became a little game we would play. Every time my pussy would bleed, here came Uncle Mark to slide my tampon in and out until he felt it was “securely” in place. Usually, it just led to him getting a hard-on and nothing more, but it was fun.
But he never fucked me; not until just now, and I always wondered if he was as good as I would hear Mom screaming to God through the walls about. He wasn’t bad, but I didn’t exactly get to try him out by myself, so that kind of soured the deal for me.
“Think we should kill him?” I ask Susie, coming back to the present moment.
“No!” she croaks loudly, her hands rubbing her throat.
I roll my eyes. This girl would never be okay with killing Mark and, honestly, I’m not sure I would be either, but I have my reasons for wanting him dead, and I know it has to be done. I hadn’t torn my eyes away from his reddening face yet. I can’t help but watch in awe at the colors the human body turns into when it perceives itself to be under attack.
White. Blue. Red. Dark red. Bright red. Purple. And, finally, the sick ashen gray color of death. I trail a finger down the side of his face, gently pressing down on one of the now bulging veins and smile.
“Why are you so hell-bent on killing him?” Susie asks in a curious, throaty tone. “Did he do something to you?”
I chuckle and glance up at her. “Susie Q, you ask too many questions for a girl not willing to do any more than just fuck.”
“For the last time, my name is Sissy,” she corrects through grit teeth.
I roll my eyes at her then look back down at Mark, who’s turning that pretty shade of violet. It’s not because he can’t breathe; I’m making sure he has enough oxygen. It’s because he’s getting angry, and that moves the blood just as quickly as the struggle to survive. I don’t know why he’s angry though. Nothing about this scenario will play out in his favor no matter how much he wants it too.
So okay, he got to fuck me and Susie, what was the rest of his plan after that? Did he even have one or would he just keep coming back and fucking us until he decided we weren’t worthy of him anymore and moved on?
Personally, I wouldn’t mind either way this played itself out, but I really didn’t think it was fair to dress up Susie like a pig-tailed little girl and rope her into his weird fantasies.
After all these years, I’m surprised he hadn’t figured out yet that I wasn’t exactly up for sharing him. Anyone else I didn’t give a fuck about. I’ve been to those little sex clubs, I’ve fucked husbands and wives together and apart, boyfriends, girlfriends, and everyone in between, but I just didn’t like the idea of sharing Mark.
I have a special bond with him even if he doesn’t want to admit it, even though I’ve always held off fucking him until today.
“Fuck,” I say with a long-suffering sigh under my breath.
“Lydia?” Susie suddenly asks.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t think he’s breathing anymore.”
What?
I look down at Mark and frantically begin to undo the belt.Oh shit! OH FUCK!He’s not red anymore, he’s starting to turn a strange pale shade of blue, and it dawns on me that the entire fucking time I was daydreaming and reliving my tampon fucking days, I had begun to tighten the belt around his fucking neck without realizing it.
