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Judith lowers herself down to the floor and crawls toward me, her eyes big and glassy from her orgasm. “Can I help you with that?” she asks softly. “I’ve never done it before, but?—”

I smile and crawl to meet her.

“I’ll show you what to do,” I purr, pulling her into a kiss so she can taste her pleasure on my mouth.

And then I guide her hand down to my own soaked pussy, and I teach her how to fuck me in front of the fool who thought he could trap us both.

The End

SNAPPED

A SPLATTERPUNK HORROR STORY

BY SAGE MITCHELL

CONTENT CONSIDERATIONS:

Warning- The genre of this story is splatterpunk horror. Nothing in these pages are glamorous, sexy, or erotic. It is specifically made to amplify the horrors that many women face at some point in their lives. A grim fact that can be seen far too common with the rise of technology and social media. While the themes may be grotesque, this story takes creative license to answer the question:what if she could get revenge?

Mild Warnings:cursing, gaslighting, murder, gagging, and vomit.

Medium Warnings:external body injuries like bruising or welts from domestic/sexual violence, domestic abuse including emotional manipulation, filming without consent, posting sexual content without consent, sharing without consent.

Hard Limits:sexual abuse, human trafficking, unusual use of a sex toy, improper use of steel wool, genital mutilation, graphic violence, graphic body gore.

*NOTE: No part of this story has been inspired by recent events portrayed in the news. Similarities to any and all reports are coincidence and only reiterates how horror often reflects real life.*

1

Rain gently taps against the bedroom window, subtly drowning out digital moans escaping from my phone speaker as I find my release. The wetness of the outside is a stark contrast to the dry desert of a sex life I’ve had in this marriage. My only escape recently has been at the bottom of my dresser drawer in the shape of an egg, a tentacle, and a rose. All things I bought in secret because Miles would lose his damned mind if he knew I was replacing him.

His words, not mine.

The man is the size of a fucking tree and he’s intimidated by a simple sex toy. Honestly, if someone told me that masculinity was so fragile at a younger age, I would’ve never looked twice in his direction.

We met in teen bible study our senior year.

I know. I know. Me? A girl who loves porn, sex toys, and cursing in bible study, of all places.

I was born into a well-off, middle class, Midwestern family. That came with all the fixings. Well behaved children who grew up to be all star athletes in high school and college. A stay-at-home mom who participated in every community bake saleand volunteer project possible. Our blue-collar dad who worked his way from the bottom up until he owned his own business. And, like clockwork, church every Sunday morning followed by family lunch at our local diner. Mom made sure my siblings and I were involved in every church outing as children, slowly migrating to our respective bible study groups as we grew older. Good Christian children grow up into godly warriors or whatever bullshit she spewed at us.

My brothers, Luke and John, are a few years older than me. They graduated before I was a freshman in high school, so I attended bible study alone. What’s a good girl to do at bible study other than keep to herself in the corner with her silly books and ignore everyone? However, no matter how hard I tried to stay in the shadows, there was always one guy who lit up my life.

Miles Kowalski.

He rumbled into my life like a tornado, rapid and all consuming, filled with so much laughter it was contagious. He always knew the right words to say to pull a smile from my face. Miles always knew exactly what to say to get me talking. My name on his lips was sent from heaven above.

“One day, I’m going to make you fall in love with me, Mary Jo,” he would say. I would giggle until my cheeks burned and my belly ached.

One day, that finally happened after years of his persistent friendship, and not so long after, we left for college together. Moving to Madison to attend University of Wisconsin, I completed four years with a degree in communications and Miles continued to complete his MBA. Miles obtained a job at a startup company and, once he made enough for both of us, he suggested I stay home. But only if I wanted to. He was so cognizant of my need for freedom and adventure. He said that’s what drew him to me the most. That, while I claimed to lovethe lord as much as he did, I didn’t let that dampen my sense of curiosity.

In years since, as youthful ambitions weaned into adult responsibilities, my faith has wavered. I no longer believe in invisible promises of eternal life or salvation. The once good girl I aspired to be, to please my community, has turned into a homebody wife. Miles has also strayed from his faith, but he has never strayed from me. I do my duty, as I promised Miles in our vows, to tend to the house with chores and meals, while Miles brings home the money needed to ensure we have a roof over our heads and food on the table.

Which reminds me, I haven’t even started dinner yet.

Sighing, I glance at the clock. It’s only 5:28 p.m. Miles won’t be home until very late tonight. His new job takes him away from home longer than normal with extended hours and frequent travel. Honestly, it’s done wonders for our relationship.

It’s been a well-known fact in our relationship, even from the beginning, that we need our space. Miles can be a little controlling, insisting to know my location ever since we first started dating as a way to keep me safe. That has morphed over the years to more trust, but also a lack of friendships. Miles didn’t get along with anyone in our community, but he tolerates Brooke with her constant reminders that I can be an independent woman without him hovering like a mother hen. It caused a fight between them at one point, resulting in our friendship becoming strained for a few months. Now, we’ve compromised where I can have my alone time during the day while Miles is at work, as long as I have the house ready and dinner waiting when he gets home.