Page 5

“I killed my sister. It was an accident.” I can hear the sob threatening to escape. “I picked her up from school and I rolled the car. She broke her neck. I don’t deserve a merciful death. I should have made her buckle in.”

I hold a hand up. “You have your own reasons, and you must live with them, or die with them. I’m only here to administer a service. If you want it drawn out, give me a time frame and I will do my best to make you suffer for your sins.”

“A week,” he says. “I want to suffer for a week and then I want it to end.”

He sounds so sure of himself. They always do when they’ve made this decision. Only to turn back on it once the suffering starts. Then they beg. They’ve made a mistake. It’s all wrong. I wonder how long it will take him during this week to change his mind.

Of course, there is no changing your mind once you enter.

I turn and walk towards the dark building and motion for him to follow.

Sitting at the front desk is a young woman, but I ignore her as I lead the boy up to my room.

It’s my room. No one else may use it. I’ve made that very clear. My toys are my own. I even clean up after myself, so I incur no additional charges.

The boy follows me upstairs, glancing at the reception desk.

“Don’t pay attention to her. Follow me.”

We walk into the room where there is a bed, a chest of drawers, and an en-suite bathroom.

“Make yourself comfortable,” I say calmly, going to the en-suite bathroom to wash my hands. I take off my coat and purse and rest them on the small cupboard in the bathroom before I return to the room.

He looks nervous, glancing around as though expecting something to jump out at him.

Suddenly the sound of screams come from down the hall, and I see a thin bead of sweat drip down his face.

“I’ll close the door,” I say, going to shut it. “It’s otherwise soundproof.”

I go to the dresser and open the bottom shelf, looking through the various toys I have there for the straps I’ll need to keep him down.

I pull them out and look at him. “Lie back, spread-eagled. We don’t want you trying to break free and making a run for it.”

He nods and does as I ask, but I can’t see the fear and hesitation in his eyes. He’s going to want to back out. I know it. He’s going to beg for his life. It’s just a question of how long until he does.

He wants it drawn out over a week. I will start small. Unlike those before me, I am in complete control of myself. No touch of madness here, no obsession.

Just this room, here and now.

And the boy.

I strap him to the four corners of the bed where there are metal rings before I retrieve a pair of scissors.

“What are you going to do with those?” he asks, his voice shaking.

“I don’t explain myself to you. But I do love to tell stories. Perhaps if you’re good, I’ll tell you one.”

I start to cut his clothes, working meticulously until all that’s left is his underwear. I start to snip those off and he balks, but doesn’t say anything further.

Once he’s fully naked, I inspect him. He has hair on his chest and stomach, and a patch around his cock that is hanging limp between his legs. He has a good length, excellent for playing with. I’m sure he’s a grower as well.

He’s looking at me with wide eyes as I retrieve a box cutter from the drawer and go into the second drawer to get some lemon-bleach blend that I’ve made, and a bag of salt.

He swallows as I approach him. I set the items down on the nightstand next to him and smile as I slowly push the box cutter blade out.

“This will hurt,” I say matter-of-factly.

I start to make small cuts on his chest and arms, and he hisses, but doesn’t ask me to stop. I make my way down his body and stop just at his groin. Then I start from his feet and up his legs, making sure to slice the skin between his toes. Tears fall down his face and he bites his lip.

He’s brave, I’ll give him that. This is going to be more fun than I anticipated.

I get back to his groin and hold his flaccid cock in my hand.

“No…” he whimpers.

I ignore him and start to make little stripes down his length and then slit two little cuts on each of his balls. I smirk as I finish, then I put the box cutter down and step back to inspect my artwork.

Blood is dribbling down from the various cuts, and it runs down his body. I pick up the bleach and his eyes widen as I spray it on the first cut. He cries out and tugs at his restraints, but I simply move onto the next cut. Working my way the same way I did with the box cutter, down to his groin, up his leg and then on his cock itself. He is screaming now, but I’m not finished.

I pick up the salt and start pouring it onto the cuts, rubbing it into the wounds so they clog with the white granules.

He shrieks, but he doesn’t ask me to stop. He doesn’t beg. He simply shrieks.

I lean over him and look into his eyes, now shining from the tears running down his face.

“I’m going to leave this here for now. Let you soak before the real fun begins. I’ll be back tomorrow to start the real show. Sleep tight.” I grab my coat and purse from the bathroom and walk to the door.

“Wait…” he calls to me as I leave the room and shut the door. I bark that my room is not to be touched as I pass the receptionist and then leave.

Once I’m back home, I check on Shiloh before I go shower. Tonight wasn’t satisfactory in the way I’m used to, but it is the start of a fun project that’s going to keep me occupied for a week.