it would be terrible if i killed you, wouldn’t it? people would be upset. right? lots of people? your family at the very least. you have family? don’t talk i can’t understand you through the duct tape, dear. besides it’s a rhetorical question. i’m trying to make you remember your family. i want you to visualize them. what do they do? do they go to church? the mall? don’t answer, just think about it. visualize them, going to the mall. your mother finds a nice blouse at the gap. no … ross. no … marshall’s. yes, you look like your family shops at marshall’s. unfortunate. petty. unconcerned with fashion, simply looking for an okay piece of fabric to drape over their nude bodies. you look ashamed. that’s why i stripped you down, of course, because your shame, your pitiful face, it all gets me off. this knife i’m going to cut your throat with. all of it turns me on. judging by your flaccid dick i guess it doesn’t turn you on. unfortunate. the desire, the thrill is the best part. it gets my pussy all wet. i bet if we were in a different scenario you’d want to see my dripping wet pussy, wouldn’t you? you’d love to feel it slide over your rock hard dick. wouldn’t you? instead, i’m going to masturbate after i slit your throat and watch you bleed out. if you’re lucky you’ll be alive in time to hear me moan in ecstasy. oh god it riles me up just thinking about it.
do you have a wife? don’t answer. the mumbling, the moaning through the duct tape, it dries me up like a prune. it ruins everything. i don’t want to hear you talk, i only want to see you squirm. there you go. good work. now i imagine you have a wife and that she will be very upset to learn that you’re dead. you’re a handsome man, lean, fit, just enough chest hair to be manly but not too much, not sasquatchly. no receding hairline. i’d say before i realized how sexual killing men was for me i might have fucked your brains out in a seedy hotel room. it would be our little tryst, just you and me. maybe after a couple weeks of this i would call your house and just leave breathy voicemails on your answering machine for your wife to hear. then you have to shell out the money for a security system because she thinks someone’s out to kill your whole family, but you don’t have the balls to tell her you’re just fucking someone on the side. oh the things men will do to keep their mistresses.
you’re the fourth man i’ve killed. excuse me. you will be the fourth man i’ve killed. the first was my boyfriend, a wiry nerdy type who didn’t get out much. he was kinky, very into BDSM stuff, which of course was my preferred method of sexual encounters. he was a sub, too, very much so, and when i dominated him i dominated hard. i actually ruptured one of his testicles with my stiletto heel once. that was an interesting night at the ER. but god did i come so hard, i was shaking, shuddering on the ground, i was jerking off above him as i crushed his testicles with my heels, the front part at least. stomping and stomping and he was whimpering like a sad puppy dog, tears in his eyes, but he was still jizzing before i decided to use my stiletto. i missed the first time and heard him yelp, then the second, i don’t know how i did it but i pierced through his right ball. blood spurted everywhere, and he screamed, and i came so hard i fell onto the floor moaning. he screamed at me to call 911 but i could barely move, my legs were so rubbery. so he called. he crawled over to the telephone clutching his ball sack and called 911. he ended up losing that testicle. sex after that was boring unless pain was involved, specifically his pain. and one night i stabbed him in the chest. the next morning i knew that that was it. i had to kill men.
so now you’re here, and you’re probably terrified that i’m going to stab your balls or something. i’m not. your death will be quick and will be satisfying. it’s really just seeing your lack of control, your lack of agency, that makes me so wet. watching your eyes dart around the room as you look for a way out. you really think you can outwit me, don’t you. well let me tell you this, mister: you will never, ever outwit me, for as long as you live. [she laughs] the good news is at least you’ll get to see my naked before you go. if you’re lucky, i’ll even let you feel my tits. [laughs again] let’s get started.